#Axiom-1

[lonestarflight]

"Axiom-1 (Ax-1) Liftoff

A SpaceX Falcon 9 rocket, carrying the company's Crew Dragon spacecraft, lifts off from Launch Complex 39A at NASA’s Kennedy Space Center in Florida at 11:17 a.m. EST on April 8, 2022, on Axiom Mission 1 (Ax-1). Commander Michael López-Alegría of Spain and the United States, Pilot Larry Connor of the United States, and Mission Specialists Eytan Stibbe of Israel, and Mark Pathy of Canada are aboard the flight to the International Space Station. The Ax-1 mission is the first private astronaut mission to the space station."

NASA ID: KSC-20220408PH-KLS01_0031

Date: April 8, 2022

[kalinara]

(Fall of the House of X #3)

This set of panels has two of my favorite things:

Cyclops showing off his ability to navigate and maneuver without sight, even in the most dire circumstances.

Cyclops being able to find common ground and make an alliance with a former enemy for the greater good.

Possibly three 3. Having enough weird sexy mojo to get a lady who hates him entirely to save his life and follow him into a sewer.

[fictional-gods-tournament]

Round 1

Characters' info under the cut

Queen Teatinu (wiki)

No domain.

Propaganda:

she's never explicitly called a goddess (only as a queen) but it's pretty clear vibes-wise she's meant to be read as one, seeing as she's capable of purifying (killing) all human life if necessary. you know. kid's show stuff! (also she is a funny dog)

The Great Reason / The Axiom (wiki)

Domain: Creation

Propaganda:

It is the supreme force of the Megami Tensei / Persona series

[dead-generations]

wow. I am regretting my focus on rocketry and not keeping up with payloadery. because everything going with Vast is amazing! Super exciting stuff, really really smart architecture and scope and planning. focusing on getting a simple single module station in orbit as fast and as cheaply as possible is brilliant and will put them ahead of everyone else, and they can leverage that into developing their real ambition for Haven-2.

Focusing on an externally identical modular scalable system is also so smart, as they can adjust or scale up or down (likely down) their ambitions based on market demand. and no one knows what market demand will be. the focus on minimal on orbit assembly is brilliant.

Very tight design, very realistic goals and read of the market, really intelligent design methodology, and just a brilliant idea to focus on getting something operating ASAP to learn by doing.

And they have done this all so rapidly, in next to no time. The big competitors in Skylab and Orbital Reef have had years more time, millions of NASAbux and direct oversight from NASA and Vast will have a commercial station in orbit and operational before any of them.

Definitely much more realistic and well planned than Orbital Reef - which is basically gaurenteed to both over promise and under deliver to NASA and still be too big for the market as it will exist. it's also moving faster and has a better operational timeline (planning for 3 years between Orbital Reefs launch and becoming operational is nuts. and they don't even have a crew vehicle to get to OR). I'm not sure Orbital Reef can win a contract realistically, it just costs too much and is too big and too ambitious and too slow, but Bezos is really good at winning contracts via lobbying and lawsuits

I still love skylabs 1 launch 1 station approach and I love that they're utilizing the era of big fairings we are in to maximise what you get from one launch. I can see ESA being keen on the design and if it is easy to manufacture they could provide bespoke stations just for ESA, JAXA or USSF. Haven-1 or 2 could also do this for cheaper but less space, which might suite JAXA and USSF quite well.

[corntort]

i animated it

[wannaliveattheholidayinn]

nils ortega when i catch you. when i catch you nils ortega. nils ortega when i catch you

[twohundredheroicaxioms]

One: First, do good.

[luciferfemme]

I'm starting to be concerned that the more books I've read my writing is going to get worse because they've all just been so bad you guys.

[bauerntanz]

Die Bielefeld-Verschwörung

Seit 30 Jahren hegen viele Deutsche Zweifel an der Existenz von ... Bielefeld. Achim Held ist schuld. Der Informatiker aus Kiel erfand die Verschwörungstheorie. 1994 hatte er mit dem Spruch: "Bielefeld gibt es doch gar nicht!" die sog Bielefeld-Verschwörung kreiert.

