#Alchemical Bonds to Machines

[wanderingandfound]

https://twitter.com/SoulofTwhit/status/1636127669120032770

Notes on The Five Approaches by Eiden Teak Okay, so more or less, it breaks down like this: There are five “approaches” to how Kalmeria is used. What’s Kalmeria? Well, the Kalmeria Revolution kind of bumped up everyone's power level and brought us back to the things were (supposedly) back in the Miraculous Millennium, before the Perennial Wave. “Hey, that’s not an answer to what Kalmeria is,” you might say? And to that, I say, shut up, no one really knows how it works. But here’s how people make it work (all approach names and sketches tentative):

The Null Approach, also called the Mundane Approach uses Kalmeria and the Perennial Wave’s natural technological negation attributes to basically nullify and reduce magical effects. Kesh is really keen on this, and so are a lot of us in Millennium Break. A lot of our blue collar folks, especially, like in the Oxblood Clan and Company of the Spade. Kesh weapons and Altars enhanced by the Mundane Approach seem to dampen the sound and light around them, swallowing the impact of incoming blows. 

The Arcane Approach blends Kalmeria with some of the older sources of power we’ve had for a while like our Chorus Bond, a Twilight Mirage resource called “Q-Glass,” Hyphan strati tech, or the Memoria which Columnar stole from us. In brief, it's very "device" oriented: For us, that means lots of staves, orbs, cybertomes, alchemical potions—classic conduits of power, yeah? For Columnar and the Frontier Syndicate, they often use independently moving, choreographed lots of bits, funnels, and drones—all of which produce with strange visual phenomena, like eye floaters and optical auras.

The Divine Approach uses Kalmeria as a medium for calling on the power of a Divine directly and immediately. Whether that’s from Nideo and the other Stels or from the Divines of the Mirage, it seems very paternalistic, but that’s just my view. It really just escalates the familiar way Divines blessed Hallows, extending it to their pilots. You know: Glowing skin; fiery auras. Living wings.  Both on the pilot & the mech. Nideo stuff looks statuesque and angelic. Mirage Divines are less humanoid by default, and seem to be more insectoid than normal. You can tell the difference between Nideo Divine magic and the Mirage’s use because the former always smells—units report a near endless list odors associated with Nidean Altars, including ash, incense, sugar, mint, sulfur.

The Profane Approach uses Kalmeria in a way similar to Motion did—which frankly, I don’t love— to even more easily create things out of the raw Perennial Wave: Gaseous particles cohering and then solidifying into forms. Damaged armor bursts into liquid, then gets reformed on the simple frame. Melee weapons change shape and dimension as needed. Ranged weapons need no ammo, as it’s generated by the Demiurge Engine. Used by lead companies of Stel Orion, who were allowed to salvage parts of Motion from the salvage field above Partizan since they weren't directly involved in our fight there. But also used by the Crown of Glass, whose witch has a direct relationship with Perennial. When Orion Altars are on the field, you might find yourself tasting blood or berries or something even stranger.

Finally, the Elemental Approach brings together Kalmeria and the capabilities of the Branched to blend the outside world with the inside person. For the Branched themselves, this has brought them in closer conscious/experiential contact with both nature and society—those that choose to tap into Kalmeria find that they literally feel the world more. The Apostolosians, meanwhile, have performed some truly dark research on the Branched, and have used the results to reshape themselves and their war machines directly—in some way, becoming more like their hated enemies the Branched, though they haven’t seemed to notice. The result is that they adopt parts of the environment as expressions of themselves in both their altars and their bodies: Summoning shields of ice, firing lightning or fire from their limbs, turning their flesh to stone, even calling storms into clear days—and when they do, nearby people ungrounded physical sensations: a finger down their back, an itch they cannot scratch, or something stuck in their eye.

theyre in a polycule

[the-lightning-strikes-again]

Do you think quintessence exposure prolonged Allura’s life and she would’ve lived an unnaturally long life for even an Altean if she’d lived? I think about this question a lot because this girl got blasted by and was exposed to insane amounts of it.

Hi, asennnaa. Ah, those are good questions! I’m not sure I have a perfect answer because I’m still grappling with how to handle some of the holes or contradictions in this show. I do think VLD’s entire universe confirms that infusions of quintessence into a body, as you suggest, can unnaturally prolong a life. But what counts as “enough” quintessence exposure to really make one immortal? Just “how immortal” can Allura get? Because other characters are shown to require multiple infusions of quintessence in order to remain even marginally immortal.

It looks like Zarkon was still aging, even with quintessence infusion. Here is a fresh Zark:

And here he is again ~10,000 years later with the wrinkly lips, sunken-in cheeks, and big eye baggies that are all standard signs of aging.

Old zarkturtle status achieved.

So despite standard access to quintessence infusions, and even being overcome with quintessence in the rift itself, both he and Haggar seem like they’re fighting a battle with the clock and still losing. Could their lack of immortality and constant need to infuse with quintessence be because they were accosted by rift creatures (so not experiencing “pure” quintessence infusion in the rift)? I suppose it’s possible.

And a lack of ongoing access to pure quintessence might also be part of the entire Galra Empire’s continuous desire to get to purer and larger amounts of quintessence. Because it’s not just power on the line.

Zarkon himself confirms what he hopes to achieve through quintessence in s3:

Desire for immortality is a huge motivator for the entire empire harvesting quintessence in the first place. Zarkon wants to live forever with his friends and family. But oh nu, he’s still aging. And even Lotor?? What is ten or one-hundred-thousand years in the face of a universe that is billions of years old? Is anyone technically immortal in this show? How long can anyone actually live?

An “imperfect-immortality” would also explain the strange reality of Lotor. He is a beautiful boi and is also 10,000 years old as well. Executive Producers Lauren Montgomery and Joaquim Dos Santos suggest in a Season 5 AfterbuzzTV interview that Lotor’s infusion with quintessence in utero results in him aging very, very slowly.

(Here’s the dialogue from the interview if you want it, from around the 13:30 mark:

JDS: It’s pretty safe to say that Lotor’s kind got that Daywalker kind of thing going on.

Interview: —Little vampire—

LM: Being in…in her womb, as [Honerva] was being exposed to all of this quintessence—it’s part of his DNA. It almost puts him on a level with Allura, pretty much who her quintessence is a part of her DNA. So it’s interesting to see.

JDS: And it’s allowed him to stay so beautifully young.

LM: He’s aged at a much slower rate than your average Galra.

Interviewer: So he IS a vampire.

LM: I think all Galra are kinda space vampires.

JDS: They’re kinda space vampires, yeah. Safe to say. You’re getting instead of blood, you’re getting like…planet juice.)

And it just so happens that, in the active plot of VLD, we’re introduced to Lotor at a point in time where he’s aged physically and mentally to the point of, what, maybe early twenties? The canon’s not clear about it. Despite the lack of a canon-backed “mental-to-physical human-age equivalent,” Lotor appears to careen between a tricky mastermind and a boi who’s still a bit embarrassed about his nanny:

(While I tend to think he’s early 20s in physical and mental agility, you could probably even argue Lotor acts like an older teenager still sometimes, lol. Quality eye-roll and pout right here. Does anyone else get, “Mom, shut up” vibes from this gif? And even his idealism, his unshakable belief that simply giving the empire what it wants will result in peace--it lacks a critical foresight about other people experiencing quintessence madness, dangers from within the rift, and the inevitable wars to “control the gates” and such technology. And there’s some things to be said about humans obtaining full brain development around age 25, as the prefrontal cortex, which inhibits impulses and assists with critical decision-making, is the last section to develop in full. So it makes me think, for all his intelligence and schemes, that he’s mentally a bit younger than he’d like to appear. And obviously doesn’t want to appear, considering how embarrassed he is about his nanny in front of his new-found friends, lol.)

But I digress. So just based on the evidence and the extra-canon commentary from EPs, it seems that if we panned out 20,000 years in the future, we might see a significantly aged Lotor, with the deep face lines and lip wrinkles and gaunt cheeks. Because he’s never stopped aging. His body clock is just totally and utterly creeping along, lucky boy.

If you want to trust the extra-canon text, then you might be able to extrapolate that like Lotor’s DNA, Allura’s DNA gives her an extended life. Although unlike slow-age Lotor, Allura appears to have had a more accelerated childhood. She can’t be more than Kova’s 28 decaphoebs (years), given that the season 3 finale shows Allura was born after Kova’s introduction. And yet, unlike Lotor’s strange history of taking forever to grow up, Allura presents as physically mature within a fairly normal timeline.

This would actually suggest that something is a bit weird about Allura’s DNA. And its something that makes her quintessence more intense than even Lotor’s own quintessence signature, if you want to go by the interviews where LM says, “It almost puts him on a level with Allura.”  

So what was this mysterious event?

Allura certainly could still infuse herself or be infused with quintessence to prolong her life, but that wouldn’t prolong her life indefinitely or put her even within range of what’s naturally going on with Lotor’s DNA.

Is there something inherently unique about Allura’s lineage or species, then, that could answer this?

Let’s look at Alteans first. The canon seems oddly contradictory about the natural age of Alteans. Coran is at least 600 years old because he was alive with the Castle of Lions was being built. But yet executive producer LM states that there’s something inherent in Allura’s DNA that makes her even more special than the average person, and even more strangely…Allura’s father, Alfor, doesn’t seem to fall into either of these two categories.

??

Despite Alfor understanding the deep secrets of the universe via Oriande, and having personal direct exposure with unlimited pure quintessence through building and even fighting in Voltron, he ages. Hard.

Here’s Alfor as a young man:

Here’s Alfor, only decaphoebs later, not long before he died.

So here we have an aging Alfor. And oof, in less than 28 decaphoebs, with no explanation as to why Coran would be doing so well in comparison. (Feel free to speculate!)

So whatever is wrong with Alfor’s life cycle, it would seem to be an isolated incident that not even exposure to Voltron or to the rift could undo. In which case, it’s hard to know if Allura’s DNA would naturally have the same weaknesses from her lineage. If not, then she should at least be able to reach 1,000 years naturally, if the spunky Coran is any measure to go by.

But Alfor did do something that I think places Allura as entirely unnatural and probably the most likely candidate to have a form of true immortality in this entire show:

So right in season 1, episode 1, Coran admits that Alfor has done some pretty wild alchemy. He physically connected Allura’s essence with the essence of Voltron—the single source of self-regenerating, infinite quintessence throughout the whole of the entire universe.

I’m not sure if this alchemical forge-bond would protect Allura from physically aging, but it would suggest that Voltron’s life force and Allura’s life force are intimately tied on the material plane. There is no other canonically shown bond like this in a living person, in the VLD universe. It makes Allura entirely unique as a character and likely helps to explain why she is so consistently over-powered compared to even Haggar/Honerva.

Because unlike ANY other Altean, including Honerva, Allura has an infinite, massive battery of pure quintessence to pull from at will. And it’s tied to her very life force.

I don’t know if a person’s life force being personally connected to Voltron would confer physical immortality, but I do think there’s a lot of evidence to suggest that as long as Voltron exists, Allura’s essence would be preserved within it. And as we saw in season 6, Shiro was capable of interacting with other paladins despite his physical death, because Black Lion had preserved his essence.

So I guess all of this is to say, it seems there would be a lot of reasons for why Allura could live a very long life. It does seem that if she infused herself with quintessence in an ongoing fashion, and she quite often has, then her already long Altean lifespan would become longer. And even in physical death, Allura could still “exist” like s6 Shiro to communicate and interact with the living, in a way that not even her father could.

(Which makes you wonder about that s8 ending with the Lions mysteriously flying off for an unknown reason and Lance’s Altean marks lighting up like a homing beacon, but oof, that’s perhaps another topic.)

Thank you so much for the ask! I hope my winding ramblings help to answer your question or encourage further thought about the possibilities!

[philicheesecake]

Do any of your preds use vore as a comfort or a sign of affection? Also, who’s this Oa guy from the “unwilling” pic? o3o

Absolutely! Daki might not be a softie, but he is kind of touch-starved but doesn’t know how to properly display affection, so he loves to eat his little human friend Sam (owned by @noodle-slurp) and he’s declaimed them as his comfort food.

Lexie also is the sort to eat their friends. They’re a silly goof, but they still have a big heart and she wants to keep her friends safe.

(Ancient sketches of Lexie and her girlfriend)

My dude Polo is also one for comfort noms! I haven’t posted much of him yet, though I intend to write more about him in the future.

As for Oa- He’s actually Lexie’s dad. He was born into the Krynne giant clan where he was originally going to be raised like the rest of the giants; as a killing machine, and a weapon against humanity. This took an unexpected turn when his clan was attacked by hunters when he was just seven years old. According to the Unseen Legion records, the hunters exterminated all of the clan members, though two hunters named Danny and Nat Samaritan took pity on young Oa and rescued the young giantling from the massacre, raising him as their own son.

He grew up just like any ordinary human under the loving care of his dads, and used the help of alchemic ice to disguise himself as human for most of the time. He eventually married a human and had Lexie as a daughter, whom he has a very close bond with. With his normal upbringing, he grew up with no instincts, and he never ate any human.

Unknown to him, his twin brother, Kole actually survived the Unseen Legion’s invasion, and he and a clan Elder fled to live on their own in the wilderness. I plan for the twins to meet eventually, which could be interesting, given how different they are, and how repulsed Kole would likely be at Oa’s sympathy towards humans.

[sylvanvixen]

@dungeonqueering​

It’s here and it’s amazing! I cannot overstate how hyped I am for this project! Exalted is a fantastic and beautiful setting and the design for Exalted Essence has been fabulous.

It’s an amazing mythic fantasy world drawing from myths, legends and pop culture from all across the world, actively choosing to focus on world building that diverges heavily from medieval western fantasy. Various stated locations include cultures inspired by mixes of various places and time periods including China, India, Venice, Athens, Baghdad and a heck of a lot more.

The system that we’ve seen so far is an amazing game that runs fast and straightforwardly, rewards cool descriptors, makes convictions and bonds between characters mechanically relevant and gives every character cool magical abilities that enhance their stats and an awesome battle aura that buffs their skills, it’s also not restrictive in it’s powers for the most part, a fighty type character can totally invest in the knowledge skill and all the cool powers associated with it. There’s full social mechanics engaging in romance or rivalry (or both!) and for downtime projects like running a kingdom, navigating a wilderness, crafting and magical rituals.

The design team for this game is awesome, they’ve been incredibly cool and open while talking with fans, they’ve put in deliberate effort to avoid cultural stereotypes in their work, the art for the game includes diverse, multicultural characters, a number of women doing awesome things and several disabled characters. The design team is also majority queer, several of them even run a podcast about queer women speaking about rpgs called Bonus Experience!

The character options for this game are really rad!

Characters play as mortal heroes who've been empowered by one of the major gods or other cosmic beings of the setting who are given the power to perform magical and mythical feats in a diverse fantasy setting. It's got 10 Exalted (basically classes) each with subtypes called Aspects or Castes (basically subclasses).

Solars: Heroes with conviction to change the world powered by the Sun god they're mythic heroes and kings of light and excellence, basically most of the Avengers, Hercules, Adora, classic 'protagonist' dudes.

Lunars: Heroes who stand outside society empowered by the Moon God/ess, they’re shapeshifting warriors, tricksters and witches, think Maui, Loki and Double Trouble, the more wild card characters, explicitly trans validating with a gender fluid patron.

Dragon Blooded: Heroes born of blessed family lines empowered by the elemental dragons, passionate and numerous, basically elemental samurai, think the Avatar, Romance of the Three Kingdoms, and most of the She-ra Princesses.

Sidereals: Heroes chosen by Fate, secret agents of heaven trying to create a better future with powers to forsee fate and obscure memory, like spy-thrillers with weird esoteric ninja powers, imagine if sailor moon was a spy/ninja show.

Getimians: Heroes who never were, heaven in Exalted is a bureaucracy and sometimes prophesied heroes end up edited out of destiny, returned by a rogue sidereal these heroes awoke in a world in which they were never born and their great deeds undone, now with funky quantum powers, like It's a Wonderful Life as an anime protagonist.

Alchemicals: Heroes born of metal, found in ancient tombs of the machine-titan, these heroic souls were reborn in bodies of magical metal and made to serve a community, able to incorporate magic item powers into their bodies, basically the Iron Giant meet every awesome sentient robot hero but in a fantasy setting

Liminals: Heroes born from death, resurrection doesn't work in Exalted but when someone tries you get a FMA situation where some new being is born in the body blessed by the OG death goddess with awesome ghost hunting powers and creepy body horror, think Frankenstein or FMA hommunculi, but with psychic powers and the ability to hunt ghosts in order to help protect the veil between life and death.

Abyssals: Heroes brought back from death, empowered by the ghost kings of the underworld these deathknights are empowered to become the lords of the underworld with spooky dark powers, very castlevania, vampire hunter D, and basically any gothic heavy metal album cover, not necessarily villains but it's an option.

Infernals: Heroes beaten down by the world order and empowered by the trapped titans to rebel against the world that hurt them, Punk rock kings of hell with their own final boss demon form and awesome alien powers, totally able to play a lot of villains, totally don't have to be evil, you could easily do Dante from DMC or Bayonetta.

Exigents: The exalted of any number of smaller gods and basically the homebrew Exalt, the example one is the champion of a Field God who gave up his power to empower the Strawmaiden who began cutting down an army of evil fairies like wheat. Has provided rules and guidelines for making your own exalted and their cool own powers, so you could be the champion of a god of rainbows, mice or libraries.

Exalted doesn't have proper 'race' options like D&D, if it's going to say something isn't human than it means it (Elves are called Raksha and they're vampiric chaos spirits given shape by dreams to look beautiful and terrifying for example) but you can totally play a 'mortal' with weird fantastic features; some people are beastmen so you could play a snakeperson or a catboy, some people carry the descent of spirits so you could play a character with the style of a tiefling, aasimar, genasi or weird fey character and some people just hung around faerie realms or sorcerers and were given strange mutations or powers

This game is just so damn cool. Check out the project, you can back it for 5$ and you’ll get access to the full rules text of the game, released in chunks throughout the kickstarter (Basically the full book, just without the editing, formatting and all the art) and if you like it you can bump up the pledge at any point afterwards, including after the project is over. It’s already funded several times over!

[ultraglittercat]

Drabble 114

Camping

Varian was frustrated. He'd been working on translating the Demanitus Scroll for a week now, and even though he barely took breaks to rest or eat (despite Ruddiger's chitterings) progress was slow. He was almost certain he'd identified another vowel when he was hit in the back of the neck by a pillow.

“Get your stuff. We're going camping.” Lance the pillow thrower informed him.

“What? You can't just throw things at someone and except them to drop everything and join you on a camping trip.” Varian protested. But it was difficult to make his point when he was next smacked by a blanket, this one thrown by Eugene.

“Not negotiable. This is guys' time, the ultimate in bonding activities. You're gonna love it.” Eugene promised.

“I would love getting work done.” Varian argued.

“Aw, c'mon little man. You are missing out on life by spending your days in this stuffy old lab.” Lance insisted.

“It's not stuffy at all. The humidifier does a great job adding moisture to the air.” Varian maintained, pointing at it.

“Really? That's kind of neat.” Lance said, as he began poking at the device.

“Hey, don't jostle it! It's really delicate and--” Varian was interrupted by the sound of the humidifier falling apart in Lance's hands. “--you might break it.” Varian concluded sadly.

“Oops. All the more reason to go outside, then.” Lance smiled disarmingly but Varian merely stared at him, arms folded, and face scowling. “Time to turn that frown upside down! Biiig hug!” Lance declared, scooping the smaller boy up in a big bear hug. Varian tried to resist at first, but Lance's embrace was tight and welcoming and his anger at having a machine break slowly dissipated as he was held in Lance's arms.

“There, now you're feeling better. And hugs are just one of the benefits of guy's time. You'll learn strength, and focus, and self-preservation as you sit by a roaring campfire.” Lance said.

“I do know how to start fires easily.” Varian mused.

“...should we be worried about that?” Eugene whispered to Lance.

“Nah, it's cool.” Lance whispered back.

“Alright then. Good to have you on board, Goggles. Get whatever you need from the lab and then we're heading to Mount Saison.” Eugene instructed.

Varian moved to grab the scroll. “Not that.” Lance clarified. Varian sighed, and instead gathered up some of his goo balls, a few books, and some vials of alchemical solutions. Ruddiger chittered as he climbed onto Varian's shoulder.

“Don't worry, buddy. I haven't forgotten about you. I've got apples in my apron pocket.” Varian told him. The little raccoon smiled. “Just need to grab some ham sandwiches from the kitchen.”

“Can you get some with the crusts cut off?” Lance asked. Eugene stared at him. “Ooh, and extra mustard!” Lance added.

“Mustard, no crusts, got it.” Varian said.

“Do you have a horse you can use? Max won't hold three people.” Eugene pointed out.

“We can take some of the farm donkeys. They know how to carry people, especially Prometheus, he's really gentle.” Varian replied.

“Good. Grab the sandwiches and then meet us outside.” Eugene said.

Varian ran to the kitchen, stopping to say hello to Quirin and tell him he was off on a camping trip with Lance and Eugene. Quirin approved, glad that Varian finally had some male friends to act as role models/older brother figures.

Varian came back out, went to the barn and settled up two donkeys: Prometheus and Hyperion, who he explained to the boys would be used by Lance.

“What kind of name is Hyperion?” Lance wondered.

“One my Mom chose.” Varian replied.

“Oh.” Lance realized his gaffe. “Sounds terrific.” he lied.

The boys rode to Mount Saison, Eugene and Lance taking turns telling Varian about some of their adventures traveling outside of Corona.

“So Rapunzel found this magical idol that makes people having hallucinations of whatever brings them happiness. Rapunzel saw visions of her father while she was homesick and so she coveted the idol even more than the rest of us, which was a lot. Then Lorbs almost convinced her to get rid of it when...” Eugene suddenly trailed off.

“Hey, I was interested! What happens next?” Varian asked eagerly.

“...uh she listened to them and destroyed it?” Eugene said uncertainly.

“...why do I have the feeling it's best if I don't question that?” Varian wondered.

“It's best if you don't question that.” Lance assured him. Varian shrugged, and the rest of their trip was uneventful. Varian built a fire quickly using a tube coated with phosphorus and a sulfur tipped match. Eugene and Lance were impressed, if a little unnerved that Varian had access to small, readily flammable materials. Besides ham sandwiches, they toasted some of the marshmallows Eugene had brought.

“This is nice.” Lance said, leaning back and relaxing. “We'll sleep well, in the Queen's tent, which I borrowed just for today.”

“He's borrowed it several times before.” Eugene confided to Varian, who nodded. He was just happy to be a part of the group. It was really nice having friends, and not having to sleep shackled in a cold, damp dungeon. Varian shivered at the memory.

“Here, have a blanket.” Eugene offered. Varian took it, feeling grateful.

“It's almost dark enough to see the stars. The view from up here is spectacular, when you're not distracted by hordes of umlauts.” Eugene laughed.

“I've heard that it's really nice, and I'm glad I finally get to see for myself. I've been charting stars since I was little, and the sky is Old Corona is beautiful, but it was kind of lonely just doing it by myself. I mean, sometimes Dad came out, but it was mostly to tell me to go to bed...” Varian sighed.

“Quirin's just worried because you don't have a good sleep schedule. Rapunzel feels the same way.” Eugene told him.

Varian blushed. Were his sleeping habits really bad enough to have everyone concerned about him? Part of him was flattered that they did care about him, but another part was frustrated that they didn't trust his judgment. He was preparing to tell Eugene that he was a teenager, and nearly old enough to decide for himself how much sleep he needed, when he was elbowed by Lance.

“Here come the stars!” Lance exclaimed.

“Wow.” Varian was impressed. “You can see the Summer Triangle so clearly from here! There's Altair, Deneb, and Vega.” he pointed up at the sky.

“And there's a bunch of stars that look like a bird!” Lance added.

“That's Aquila, Latin for eagle.” Varian explained. “I think the Demanitus Scroll may be written in a language partly inspired by Latin. I mean, I'm not 100% sure but--”

“But today you're taking a break from work. Just keep looking at the stars Varian.” Eugene yawned. “Maybe count how many you can see before you fall asleep.”

Lance yawned too, and so did Varian. Eugene had made a good point about taking time off and just enjoying what was around him. Varian petted Ruddiger absently, thinking about how fortunate he was to be out there tonight with friends.

The End

Lance's bear hugs are the best. We should all be lucky enough to have a Lance in our lives.

[fletchphoenix]

The Sins Of Your Past Affect Our Future

HERE IT IS! Boy howdy this one is long but I think it’s my favourite thing I’ve written so far. I love it to bits! Okay, thank you for all your support and onwards with the chapter!

Word Count : 6175

TW : Strong Language

------------------------------

  As Corona came into sight, Varian, Yong and Nuru got more and more excited and Hugo felt more and more dread grow in his stomach. This was it - their last trial and the last time they’d truly be a team. After this, they’d all part ways and never see each other again. Except..none of them would’ve completed their goals. Well, other than him. Donella’s deadline was tomorrow and he’d have to say goodbye to the bonds he’d built. His bond with Yong, where he’d show him different alchemical techniques purely to one-up Varian each time, a smug grin on his features at Yong’s amazement and Varian frustration. His bond with Nuru as they’d bicker and insult each other, but still silently (begrudgingly in Nuru’s case) agree to protect the other two if anything went sour. And his bond with Varian which...was difficult to describe. 

  He didn’t get what it was about the other boy. Whether it was his looks, his personality or something like that...he couldn’t stop himself from doing the one thing that Donella warned him not to do. He got attached VERY quickly, wanting nothing more than to gain the other’s affection in some way. Yet here they were. Two years later with no luck or success whatsoever in making Varian like him. He didn’t get it! He was handsome, funny and smart! How the hell could Varian NOT be interested? It frustrated him to no end - nights spent on watch wondering what the hell was the other’s deal. Initially he would’ve assumed the boy was straight, but..after finding out about his borderline obsession with Flynn Rider, he could just tell he wasn’t. 

  “Hello? Earth to Hugo?” Varian called, waving his hand in front of the blonde’s face before finally getting his attention. Hugo flinched back in embarrassment and shook his head, trying to erase any thoughts of the other boy from his mind..for now. “Hey you alright? You were zoning out there for a second.” 

  “I’m fine.” Hugo replied, a bit more aggressively than he’d intended. Shit, he didn’t mean to be that rude to him at this moment in time, he was just...distracted. By things and feelings he didn’t want to feel, because they would hurt him more in the long run and hurt Varian if he acted on them. At first he really wouldn’t have cared and would have just used Varian, taken what he wanted and turned on him almost immediately, but..he just didn’t think he could do that to the younger man. Two years was a long time to spend around someone, and when that someone was as charismatic and intelligent as Varian, it was hard to NOT fall in love with him.

  “Alright you guys!” Varian declared, standing on a bridge with Ruddiger chittering excitedly from his perch on his right shoulder and Prometheus’ reins in hand, “Welcome to Corona, my kingdom.” And with that, him, Nuru and Yong broke into a sprint across the brick bridge, Hugo letting a small chuckle pass through his lips as he watched before following along contently.

  As he passed through the stone archway at the end of the bridge, moss and ivy tangling together up the sides, he could see the hustle and bustle of town. So many people he could steal from, though..he snuck a glance at Varian, Nuru raising her eyebrow in his direction in disapproval as if she could read his thoughts. He neglected his former thoughts. He was a changed man! Besides, Varian wouldn’t want him to get kicked out of his home kingdom before they had the chance to complete the trials as a team. Speaking of their team, the other three all began to regroup in the city centre beside a small fountain, Yong taking a seat on the brick wall surrounding it beside Nuru and Varian as Hugo stood before them. 

  “Okay so, tonight is the lantern festival and..before we complete the trial, I kinda want you all to see it. Just as a nice goodbye before we all go our separate ways. Y'know? But first, we’ve got to meet Xavier to ask about the Demanitus device and some other things.” Varian explained, his voice sounding slightly saddened as he mentioned the idea of their makeshift found family disbanding. Hugo wanted to comfort him, but Yong already beat him to it. 

  “What do you want to do when we open the library?” Yong asked, a smile on his face as he leant forward and met Varian’s eyes. “I know that I want to make something that doesn’t explode. Something to make my family know I’ve changed!” He declared as he put his hands on his hips in a very Varian-esque way. 

  “I know that I’m going to find a way to stop the comet, or at least mitigate the effects of the meteor showers. Just, find a way to help my people. How about you, Varian?” Nuru tilted her head to the side, smiling reassuringly and resting a hand on Varian’s knee. Jealousy began to rise in Hugo, before he shook his head and bit the inside of his lip. No. None of that. Nuru was happy with Amber and Varian was very clearly not into women or Nuru at all. 

  “I just want to finish my mother’s work. I want to be able to know that she didn’t die out of nowhere and that she can rest easy knowing everything was done.” Varian’s tone seemed sad, his eyes focused on the cobbled streets of Corona. “How about you, Hugo?”

  Hugo paused. He..really hadn’t thought about it. He was supposed to just go back to his normal life of stealing and conning people before returning to Donella, but now he wasn’t so sure that was what he wanted. “That’s personal, goggles.” He simply replied. “Now, who’s this Xavier you were talking about?” 

  “Oh! Right!” Varian responded quickly, seemingly brushing off Hugo’s admittedly cryptic response. “Xavier’s the town’s blacksmith. Really nice guy, but very...very knowledgeable about legends and all that. Tends to go on and on about them. He’s interesting though! Just..talks a lot.” He shrugged and led them down the winding streets, the gang following close behind. Hugo watched as Varian walked with a slight skip in his step - probably the joy of being back in his hometown as opposed to how beaten down he was after leaving Galcrest after the earth trial. He can’t say he understood the feeling of having to leave your family behind - having never had one, but he could see family meant a lot to Varian and to have that ripped away from him..it must’ve hurt.

  After what seemed like twenty minutes of walking, they arrived outside of a blacksmith’s shack, the man inside whistling a little tune before turning and his face lighting up at the sight of Varian. “Varian, my boy! It’s so good to see you!” he called before pulling the boy into a tight embrace, his eyes shut with his elation at the man’s presence very clear. Hugo couldn’t help but let out a little chuckle, alerting the man to the odd trio waiting at the entrance. “Oh, and you must be his friends he met on the way.” Xavier’s kind eyes looked Hugo up and down, a knowing smirk making its way onto his face before continuing, setting an uneasy feeling in Hugo’s stomach. Why was he smiling at him like that? 

  “Yeah, these are Nuru, Yong and Hugo.” Varian spoke nonchalantly, looking at Hugo with a strange look he couldn’t quite place to one emotion. Xavier gave a little ‘ah’ accompanied by a knowing nod and walking towards a small, glossy bookcase. By the looks of it, it was covered in books about old legends such as the cheating willows (very obscure, in Hugo’s opinion, and Varian seemed to groan at the sight of the title as though he’d remembered a difficult memory.) and quickly, Xavier pulled out a scroll of parchment paper and unraveled it on the table. The teens gathered around the table and looked down at the schematics in front of them revealing a machine of some sorts. Upon closer inspection, he could see how the various parts of the totems fit together in intricate ways to make the machine. Hugo took a second to glance up at Varian, the younger man deeply focused on the paper in front of him, and an affectionate smile drifted onto his face, however it left before anyone could call him out for it and especially before Varian could realise he was staring. Not that he was anyway. Totally not. 

   “Thank you, Xavier. This is perfect!” Varian called, gathering the blueprints in his arms and heading back towards the street. Before Hugo could follow suit, a warm hand settled on his shoulder and turned him around. 

  “So you’re Hugo, hmm?” Xavier said with a smile, raising an eyebrow. “Varian has sent the princess many letters discussing you. More so than about the rest of your friends. It seems you’ve made a strong impression on him.” Shit. Did Varian know what he was planning to do? He knew the other was probably suspicious at first, but after the countless nights they’d spent by the campfire and the almost intimate moments they’d shared...he couldn’t still feel that way right? Hugo thought he’d integrated himself into their group pretty well, hell, even Nuru trusted him, so..why wouldn’t Varian? “All I will say is..I can tell a thief when I see one. And I can also see you’re conflicted. You may know what you want, but is it really what you need?” The blacksmith stated, encapsulating Hugo’s confused expression with a soft smile. 

  “Hugo, you coming?” Varian asked, breaking Hugo away from his thoughts and prompting him to follow along after the others quietly. What the hell did he mean? Did..did he know? How could the old man know? Why was he being so cryptic about it as well? Is what he wants what he needs? Well, he wants money and you definitely need that, so what the hell was he talking about? Conflicted? Was it that obvious? Ugh. It was all hurting his head far too much. All of it was so...confusing. “Okay guys,” Varian beamed, turning with a large smile on his face. One that made Hugo’s cheeks heat up and Nuru grin smugly at him. “So, we have time to celebrate the lantern festival! Where do you want to go first?” Varian declared, clasping his hands together with a wide grin.

  “The dancing!” Yong yelled, grasping Varian and Hugo’s hands and pulling them along with Nuru in tow. “I saw it earlier and I thought it would be fun!” As they were pulled along the streets, Hugo swore he saw a red flush on Varian’s cheeks, though he pushed it aside in favour of dodging the Coronan citizens that flooded the streets. Upon reaching the market space, Yong pulled away, causing Varian to trip. Hugo, ever the agile one, lunged and pulled the other man flush against his chest to help prevent his fall. 

  “Are you alright?” he asked, though Varian gave him no response, setting an intense stare that locked their eyes together before nodding and hastily looking away. 

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” The other muttered, straightening his shirt and dusting off his waistcoat before moving away from Hugo, much to his disappointment. Happy couples spun and swayed around them to the rhythm of the music, Varian glancing around and biting the inside of his cheek. “WE stick out like a sore thumb, don’t we?” 

  “How about we blend in, then?” Hugo questioned, bowing and holding his hand out. “Varian Ruddiger, would you bless me with the privilege of sharing a dance?” He pushed his glasses up with his free hand, fully expecting Varian to reject him and his advances as he’d done oh so many times. Much to his surprise, Varian’s gloved hand slipped into Hugo’s with the ghost of a smile on his face as he did so, their eyes meeting once again. “Wow. Okay then.” Hugo whispered under his breath, pulling Varian closer to him and shifting a hand to his waist as the other’s moved onto his shoulder and, once in the proper posture, they began to join in with the dance around them.

  They spun and swayed and laughed as they glided around the street, Hugo picking Varian up and spinning him around in the air before setting him down in a fit of giggles and smiles and, before they knew it, it was nightfall. “Hey, come with me.” Varian whispered, slowly pulling Hugo away to a desolate, brick bridge after purchasing two lanterns from a vendor. They both took a seat, their feet grazing the water as they sat in a comfortable silence together before Varian broke it. “I used to come here a lot after my redemption. It was hard to admit people had forgiven me when I couldn’t even forgive myself, even though they assured me every day I was forgiven. It was the one place I had that no one knew where I could sit with Ruddiger and relax. I wanted to bring you here, because..you mean a lot to me, Hugo. You’ve become so important to me over such a small amount of time and I trust you more than anything else. You know what I mean?” 

  “I’m starting to.” Hugo responded, eyes fixed on the boy beside him as the lanterns, previously in their hands, floated into the sky. They joined the mass of them already in the sky, though theirs twirled in their own, secretive rhythm. Hugo silently brushed his fingers against Varian’s before slipping his hand into the other’s, enjoying the small moment of intimacy between the two after he’d spent the past two years chasing after him and relentlessly flirting..it was nice to know his feelings were reciprocated. Guilt began to settle in his stomach over what he was about to do to the boy beside him but..a few more hours of pretending never hurt anyone, right?

  “Guys?” They heard Yong yell, their hands pulling away from each other’s and moving from their comfortable position on the bridge as they looked away from the almost perfect scene they’d created together in what felt like their own little bubble away from the rest of the world. Just them without a care in the world. Varian cleared his throat, the hand that previously held Hugo’s rubbing the back of his neck before he began to speak.

  “I guess we should get back to them. It..has been a while.” he commented before turning on his heel and heading away from Hugo before he could give an answer. Oh well, there was always next time-oh wait. No there wasn’t. Hugo bit his lip at the thought before shaking his head and jogging to catch up with the others. No. He wasn’t gonna think like that. Not right now when he was so so close to finishing his mission. He couldn’t let himself think he was wrong and feel something.

  They kept heading along the lit paths of Corona towards the castle, a purple blur tackling Varian in a tight hug on the floor. The other three couldn’t help but snort with laughter as Varian writhed to get out of the bone crushing hug he was forced to endure. “Varian! Oh my god it's been far too long! How’s my little brother doing?” She gasped at the sight of the others, “OH MY SUNDROP! See! I told you you’d make friends along the way! It’s a pleasure to meet you all!” she exclaimed, finally relenting in her tight hug and standing, also allowing Varian to follow suit. “Hi, I’m princess Rapunzel!” 

  “Rapunzel, this is Yong, Nuru and..Hugo.” Varian paused before saying Hugo’s name, a smile wide on Rapunzel’s face as the blonde’s name was uttered. Did...did they all know something he didn’t? Everyone had been giving him creepy smiles all day! Rapunzel, who was now babbling about something or the other, pulled Varian along and gestured for the gang to follow along. All he really picked up on was some guy called Eugene was asleep because of guard duty or something like that, he really didn’t care. All he wanted was to get a good night’s sleep.

  After being redirected to their rooms, Hugo immediately flopped onto the king sized bed in front of him, stretching out across it with a wide grin. Now this..this was what he wanted. There was...an abundance of green items for a kingdom that had all other rooms decorated in purple and gold. Maybe Varian had written to them about their favourite colours? He supposed Nuru would love it here, being as purple was her favourite colour. He felt himself slowly slipping into the realm of slumber before a knock sounded at the door. “Bleugh..come in!” he yelled out, rubbing his hand over his face and propping himself up on his elbows, putting his glasses on before seeing Varian enter through the large doors in his pyjamas. That...certainly wasn’t who he was expecting. “Oh, hey hairstripe.” he mumbled, an eyebrow raised in confusion, “What’s up?”

  “Can I sleep with you tonight?” the raven haired boy blurted out, before quickly resigning on himself. “I’m sorry-it’s dumb and I should uh-I should go. Sorry to bother you, Hugh.” He began, turning to rush out of the doors before Hugo leaped over the end of his bed and grabbed his wrist in a vice-like grip.

  “I-no Varian, it’s fine. You can sleep with me!” he almost yelled, essentially pulling the boy back over and closer to his chest. His face flushed as he realised the potential implications of his actions and words. “Oh god no that’s not what I meant.” he awkwardly stuttered out. Stuttering? Really? THIS was the level he was at with his crush on the other boy? Wow. Totally suave and seductive of him, wasn’t it? Varian, however, ignored this, letting out a small snort of laughter before shuffling away and sitting on the bed twisting and rubbing the silk, emerald sheets between his delicate fingers. “So, hairstripe. What’s wrong?” Hugo asked, moving to lay back beside the younger man, who promptly laid beside him and rested his head on his chest. The blonde felt his face flush as the man’s fingers, previously rubbing the sheets, moved to trace small shapes over his chest. 

  “Y’know when you said you didn’t know what you wanted to do after all this is over? I..kinda hoped you’d stay here. With me. In Corona. I think we work well as a team together and...I really want you to join me with my royal duties. We could open the library together and teach people the merits of alchemy. I just..don’t want to do it alone. I don’t want you to be alone.” Varian admitted, keeping his focus on Hugo’s pyjama shirt and the little intricate details sewn into the fabric. Hugo glanced down at the other, smiling sadly and absentmindedly playing with his hair carefully, strands weaving in between his digits.

  “Y’know...I will. I wouldn’t mind being able to stay with the infamous ‘Varian Ruddiger, the royal alchemist of Corona’. It certainly sounds like a good lifetime. I mean, being able to one-up you for the rest of my life? Sounds perfect.” he chucked, Varian joining him in his little serenade of laughter as he curled up closer against his chest. “Yeah, I’ll stay, Varian.” He whispered as the boy fell asleep on his chest. “I’ll stay for you.” he gently brushed the raven haired boy’s fringe aside and placed a kiss to his forehead, setting his glasses aside and letting himself slip into a comfortable sleep.

------------------------------

  At the noise of Yong yelling ‘Wake Up’ outside of his door, Hugo groaned and opened his eyes, unable to move with a weight on his chest. He glanced down to see Varian stirring as well. Oh yeah, Varian slept with him. As in..shared a bed together in a completely platonic and friendly way. He really needed to work on his wording, didn’t he? “Alright hairstripe, c’mon. Time to get up.” He grumbled as he pushed himself, with a surprising amount of effort needed, to his feet and put on his glasses that were resting on a table beside his larger than necessary bed. Varian followed suit with much frustration, the man absolutely hating mornings to no end. 

  Breakfast went far faster than they’d realised and soon enough they were trekking down the underground tunnels of the castle to where they had to build the Demanitus device. And, of course, the all too familiar feeling of guilt began to make Hugo feel nauseous the further they went. He didn’t want to do this anymore. All he wanted was to live the life him and Varian dreamt up last night together in the guest room. He wanted to watch Nuru become the magnificent queen she was destined to be. He wanted to watch Yong succeed in making his family proud - though he was sure he already had. He didn’t want to go back to the sad, sad life he was living before. But he was too late. In that moment, everything the old man had said fit together perfectly - like a puzzle that only had one piece remaining and he’d finally solved it. 

  He needed Varian. 

  Hugo’s feet faltered in the tunnels as the other three assembled the machine, Hugo watching them intently. No. He didn’t want to leave everything they’d built together. Every intimate and affectionate moment they shared alone, like the lanterns, the dancing and the night before. He wasn’t ready for any of this to stop. With a start, the three moved back to join him and the machine jumpstarted, a sickly blue swirling to signify it’s entrance that blew their hair around wildly. Everything was going swimmingly, until broken laughter echoed through the room and Donella revealed herself, the light from the portal lighting up her face. 

  “Well done, Hugo. You really have made me proud! Now, how about all of you step back and let me and my son do what we were always meant to do.” She declared, holding an alchemical solution in her hand, “Hugo, over here. Now.”

  “So, you’re working with her then?”

  Varian’s voice didn’t shake once, his glare cold, even though it burned straight through Hugo like a hot poker. It was uncomfortable - a calm and collected look on his face, though Hugo could tell there was murderous intent behind those azure eyes that were fixed on him. He didn’t even register the angered looks of Nuru and Yong or the feeling of Donella’s rough hands resting on his shoulders - all he could see or focus on was the man in front of him.

  “Why of course he was! The plan was always to betray you. Why else would he return the totem to you after stealing it so efficiently? We knew you’d be a problem as Ulla’s son. I’d honestly thought all her research had died with her in that wretched place, but no. One part of her still remained. So I told him to stay with all of you until you had all the totems, so it would be easier for us to get in. And it worked!” She laughed once again, doubling over with a wide smile and crossing her arms over her stomach.

  “Varian I’m sorry.” he whispered, his voice seeming too weak to even belong to him. He couldn’t believe how vulnerable he’d made himself only the night before with his boy. All the walls he’d built up over the past twenty one years had crumbled at his feet in this one moment, Varian’s face contorting in disgust as he turned away from Hugo. Hugo could swear he felt his heart physically shatter in his chest as he watched the other stare at the entrance to the library and step even closer. His hair blew wildly the closer he stepped towards it. “Varian please, I didn’t know!-” he cried desperately.

  “I’m going in. Don’t be here when I get back.” he yelled, running through and entering the library. As soon as he could, Hugo ran to try and enter, his body merely colliding with the now-locked entrance of the portal, a magical seal put on it. Pain reverberated through his body, him ignoring it as he kept fruitlessly slamming his body against the entrance to no avail. No. No no no this was NOT how it was meant to happen! They were a team and were meant to do this together! Well- he supposed Nuru, Varian and Yong were the team now, since Hugo’s initial less than sweet intentions had been revealed, but..judging by how they were standing beside him with their arms folded and Donella trapped in one of Varian’s goo solutions..they felt just as betrayed.

  “Guys.” Hugo stuttered as he slowly backed away. “Look, I know you two hate me-” 

  “Hate is an understatement.” Nuru began, her tone bitter and dripping with hatred, “You used us. You hurt all of us and now, because of your momentous fuck up, Varian has trapped himself in the library with NO WAY of getting to him because you couldn’t swallow your pride for one second! You’re so-god, you’re worse than Donella!” her voice progressed into a yell, shoving a finger into his chest as Yong stood back in shock at the outburst. “You’re evil, Hugo! Absolutely evil! So just leave!”

  “Listen to me, Nuru!” Hugo declared, stepping forward as he looked down at the hurt girl in front of him, “I know I fucked up and I was wrong, but I swear to you I was going to turn on Donella! I love Varian more than anything else in this life and I am going in there to apologise whether you like it or not, because he is the one thing I know for certain I can’t live without! I regret everything I’ve done and I need to go to him! I’ll get out of your hair and Yong’s but please for the love of god, set your biases aside and understand that I love him and need to go to him now! Please!” he yelled, brushing away tears that he hadn’t even realised were running down his cheeks before turning and continuing his relentless pounding against the door. 

  By some miracle, the lock on the library broke down and Hugo, unluckily, fell straight to the floor with a loud ‘oof’. The pain, however, wasn’t his main concern as he forced himself to his feet and began sprinting across the marble floor and passing the endlessly tall bookshelves. They towered over him and formed a mini labyrinth as he tried to track down Varian and find his way to where he could be. He desperately needed to apologise to the boy. His footsteps only grew faster as the screaming and sobbing started, providing him with an indicator of the direction he needed to go and a deep pit of dread and guilt that developed in his stomach as it grew louder and louder. This was all his fault. 

  Hugo turned a corner, met with the sight of Varian on his knees. His fingers pulled at his hair as his eyes glowed a sickly neon green, tears trailing down from his eyes with his waistcoat open as he shook. A transparent woman stood behind him, a maniacal grin on her face as she inflicted pain upon the man on the floor. “Let him go!” Hugo yelled, sprinting over and breathing heavily as he desperately tried to get to Varian to try and help him. 

  “Oh hello there!” Varian’s lips moved, though a woman’s voice came out as Varian’s fist swung and connected with Hugo’s right cheek, knocking him aside and his glasses falling off his face to the marble floor with the right lens cracking. “Pleasure to meet you! I’m Ulla!” her voice was far too chirpy for what she was doing, manipulating Varian’s body to stand over him. 

  “Varian! Varian listen to me! Please, you need to fight her! We need you! I need you!” He yelled, trying to get through to the other man as Ulla controlled Varian’s body, moving a boot to step on Hugo’s chest. His air was getting far too restricted, the pressure on his chest hurting as Ulla kept pressing down more and more. He started to lose consciousness, his vision blacking out as he struggled to get air. It hurt so much. “Varian, please! Come back to me! I love you!” he cried out before his vision went completely black. 

  When he came to, he found his glasses placed on his face and his head in Varian’s lap, staring up at the tear-stained face of the man in question. “Hugo.” His voice rasped as he pulled him into a hug, Hugo’s ribs burning as Varian gave him a bone crushing hug. “You came back-oh my god you came back-”

  “I’m so sorry, Varian.” Hugo croaked as his hand moved to the back of Varian’s head, playing with the strands of his coal hair. His eyes shut as he held the other man close on the library floor. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t-I’m an absolute idiot.” he apologised profusely as Varian tried to shush him. 

  “Hugo. Hugh, I forgive you.” The blue eyed man shuffled back and cupped Hugo’s cheek with his hand, a tearful smile on his face. “I love you too.” He said, voice soft with affection, as he leaned forwards and their lips joined in a dainty yet exhausted first kiss, bruises and cuts covering their faces and body. Neither cared though, content to be with each other once again after everything they’d just been through. Hugo shuffled away from the kiss, wincing at the pain in his ribs from Ulla’s relentless attack. “Shit, you’re hurt. C’mon. We should get back to the others.” Varian muttered to himself, moving to his feet and helping Hugo up who swung an arm around his shoulders. The pair stumbled, their limbs aching with pain as they approached the portal to the library. Glancing at each other one last time, Hugo gave Varian a kiss on the cheek and they walked through with gentle smiles on their face.

------------------------------

  Three months later and he, Varian and Donella had found a way to officially open the library’s doors for good permanently. Three months later and he and Varian had been declared the official librarians, now teaching students interested in alchemy about the art. Three months later and Nuru had found a way to mitigate the effects of the meteor and Yong had become a prodigy in his own right back in Koto. Three months later and Corona was having a large ball in celebration of the library’s opening. Three months later and Hugo still felt guilt gnawing away at him each and every time he looked at his partner.

  He didn’t deserve any of this. All the joy and newfound family and immediate forgiveness from everyone around him. He was a bad person - he’d hurt Nuru and Yong. He’d hurt Varian, so how did they all forgive him so quickly? Over the past few months, he’d only come to one conclusion: they were all faking it. They were all faking that he was forgiven so they could all stab him in the back later. He supposed he deserved it, if he was being honest, for everything they’d let him get away with, with almost no consequences for his actions. He had everything he wanted in life, but he didn’t deserve it whatsoever. He didn’t deserve his loving boyfriend.

  Hugo sighed as he leant against the wall, watching everyone celebrate the occasion, yet he couldn’t be happy for them. Varian glanced over at him, a saddened smile on his face as he walked over to Hugo. “Hey babe, how about we get outta here and go to bed? It’s pretty late and I know you hate nobles as much as I do.” He called out over the music in the room, Hugo nodding in agreement before their fingers intertwined and they exited the large ballroom to head to their bedroom. 

--------------------------

  “You know we all hate you, right?” Nuru’s voice echoed in his head as he glanced down at her, fury in her voice as she kept edging closer to him. “You’re a monster for everything you did. You don’t deserve anything you have.”   “She’s right and you know it.” Yong said from behind him. They were both ganging up on him now. Suffocating him and cornering him. “You hurt all of us, what makes you think we’ve even forgiven you?”

  “Guys, wait-” Hugo pleaded, his back hitting a figure behind him. Hugo turned to see Varian glaring up at him. “Varian are you okay?” he whispered, reaching his hand out before it was slapped away by the man in front of him. 

  “You really think I actually love a monster like you? You’re disgusting. You thought you could play me like everyone else in your sad little life to hurt me more than you already have. You don’t even deserve the oxygen you breathe.” Varian snapped. 

  “Varian-” Hugo choked out between tears, feeling the other rest his hands on his chest and shove him back roughly. He felt himself falling deeper and deeper into the dark abyss around him, with no way of reaching the trio that were already leaving him for dead. “Varian! VARIAN!” he screamed out. 

  “Varian!” Hugo called out breathily as he sat bolt upright in bed, his chest heaving and eyes searching round frantically for the other male. Luckily, he found his target fast asleep behind him, his warmth providing him with some comfort among his distress. Hugo slowly laid back and turned away from Varian onto his side, staring at the wall in the darkness as he let himself drift off deep into thought.

  Of course Varian would find it hard to forgive him - he was finding it hard to forgive himself for hurting the man next to him and he wasn’t sure if he ever would. After all, it had only been three months since their showdown in the library and he’d convinced himself that Varian only said he loved him as some kind of messed up thank you. His eyes narrowed as he stared at the wall, turning on his side in their small bed before arms snaked around his waist and a gentle kiss was placed to the base of his neck, courtesy of the subject of his thoughts.

  “I can hear the cogs in your head turning...what’s wrong, sweetheart?” his boyfriend whispered, his lips ghosting over the nape of his neck with every word he spoke from those beautiful, rosy lips. Slender fingers traced little circles on his hip to calm him, the warm figure behind him whispering sweet nothings. “If it’s about what happened three months ago..”

  “Yeah it is, Varian. How? How could you love someone like me after all the things I’ve done?” Hugo pushed himself up into a sitting position, his eyes refusing to meet the other’s face out of fear for what he’d see. Disgust? Hatred? Pity? Whatever it was, he didn’t want to see it. He didn’t deserve his sympathy. “I took advantage of you, Varian, after you’d been hurt so much..I was so...blind to what I needed that I didn’t even- god, I’m an idiot!” he pulled at his hair as tears threatened to flow down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry. You deserve so much better than a mess like me.” 

  “Hugh, darling. I…” Varian let out a small sigh and sat up, taking his freckled hands and wrapping them around Hugo’s wrists gently. He lowered his hands to stop their assault on his hair, the pair locking eyes. “You heard the stories about the lost princess, right? And about the dashing rogue who saved her? Well, they went to see the lanterns and..apparently that’s when they fell in love. I never understood it before. They’d call each other their new dreams and that they were meant to be together and could tell in that moment. Well, I didn’t understand it until I met you, Hugo. I..wanted to share that moment alone with you before the trials, because..well, you are my new dream. I don’t...I could never hate you, Hugo. Even after your betrayal, you still came back and were the one to save me. We’ve both done some terrible, terrible things, but here we are. We bounced back. I know it’s hard to forgive yourself after something like that, but I forgive you. And for the record, I wouldn’t want anyone other than you. I love you, Hugo.”

  “I...I love you too, goggles.” he whispered before he laid back down and pulled his boyfriend closer and into a tighter hug than before, peppering kisses along his face, relenting as he slowly drifted back to sleep in a comforting embrace with Varian’s warmth and weight in his arms.

[perthshirecottage]

Project Obsidian

Varian frowned as he considered Eugene’s proposal. A weapon that could be used against Cassandra. Varian’s heart constricted painfully to think about creating something that would be used to hurt one of his friends. He knew the best way to do it of course, using the same alchemical compound that encased his dad in amber. Varian shook the thought away not wanting to think about the connotation that the same substance that nearly ruined his life would be used to purposefully harm another person. 

Varian hated the thought of creating such a device, but he didn’t outright toss the idea aside either. After being her prisoner, Varian had come to realize that Cassandra was passed the point of reason. Varian remembered what that was like. To only want to cause others to feel pain, to want to drag them as low as he felt so that he wouldn’t be alone in his sorrow, to make someone, anyone, understand even the slightest bit of agony he faced every day. The biggest difference between himself and Cassandra is that Varian knew that what he was doing was wrong. It’s why Varian refused to let the Queen speak after he captured her. He knew that what he was doing was the only way to free his father, but he didn’t want to hear any arguments because he had felt in his heart of hearts that if he gave anyone the opportunity he could be talked out of his plans and Varian couldn’t afford the chance that if he stopped, if he gave into the grief and realized the blame for his predicament lie with him and not Rapunzel, he would fall apart and never get up. If he wasn’t fighting to free his dad because he couldn’t move, well, Rapunzel and the King had already proven that they weren’t going to bother trying to save his dad. Or so Varian had convinced himself at the time. But despite everything he had done, everyone he had hurt, Rapunzel still found it in herself to forgive him and to free his dad. It was far more than he deserved but here he was, finally happy and working to wrong the mistakes of the past. Cassandra thought she was truly right and justified in her decisions and that made her even more dangerous. 

But, this wasn’t how he thought he would redeem himself. 

Varian bit his lip as he mulled over his options. He could say no and Eugene wouldn’t think less of him for it. Eugene had been very clear that if Varian didn’t want to build a weapon then he didn’t have to. Varian strongly considered telling Eugene that he wouldn’t, that he couldn’t, create another means of destruction (Varian was still reeling from the Rooster incident, even if technically wasn’t his fault it was still his invention and he had to make up for what had happened. He should have known that Lance couldn’t resist adding more Flynnolim and double checked that the right amount had been added). 

What if she hurts someone, his mind whispered, and you could have stopped it, then wouldn’t you be responsible for anyone else who was injured.  Varian closed his eyes, releasing a deep sigh. He was going to do it. He was going to build a device that would stop Cassandra in her tracks. 

It had to be done. Cassandra wasn’t going to stop of her own volition. The only reason that Varian hadn’t succeeded in killing Cassandra, the Queen, or Rapunzel on that fateful day was because Rapunzel had learned to control the black rocks. Varian shuddered to think what he would have done if she hadn’t stopped him. If Varian had gone through with it (and Varian wasn’t delusional enough to think he wouldn’t have in his mindset at the time), then he would have never recovered from his actions. He would have been lost to the darkness forever, unable to come back from such permanent consequences, his soul gone for good, ripped out to soothe his aching heart. 

This machine would be Cassandra’s black rocks. It would stop her before she could go too far. Cassandra had already gone so far already. The image of Cassandra trapped in amber just like his dad flashed through Varian’s mind, stealing his breath away. Varian pushed past the thought, determined not to dwell on such things. Varian consoled himself with the knowledge that amber wouldn’t hurt Cassandra. His dad had been trapped for over a year and had suffered no ill effects. This solution would be temporary, just long enough to figure out how to take the moonstone from Cassandra so she couldn’t hurt anyone else, then Rapunzel could use that incantation to free Cassandra from her prison. It would be a better prison that the one Varian had been in. He had been aware of the passage of time with nothing to do but dwell on each and every one of his shortcomings, alone except for Andrew who only worked to heighten Varian’s uncertainties and use Varian to take over the kingdom. Cassandra wouldn’t be aware of the passage of time and would wake up to find her friends ready and waiting to help her. By using the amber it also meant that in a fight no one would have the chance to hurt Cassandra while defending themselves. It really was best for everyone. Cassandra wouldn’t hurt anyone and no one would hurt Cassandra. Varian sat up straight, wiping the tears off his face and got started on working up some blueprints. 

                           *       *           *             *             *           *

“Alright, Team Awesome!” Varian yelled, trading the secret handshake with Eugene. Varian smiled widely his head light from giddiness. He and Eugene had a secret handshake! This test was going so much better than the Rooster. Eugene actually listened to Varian (for the most part) and hadn’t attempted to make any last minute changes to Varian’s design. The invention itself worked like a charm which there weren’t a whole lot of Varian’s inventions that worked this well so that was definitely going in the win column. As long as Varian ignored what the invention was going to be used for he could say he was honestly having a blast. “Project Obsidian is a success!”

“Project Obsidian?”

Varian and Eugen whirled around at the sound of Rapunzel’s voice, Varian shoving the weapon behind his back on instinct, “Project Obsidian. It’s a device that can destroy Cassan..,” Eugen bumped Varian to stop him from completing the thought,”...dra’s self esteem.” Realizing what he almost said, Varian took off, not wanting to deal with Rapunzel’s wrath. Varian couldn’t hear what Rapunzel and Eugene were saying over the loud pounding in his ears. Varian had been so caught up in the euphoria of a successful test and bonding with Eugene that he had actually said, had thought...that. The point of this was not to destroy Cassandra, it was to stop her so they could help her. Varian felt like he might throw up. He stood there for a long moment taking deep breaths and pushing the nausea down. How could he have said that? Cassandra was his friend and he just, he just… Varian pulled his device and aimed and fired. It took some concentration to shoot the device so that it hit its mark and was the distraction that Varian needed to keep from thinking anymore about, well, about what he had been thinking about. He fired a couple more shots until he didn’t feel like throwing up or crying anymore.

Clearing his head helped a bit. Varian walked back over to where Eugene and Rapunzel were talking, “Princess, believe me, I don’t want to hurt Cass either, but we can’t promise that she won’t try to hurt us,” Varian had to make sure that Rapunzel understood why he was making this. It wasn’t because he wanted to, it was because he had to. Cass couldn’t be allowed to hurt another person. Varian didn’t want that on her conscience or for anything to happen to someone. 

“Fine, I will sign it but I know we won’t have to use it because the Cass we love and know is still in there,” Rapunzel snatched the paper and quill from Eugene, angrily writing her name at the bottom. Varian ignored the sinking feeling in his gut. This was necessary. Varian knew, better than anyone, that at this point, Cassandra wasn’t going to stop. They would have to take drastic measures, just like they had had to do for him. And unlike his other inventions, this device was going to help, Varian would make sure of it. 

               *                  *                *                 *               *                 *

Varian sat atop one of the palace horses, his device strapped to his back in case of an emergency. Eugene was worried that such a big event would be the perfect target if Cassandra decided to make her move. Varian insisted that he was the only one allowed to use the Obsidian device and was therefore stationed with Eugene in the guard. Varian was glad Eugene had agreed that only Varian could use his device. After the disaster that was the testing of the Rooster, Varian was even more scared of letting someone else with no training handle his inventions. In fact, Varian hadn’t let the Obsidian device out of his sight since he built it just to prevent anyone from accidentally or intentionally messing up the parameters he had set. 

Varian hoped that Eugene was wrong and that Cassandra wouldn’t pull anything but Varian couldn’t deny that it was the perfect opportunity to attack. He would have taken advantage of the festivities when everyone was distracted. It was very different to be here, trusted to help defend the people instead of being on the other side. It was a nice change if not for the still looming threat. One day Varian would go to one of these things without some kind of threat and all his friends by his side. 

One of the guards suddenly ran up to them, exclaiming, “Captain, Cassandra is in Corona. She’s attacking Rapunzel!” Varian shared a determined look with Eugene, both of them pulling on their reigns, heading in the direction of the festival. 

When they got there Cassandra was sending up black rocks, knocking back the guards that were trying to stop her. Varian hopped off his horse, pulling the Obsidian device off his back. As Varian took aim at Cassandra he couldn’t stop the doubts that crept into his head. A few minutes ago he had been so sure that he was doing the right thing, but now he wasn’t so sure. 

“Hold your fire,” Eugene held his hand out as if Varian had any intention of firing his device. Looking down the scope, Varian wasn’t sure he had it in him to pull the trigger. He knew that Cassandra was hurting the guards, that she had to be stopped. Varian knew logically that it wouldn’t hurt Cassandra, but as he thought about actually firing his alchemical device all Varian could think about was his father being encased. Could he do that to another person, especially a friend?  Varian bit his lip hoping that he wouldn’t need to shoot. 

Suddenly the Obsidian device fired on its own. 

The amber began growing, covering Cassandra and keeping her held in place. Varian stared in horror. No, no, no, no. This was just like what happened to his dad all over again. Why couldn’t Varian do anything right? 

“No!” Rapunzel whipped around, anger distorting her features, “I said we didn’t need to attack her!”

Varian looked down at the Obsidian device, shame heating his cheeks, “I, I don’t know what happened! It mu...must have malfunctioned!” How could he have ever thought this was a good idea? He had just trapped Cassandra!

There was a cracking noise emanating from the amber, drawing everyone’s attention away from Varian. The amber flew across the courtyard by Cassandra. Varian blinked in surprise, stunned for a moment that Cassandra had managed to break apart the amber. He thought only the reverse incantation could do that. “Project Obsidian, huh? Zhan Tiri was right.”

“Cassandra…”

Rapunzel was cut off by Cassandra, “You want me to be the bad guy? Fine, now I’m the bad guy,” Varian was snapped out of his shock by the absolute rage that consumed Cassandra’s face as she pulled a jar out of her bag. This was all his fault.

“Cassandra, no!” Rapunzel attempted to stop Cassandra but was unable to as she threw the jar on the ground and a blue cloud of smoke emerged causing Rapunzel to fall unconscious. Varian wasn’t sure what it was, but it couldn’t be good. 

“No!” Eugene ran forward, picking Rapunzel up and setting her on Max who turned and ran, presumably taking Rapunzel somewhere safe. Eugene turned back towards Cassandra, preparing himself for a fight. Cassandra immediately flung Eugene backwards with the black rocks, and trapping more of the guards in cages like the one she had tapped Varian in when he was her prisoner. 

Varian stepped forward, hoping that maybe, just maybe he could talk some sense into Cassandra. She had for a moment seemed open to listening to Rapunzel until he had ruined everything. Now Rapunzel was injured and gone, so he had to try, “Cassandra! Please, this is your home!”

“Not anymore!” Varian’s heart dropped as it hit him that he had thoroughly messed everything up, “Corona falls today!” Cassandra’s voice rang through the courtyard, destroying any hope that Varian had of ending this peacefully. 

Cassandra then began using the rocks to attack the civilians that had come out to enjoy the day’s festivities. The next several minutes were a blur as Varian used the Obsidian device to try and destroy as many of the black rocks as he could. After how horribly wrong everything had gone, he was glad that he had found some way to protect the people. Maybe his device wasn’t all bad.  

One of the black rocks jutted out of the ground directly in front of Varian knocking the Obsidian device out of his hands. Despite the danger Varian couldn’t help but stare despondently at his work. It had caused so much more destruction, but he had also been able to help the people by stopping the black rocks. Another rock burst out of the ground near Varian, jolting him out of his somber contemplation. 

“Fall back,” Eugene yelled. Varian didn’t need to be told twice. The rocks had filled so much of the courtyard that he could barely move without running into one. As he and Eugene ran out of the courtyard Varian could sense the rocks dogging their steps. By the time they made it out of Corona, Varian’s heart was racing so hard it felt like it was about to burst. His heart stopped when he turned around to see that the entire city was completely covered in black rocks. 

Project Obsidian was not a success.

[charismaquark]

Cassandrium: an alchemical analysis

One of the questions I've always had about "Great Expotations" is, what exactly is Cassandrium? Varian describes it as "a new element", and I like to think he knows what he's talking about. Especially since Cassandrium is the only substance he describes this way- his earlier creation, Flynnoleum, is not an element but a 'compound'. (This is an important distinction in chemistry: the difference being that an element is made up of singular atoms, like you would find on the periodic table, whereas compounds are made up of multiple types of atoms bonded together in molecules. And this fits perfectly with the way that Flynnoleum apparently powers Varian's reactors through energy-releasing 'chemical reactions'!)

So, could Cassandrium be a real element that we could find on the periodic table? In this post I will present three theories, from least to most plausible, on its true alchemical nature.

THEORY #1: CASSANDRIUM IS AN UNDISCOVERED SUPERHEAVY ELEMENT

We’ve already discovered all the elements with atomic numbers from 1 to 118, and none of them have properties that exactly match Cassandrium. So what if it’s a REALLY new element with an even higher number? Once you get past uranium (element 92), all the elements we’ve found are highly unstable and will break down within a few seconds. However, scientists have theorized that some undiscovered elements might be part of an ‘island of stability’, where they have just the right nuclear configuration to be stable for a much longer time. And since we haven’t created any of these hypothetical elements yet... who knows, maybe one of them could look like Cassandrium.

This theory would also imply that Varian has somehow engineered a nuclear fusion reactor, which is pretty impressive but probably gave most of Corona radiation poisoning. Oops.

THEORY #2: CASSANDRIUM IS IODINE

Most elements that we know of are metals, but there is exactly one which is a purplish crystal at room temperature: iodine. Tangled is set in the 1780s (according to an interview with the creators), and iodine was discovered in 1811- so it’s very believable that no one in the setting would ever have seen it before.

However, iodine is also a toxic skin irritant, so... probably not a good idea to put it on a necklace.

THEORY #3: CASSANDRIUM IS A TRANSITION METAL

This is the most fun and believable theory in my opinion, but it relies on Varian having dramatized his explanation a little bit. Perhaps the pretty crystal (which we might call ‘Cassandrite’) is actually a glassy mineral similar to amethyst: silica quartz colored purple by trace impurities of a transition metal. (Transition metals are the elements in the center section of the periodic table.) This works with how Varian describes the workings of his ‘Elemental Remogrifier’:

In other words, the machine melts the sand (which is made of silica and trace deposits of other substances!) and then uses the pressure created by the rotational force to force it to solidify. (Slightly irrelevant side note: as a physics student I appreciate how Varian talks about counter-centrifugal force, i.e. what we would call centripetal force. Despite common misconception, centrifugal force does not technically exist!)

A pure silica crystal would be colorless, but Cassandrite is purple- which is presumably how Varian was able to realize that there was some kind of metal inside the mineral he created. That metal is the element which he names Cassandrium! This again fits with the scientific timeline, since many transition metals were not discovered until the 1800s.

Here’s where this concept gets really fun: transition metals can be mixed into steel to form new alloys which can be even stronger than regular steel. So if Cassandrium is actually a metal, and one day Varian discovers its applications in metallurgy...

The Cassandrite necklace was cute. But just imagine how impressive it would be to create a sword forged from Cassandrian steel.

[drsilverfish]

DrSilverfish S14 Meta Masterpost

Well, what a wild ride S14 has been. An extremely rich season for meta, and one of the best seasons of the show, ever (in my view, YMMV). It’s been a blast sharing it with all of you, week by week, on the hoof. Thanks for all the discussion, shared sleuthing and musing, gifs, art, fic, meta and more. 

And thanks also to all the readers of, and commenters on, this blog. Reading the tags and replies on Tumblr is still one of the best things. 

High points? The writers’ room’s use of mythology (Greek, Biblical, folktale) this season has been rich and satisfying, but in particular their borrowing of Jung’s psychological drama of the encounter between the Self and the Shadow-self, and his interpretation of alchemical writing as representative of the journey of the psyche towards self-integration (for the alchemists, the journey of the soul to God) has been really beautifully crafted. 

Also, all the call-backs to previous seasons and episodes of the show, as part of Dabb’s Ouroboros narrative, used to shed light both on the past and the present; even down to matching the call backs numerologically for more snake-swallowing-its-own-tail symmetry. 

Stand out episode for me was 14x14 Ouroboros. Steve Yockey is a kick-ass writer and a master of subtext. Noah Ophis the Queer Gorgon was not only a fabulous queer villain but the call-back to Nick the Siren and 4x14 Sex and Violence really reflected on and demonstrated the show’s evolution, as we near the end of the spiral (it’s ages since any female characters have been called a “bitch” or a “whore” for one thing - phew).

Also a shout-out to Meredith Glynn’s 14x08 Byzantium for its lovely re-encounter re Castiel’s relationship to Heaven, his heart-crushing (and uber fairy-tale romantic) deal with The Shadow, as well as for revisiting the awesome Lily Sunder and adding Anubis to the SPN God-machine! 

And to Davy Perez 14x11 Damaged Goods for the most subtextually obvious but also tragically heart-breaking, reference to the Ma’lak box as the closet, thanks to Dean showering sparks all over Donna’s 1970s cowboy porn poster collection whilst building it. 

Andrew Dabb and Meredith Glynn’s 14x13 Lebanon was excellent too; lovely script, outstanding performances from the original Winchester family, a beautiful little side-meditation on who Castiel would have been, if he hadn’t raised Dean from perdition, and some more alchemical symbolism via the “pearl of great price” (AKA the Philosopher’s Stone). 

Meghan Fitzmartin and Yockey’s 14x15 Peace of Mind, was also stand-out, for its biting satire both of MAGA and Heaven, its hilarious whammied Sam (truly one of Jared’s great performances, up there with his Lucifer in The End) and its lashings of queer subtext (from Dean’s fascination with, and anxiety about,  the “snake”, to Castiel’s mirrored heavy improv involvement with Sunny’s dick-worshiping erotic epistles). 

Finally, Dabb and Sgriccia delivered a gorgeously shot, and epic, finale in 14x20 Moriah, the culmination of Dean’s long and painful encounter with the internalised Ghost of John Winchester in his psyche, as he faced, Ouroboros style, a yellow-eyed “monster” who had (apparently) killed Mary Winchester (again) and THE Father, ordering him to continue his own father’s revenge cycle. Chuck Shurley, avatar of God, ultimate dead-beat Dad and author of the SPN multi-verse, is set up to be the meta villain for the final season, as his characters struggle for true free will. 

Here’s hoping MIRROR UNIVERSE and all those zombies busting out of their graves are indeed a giant neon metaphor for the culminating revenge of SPN’s eternal queer subtext.    

Low-point of the season; re-fridging Mary Winchester as part of the Ouroboros narrative, even though Glynn and Berens handled her “death” episodes (14x17 and 14x18) beautifully. Re-staging the drama of Azazel, fathers and sons, as part of the story spiral was, of course, irresistable, and profound for our male hero characters; I get it. But, as I am still convinced this is a fake-out, Mary is not really dead, and we will see her again (see my meta from 14x17 onwards) I’m willing to wait before I write my final meta on the show’s relationship to the feminine principle (spoiler alert, a load of suckage along the way, with the possiblity for a, somewhat contingent, writers’ room redemption arc!). I am hoping both Amara, as the feminine God-principle, and Mary (they are already fundamentally linked) will return in the culmination of the narrative. Symbolically, even given this is, indelibly, a narrative about men and the bonds between them, that return of/ integration with the feminine would be the alchemical and Jungian culmination of the journey, and I’m hoping that’s what Dabb is going deliver; via Jack (Hermes/ Mercury) as the mediating principle.  

As I’m sure you all are, I’m in equal measure gutted and excited that S15 is to be the final turn of the spiral. 

Look forward to sharing all the highs and the lows, as TFW go up against Chuck Almighty himself, with Death, The Empty and metaphysical key Jack Kline Novak Winchester in the mix.  

All my meta of the season (with thanks to many of you for enlightening and fun discussion) under the cut this time, because there’s a LOT!:

1) Stranger in a Strange Land (14x01)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/178991484844/stranger-in-a-strange-land-14x01

2) Queer Gods and Monsters (14x02) 

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/179226151009/queer-gods-and-monsters-14x02

3) Dramatic Irony and Castiel in 14x02

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/179277272094/dramatic-irony-and-castiel-in-14x02-gods-and

4) Jack and Killing Dean in 14x02 (parallels with Dean and Killing Jack in 13x02 The Rising Son)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/179430025509/spookyboysam-and-that-means-that-dean-dies-too

5) 14x03 The Scar - Dean Confronts Dark!Kaia (Dopplegangers, Mirrors and John Winchester’s Ghost)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/179463975289/shirtlesssammy-14x03the-scar-meta-writers 

6) Batman vs Superman: Connection and Conflict in Mint Condition (14x04) (Plus more John Winchester’s Ghost)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/179699654684/batman-vs-superman-connection-and-conflict-in

and some added discussion and further meta with @dimples-of-discontent

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/179735406854/batman-vs-superman-connection-and-conflict-in

7) Nightmare Logic (14x05) The Winchester Family Crypt

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/179938583519/nightmare-logic-14x05-the-winchester-family

8) Uhmmn... 14x05′s Text Reference Is...? (Nightmare Logic) 

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/179940786549/uhm-14x05s-text-reference-is 

and some added discussion and further meta (on Dean and the bi-dent) with @paperwhitenarcissus

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/179975186264/uhm-14x05s-text-reference-is 

9) 14x05 Nightmare Logic and 13x14 Good Intentions - Dean’s Wardrobe Parallels -  a discussion with @postmodernmulticoloredcloak

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/179943183099/postmodernmulticoloredcloak-do-you-think-its

10) Inside Dean’s Head - 14x03 The Scar and 14x05 Nightmare Logic

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/179944031049/inside-deans-head 

11) 14x06 Optimism - Cock Meta (end comment on a multi-authored discussion)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/180184985249/14x06-cock-a-doodle-doo

12) 14x06 Optimism - a discussion with @postmodernmulticoloredcloak

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/180201135789/postmodernmulticoloredcloak-drsilverfish

13) 14x08 Byzantium (Castiel’s Relationship with Heaven)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/180903052874/byzantium-14x08

14) The Shadow 14x08 (first in a series of meta on the Jungian themes of S14)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/180906003584/the-shadow-14x08

15) 14x09 The Spear (wounds, penetrations, scars: Destiel)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/181057197034/guysjust-hold-hands-already-protective

16) 14x09 The Spear (Jungian Decoder Ring Edition) (second in a series of meta on the Jungian themes of S14)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/181122764984/14x09-the-spear-jungian-decoder-ring-edition

17) 14x09 The Spear: Ode to Joy

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/181170752319/14x09-the-spear-ode-to-joy

18) The Dean/ Cas Spiral Narrative - S13 and 14 Edition (so far)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/181231154654/the-dean-cas-spiral-narrative-s13-and-14-edition

19) Pamela Barnes in Nihilism (14x10)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182118505974/pamela-barnes-in-nihilism

20) AU!Michael and the Closet (14x10)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182120562849/aumichael-and-the-closet

21) Rocky’s Bar: A Closer Look in Dean’s Mind (14x10) 

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182142619479/rockys-bar-a-closer-look-in-deans-mind-14x10

22) Are You There, God? It’s Me, Dean Winchester (S11 Parallels - Jungian meta adjacent)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182150404304/are-you-there-god-its-me-dean-winchester

23) Pamela, The Guardian (this is actually @shirtlesssammy ‘s great meta, to which I added something on Pamela as Dean’s psychopomp and anima - Jungian meta adjacent) 

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182196788399/pamela-the-guardian-in-14x10

24) What the Light and Shadow Tells Us (some meta on the S14 promo poster and S13 and 14′s use of light and shadow - Jungian meta adjacent)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182257314199/what-the-light-and-shadow-tells-us

25) A Fridge-Locker, An Enochian Puzzle-Box, and the Closet (14x11 Damaged Goods) 

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182303909819/a-fridge-locker-an-enochian-puzzle-box-a-malak 

with some additional discussion with @magnificent-winged-beast and @verobatto-angelxhunter on subtext, canon and the show’s own closet:

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182375754379/a-fridge-locker-an-enochian-puzzle-box-a-malak

26) Jung and Dean’s Journey Towards Self-Integration in 14x11 Damaged Goods (third in a series of meta on the Jungian themes of S14) 

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182299438269/jung-and-deans-journey-towards-self-integration

27) Damaged Goods (14x11) 

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182307242539/damaged-goods-14x11

28) Cosmic Order and Entropy: What’s Death’s Game? (14x11) 

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182350642244/cosmic-order-and-entropy-whats-deaths-game

and some additional discussion with @emblue-sparks

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182380817269/cosmic-order-and-entropy-whats-deaths-game 

29) The Riddle of the Sphinx: 14z12 Prophet and Loss (a guest meta for @metafest ) (including more on the Ghost of John Winchester - Jungian meta adjacent)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182482293379/the-riddle-of-the-sphinx-14x12-prophet-and-loss

and some additional meta and discussion with @verobatto-angelxhunter

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182487467794/the-riddle-of-the-sphinx-14x12-prophet-and-loss

and some more with @emblue-sparks

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182501242824/the-riddle-of-the-sphinx-14x12-prophet-and-loss

30) Ouroboros in Prophet and Loss (14x12) (fourth in a series of meta on the Jungian themes of S14) 

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182486474324/ouroboros-in-prophet-and-loss-14x12

31) Dr. Sexy of the Lord in Prophet and Loss

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182501242824/the-riddle-of-the-sphinx-14x12-prophet-and-loss

plus self--reblog with more on the “Dr. Novak” alias

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182538453119/dr-sexy-of-the-lord-in-14x12-prophet-and-loss

32) A Pearl of Great Price - 14x13 Lebanon (fifth in a series of meta on the Jungian themes of S14) 

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182660472289/a-pearl-of-great-price-14x13-lebanon

with some additional discussion and meta with @mittensmorgul and @paperwhitenarcissus

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182667170284/a-pearl-of-great-price-14x13-lebanon

33) 14x13 Lebanon - Some Silent Storytelling Notes on the Pawn-Shop

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182666922119/14x13-lebanon-some-silent-storytelling-notes-on

34) The Bruise as a Kiss: Cinematic Queerness and the Violence Between Dean and Cas in 14x13

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182669190399/the-bruise-as-a-kiss-cinematic-queerness-and-the

35) An Angel, and Lucifer’s Kid? Queer-Coding and Dean’s “Found Family” in 14x13 Lebanon

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182794294534/an-angel-and-lucifers-kid-queer-coding-and

36) Movie Poster Meta for 14x13 (end note to a multi-authored discussion with @paintmeahero @mittensmorgul @shirtlesssammy @justanotheridijiton )

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182843848469/paintmeahero-shirtlesssammy-mittensmorgul

37) Old Timey SPN: A Fresh (Queer) Look at 4x06 Yellow Fever

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182874642184/old-timey-spn-a-fresh-queer-look-at-4x06

38) 14x14 Ouroboros Promo: Procrustes Greek Myth Meta-Spec (part of a discussion with @mittensmorgul @postmodernmulticoloredcloak - Jungian meta adjacent)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182991822784/mittensmorgul-postmodernmulticoloredcloak 

39) The Man Who Would Be King - Edlund’s Literary Allusion and 6x20

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183118270999/the-man-who-would-be-king-edlunds-literary

40) 14x14 Promo Meta Spec (a discussion with @elizabethrobertajones and @hum-bee - started Destiel, became @hum-bee ‘s meta on Castiel’s depression, then mine on the separate, but related, queer subtext narratives for Dean and Cas this season) 

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183246356449/dean-is-getting-better-at-communicating

41) The Kiss of the Queer Gorgon in 14x14 Ouroboros

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183323000224/the-kiss-of-the-queer-gorgon-in-14x14-ouroboros 

42) The Serpent and the Egg: Snake and Eye Symbology in 14x14 Ouroboros (sixth in a series of meta on the Jungian themes of S14)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183327000184/the-serpent-and-the-egg-snake-and-eye-symbology

43) Perseus, Jack and the Gorgon in 14x14

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183337497344/perseus-jack-and-the-gorgon-in-14x14

44) The Siren and the Gorgon 4x14 and 14x14

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183342830074/the-siren-and-the-gorgon-4x14-and-14x14

And with an addition:

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183368457514/the-siren-and-the-gorgon-4x14-and-14x14

45) Noah Ophis 14x14 (Meanings and the name of the Gorgon)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183363993019/noah-ophis-14x14

And some further discussion with @justanotheridijiton and @mittensmorgul

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183370426434/noah-ophis-14x14 

46) Another Alchemical Easter Egg in 14x14 (seventh in a series of meta on the Jungian themes of S14)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183388134889/another-alchemical-easter-egg-in-14x14

Plus additions and discussion with @mittensmorgul  and @trickster-archangel :

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183876036674/another-alchemical-easter-egg-in-14x14

47) The Justin Smith/ Dean Smith Ouroboros (14x15 and 4x17)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183497401344/the-justin-smith-dean-sm)ith-ouroboros 

with additional discussion with @mittensmorgul @a-bit-of-influence @verobatto-angelxhunter and @magnificent-winged-beast :

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183520934439/the-justin-smith-dean-smith-ouroboros

48) Yellow Fever Redux in 14x15 Peace of Mind

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183498528974/yellow-fever-redux-in-peace-of-mind-14x15

and with additional discussion with @magnificent-winged-beast and @verobatto-angelxhunter

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183507216399/yellow-fever-redux-in-peace-of-mind-14x15

49) Oranges are not the Only Fruit (part of a multi-authored discussion with @postmodernmulticoloredcloak and @verobatto-angelxhunter )

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183505777909/verobatto-angelxhunter-drsilverfish 

50) Do Snakes Like Bacon? (Queer-Coding) (14x15)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183505636319/celestialdean-do-snakes-like-bacon-bacon-and 

51) The Satire in Charming Acres (14x15)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183526003969/the-satire-in-charming-acres-14x15-peace-of-mind 

52) The Book of Life in Donatello’s Kitchen (14x15) with thanks to @postmodernmulticoloredcloak for the heads up!

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183528415774/postmodernmulticoloredcloak-look-what-i-found-in

53) “AU” Past Episode References in 14x15 Peace of Mind (and the Theme of Fate vs Free Will)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183549410559/au-past-episode-references-in-14x15-peace-of

and with an addition thanks to @mittensmorgul

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183568337094/au-past-episode-references-in-14x15-peace-of 

54) A Call-Back to 4x01 in 14x15 (this is an addition to a meta by @poorreputation about Charming Acres as a Metaphor for Heaven)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183570660759/spn-14x15-peace-of-mind-heaven-and-charming

55) The Bird Represents God (14x15) (an addition/ discussion on bird poop to @verobatto-angelxhunter ‘s S14 meta-spec master-post)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183582551424/my-supernatural-season-14-specs-in-one 

56) Dean Made me Watch the Lost Boys Like 20 Times (14x16 Don’t Go in the Woods)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183635993619/dean-made-me-watch-the-lost-boys-like-20-times

57) The Ghostfacers in 14x16

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183638151784/the-ghostfacers-in-14x16

58) The Kohonta, The Wendigo and..... The Winchesters? Cannibalism in 14x16

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183640736269/the-kohonta-the-wendigo-and-the-winchesters 

59) More Musings on the Signifiance of Bird Poop in 14x16 with @elizabethrobertajones @mittensmorgul and @neven-ebrez

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183648898244/elizabethrobertajones-five-p-m

60) Lucifer Rides Again?.... Games Within Games in 14x17 Game Night

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183968888069/lucifer-rides-again-games-within-games

61) A Discussion on Alchemy and the Season’s End with @occamshipper

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183972692154/thoughts-for-absencemoriah

62) Sixteenth Century Burmese Blood Rubies (14x17)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183973554064/sixteenth-century-burmese-blood-rubies-14x17

63) Cindy’s Waffle House in 14x17

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183990322609/cindys-waffle-house-in-14x17

64) Nick’s Spell in 14x17 (A Bit of Body-Snatching Spec)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183991533929/nicks-spell-in-14x17-a-bit-of-body-snatching

65) Castiel and Food: A Discussion with @bluestar86 and @tinkdw (14x17)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183993473339/this-episode-again-reminding-us-that-angels-can

66) Is Anael in League with Satan?: A Discussion with @postmodernmulticoloredcloak  

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184019357044/postmodernmulticoloredcloak

67) The Scapegoat: Speculative Musings on S14′s End (Moriah) (Linked to the Season’s Jungian Themes - Scapegoating and the Unacknowledged Shadow)  (eighth in a series of meta on the Jungian themes of S14)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184045009309/the-scapegoat-speculative-musings-on-s14s-end

with an additional note:

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184068368304/the-scapegoat-speculative-musings-on-s14s-end

68) You Can Still Be a Cookie-Baking, Cardigan-Wearing Big Softie Without a Soul (14x17 Game Night)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184063447919/you-can-still-be-a-cookie-baking-cardigan-wearing

69) Dutch Camera Angles in 14x17 - A Discussion with @mittensmorgul

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184117004089/mittensmorgul-i-was-just-thinking-of-all-the

70) 14x18 Absence: The Games Continue? (14x18)

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184131452324/14x18-absence-the-games-continue 

with additional discussion with @shirtlesssammy

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184140015899/14x18-absence-the-games-continue

71) Re-Fridging Mary Winchester: The Ouroboros Narrative Swallows its Origin Story (14x18 Absence)

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184188830889/re-fridging-mary-winchester-the-ouroboros

72) Dean Would Never Tell Cas He Was Dead To Him (14x18 - end comment on dramatic irony on a post by @superduperdestiel33 )

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184158399039/dean-would-never-tell-cas-that-he-was-dead-to-him

73) Jack, Godstiel and Jesus Parallels - A 14x19 Promo Discussion with @trickster-archangel (Jungian meta adjacent)

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184165716364/trickster-archangel-i-was-watching-the-promo

74) A Spec Discussion on the Snake, Chicken and Egg Story (14x14) in Relation to Jack and 14x19 Jack in the Box and 14x20 Moriah with @neven-ebrez and @mittensmorgul

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184234111884/neven-ebrez-neven-ebrez-mittensmorgul

75) A Pillar of Salt in 14x19 Jack in the Box

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184302344489/a-pillar-of-salt-in-14x19-jack-in-the-box

and with addition discussion with @postmodernmulticoloredcloak

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184305778829/a-pillar-of-salt-in-14x19-jack-in-the-box

76) Hallucifer or Lucifer? (14x19 Jack in the Box)

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184303628429/hallucifer-or-lucifer-14x19

77) The Wraith at Mary’s Funeral (14x19) (end comment on a discussion with @mittensmorgul and @postmodernmulticoloredcloak )

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184305430244/hi-mittens-im-not-understanding-what-the-point 

78) “So, Who’s Ready to Take on The Book of Samuel?” (14x19  Jack in the Box)

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184308630909/so-whos-ready-to-take-on-the-book-of-samuel 

79) A Discussion on Dean and Cas and Chuck and Faith (14x19) with @norahastuff

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184325713124/norahastuff-drsilverfish-norahastuff-you

80) Mary is Watching Over You.... From a Mirror Universe? (14x20 Moriah)

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184458723054/mary-is-watching-over-you-from-a-mirror

81) Fate vs Free Will - “Welcome to the End” (14x20 Moriah)

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184462086934/fate-vs-free-will-welcome-to-the-end-14x20

with additional discussion with @emblue-sparks

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184465647879/fate-vs-free-will-welcome-to-the-end-14x20

82) More Bird-Poop Meta: A Discussion with @trickster-archangel

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184501155254/trickster-archangel-it-just-occurred-to-me

83) “MIrror Universe” Meanings (14x20)

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184491569414/mirror-universe-14x20

with additional discussion with @trickster-archangel and @occamshipper 

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184508555094/mirror-universe-14x20

84) Dean’s Jungian Shadow Arc in S14: Confronting the Internal Father (2x22 to 14x20 Moriah) (ninth in a series of meta on the Jungian themes of S14)

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184507150574/deans-jungian-shadow-arc-in-s14-confronting-the

85) Jack Kline Novak Winchester: Son, TFW Mirror, Trinity and Key; Quaternity, Ouroboros, Caduceus and Harbinger of The End (14x20) (tenth in a series of meta on the Jungian themes of S14)

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184542079054/jack-kline-novak-winchester-son-tfw-mirror

86) So Who Has Been Resurrecting Castiel? (Post 14x20 Musings)

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184558105759/so-who-has-been-resurrecting-castiel-post-14x20

and with added discussion with @mittensmorgul

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184570379724/so-who-has-been-resurrecting-castiel-post-14x20

87) Chuck and Reno (14x20 plus S15 Spec on Chuck and Amara - end comment on a discussion by @tarend and @hi-im-dazey

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184580452909/chuck-and-reno

POST-SCRIPT!!!

All My Meta on the Jungian Themes of S14 Collected Together in a 10 Part Series:

1) The Shadow 14x08 

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/180906003584/the-shadow-14x08

2) 14x09 The Spear (Jungian Decoder Ring Edition) 

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/181122764984/14x09-the-spear-jungian-decoder-ring-edition

3) Jung and Dean’s Journey Towards Self-Integration in 14x11 Damaged Goods 

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182299438269/jung-and-deans-journey-towards-self-integration

4) Ouroboros in Prophet and Loss (14x12) 

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182486474324/ouroboros-in-prophet-and-loss-14x12

5) A Pearl of Great Price - 14x13 Lebanon 

 http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182660472289/a-pearl-of-great-price-14x13-lebanon

6) The Serpent and the Egg: Snake and Eye Symbology in 14x14 Ouroboros 

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183327000184/the-serpent-and-the-egg-snake-and-eye-symbology

7) Another Alchemical Easter Egg in 14x14 

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/183388134889/another-alchemical-easter-egg-in-14x14 

8) The Scapegoat: Speculative Musings on S14′s End (Moriah) (Linked to the Season’s Jungian Themes - Scapegoating and the Unacknowledged Shadow) 

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184045009309/the-scapegoat-speculative-musings-on-s14s-end

9) Dean’s Jungian Shadow Arc in S14: Confronting the Internal Father (2x22 to 14x20 Moriah)

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184507150574/deans-jungian-shadow-arc-in-s14-confronting-the

10) Jack Kline Novak Winchester: Son, TFW Mirror, Trinity and Key; Quaternity, Ouroboros, Caduceus and Harbinger of The End (14x20) 

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184542079054/jack-kline-novak-winchester-son-tfw-mirror

[abundantchewtoys]

Homestuck^2 re: Chapter 3 “How Are Your Feelings” p96-118

So, the next chapter appears to be about an attempted feelings jam.

I think it might be too early yet for the pursuing crew, so maybe we'll have a look at Karkat and Meenah?

Though if there's ever a way for the pursuing crew or Dirk's crew to meet up with the new teens, I'm fully expecting Vrissy to have a "mom?" moment re: Kanaya or Rosebot.

---

Page 96

OOoooh!! Okay, so I was wrong.

Hah, that does look like something Jake would do - build a fleet of wildy different space ships.

Plus, it's an emerald pirate ship... In pursuit of a great white whale- I mean shark. Hah!

So yeah... It's been three years since Rose and Kanaya were together. :/

I suspect the crew is made up out of Dave, Karkat, Jade (perhaps possessed) and Roxy. But that'd mean Jane had the run of Earth C for all this time, and Calliope is back there in a worsening political climate.

Hmmm... Maybe Roxy would have chosen to bring their partner along though. Even though Callie is upset by the presence of her other self. In any case, I wonder what they look like! Whether they're still a deadringer for Dave.

---

Page 97

Pfff, what an exhaust pipe. I love the visual pun.

---

Page 98

Woooww, this reminds me of Problem Sleuth / Midnight Crew visuals! So purple though. Whose room is this, Roxy's? (It might be closer to violet than purple.)

Ooh boy, Calliope's about to take over the narrative. So she hasn't let poor Jade out of her grasp, or at least not definitely.

---

Page 99

D'aaaaahh, she's a frickin devil now. PFfffffffff, this is Dave and Karkat's room! Glad to see Davekat's still canon.

I bet this might be a recurring occurence, Jade/Calliope coming in at the most impossible hours bearing ominous tidings.

Hihih, so she's taken over the command box only for now. I suppose it's a clever way to show she could still take over the narrative is she was so inclined.

---

Page 100

Dave is more upset with Karkat than Jade, pffff.

---

Page 101

Ooooh, new outfits! Wait, Calliope made herself a new outfit. :/ She's getting comfortable in that new body.

Karkat has a Time shirt for a pyjama, hahah. I'm pretty sure he fell on his sweater, which probably still bears the Cancer sign.

Cool to have a squinting version of Dave's sprite. Now all we still need is one with his eyes wide open, but this is a start.

I'd start wondering if Calliope's starting to be a bit lonely, reaching out to Karkat and Dave like this with her message. And yup, she does it all the time. Dave's blasé about it.

---

Page 102

Welp! Jade's doing the Possesion 180-degree turn of the head now.

Return of the gross, oil-slick coffee machine from the meteor, maybe? :P

---

Page 103

Oh cool, at first glance Roxy's appearance is that jarring. Maybe her coup is a little shorter than before, but not as short as she wore it during the Meat epilogues, near the end. Guess she might be working through some of the same things as Candy Roxy and understanding she doesn't have to go all non-binary if that isn't where her heart is up at in.

Also, cool shades! Though, of course, a Heart is a bit of a faux pas perhaps, giving who they're chasing. :P

So Jade at least spent the first part of the voyage more silent. But as her powers grow, she has more control over Jade's body. :/

Cool, Dave has Karkat's shirt as part of his jammies. Roxy just went with a full on hoodie. At least I think it's her jammies, she's reading at the kitchen table but it's probably still night.

---

Page 104

Pfff. Welp. Yes Roxy, mirroring what you think your ancestors were doing ends up looking dumber when you actually meet them in person.

---

Page 105

ooooh, okay, so her hair is back to mirroring Dave's coupe. Roxy's hair is a bird pass it on. I love the sprite art, also of the kitchen itself.

Cool to have a comparison is size between meteor and this ship. Though with even less to explore, I can see how things might have grown dull around here. Also confirmation of Roxy's pronoun change, still a thing.

And I have a feeling Dave and Kanaya are in for a feelings jam.

Blaperile has a point, maybe Calliope commands the attention of the narrative, but she commands the narrative itself, so she can make the story follow Dave instead, as he goes to find Kanaya.

---

Page 106

Cool, even the inside looks like a pirate ship. Jake's quite taken with matters of appearances, practicalities be damned! :P

I suppose alchemizing a spaceship and a sailing boat would result in still a viable means to cross the void, the physics behind alchemization would ensure it.

---

Page 107

That appears to be a different hairstyle or hood. ... Is she wearing a grieving gown?

Maybe she's contemplating how she's ended up here, having to deal with another clown coming between her and her loved ones. I wonder how much harm she's wishing to heap onto Dirk, I mean.

---

Page 108

Aww, that rose in her hood.

And yup, Dave has it pinned down: they keep finding themselves either literally or figuratively chasing through the void, with no idea what's coming. You know, remembering how Dave saw the meteor as his first real home, I get the idea he might be the most in his element here. But he knows it's not a healthy pastime.

---

Page 109

She's wearing a ribbon much like Rose used to wear.

What story could Rose have reserved for reading to grubs, and what are the odds Vrissy knows the story as well, having been raised by Rose?

---

Page 110

It is on point for both Kanaya to read too much into Rose's story, as well as Rose putting all that symbolism in it on purpose.

... Aww, she's really hurting. But through the hurt she's started to wonder, perhaps in an attempt to limit her pain, whether she isn't being manipulated into feeling like this. At this point, it could really be either.

---

Page 111

Wow. Okay, Dave's really opening up here to Kanaya. It was actually a relationship I didn't really see evolving due to both of their inherent awkwardness.

But that's Dave for you. If you find a place in his heart, he'll die before he lets you go into harm's way alone.

---

Page 113

Turntable gesture! And okay, yes, via Dave it's shown Roxy's back to identifying male after the past few years.

Yes, his and Karkat shit has definitely changed, for one, Karkat almost unabashedly acknowledges they're matesprits back there in the kitchen.

And it's Kanaya who does the title drop after all, not Dave like I was starting to think.

---

Page 114

Awww, yeah, Dave is really the only one left of the old B1 crew in a normal state of mind. Here's to hoping his brush with Davebot doesn't leave him in a state like Callie.

And yes, Dirk has shown his true colours, and Dave is feeling like a runt for ever thinking he could be different from his Bro. :/ Poor guy, I feel for him.

Meanwhile, he innocently hopes that Dirk's influence was the only thing causing Jane and Jake not being good leaders for Earth. Too bad we know the alternative is far from good.

Though he's also oversimplifying, since he himself said that Earth C society wasn't sustainable in the long run, they just sped things up.

Aww, he admits to feeling more in his element out here. Yeah, I very much understand that. It's easier to deal with fewer people in your social circles, a lot of the time.

---

Page 116

Ah, the other side of the coin. Dave and Kanaya are bonding over Rose. Karkat and Roxy are kind of related as well through Dave.

Oooooh, so Calliope DID come along. Brave of her, with how "Jade" unnerves her so.

Karkat's right, the people that left weren't really so close to him as to others, he mostly here to support Dave! But of course we know he really would be good at leading at least a rebellion. Though it wouldn't really feel fulfilling either.

I wonder what's in store for Karkat, in fact, if it isn't to be a leader.

"KARKAT: I LITERALLY FOUGHT PEOPLE FOR CONTROL OF THE TEAM, AND WHAT ENDED UP HAPPENING WAS LITERALLY EVERY SINGLE ONE OF MY FRIENDS BESIDES KANAYA DIED. KARKAT: ACTUALLY, SHE DID DIE! KARKAT: FUCK! KARKAT: I’M ZERO FOR ZERO! ROXY: ur kinda an intense dude anybody ever tell u that KARKAT: NO."

Best interaction. Is Roxy really going to help Karkat deal with something here? :P

---

Page 117

Hah! Yes, well, I guess Karkat already has his win state the way he wants it! Though he's still feeling conflicted about it on some level, but that's just the type of person he is.

Roxy's REALLY gunning to make pancakes, hahah. Guess a part of her really is good at the whole caring thing.

---

I definitely like the pacing of the chapters so far. Good combo of visuals and conversation.

[teratoscope]

reverse cargo cultist

TexorcistYou wake in the dark.Your suit stares at you, empty, at the far side of the room. It’s bound, likeyou—hung from the rafters. The chassis is daubed with glyphs from a script youcan’t parse, a bit like Cyrillic but squirmier. They glisten in the firelight.Your captors file inin silence. Underneath the stitched-and-stenciled alchemical equations andwarding signs the body armor is familiar—time-worn and ill-fitting on some, butobviously of Freestar One make. The veils, however, are new. Sturdy red cloth,riveted in place over the ballistic helmet, draping down to chest-height. Noholes for eyes.When the knives comeout it’s not you they dismantle. It’s the suit. They’re gentle with it,levering it apart along all the weakest points. Your breathing slows, suddenlylabored. The air feels thickened. Somethingis congealing; something your captors accounted for. Six of them form acorridor between you and your dismembered armor, careful not to enter thecleared ten-foot circle of floorspace at the center of this decrepit little barn.It starts as a greasy gray-browncloud, steadily collapsing into a fat lozenge of roiling, weightless gunk. Something dark wriggles in the center,waiting to be born.  HD 3 MV 120’ AC 15 AT Fist of Dysfunction(d6 kinetic, on a hit that beats target AC by 4 or better a piece of equipment onthe target’s person gains Smash 6 or halves its current Smash rating) or byweapon Special machine empath, summon/bind gremlin psychoplasm

Machine empath—a Texorcistmay spend an exploration turn communing with a piece of complex machinery. Atthe end of the exploration turn, the Texorcist has intimate knowledge of themachine’s history and internal workings, and will be able to service, operate, and/orreproduce it without error if provided sufficient time and materials. However,there is a 1 in 6 chance when working with completely unfamiliar machinery thatthe device in question will “reject” the Texorcist, and they will be completelyincapable of engaging meaningfully with the machine. This chance rises to 2 in3 if the device was used directly against the Texorcist in some manner.A Texorcist may receive sensory information from machinesthey have communed with, so long as they’re powered or don’t need a powersource. This bond, however, goes both ways; if a device a Texorcist is bound tois destroyed, they take half their current hp in psychic damage.

Summon/bind gremlinpsychoplasm—a Texorcist may forgo their actions during a combat round to “conjure”a psychoplasmic mass, “channeling the rude spirit” of any destroyed, jammed, orcomplex machine into it to produce a small, approximately humanoid psi-formloyal to its conjuror (stats as goblin). Gremlin psychoplasms have limitedself-awareness, strong violent tendencies, rudimentary tool-use skills, andwill last for as many exploration turns as the conjuror has HD. The conjurormay attempt to extend the effect by losing 1 hp/excess turn; these hp do notheal until the conjuror undergoes a long rest.

We’ve sent a lot of soldiers into Tetron stomping grounds,for a lot of different reasons. Reconnaissance, retrieval, disposal of politicallyinconvenient field agents, to name a few. We’ve sent legends and we’ve sentscum. Only once has an entire field team come back without casualties. In fact,they came back with more soldiers than they went in with.

Those were the Texorcists. They didn’t call themselves thatat the time—hell, we don’t really call them that, not on paper. Just some dumbjoke that stuck too long.

They volunteered, and when they came back they didn’t regretit.

But they couldn’t stick around on our side either. Fromtheir perspective they were gone too long, and their wandering changed themirrevocably.

We don’t talk a lot about religion upwell. Not in public. It’snot conducive to smooth operation. It’s there, but we keep it behind closeddoors. Downwell it’s not too different. You get chaplains in the fieldsometimes, and some folks pick up a little of the local superstition, and ofcourse there’s no shortage of prayer to be heard between and in the midst of anexchange of fire, but we don’t have evangelicals.

Okay, maybe secularevangelicals.

But the Texorcists came out the other side of the quarantinezone diehard believers. In precisely what, it’s hard to explain. Animism’s apart of it, or as they put it, an extension of Object-Oriented Ontology. There’ssomething Hobbesian in there too. Whatever they saw in there, it convinced thempretty firmly that the state of nature was war of all against all. And when Isay all I mean all. When a Texorcistconsecrates each individual bullet, what they’re doing isn’t strictly speakingblessing them. It’s a loyalty check. Roll call. Reminding the spirit of everygrain of gunpowder and high-explosive warhead where they sit on the great chainof being.

They absolutely hate it when you call them mystics. All ofthis is a science to them. They’ve spent relative generations getting it downthrough trial and error and desperate experimentation, and they’re stillfiguring out the full implementations.

There are rumors of bigger, weirder psience projects goingon in their little enclaves. Larger scale plasmic inductions. Post-ContactArtifact fuckery. They’re making demons downthere, calling them up and putting them down, figuring out what they can shackleand what they can strip for parts. Maybe it’s all just stuff they’re drawingout of their own heads, maybe it’s extradimensional fuckery, maybe they reallyare dredging devils out of Machine Hell, whatever it is, it’s real enough.

Judging by the scale of the raids that come downon their heads, they scare the shit outof the Occulters, and that’s reason enough to scare the shit out of me.

[volatilepersonality]

REPOST, DO NOT REBLOG AND DO NOT DELETE THE FOLLOWING INFORMATION. 

The following quotes and phrases are taken from the stories in Thomas Ligotti’s anthology Songs of a Dead Dreamer. Some of these quotes were slightly tweaked for the sake of this meme. If you enjoy the imagery or writing in this meme, please support the author by purchasing his work. Content warnings for horror in general and brief mentions of blood, nihilism, unreality, mannequins, dolls, puppets, and some body horror.

Bold what applies to your muse.

Muse: (If you are a multimuse blog, specify what muse you are filling this out for.) Tagged by: stolen from @suisosei Tagging: @tuneback @duplikiss @crepcscolo @resolvebled @unzipswig @fatebond @stxrspin @myentropy

The Frolic

Absolute madness paired with a sharp cunning / an expression of sky-blue peacefulness / the indistinct happiness of the future / a piece of moon above the opulent leafage of spring trees / a broken-down kingdom of miracles and horrors / a Neverland where dizzy chaos is the norm / a cosmos of crooked houses and littered alleys / a slum among the stars / a jolly river of refuse / jagged heaps in shadows / a phantasmagoric mingling of heaven and hell / a moonlit corridor where mirrors scream and laugh / dreamy back-drops / ice cubes in an empty glass / shifting expressions on a lean face / vague suggestions and subtle jokes / an Aphrodite sculpture / the wind, cold and dead / a crumbled piece of paper / black-foaming gutters / the dank windowless gloom of some intergalactic cellar / starless cities of insanity / a bright freezing scream of laughter / a passing anecdote of some obscure hell

Les Fleurs

sorrowful flowers / lilting blossoms for a loved one’s memorial / a florist shop / flowers which open only at night / a hothouse warm smile / night-blooming cereuses / a sleek ocelot / well-preserved old places / plants resembling birds / white picket fences / flower-printed curtains / liqueur tasting of flowers from open fields / cool, clean offices / invisible wings whipping the warm air in darkness / the sounds of black orchids growing / the flower-bedded earth / a ripple of empathetic insight / a gorgeous kingdom of glittering colors / velvety jungle-shapes / contorted rainbows and twisted auroras / hyper-radiant hues / a marvelous arcana / tongue-like floral appendages / tongues flowering

Alice’s Last Adventure

Volatile years when anything might go wrong / the embodiment of topsy-turvydom / pools of rainwater / tarnished mirrors / moonlit windows / a thousand misshapen marvels / a universe handed over to new gods / stoic tolerance of a second-rate reality / two complete strangers gawking at each other / a shiny, pearl-grey casket / black orchids / a strange combination of relief and confusion / a delayed echo with oblique origins / a chain of occurrences with links as weak as smoke rings / a sunny autumn morning / a sense of duty, vanity, and other less comprehensible motives / the seas of the moon / costumed kids / the cries of bedlamites / the clamor of rambunctious kids / a half-cocked oration / jack-o’-lanterns glowing orange and yellow / masked children / a plastic cup of cider / shadows wavering against two-story facades / a lamp with a shade of Tiffany glass / a disciple of the bizarre / an autumn moon hanging in the blackness / demonic giggling / the moon / a clock / shadows in the window

Dream of a Manikin

A mostly tacit but somehow complete biography / a marvelous trick of the mind / jeweled lamps along the walls / lights shining on an intricately patterned carpet and various pieces of old furniture / star-clustered blackness / a starry abyss / an iciness drifting in from a starscape / a horrible truth / a legend written somewhere at the bottom of a dream / echoing voices bouncing here and there around the room / a motto printed on fortune cookie-like strips of paper and hidden in bureau drawers / a broken record repeating itself on an ancient Victrola / an alighting flock of birds / a field of dynamic tension / a dry sibilant voice / people dressed as dolls / shaking with tremors of the uncanny / a manikin dresser / astral ambience / occult studies and depth analysis / delving into speculative models of reality / cosmic static / harassments of the self / the boundaries of the self / a Bigger Self terrorizing its little splinter selves / cosmic ennui / a serendipitous discovery / this dream of flesh / guilty until proven otherwise / valerian and camphor baths / cryptic impudence / softly glowing display windows / the divine bonds of unreality / a medium-intensity shower / display-window dummies / rain-spotted glasses / a car with rain-blinded windows / a moment of self-terror / the mythical conspiracy of a treacherous universe / a galaxy of constellations/ a vaporous glowing / a whitened hallway / dolls made up to look like people / eyes shining in the white darkness / a powerful psychic metaphor

The Chymist

Daydreaming in the key of Rosicrucianism / bubblegum and beer / a chalice in a church / a serum vial in a laboratory / the tartness of one’s smile / a very keen appreciation of diversity / decrepitude / the withering heart of the deceased / bastardized nostalgia / the putrescence of things past / arching mirrors / chrome chandeliers / second-hand fantasies and out-of-date distractions / one strange thing next to another / a genius of vulgarity / a lawless paradise /  violence without violation / a smoke-gray sky / city-soiled clumps of snow / fluxing clouds that swirl above the chimneys and trees / alchemical transmutations / the glamour and sanity of former days / a new mask of rats and rot / a hopeless stroll along the path to hypothetically higher worlds / a body whose true outline remains unknown /  the whims of chemistry / the caprices of circumstance / the enigma of personal taste / a leather vessel with a void inside / the skeleton of a dream / lights outlining the different venues and avenues below / a bottle of powdered light / pulverized diamonds / the flesh and blood kaleidoscope of one’s imagination / a prodigious insurrection of entity / a tempest of transfiguration

Drink to Me Only with Labyrinthine Eyes

The full powers of a master hypnotist / a mesmeric wilderness / marked by fate’s stigmata / crystal twinkling under a chandelier’s kaleidoscopic blaze / power and prestige socializing / a pair of metronomes / a glossy black cabinet / two bluish gems in an alabaster setting / a tiny sequined outfit / mesmeric stunts / intact and unbloodied / routines in defiance of death and pain / a jaw-dropping finale / a blare of heavenly horns / a labyrinth of light / a gossamer veil / snow-white wings / the angelic luminary beneath the human beast / the eyes of the audience / mock-death and bogus-pain / sinking deep into a downy darkness / pillows stuffed with soft shadows / a sun at the center of a drab galaxy / vacant and full of grace / a business card with a cloud-gray pearl finish/ riotous rococo / a chair of blinding brocade / flowery fabric / a shelf of delicate figurines / tall smoky mirrors / a bottomless pool / a sky wiped clean of clouds / dispassionate elegance / postures and poses like frozen roses / pajama-clad legs dangling /a shiny chrome-plated pen / a very soft but not condescending tone / a mazy wallflower / cartwheels of agony / somersaults through fires of doom / nosedives of vulnerable flesh into the meat grinder of life / serene constellations / sweet nullities / a spell-binding, snake-eyed charmer / high society vulgarians / eyes recessed in their sockets, sunken into a rotting profundity / labyrinthine depths / dancing clothes all clotted with putrescent goo

Eye of the Lynx

Missing girls in Gothic garb / amber going on red / a reddish haze / a crazy purpurean tapestry / a fair-haired girl / denim slacks and a leather jacket / bloody moonlight / a long sip from a can of iced tea /persecutions and imperilments as glamorous as those of any Gothic heroine / violet eyes / the machinations of an evil-hearted malefactor /haunting second-hand shops / a strip of dark velvet seized by a pearl brooch / a frail chain from which dangles a heart-shaped locket / a whirlpooling lock of golden hair / gloves, long and powdery pale / the shoulders of heavy capes lined in satin that shines like a black sun / enveloping hoods / capes with deep pockets and generous inner pouches for secreting precious souvenirs / capes with silk strings that tie about the neck / capes with weighted hems that nonetheless flutter weightlessly in midnight gusts / doll-size in a dark doll’s costume / quivering bones and feverish blood / fear’s funereal plume / carriage wheels rioting in a lavender mist or a pearly fog / nacreous fires twitching beyond the margins of country roads / cliffs and stars / a blur of crimson shadows / vast regions of sublime desolation / mountains hulking in hazy twilight / a rather large animal collar at the end of a chain leash / a light the color of fresh meat / a page in a depraved story book / a single candle glowing through red glass / little zippers and big zippers / a moth-eaten cloak / enthralling cruelties / spangled eyebrows / a brow of glittering silver / glistening with tiny flecks of starlight /  the velvet embrace of one’s favorite cape / the tall candles one lights on stormy nights / chains of raindrops whipping against one’s windows / places where raging storms and brutal subjugations never end / the hardships of traveling to strange faraway places / frail little dolls / wild-wind nights and sadistic villains / corridors of scarlet darkness / a captive of one’s heart and its infinite chambers

Notes on the Writing of Horror: A Story

Something magical / something timeless / something profound / a sooty basement / the putrid members of a man who is decomposing / a plain brown package marked Hope, Love, or Fortune Cookies and postmarked: the Edge of the Unknown / a helter-skelter universe where things are ever threatening to go abnormal and unreal / a normal, real love / impermanence and decay / evils sent out under various covers / sublime and terrifying conflict / fearsome, fantastical, and inhuman / moon-trimmed shadows / lunar landscapes of craggy peaks / skeletal wastelands of jagged ice / a brooding Gothic hero / an ethereal Gothic heroine / a castle-like skyscraper / an extra dose of obsessiveness / the Gothic tale / a militant romantic / waves of bombast / winds of ecstatic hysteria / a partially shattered window, its surface streaked with a blue film of dust / a sublime sense of desolation / the diluted glow of twilight / night’s enveloping cloak / grimy azure dimness / bluish semi-luminescence / tears of confusion / turquoise haze / blue shadows of silence / liquefying legs / an old storyteller / the voice of a tiny insect crying for help from inside a sealed coffin / a piercing, crystal shriek that lacerates the midnight blackness / a haunter of spectral marketplaces / Gothic glory / a horror writer / an ardent consumer of the abnormal and the unreal / a visitant of discount houses of unreality / subject only to the rule of demonic forces / puppet-shadows / a hell so excruciating it is bliss itself / bony wings rising out of one’s back / jaws that are a cavern of dripping silver / rivers of putrescent gold running through one’s veins

The Christmas Eves of Aunt Elsie

Diamond-paned windows / a thick December fog / a serene congregation of colors / holly, both fresh and artificial / a pale purple ribbon / a ritual forever reenacted without hope of escape / a large chair beside a fogged window / crackling logs / a foggy winter’s night / bright Christmas lights shining through the fog / always dead with darkness / always alive with lights

The Lost Art of Twilight

A streak of iodine red / a spattering of flat black / the early autumn sun / silver hair / a gray suit / a long envelope, neatly cesareaned / the charnel house creeps / a silver shield / crepuscular radiance / an offspring of the dead / the progeny of phantoms / the big green eye of an EEG monitor / De Plancy’s Dictionnaire infernal / a rainbow of insects / the science of superstition / the Provencal countryside / a pantheon of gargoyles amid the splendor of a medieval church / a holy soldier of the living / a monster of the dead / the astral banquet of Art / the rotting flesh of rainbows / the sonar screech of a bat / vampiric origins / the oncoming onyx of a storm / shadows and sunshine / glare and gloom / bright clouds and black / iron-red leaves / tentative drops of rain / blue bears and yellow rabbits / neither a blood-warm human nor a blood-drawing devil / oceans of blood / the ravenous life of the undead / an authoritative impatience / eternal life in an eternal death

The Troubles of Dr. Thoss

Pale gray pajamas / thick sheets of paper / a bottle of black ink / a shapely black pen with a silvery nib / strands of blond hair, almost white / a sudden salty breeze / silhouettes and shadows / unreflecting windows / metal hinges squeaking somewhere in the wind / a sleepless night /constellations beyond the window panes / star-filled hours / the pure whiteness of the page / a flung shoe leaning toe-up against a bedpost / nothingness unstained by inner conception / white snow in a white sky /dark lines and vacant spaces / vast expanses of frozen whiteness / a church in a foreign town / assorted devils and demons / ice-mad mountains / a spirit of malicious abandon / nightmarish anatomies / a sickle-shaped scar of moon / sea-licked shores / dark letters / feeding one’s troubles to the sea / brown-leafed trees / a forest of memorials / clumps of crosses / groves of gravestones / dark, cowl-shaped windows / unblemished by shadows / the sound of crashing waves / bending dawns into twilights / static from a broken radio / breaking waves / seaside air/ a gleaming crescent moon / a bone-white cicatrix / chronic insomnia / a blade of moon / white night, white noise

Masquerade of a Dead Sword: A Tragedie

The confusions of carnival night / gyrations of squealing abandon / lines between pain and pleasure / a rainbow of rags / a startling length of blade / pale pages elegantly dappled by somber verses / a pair of strangely darkened spectacles / the toneless voice of one who is dead to all appeasement or mercy / mounds of snow that had been sown with ashes / eyes as dark and swirled with shadows as the raving night itself / a constellation of designs / mad games of flesh and steel / a forbidden madness / dense forests of tall pikes planted in the earth / shadows rolling in empty sockets / lacerated mouths / the darkness of dreams / to see the world drown in oceans of agony / visions of butchering the angels / a god of deceit or illusion / chaos at feast / black with scars of madness / darkly clouded glass / the brightest and highest of stars / shimmering halls / unnaturally colored wine / red-smeared forms / many-taloned claws / the velvet fingers of a tightly gloved hand / a pair of leviathan leeches / a lord of the sword made mad / the dark powers which we cannot understand but only hate / rhapsodic voices in the streets / a privileged doom / the face of the soul of the world / the cool marble of the floor / an onyx-black knight / a face flushed with crimson glory

Dr. Voke and Mr. Veech

A scribble of lightning engraved upon a black sky / a long, brightly colored coat / noisy jets of blue-green light flickering spasmodically / life-size dolls hanging suspended by wires / wetted strands of a spider web / shiny satin legs / a beautifully pale hand / pulverized stars / dismembered limbs of dolls and puppets / the repose of ruin / an oily red glare / a well-dressed dummy / a white high-collar shirt with silver cufflinks / a billowing cravat which displays a pattern of moons and stars / wood waking up / a sleep that should have never been broken / something too painful for tears / the false fire of the moon / two faces sharing a single head / faint, hollow screams from high above / a dummy’s silence / leftover tears of berserk laughter / bluish-green irradiance

Professor Nobody’s Little Lectures on Supernatural Horror

Mist on a lake / fog in thick woods / a golden light shining on wet stones / a little trickle of suspicion in the bloodstream / the solar brilliance of a summer day / supernatural horror / a corner alive with cool drafts and fragrant with centuries of must / a rancid world rife with things smelling of the crypt / a sower of vice / mad winds / wan moonlight / pasty specters / the vividness of pain / the lasting effects of fear / natural-born puppets whose lips are stained with their own blood / dead bodies that walk in the night / living bodies suddenly possessed by new owners and deadly aspirations / the sepulchral pomp of wasting tissue / compassion for human hurt / a humble sense of one’s impermanence / an absolute valuation of justice / a demented innocence in the face of gruesome facts / the horrific reprisals of affirmation / the Cosmic Macabre / the shudders of a thousand graveyards

Dr. Locrian’s Asylum

Gray walls pocked like sponges / nights of futile tears and screaming / an expression of almost paternal forgiveness / the supreme delirium of the planets / bright puppets dancing in the blackness / a golden speck of magic / the silent, staring universe / something as pathetic as a puppet and as exalted as the stars / something at once dead and never dying / autumn constellations in the black sky above / harshly brilliant eyes / the remote places where truth had been shut up and abandoned

The Sect of the Idiot

Extraordinary joy / extraordinary pain / the great hollow of dreams / an infinitely secluded place / a world that both menaces and surpasses this one / a holy madness / infinite stillness on foggy mornings / miracles of silence on indolent afternoons / the strangely flickering tableau of neverending nights / deceptive depths of shadow / heaps of clouds like dust balls / a fluorescent map of the cosmos / medieval autumns and mute winters / kaleidoscopic windows / a kind of cataclysm of empty space / an earthquake of the invisible / strikingly clear eyes / a dusty trunk of dreams / a maze of streets / an abyss of stars / a great reaching blackness / a stale gray dimness / an alien order of being / an icy blackness / starry blackness / a great round moon / deep aquatic blue / the voids of astronomy / a state of both paralyzed terror and spellbound curiosity / whispering figures / stagnant moonlight / withered, wilted claws / drooping tentacles / the spinning legs of spiders / the greedy rubbing of a fly’s spindly feelers / the darting tongues of snakes / the triumph of the grotesque / whispering effigies of chaos / putrid arcana / an ecstatic horror / horrific ecstasy / the demonic elements of which all creation is composed / corruption in disguise / a cache of unwonted offerings stored out of sight / currents of fear / dark tremors / splendid scenes broken with malign shadows / the lurid and the lovely forever lost in each other’s embrace / the arch of an old street / tunnel-like hallways / sickly light shining through unwashed, curtainless windows / atmospherics of infinite melancholy and unease / a decayed paradise / the everlasting residue of some cosmic misfortune / a solemn, mechanical intentness / a smooth and solid cube of black glass / a malignant puppet of madness / dazed in darkness / embarrassed throat-clearings / reproving looks / words which could only have meaning in a nightmare / a thing of strange degeneracy / a quintessence of hellish delirium / freakish, echoing laughter / the whispering of strangers / twitching tentacles / a horror which cannot be helped  

The Greater Festival of Masks

The old and new / the real and imaginary / truth and deception / shops of costumes and masks / an incautious curiosity / shredded rags that are easily disturbed by the wind / a poster stuck to a crumbling wall / strange pathways of caprice / the outsized moon / silvery windows / doors which are elaborately decorated yet will not budge in their frames / massive shutters covering blank walls behind them / faces of dreams /sardonically grinning / innocence and excuses / a reddish glow of fire / a wad of bubbling blackness / smooth and faceless faces / the speaker in the shadows / the soft creaking of new faces breaking through old flesh

The Music of the Moon

Breaking the quiet of a moonlit room / enchantments that nearly make amends for one’s stolen slumber / some unusual shape leaping across steep roofs / a bewildering agility / many nights of sleepless hell / a knife / rope / a poison vial / an exploit of uncommon decisiveness / blank nights of insomnia / a handbill / ashes mixed with grease / a door with a faint yellow aura leaking out at its edges / small, shadowlike things moving in corners and along the floor molding / a quartet of musicians / a voice which sounds both exhausted and malicious / pale, ragged clouds of hair / sonic abnormality / an empty shaft of blackness / spherical lamps caked with dust / the silence of a dark, lifeless world / black silhouettes of human heads visible only in the moonlight / slow music in the soft darkness / a single note wavering in a universe of darkness / a incalculable proliferation of slightly dissonant harmony / the light of a quiet gray dawn / completely helpless, and yet content to be so / thick layers of webs / gazing at nothing with bleeding sockets / the moon all fat and pale, glaring down from its gauzy webs of clouds

The Journal of J.P. Drapeau

Unstained by any habits of the human / the ideal of everything alien to living / some molding backwater of the earth / the city of Bruges itself / a corpse of the Middle Ages / bony bridges / the black veins of old canals / a lonely evolution in shadowed streets and beside sluggish canals /the music of graveyards / a resonant chorus that fills the air and sometimes drowns out the voices of those who still live / layers of cobwebs floating about the near ceiling / a burst of resistance / the pealing of church bells / the language of whimsy / the force of stars tugging away at various points / the dark waters of a canal / shiny black hair parted straight down the middle / a low table covered by a red velvet cloth / a world that applauds trumped-up illusions while denying or demeaning those that create the very lives they are living / a spectral thing full of strange suggestion / an untenanted room filled with the echoes of nothingness / the eyes of certain crudely fashioned dolls / a greenish glow from a mirror /placid meandering canals / enwrapped in mist / close crumbling houses / odd arching bridges / innumerable church towers / narrow twisting streets / queer little courtyards / everything gone forever / an empty mist / an eternal twilight

Vastarien

Candles in a cloistered cell / shapes beneath the shadows / tall buildings whose rooftops nod groundward / wide buildings whose facades follow the curve of a street / buildings whose windows and doorways tilt like badly hung paintings / stairways that wander off-course into useless places / caged elevators that urge unwanted stops on their passengers / a sequestered civilization of echoes flourishing among groaning walls / thin ladders ascending into a maze of shafts and conduits / the dark valves and arteries of a petrified and monstrous organism / a desolate serenity / silvery cinders / the mouths of great chimneys / shadow-puppets / cluttered gardens and crooked gates / the purling waters of black canals / faded masks concealing profound schemes / a place of supernatural clarity and stillness / the crystalline glare of a lantern / moonlight through a curtained window / darkened windows / souls who believe that the only value of this world lies in its power—at certain times— to suggest another / a scattering of stars and lights / a coveted paradise / the most gauzy phantom of another place / a shadowy mimic / the anatomy of a great dream / everlasting echoes / a rectangle of smudged glass within another rectangle of scuffed wood / crowded shelves / remnants of a luxuriant autumn / an obscene reality / to dwell among the ruins of reality / shadowed volumes / scripture that would begin with the portents of apocalypse and end with the wreck of all creation / to become the wind in the dead of winter / to howl the undoing of all that would abide in warmth and light / an enticing verse in a volume of esoterica / the dream of attaining some untainted good / a disastrous enlightenment / some hypothetical state of pure glory / the revelation that nothing ever known has ended in glory / some strictly demonic enterprise / something about one’s presence that makes one think of a crow / a scavenging creature in wait / a large, two-headed shadow / the sad frustration of the uninvited, the abandoned / the brilliant rectangle of a doorway / hopes and curiosities of an indeterminable kind / free-standing bookcases / pages and bindings of uncommon texture /abstract diagrams suggesting no orthodox ritual or occult system / a chronicle of strange dreams / an invocation of a world in waiting of genesis / days distilled into dreams and nights into nightmares / a deliverance by damnation / nightmare made normal / a horror uncompromised by any feeling of lost joy or a thwarted searching for the good / a nightmare transformed in spirit by the utter absence of refuge / a utopia of exhaustion, confusion, and debris / a dialogue of mystification, and possibly one of lies / the edge of a dreamless void / a dark and devouring bird / shadows and moonlight / an unbending web of heavy wire / unjust confinement / a slender syringe crowned with a silvery needle

[adventuresnek]

Aetherial Flux

Ratta ta ta! The wooden handle of a flat head smacks rhythmically to the beat of the drums. A lively Xaela reclines in her easy chair. To say she was hard at work wouldn’t be a lie, for even the cogs of the mind need a bit of lubrication every now and then. What batter to grease up the gears than music made for dreamers: movers, shakers, and schematic makers! Today was going to be a casual Friday for the prim and punctual Au Ra. Her favorite pair of spriggan bottoms rested comfortably along her hips accompanied by the matching stockings which were neatly tugged to her thighs. Her trusty leather, steel toe boots dug into the edge of her desk, pushing back to raise her chair in a care free manner! So wreckless! Careful, this is the danger zone! A tank top was hidden somewhere beneath her knockoff Uwagi #55, and resting atop of her head were her lucky goggles, gifted to her by the Elezen who furthered her interest into technology and engineering. Her stockings were scuffed by soot, her arms were covered in bandages, and smudges of grease rested on her cheeks! She was dirty, she was unkept, she was free! This was her sanctuary! Sure, her apartment was her home, but it was also a place to meet friends, entertain clients with rousing stories over tea, it was the social sanctuary, but the workshop? This was the place where she felt she could relax from her poised demeanor and really let loose her Xaela heart and toss away the mask she wore in public! So here she sat, drumming to the rocking beat playing on her Orchestrion half way across the room, muffled by the bubbling of her alchemical furnace. All these sounds, the smell of stressed metals and oil, the off key hums she produced; this was her way of meditating in the place she called her temple! This is where she dreamed her biggest fantasies..

The ambitions of a single soul can be seemingly limitless, and with the aid of magic, dreams become reality. The Beast Tribes own will and the power that flows throughout the realm is enough, when channeled properly; to manifest a false god born to covet the power of man and bring low the enemies of these savage fiends. Aether in its physical form can power devastating machines and fuel a tyrannical empire in its quest for total domination. If Aether is at the core of all existence, then it is the bond shared by all living and inanimate objects as far as the eyes can see and beyond! It was this understanding of the universe she resides in that had pushed Shasha onto her next great project.

Casualties were no more a regular biproduct of war than the weapons used to fight them, and such costs were not just lives. Hands lost in the heat of battle, explosions consuming the legs of the unexpecting soldier who marched upon a well buried mine, and of course disease corrupting the flesh of organs and limb alike as the battlefields are bathed in the falling sorrow of the Furies above. While a life cannot be so easily restored without paying a heavy toll, an arm or leg can easily be replaced with a sturdy metal rod crafted in such a shape as to cushion the blow of each step a body might take. Balance is taken into consideration, as does the durability of the material used. Such exact measurements were needed to fit a soldier in need with just the right prosthetic to suit their body type. Yes, there were Magitek prosthetics on the market, or engineers specializing in such mechanics, but Shasha felt it necessary to start small. She sought to learn this craft on her own as a test of her skill of knowledge of Magitek.

She had made several prosthetics in her time, crude ones to be exact. They were simplistic in design, not requiring too many gears or springs, but still served their funcrion through the intelligent design. Single hinges, curved metal foot, and springy clasps to replace the need of hooks. She limited herself to the number of pieces she could use, so as to better understand how structural integrity. From there, she would seek out inspiration from the creatures of Thanalan to improve upon the designs. The strange anatomy of some creatures boggled her. How could such creatures stand and move with the awkward positioning of their joints? Nature created such weird systems within living beings compared to the rigid parts of machines. Flesh and bones were far more fragile than metal, but a beast of burden could still pull tons of supplies across a desert with the need for little rest! This was something she wishes to translate into a man made form.

Shasha has scoured her tomes to find similarities between beast and machine. Hydraulics were used to simulate the functions of muscles, yet such devices were often exposed, and puncturing the tanks would render them useless. She needed something internal and compact. Power was also a concern, but she had assumed that the user would simply use a portion of their Aether to energize the limb. It was then when the Xaela nearly fell from her seat as she kicked her feet out against the desk. Grabbing the edge of her work space, she set her chair back onto all four legs, “Those blessed with a strong connection to the flow of Aether can channel the energy of our universe into various forms, be it destructive, empowering, or restorative, but could it be focused into a point? Could it heat a bladder of fluid to expand? Better yet, could the charge of an depleted crystal cause an intended reaction? A constriction of joints or the rotation of a pivot? Of course, special circles and glyphs would be needed to perform more complex functions..” The ideas poured through her mind, and with quill in hand, she started to sketch a concept.

“So long as the crystal remains charged, it will continue to perform its function, say powering a hand to grip, or a leg to stretch. Flowing Aether to predetermined locations would take time to master with the speed needed to react, and there will be delays, but whose to say this ‘phantom limb’ syndrome is nothing more than a real incorporeal limb? Surely I will need test subjects for this, and I will have to seek out other prosthetic engineers to learn their methods. I think I’ll call it Aetherial Flux! That has a real catch to it, and who knows, I could use it as a selling point if it has a boring technical name already. The L.E.G. MK. II with Improved Aetherial Flux Compacity!” She knew full well she wasn’t the first to think of this, for Magitek had existed well before the great cities rose to power, but to rediscover this concept on her own would cement it to her memory for years to come. It would be the basis from which she can expand her craft! Of course, she would need to find and salvage whatever she could from the ruins of Garlean strong holds to find the necessary parts to begin crafting prototypes. Adventurers and fellow tinkerers alike would of picked these sites clean, but she knew Ishgard was just a flight away, and she was sure to find plenty of mechanist who were willing to sell her what she was looking for. Ala Mhigo was practically fresh in terms of conflict, and the skeletons of Garlean monstrosities could be hidden in various nooks others dare not tread. Doma was a graveyard of Garlemald’s failed occupation, so there no doubt in her mind that the Confederacy’s market could be hoarding spoils of war along the coasts of the Ruby Sea. To her, it seemed like there was more reason to make that trip to the Far East, but then again, Ala Mhigo was a hop skip, and airship flight away...

Whatever she decided, she wondered where this venture would take her. Failure was not an option. She was too stubborn to let this knowledge slip from her fingers when it meant she could one day craft something she herself might use if an accident were to befall her or someone close to her. There was also the gil that could be made in the process. Aetherial Flux: A brand you can trust! A little simplistic, but the branding would have to come after she made her current dream reality, for that was her goal in life, turning lies and dreams into fact.

[antonverloc]

REPOST, DO NOT REBLOG AND DO NOT DELETE THE FOLLOWING INFORMATION.

The following quotes and phrases are taken from the stories in Thomas Ligotti’s anthology Songs of a Dead Dreamer. Some of these quotes were slightly tweaked for the sake of this meme. If you enjoy the imagery or writing in this meme, please support the author by purchasing his work. Content warnings for horror in general and brief mentions of blood, nihilism, unreality, mannequins, dolls, puppets, and some body horror.

Bold what applies to your muse.

TAGGED BY: stolen TAGGING: u

The Frolic

Absolute madness paired with a sharp cunning / an expression of sky-blue peacefulness / the indistinct happiness of the future / a piece of moon above the opulent leafage of spring trees / a broken-down kingdom of miracles and horrors / a Neverland where dizzy chaos is the norm / a cosmos of crooked houses and littered alleys / a slum among the stars / a jolly river of refuse / jagged heaps in shadows / a phantasmagoric mingling of heaven and hell / a moonlit corridor where mirrors scream and laugh / dreamy back-drops / ice cubes in an empty glass / shifting expressions on a lean face / vague suggestions and subtle jokes / an Aphrodite sculpture / the wind, cold and dead / a crumbled piece of paper / black-foaming gutters / the dank windowless gloom of some intergalactic cellar / starless cities of insanity / a bright freezing scream of laughter / a passing anecdote of some obscure hell

Les Fleurs

sorrowful flowers / lilting blossoms for a loved one’s memorial / a florist shop / flowers which open only at night / a hothouse warm smile / night-blooming cereuses / a sleek ocelot / well-preserved old places / plants resembling birds / white picket fences / flower-printed curtains / liqueur tasting of flowers from open fields / cool, clean offices / invisible wings whipping the warm air in darkness / the sounds of black orchids growing / the flower-bedded earth / a ripple of empathetic insight / a gorgeous kingdom of glittering colors / velvety jungle-shapes / contorted rainbows and twisted auroras / hyper-radiant hues / a marvelous arcana / tongue-like floral appendages / tongues flowering

Alice’s Last Adventure

Volatile years when anything might go wrong / the embodiment of topsy-turvydom / pools of rainwater / tarnished mirrors / moonlit windows / a thousand misshapen marvels / a universe handed over to new gods / stoic tolerance of a second-rate reality / two complete strangers gawking at each other / a shiny, pearl-grey casket / black orchids / a strange combination of relief and confusion / a delayed echo with oblique origins / a chain of occurrences with links as weak as smoke rings / a sunny autumn morning / a sense of duty, vanity, and other less comprehensible motives / the seas of the moon / costumed kids / the cries of bedlamites / the clamor of rambunctious kids / a half-cocked oration / jack-o’-lanterns glowing orange and yellow / masked children / a plastic cup of cider / shadows wavering against two-story facades / a lamp with a shade of Tiffany glass / a disciple of the bizarre / an autumn moon hanging in the blackness / demonic giggling / the moon / a clock / shadows in the window

Dream of a Manikin

A mostly tacit but somehow complete biography / a marvelous trick of the mind / jeweled lamps along the walls / lights shining on an intricately patterned carpet and various pieces of old furniture / star-clustered blackness / a starry abyss / an iciness drifting in from a starscape / a horrible truth / a legend written somewhere at the bottom of a dream / echoing voices bouncing here and there around the room / a motto printed on fortune cookie-like strips of paper and hidden in bureau drawers / a broken record repeating itself on an ancient Victrola / an alighting flock of birds / a field of dynamic tension / a dry sibilant voice / people dressed as dolls / shaking with tremors of the uncanny / a manikin dresser / astral ambience / occult studies and depth analysis / delving into speculative models of reality / cosmic static / harassments of the self / the boundaries of the self / a Bigger Self terrorizing its little splinter selves / cosmic ennui / a serendipitous discovery / this dream of flesh / guilty until proven otherwise / valerian and camphor baths / cryptic impudence / softly glowing display windows / the divine bonds of unreality / a medium-intensity shower / display-window dummies / rain-spotted glasses / a car with rain-blinded windows / a moment of self-terror / the mythical conspiracy of a treacherous universe / a galaxy of constellations / a vaporous glowing / a whitened hallway / dolls made up to look like people / eyes shining in the white darkness / a powerful psychic metaphor

The Chymist

Daydreaming in the key of Rosicrucianism / bubblegum and beer / a chalice in a church / a serum vial in a laboratory / the tartness of one’s smile / a very keen appreciation of diversity / decrepitude / the withering heart of the deceased / bastardized nostalgia / the putrescence of things past / arching mirrors / chrome chandeliers / second-hand fantasies and out-of-date distractions / one strange thing next to another / a genius of vulgarity / a lawless paradise / violence without violation / a smoke-gray sky / city-soiled clumps of snow / fluxing clouds that swirl above the chimneys and trees / alchemical transmutations / the glamour and sanity of former days / a new mask of rats and rot / a hopeless stroll along the path to hypothetically higher worlds / a body whose true outline remains unknown /  the whims of chemistry / the caprices of circumstance / the enigma of personal taste / a leather vessel with a void inside / the skeleton of a dream / lights outlining the different venues and avenues below / a bottle of powdered light / pulverized diamonds / the flesh and blood kaleidoscope of one’s imagination / a prodigious insurrection of entity / a tempest of transfiguration

Drink to Me Only with Labyrinthine Eyes

The full powers of a master hypnotist / a mesmeric wilderness / marked by fate’s stigmata / crystal twinkling under a chandelier’s kaleidoscopic blaze / power and prestige socializing / a pair of metronomes / a glossy black cabinet / two bluish gems in an alabaster setting / a tiny sequined outfit / mesmeric stunts / intact and unbloodied / routines in defiance of death and pain / a jaw-dropping finale / a blare of heavenly horns / a labyrinth of light / a gossamer veil / snow-white wings / the angelic luminary beneath the human beast / the eyes of the audience / mock-death and bogus-pain / sinking deep into a downy darkness / pillows stuffed with soft shadows / a sun at the center of a drab galaxy / vacant and full of grace / a business card with a cloud-gray pearl finish / riotous rococo / a chair of blinding brocade / flowery fabric / a shelf of delicate figurines / tall smoky mirrors / a bottomless pool /a sky wiped clean of clouds / dispassionate elegance / postures and poses like frozen roses / pajama-clad legs dangling / a shiny chrome-plated pen / a very soft but not condescending tone / a mazy wallflower / cartwheels of agony / somersaults through fires of doom / nosedives of vulnerable flesh into the meat grinder of life / serene constellations / sweet nullities / a spell-binding, snake-eyed charmer / high society vulgarians / eyes recessed in their sockets, sunken into a rotting profundity / labyrinthine depths / dancing clothes all clotted with putrescent goo

Eye of the Lynx

Missing girls in Gothic garb / amber going on red / a reddish haze / a crazy purpurean tapestry / a fair-haired girl / denim slacks and a leather jacket / bloody moonlight / a long sip from a can of iced tea / persecutions and imperilments as glamorous as those of any Gothic heroine / violet eyes / the machinations of an evil-hearted malefactor / haunting second-hand shops / a strip of dark velvet seized by a pearl brooch / a frail chain from which dangles a heart-shaped locket / a whirlpooling lock of golden hair / gloves, long and powdery pale / the shoulders of heavy capes lined in satin that shines like a black sun / enveloping hoods / capes with deep pockets and generous inner pouches for secreting precious souvenirs / capes with silk strings that tie about the neck / capes with weighted hems that nonetheless flutter weightlessly in midnight gusts / doll-size in a dark doll’s costume / quivering bones and feverish blood / fear’s funereal plume / carriage wheels rioting in a lavender mist or a pearly fog / nacreous fires twitching beyond the margins of country roads / cliffs and stars / a blur of crimson shadows / vast regions of sublime desolation / mountains hulking in hazy twilight / a rather large animal collar at the end of a chain leash / a light the color of fresh meat / a page in a depraved story book / a single candle glowing through red glass / little zippers and big zippers / a moth-eaten cloak / enthralling cruelties / spangled eyebrows / a brow of glittering silver / glistening with tiny flecks of starlight /  the velvet embrace of one’s favorite cape / the tall candles one lights on stormy nights / chains of raindrops whipping against one’s windows / places where raging storms and brutal subjugations never end / the hardships of traveling to strange faraway places / frail little dolls / wild-wind nights and sadistic villains / corridors of scarlet darkness / a captive of one’s heart and its infinite chambers

Notes on the Writing of Horror: A Story

Something magical / something timeless / something profound / a sooty basement / the putrid members of a man who is decomposing / a plain brown package marked Hope, Love, or Fortune Cookies and postmarked: the Edge of the Unknown / a helter-skelter universe where things are ever threatening to go abnormal and unreal / a normal, real love / impermanence and decay / evils sent out under various covers / sublime and terrifying conflict / fearsome, fantastical, and inhuman / moon-trimmed shadows / lunar landscapes of craggy peaks / skeletal wastelands of jagged ice / a brooding Gothic hero / an ethereal Gothic heroine / a castle-like skyscraper / an extra dose of obsessiveness / the Gothic tale / a militant romantic / waves of bombast / winds of ecstatic hysteria / a partially shattered window, its surface streaked with a blue film of dust / a sublime sense of desolation / the diluted glow of twilight / night’s enveloping cloak / grimy azure dimness / bluish semi-luminescence / tears of confusion / turquoise haze / blue shadows of silence / liquefying legs / an old storyteller / the voice of a tiny insect crying for help from inside a sealed coffin / a piercing, crystal shriek that lacerates the midnight blackness / a haunter of spectral marketplaces / Gothic glory / a horror writer / an ardent consumer of the abnormal and the unreal / a visitant of discount houses of unreality / subject only to the rule of demonic forces / puppet-shadows / a hell so excruciating it is bliss itself / bony wings rising out of one’s back / jaws that are a cavern of dripping silver / rivers of putrescent gold running through one’s veins

The Christmas Eves of Aunt Elsie

Diamond-paned windows / a thick December fog / a serene congregation of colors / holly, both fresh and artificial / a pale purple ribbon / a ritual forever reenacted without hope of escape / a large chair beside a fogged window / crackling logs / a foggy winter’s night / bright Christmas lights shining through the fog / always dead with darkness / always alive with lights

The Lost Art of Twilight

A streak of iodine red / a spattering of flat black / the early autumn sun / silver hair / a gray suit / a long envelope, neatly cesareaned / the charnel house creeps / a silver shield / crepuscular radiance / an offspring of the dead / the progeny of phantoms / the big green eye of an EEG monitor / De Plancy’s Dictionnaire infernal / a rainbow of insects / the science of superstition / the Provencal countryside / a pantheon of gargoyles amid the splendor of a medieval church / a holy soldier of the living / a monster of the dead / the astral banquet of Art / the rotting flesh of rainbows / the sonar screech of a bat / vampiric origins / the oncoming onyx of a storm / shadows and sunshine / glare and gloom / bright clouds and black / iron-red leaves / tentative drops of rain / blue bears and yellow rabbits / neither a blood-warm human nor a blood-drawing devil / oceans of blood / the ravenous life of the undead / an authoritative impatience / eternal life in an eternal death

The Troubles of Dr. Thoss

Pale gray pajamas / thick sheets of paper / a bottle of black ink / a shapely black pen with a silvery nib / strands of blond hair, almost white / a sudden salty breeze / silhouettes and shadows / unreflecting windows / metal hinges squeaking somewhere in the wind / a sleepless night / constellations beyond the window panes / star-filled hours / the pure whiteness of the page / a flung shoe leaning toe-up against a bedpost / nothingness unstained by inner conception / white snow in a white sky / dark lines and vacant spaces / vast expanses of frozen whiteness / a church in a foreign town / assorted devils and demons / ice-mad mountains / a spirit of malicious abandon / nightmarish anatomies / a sickle-shaped scar of moon / sea-licked shores / dark letters / feeding one’s troubles to the sea / brown-leafed trees / a forest of memorials / clumps of crosses / groves of gravestones / dark, cowl-shaped windows / unblemished by shadows / the sound of crashing waves /bending dawns into twilights / static from a broken radio / breaking waves / seaside air / a gleaming crescent moon / a bone-white cicatrix / chronic insomnia / a blade of moon / white night, white noise

Masquerade of a Dead Sword: A Tragedie

The confusions of carnival night / gyrations of squealing abandon / lines between pain and pleasure / a rainbow of rags / a startling length of blade / pale pages elegantly dappled by somber verses / a pair of strangely darkened spectacles / the toneless voice of one who is dead to all appeasement or mercy / mounds of snow that had been sown with ashes / eyes as dark and swirled with shadows as the raving night itself / a constellation of designs / mad games of flesh and steel / a forbidden madness / dense forests of tall pikes planted in the earth / shadows rolling in empty sockets / lacerated mouths / the darkness of dreams / to see the world drown in oceans of agony / visions of butchering the angels / a god of deceit or illusion / chaos at feast / black with scars of madness / darkly clouded glass / the brightest and highest of stars / shimmering halls / unnaturally colored wine / red-smeared forms / many-taloned claws / the velvet fingers of a tightly gloved hand / a pair of leviathan leeches / a lord of the sword made mad / the dark powers which we cannot understand but only hate / rhapsodic voices in the streets / a privileged doom / the face of the soul of the world / the cool marble of the floor / an onyx-black knight / a face flushed with crimson glory

Dr. Voke and Mr. Veech

A scribble of lightning engraved upon a black sky / a long, brightly colored coat / noisy jets of blue-green light flickering spasmodically / life-size dolls hanging suspended by wires / wetted strands of a spider web / shiny satin legs / a beautifully pale hand / pulverized stars / dismembered limbs of dolls and puppets / the repose of ruin / an oily red glare / a well-dressed dummy / a white high-collar shirt with silver cufflinks / a billowing cravat which displays a pattern of moons and stars / wood waking up / a sleep that should have never been broken / something too painful for tears / the false fire of the moon / two faces sharing a single head / faint, hollow screams from high above / a dummy’s silence / leftover tears of berserk laughter / bluish-green irradiance

Professor Nobody’s Little Lectures on Supernatural Horror

Mist on a lake / fog in thick woods / a golden light shining on wet stones / a little trickle of suspicion in the bloodstream / the solar brilliance of a summer day / supernatural horror / a corner alive with cool drafts and fragrant with centuries of must / a rancid world rife with things smelling of the crypt / a sower of vice / mad winds / wan moonlight / pasty specters / the vividness of pain / the lasting effects of fear / natural-born puppets whose lips are stained with their own blood / dead bodies that walk in the night / living bodies suddenly possessed by new owners and deadly aspirations / the sepulchral pomp of wasting tissue / compassion for human hurt / a humble sense of one’s impermanence / an absolute valuation of justice / a demented innocence in the face of gruesome facts / the horrific reprisals of affirmation / the Cosmic Macabre / the shudders of a thousand graveyards

Dr. Locrian’s Asylum

Gray walls pocked like sponges / nights of futile tears and screaming / an expression of almost paternal forgiveness / the supreme delirium of the planets / bright puppets dancing in the blackness / a golden speck of magic / the silent, staring universe / something as pathetic as a puppet and as exalted as the stars / something at once dead and never dying / autumn constellations in the black sky above / harshly brilliant eyes / the remote places where truth had been shut up and abandoned

The Sect of the Idiot

Extraordinary joy / extraordinary pain / the great hollow of dreams / an infinitely secluded place / a world that both menaces and surpasses this one / a holy madness / infinite stillness on foggy mornings / miracles of silence on indolent afternoons / the strangely flickering tableau of neverending nights / deceptive depths of shadow / heaps of clouds like dust balls / a fluorescent map of the cosmos / medieval autumns and mute winters /kaleidoscopic windows / a kind of cataclysm of empty space / an earthquake of the invisible / strikingly clear eyes / a dusty trunk of dreams / a maze of streets / an abyss of stars / a great reaching blackness / a stale gray dimness / an alien order of being / an icy blackness /starry blackness / a great round moon / deep aquatic blue / the voids of astronomy / a state of both paralyzed terror and spellbound curiosity / whispering figures / stagnant moonlight / withered, wilted claws / drooping tentacles / the spinning legs of spiders / the greedy rubbing of a fly’s spindly feelers / the darting tongues of snakes / the triumph of the grotesque / whispering effigies of chaos / putrid arcana / an ecstatic horror / horrific ecstasy / the demonic elements of which all creation is composed / corruption in disguise / a cache of unwonted offerings stored out of sight / currents of fear / dark tremors / splendid scenes broken with malign shadows / the lurid and the lovely forever lost in each other’s embrace / the arch of an old street / tunnel-like hallways / sickly light shining through unwashed, curtainless windows / atmospherics of infinite melancholy and unease / a decayed paradise / the everlasting residue of some cosmic misfortune / a solemn, mechanical intentness / a smooth and solid cube of black glass / a malignant puppet of madness / dazed in darkness / embarrassed throat-clearings / reproving looks / words which could only have meaning in a nightmare / a thing of strange degeneracy / a quintessence of hellish delirium / freakish, echoing laughter / the whispering of strangers / twitching tentacles / a horror which cannot be helped  

The Greater Festival of Masks

The old and new / the real and imaginary / truth and deception / shops of costumes and masks / an incautious curiosity / shredded rags that are easily disturbed by the wind / a poster stuck to a crumbling wall / strange pathways of caprice / the outsized moon / silvery windows / doors which are elaborately decorated yet will not budge in their frames / massive shutters covering blank walls behind them / faces of dreams / sardonically grinning / innocence and excuses / a reddish glow of fire / a wad of bubbling blackness / smooth and faceless faces / the speaker in the shadows / the soft creaking of new faces breaking through old flesh

The Music of the Moon

Breaking the quiet of a moonlit room / enchantments that nearly make amends for one’s stolen slumber / some unusual shape leaping across steep roofs / a bewildering agility / many nights of sleepless hell / a knife / rope / a poison vial / an exploit of uncommon decisiveness / blank nights of insomnia / a handbill / ashes mixed with grease / a door with a faint yellow aura leaking out at its edges / small, shadowlike things moving in corners and along the floor molding / a quartet of musicians / a voice which sounds both exhausted and malicious / pale, ragged clouds of hair / sonic abnormality / an empty shaft of blackness / spherical lamps caked with dust / the silence of a dark, lifeless world / black silhouettes of human heads visible only in the moonlight / slow music in the soft darkness / a single note wavering in a universe of darkness / a incalculable proliferation of slightly dissonant harmony / the light of a quiet gray dawn / completely helpless, and yet content to be so / thick layers of webs / gazing at nothing with bleeding sockets / the moon all fat and pale, glaring down from its gauzy webs of clouds

The Journal of J.P. Drapeau

Unstained by any habits of the human / the ideal of everything alien to living / some molding backwater of the earth / the city of Bruges itself / a corpse of the Middle Ages / bony bridges / the black veins of old canals / a lonely evolution in shadowed streets and beside sluggish canals / the music of graveyards / a resonant chorus that fills the air and sometimes drowns out the voices of those who still live / layers of cobwebs floating about the near ceiling / a burst of resistance / the pealing of church bells / the language of whimsy / the force of stars tugging away at various points / the dark waters of a canal / shiny black hair parted straight down the middle / a low table covered by a red velvet cloth / a world that applauds trumped-up illusions while denying or demeaning those that create the very lives they are living / a spectral thing full of strange suggestion / an untenanted room filled with the echoes of nothingness / the eyes of certain crudely fashioned dolls / a greenish glow from a mirror / placid meandering canals / enwrapped in mist / close crumbling houses / odd arching bridges / innumerable church towers / narrow twisting streets / queer little courtyards / everything gone forever / an empty mist / an eternal twilight

Vastarien

Candles in a cloistered cell / shapes beneath the shadows / tall buildings whose rooftops nod groundward / wide buildings whose facades follow the curve of a street / buildings whose windows and doorways tilt like badly hung paintings / stairways that wander off-course into useless places / caged elevators that urge unwanted stops on their passengers / a sequestered civilization of echoes flourishing among groaning walls / thin ladders ascending into a maze of shafts and conduits / the dark valves and arteries of a petrified and monstrous organism / a desolate serenity / silvery cinders / the mouths of great chimneys / shadow-puppets / cluttered gardens and crooked gates / the purling waters of black canals / faded masks concealing profound schemes / a place of supernatural clarity and stillness / the crystalline glare of a lantern / moonlight through a curtained window / darkened windows / souls who believe that the only value of this world lies in its power—at certain times— to suggest another / a scattering of stars and lights / a coveted paradise / the most gauzy phantom of another place / a shadowy mimic / the anatomy of a great dream / everlasting echoes / a rectangle of smudged glass within another rectangle of scuffed wood / crowded shelves / remnants of a luxuriant autumn / an obscene reality / to dwell among the ruins of reality / shadowed volumes / scripture that would begin with the portents of apocalypse and end with the wreck of all creation / to become the wind in the dead of winter / to howl the undoing of all that would abide in warmth and light / an enticing verse in a volume of esoterica / the dream of attaining some untainted good / a disastrous enlightenment / some hypothetical state of pure glory / the revelation that nothing ever known has ended in glory / some strictly demonic enterprise / something about one’s presence that makes one think of a crow / a scavenging creature in wait / a large, two-headed shadow / the sad frustration of the uninvited, the abandoned / the brilliant rectangle of a doorway / hopes and curiosities of an indeterminable kind / free-standing bookcases / pages and bindings of uncommon texture / abstract diagrams suggesting no orthodox ritual or occult system / a chronicle of strange dreams / an invocation of a world in waiting of genesis / days distilled into dreams and nights into nightmares / a deliverance by damnation / nightmare made normal / a horror uncompromised by any feeling of lost joy or a thwarted searching for the good / a nightmare transformed in spirit by the utter absence of refuge / a utopia of exhaustion, confusion, and debris / a dialogue of mystification, and possibly one of lies / the edge of a dreamless void / a dark and devouring bird / shadows and moonlight / an unbending web of heavy wire / unjust confinement / a slender syringe crowned with a silvery needle

[twitchesandstitches]

Alt Fleet Origins

idea i wrote up during my absent spell a couple months back; alluded to a few times and decided it was time to post it:

Consider this: the core group of the Fleet and thus the characters you might consider the central characters (Sierra, Terezi, Rose Quartz, Grimlock and Undyne) are the members of the generation that made the FLeet what it is, but they’re not the FIRST generation of the Fleet

They didn’t found it, but shaped it into what it is now, making them the heroes who defined the Fleet, gave it power and brought them home after ages of suffering and nomadic flight, but there is a lot that predates them

In short, it expands on the culture of the Fleet and makes it about more than just them!

This does require tossing out a lot of my original ideas for the Fleet’s origin and the foundations of the AU (Sierra discovering the Matriatrix and finding the other founding groups during the course of several adventures, building up their collective powers and creating the basics of the Fleet), but heck with it, some of the ideas I’ve had for this are SUPER fun and make a lot of sense within the AU

The actual founding generation goes back much further, perhaps an additional several hundred years prior to the birth of Sierra, who being the least difficult to map to realistic ages, makes a good barometer. The Fleet’s core ideas (it’s codes of honor, the way they handle things, and the basic social concepts) go back to the original founders, who banded together for mutual survival in a hostile multiverse where they were outcasts.

Most of the original groups are still represented here, but their ancestors are the ones who came into the fold first, so to speak.

(Greater detail and worldbuilding below)

I’m thinking there were probably no human members of the group, and came later; possibly humans are a bit of a rarity in this AU, at least in terms of population. Elves, dwarves, tieflings, they’re more common, but bog-standard humans are simply less common than you might assume.

The Homestuck contingent is represented by the troll ancestors: Neophyte Redglare as their leader, the Dolorosa, the Disciple, maybe the Executioner and the Signless. Additionally they had a large number of trolls allied to them, effectively they’re the Beforan versions of the ancestors (though giving them different relative ages for the sake of interesting divergence, like making Porrim a primordial vampire) until Beforus fell in ancient times, and the struggles of survival shaped the Beforus characters of the dancestors into the wiser but harder characters on par with the Alternian ancestors. While likely revolutionaries, these specific trolls were mainly just trying to survive without a homeworld, and being unwilling to take Condy’s ruthless measures to claim one for their own. Redglare would be the original wielder of the Matriatrix here, eventually passing it on to Sierra.

Because the troll kids (Terezi, Vriska, Feferi and the others) come later, presumably this means that you had to have access to all the troll ancestors genetics to get them. This might mean that, for a while, ALL the ancestors were part of the Fleet or had their genetics acquired somehow; this has interesting implications for Mindfang and the Condesce.

The Gems are, quite simply, the Crystal Gems. Possibly the core group (Rose, Pearl, Ruby, Sapphire, Amethyst, Bismuth) with additional crystal gems rounding out the population. They were also just trying to survive, and specifically avoid restarting Homeworld, the circumstances of the Crystal Gem Rebellion are way different here, and possibly unrelated to Earth, though it’s also quite possible that Homeworld was outright destroyed prior to those tensions building up into full revolution. The human characters, at the beginning of the Fleet, wouldn’t have been born yet. Lapis is off somewhere else doing her own thing, Peridot possibly hasn’t been born yet (???) and Jasper MIGHT have a servant of Rose before leaving to join the Stingers once they’re formed to amass her own glory, or else had no idea Pink Diamond survived.

The Transformers present an interesting possibility: maybe Grimlock is actually younger here? I like him having participated in the Autobot/Decepticon wars too much to have him been born recently, but if the war was more recent, that might play into things. I’ve implied that the Cybertron Civil War took place many eons ago and shaped history across the multiverse, but it’s possible that this can be fulfilled by the children of Primus carrying out the same narrative cycle repeatedly, with the Autobot uprising dating to, at most, a thousand years ago. This would make the Autobots SIGNIFICANTLY younger than usual, and also let me mess around more and make things even more AU.

An alternative possibility is having Transformers (And other long-lived beings that don’t mature physically) grow up as a response to emotional growth; they are prompted by life experiences to mature and change, but don’t do it in a vacuum. Thus, Grimlock and the other Autobots can be millions of years old but until they go through exceptional circumstances, they don’t change much over time. Leaning towards the former option of them simply being way younger than I normally do it, simply because I VERY RARELY make the Autobots younger than series average and it might be fun to mess around with that.

In any case, the founding Autobots would be a smallish group mainly led by Elita-1, Arcee, several others of note (Ultra Magnus, Jazz, ect.) and of course, Wheeljack and Ratchet, who are Grimlock’s parents. Grimlock himself may have been alive at this time, but he remained taciturn and withdrawn after the things he suffered, and doesn’t become a major player until later. The smallest in overall number, but the largest in terms of power. Most of those would, of course, be fembots.

The Undertale roster is largely unchanged, since they seem kinda long-lived anyway. They probably provide the largest initial population for the Fleet, because of the sheer diversity and monster girl possibilities they provide! Monster Musume characters would also be included in their numbers; specifically the monster moms. Toriel, as queen of the monsters and perhaps led by portents she believes the monster goddess, Mothra, has bestowed upon them, leads her people (the Undertale characters; the human ones and Deltarune characters are born later) to find a place to survive, and eventually bond with the rest of the Fleet.

Add in additional characters and groups as needed, with some provisos: no humans at all at this point, they come later. Secondly, this version of the Fleet is a large band of nomads, perhaps numbering several hundred at most for the first generation or so, traveling from continent to continent and then world to world via teleportation gates they discover, uncovering a mystery that eventually leads into the overarching conspiracy that the Fleet will later investigate.

They are thus a convoy, staying on the move from their enemies and just trying to survive. They have kids, mind their own business, but can’t help being heroes and getting a bit of a reputation; eventually they wind up being superheroes of a sort.

Redglare, as mentioned, is the first wielder of the Matriatrix for the FLeet. I dunno where SHE got it (found it? it was passed down to her by a mentor?) but she uses it in a very different way from Sierra; the modding and power-enhancing scene requires an economic base and adventuring capability the proto-Fleet does not have, at this point, but they are able to use some of its powers to begin changing themselves to stay alive and relevant. Possibly the first signs of hyper proportion power levels begins here. But no one has any idea how to use it, and as in the current time, must experiment: Redglare ultimately does not learn the specific abilities Sierra did, but combines its alchemizing abilities with her innate Mind powers to draw abilities from those around her, combined with the zeitgeist of the area around her and, in a sense, weaponize the narrative to randomly generate abilities and spell effects. She is ultimately far better at the subtle abilities and Sierra still falls short of living up to her skills. Redglare is the first champion and leader of the Fleet, the heroine they all adored, and leaves big shoes to fill. (Her fate is… open to debate.)

Eventually, there is a second phase around the third generation of children and the signs of the Matriatrix’s gifts imbuing them with hyper fertility and devouring/pregnancy powers so that the Fleet is associated with nomming themes and producing huge amounts of children. By this point they have multiplied by several hundred members, both taking in anyone who wants to join their merry band and reproducing… a LOT. Gems and Transformers have been changed to be able to have super pregnancies, but not to the one-woman population booms in the present. This significantly alters the dynamics for their people, since the difficulties of resources for making new Gems and Transformers is a major problem for reproduction; possibly something similar applies to trolls, as I imagine the mother grub not being a natural part of the reproduction, but akin to a biological cloning machine inducing inbreeding due to over reliance on it.

Around this phase, two things happen, in no particular order, but as a result, some humans enter the Fleet. Again, humans are a relatively rare and severely underpowered species, and possibly in the process of dying out. But their greatest place of utopian ideals and success is the world-nation of Wakanda, reimagined her as a massive ringworld inhabited by humans, robots and the creations of ancient humans. It is a distillation of Marvel, with the entire human population being mutants; powers are universal, and the older generation of BNHA characters also originate from here (All Might, Inko). The Fleet seeks shelter, and for some time, calls Wakanda home. This utopian wonderland becomes the Fleet’s first true stable homeland, and eventually the beginning of their spaceflights; eventually they can no longer remain after Wakanda is devastated by Evil, and the notion of Wakanda becomes a spiritual homeland they home to one day reestablish.

By this point, the clan social system that eventually replaces biological families entirely begins to manifest, growing out of the social structures of Wakanda and the factionalism present within the newborn Fleet itself.

The other thing that can happen before or after the joining with Wakanda; the discovery of ancient cloning facilities, in which humans played a part. Great mechanisms to produce vast amounts of cloned offspring lay dormant, but fully functional, and providing the Fleet with valuable lost technology that will become the basis for later bio-tech. The facility contains information on the twenty-eight hundred trillion different bloodlines of the many species recorded, among them human bloodlines that still have a claim to the last dynasties of Earth in its pre-Cataclysm hey-day, and the offspring of those bloodlines would have tremendous cultural influence due to their descent from the last great powers of their people.

The Fleet begins what will become a solemn vow to resurrect life whenever possible; eventually they will start gestating fallen species, but they begin by simply starting the machines back up and raising the resulting children on their own. Among these are the first human members to be born into the Fleet; these include the human guardians from Homestuck (Pop Egbert, Mom Lalonde, Grandpa Harley, non-abusive Bro Strider) as well as anyone explicitly confirmed to be human and born into the Fleet; of note, the human SU characters from an older generation, most prominently Greg Universe.

Additional time passes, more generations come and go, and the Fleet’s initial powers grow more advanced; rebirth via pregnancy becomes a viable technique though not as widespread as it will become, and extends life spans considerably. Hyper huge proportions and recreational modding become more common, and with Redglare’s increased control over the Matriatrix, the beginnings of the Fleet’s superpowers status beings.

Now we come to the birth of the ‘current generation’; the characters the AU focuses on. Sierra, the other TDI characters, and the Homestuck kids and trolls are born. (Analogues to the Beforan characters as they are in the dancestor bits are also born roughly around this time.) The human characters in question (mainly the TD and Homestuck humans like Jade, Roxy, Jane and John) are a mix of being born from the cloning processes and offspring of the human mutants. The trolls, though, are explicitly the biological children of the troll ancestors, even if they are not raised by them as per Fleet custom.

Thus, everyone effectively grows up as friends and have an established society that predates them, putting less of an emphasis on them as the sole heroes; they stand on the shoulders of those who came before.

Sierra winds up becoming a protege of sorts to Redglare, and Terezi, as her descendant, suffers a great deal of pressure to become as great as her, while Redglare does her best to just let her descendants have a happy, ordinary life.

At some point, though, Redglare leaves the story. However it happens, she passes the Matriatrix onto Sierra, when all expectation was that Terezi would continue her legacy. This causes a great deal of tension between the two, even though they are very close prior to this. Eventually it is repaired, but not without damage.

In her childhood, Sierra befriends Grimlock (Effectively being his human companion friend, in TF fandom terms), bringing him out of his gloomy shell and lightning him up a little bit into the hero we all know he can be.

Sierra’s discoveries, as well as those of her friends (most predominantly Feferi, who is effectively the mother of modding) and the leadership of their particular group begins to shape the Fleet into what it is, setting the stage for its current position as it grows and changes.

(This also means that Vriska, and perhaps a good chunk of the Stingers, were originally part of the Fleet, perhaps those who opted for personal gratification or glory over the Fleet’s heroic intentions.)

Some other consequences is that the Fleet initially grew gradually, slowly absorbing people into it over time and then growing just a bit faster at a time as the Matriatrix’s powers expanded into others… and relatively recently, their expansion went from a few worlds and a single fleet to multiple ones, and a MASSIVE population explosion that continues even to this day. This rapid expansion is clearly terrifying to most people and a serious threat to people who originally saw them as hedonist outcasts and rogues challenging tyrants.

The second one is a theme of building things over the course of multiple generations, but suddenly the plan is askew. Redglare, the seemingly immortal wielder of the Matriatrix, is gone. Her plans, whatever they were, are suddenly stalled and the Fleet doesn’t have a rudder; people depended on her and revered here, and Terezi and Sierra wind up having to take the reins and inspire people. Sierra the heart-felt champion and the one they adore, and Terezi winds up the one with a plan and purpose people can root for.

Things build up and expand from simpler roots, growing more complex and better than what their forerunners initially created. They might be standing on the shoulders of giants, but they’ll grow far bigger than their parents did.

(The metaphor is somewhat muddled by the fact that the Fleet’s stronger people genuinely regard ‘growing bigger than a planet and using your finger to destroy a kaiju’ as mid-tier feats, but the point still stands.)

[tomasorban]

The Anima Mundi

Content mirrors form. The chiasmic connection between immortality and mortality that we meet in Heraclitus is not merely coincidental. What we find here is more explicitly mirrored in perhaps the most difficult passage in Plato—Timaeus 35a–37b—in which the formation of the World Soul (psychē kosmou, anima mundi) is described as the very link between the eternal and the transient. In this most alchemical of Plato’s dialogues, the indivisible (the ‘circle of the same’) is linked to the divisible (‘the circle of difference’) via what he calls ‘the best of possible bonds’ (desmōn de kallistos). When the two circles, which do not want to join, are united, their point of union forms an x or cross (chi). This chiasmus defines the paradoxical juncture of spirit and matter, fire and earth. It is the spiritual point in the material world and the material point in the spiritual world.

In Platonic cosmology, the demiurge or divine artisan brings the infinite and the finite together to form a single point, and the result is the World Soul. In other words, this absolute chiasmic juncture is the very thing that animates the world (anima mundi). The world soul, moreover, is mirrored in the Platonic conception of the embodied soul, which is precisely conceived as a mean term between the divine and the human. It puts human perception in a privileged but also torn condition, enabling perspective on both the metaphysical and the physical worlds.

Through its ‘counter-stretched harmony’, the taut and tensile human psychē mirrors the macrocosmic chiasmus. Herein, the tension that mitigates against unity is secretly vital to its greater integrity. Like the dissonant seventh in musical harmony, tension anticipates the resolution of the fundamental tonos in the octave, while simultaneously maintaining perfect distance and equilibrium. Like the divine artisan, the human soul must not only wed the eternal to the transient, it must comprehend life’s grandest structures through its most contradictory details. Like the artisan, the artist embraces contradiction to encompass the feeling of infinity.

The counter-stretched nature of creation was sensed very keenly in modern times by Andrei Tarkovsky, the great Russian filmmaker who likened film to ‘sculpting in time’, and directing to literally being able to ‘separate light from darkness’ and ‘dry land from the waters’ (Genesis 1: 9–18).‘The work of art’, remarks Tarkovsky, ‘lives and develops, like any other natural organism, through the conflict of opposing principles’.

Hideousness and beauty are contained within each other. This prodigious paradox, in all its absurdity, leavens life itself, and in art makes that wholeness in which harmony and tension are unified. The image makes palpable a unity in which manifold different elements are contiguous and reach over into each other. […] The idea of infinity cannot be expressed in words or even described, but it can be apprehended through art, which makes infinity tangible. The absolute is only attainable through faith and in the creative act.

(Image: Arthea (Elena Frasca Odorizzi)

Proceeding through opposition, art makes infinity tangible. All authentic ars, all traditional technē, seek to render the universal creative act present through finite creation. Here, we take ars and technē in their archaic senses, in which both ‘art’ and ‘craft/technology’ were not dualised, but were each seen to participate in the divine intelligence (nous, epistemē, scientia), and by virtue of this were distinguished from artless labour (atechnos tribē). According to the medieval dictum ars sine scientia nihil (art is nothing without knowledge), no separation was made between a work of art per se and ordinary, ‘utilitarian’ objects, as is the case in the modern world; rather, handcrafted objects were not soullessly manufactured, but transformed into works of art through the very act ofpoēsis (creation). They were vivified, hence life-giving. The false dichotomy between high art and low technology has come about precisely because manufactured objects (cheirotechnē) are no longer made by hand: they have lost their soul, their animating connection to the human and transcendent. As the Alsatian Hermetic philosopher, René Schwaller de Lubicz, once remarked:

If someone were to tell you that mechanised civilisation clouds the soul, this would be an affirmation without practical impact. On the other hand, if I say to you that mechanised civilisation clouds and even kills consciousness, you will comprehend this warning: if between yourself and the object of your labour you interpose an automatic tool which eliminates your will and above all your sensibility, all living contact between you and the fashioned material is cut off. The artisan no longer ‘feels’ (sent) and no longer comprehends the wood, the leather, the metal, his work is inanimate; it cannot emanate nor radiate any life for it has not received any. You must then resort to analyses, to statistical studies of the qualities of the material relinquished to the automatism of the machine, for you have stretched a veil between yourself and the thing; and although the thing subsists, you—the conscious living being—lose your life by suffocating your consciousness. It is the same with the doctor, who must sympathetically feel (éprouver) his patient’s illness, or otherwise become a mechanic. Observe the phases of history: the most fruitful, the most genial and the most ‘living’ epochs have always had a flourishing community of artisans. The Consciousness of a people can only be renewed through the crafts and not through doctrines. Mechanised civilisation is the agony of the world.

Plato, as Coomaraswamy reminds us, ‘knows nothing of our distinction of fine from applied arts. For him painting and agriculture, music and carpentry and pottery are all equally kinds of poetry or making’ (poēsis).

Ars and technē thus conceived are not merely mirrors or simulacra, but instruments and instances of creation, of making infinity tangible. Creation, in this sense, is regarded as continuous and ever-present, and all true creativity is thus participation in the ever-presence of origin. The artist creates an image of the absolute, according to Tarkovsky, and ‘through the image is sustained an awareness of the infinite: the eternal within the finite, the spiritual within matter, the limitless given form’. The animating paradox at the heart of life is thus the hidden ferment through which harmony and tension are unified.