Seit 30 Jahren hegen viele Deutsche ernsthafte Zweifel an der Existenz von … Bielefeld. Achim Held ist schuld. Der Informatiker aus Kiel erfand eine Verschwörungstheorie und ließ die Stadt verschwinden. 1994 hatte der Mann mit dem Spruch: “Bielefeld gibt es doch gar nicht!” die sogenannte Bielefeld-Verschwörung kreiert. Und dann war er vom Erfolg seiner Satire total überrascht. 2019 hatte die…

[indigosfindings]

i havent really come back to the like "satisfaction brought it back" etc stuff much (my attitude is that like, i said my piece pretty comprehensively around 3 years ago & my opinion on the subject hasnt really changed in that time) but like. there really is something interesting going on there right? like from the foundation of the heuristic a really strange perspective on, like, The Function Of Words is revealed. like the contention of "full version" claims is essentially that You Have Been Lied To, that a True & Worthwhile & Radical & Liberatory concept has been suffocated & hidden from you so that a detrimental concept could take root instead, & that the battleground for this War Over Your Mind & Morals is... popular adages.

take as an example: "the early bird gets the worm" / "but the second mouse gets the cheese". these are clauses with a pretty straightforward illustrative utility: person 1 might say "the early bird gets the worm" to convey something like "i think it's best to do this thing asap," & person 2 might reply "...but the second mouse gets the cheese" to convey "i disagree--i think caution is more important than haste here." implicitly both people should understand what they are referring to (person 1 might be voicing their opinion on sleep schedules, project management, important purchases...) because these idioms arent actually a conduit into fundamental truths of the universe: theyre recognizable shorthands symbolizing a pertinent thought! but the alleged "full version" has no use in that context: "the early bird gets the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese" is contradictory! there's extremely limited utility in an adage that's, like, arguing with itself lmao. in fact, neither of the clauses is universally transferable to every single situation! when you use an idiom, youre not consulting it to decide what you believe--youre using it to *express* what you believe. & that leads into the mistake that the "full versions" truthers make: theyre assuming of language a kind of power that disregards its actual utility

the often commented-on contradiction between "many hands make light work" & "too many cooks spoil the broth" doesnt tell us that these are two fundamental codes of reality whose mutual opposition hints at A Glitch In The Matrix--it tells us that these are two different phrases that have utility in two different contexts to communicate two different ideas, & that neither *needs* to be applicable to every context, any more than the existence of the term "book club" would imply that every gathering on earth is a book club.

like radically (from the roots!) to say "the full version of the phrase was cut down so that people would not be free thinkers" is to say "altering a phrase will alter the ideas beneath the phrase", which is to assume that axioms are speaking a truth or concept into existence: implanting values in your mind rather than representing ideas out of your mind--implying a certain responsibility toward justice, veracity, ethics, etc, & a correlary danger (cognitohazard?) if that responsibility is not met. itd be like saying that a mnemonic like "ROY G BIV" dictates the order of the colour spectrum. it's a strange & immaterial way to conceptualize language--in fact, it's probably that same immateriality that allows the conspiracy-theory conclusion that ~they~ have made a concerted effort to suppress these phrases.

[cryptotheism]

Axiom 1: The world is a cosmic engine driven by suffering

Axiom 2: God requires worship to exist.

Axiom 3: God allows suffering to drive us to worship.

Theory: We can eroticize suffering faster than suffering can be caused.

[nostalgebraist]

I've started reading Seth Dickinson's Exordia. (Only about 1/4 of the way through, no spoilers please.)

It's a lot of fun! But it's also kind of frustrating.

What I've read so far could be described – with an eerie degree of precision [*] – as "a cross between Axiom's End and Almost Nowhere."

And like, in the abstract, that sounds great! But that's the problem. These precedents set very high expectations for "how much I, personally, am going to like this book," and even when Exordia is doing fine on its own terms, it's hard for me to avoid thinking things like "this part was better the first time I saw it," or mentally rounding the book off to "just a somewhat worse version of something else."

You know that cute line people say sometimes, "[X] would be so good if it was good"? I won't say that about Exordia, because it is good, at least sort of. But there's a similar thing going on.

Again, I'm not that far in yet, so maybe it'll grow on me.

----

[*] Seriously, some of the similarities are kind of spooky. My best guess is that it's all coincidental and/or the result of shared influences – among other things, the afterword says the first draft of Exordia was finished in 2017, predating AE and the vast majority of AN. (And of course the chances that any given person has read or heard of AN are basically negligible to begin with.)

[oncewhenalongtimeago]

I am so interested in learning more about what happened in Berk in your Thistle, Scout and Scottish Bluebells story; the tension between Hiccup and the other Berkians got me hooked 🫢

Thistle, Scout and Scottish Bluebells pt 4

Pairing: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Modern!Fem!Reader

Words: 3,339

Something wicked this way comes. Or, well, you come to him.

Tags:  httyd 1, aged up, au, time travel, bitter hiccup, semi-optimistic reader, edited

<Previous - Next>

Hypothesis, research, experiment, conclusion, or Research, hypothesis, experiment, results, or- or anything else. You weren't sure by which names the steps went by. You knew Hypothesis for sure. It didn’t matter, anyways. It was all semantics. 

You were loath to say your pitiful repertoire of K-12 scientific theory meant nothing in the world of wiles and physicality. There would be no point to it otherwise. However, this was much less theory, all practicum. It was all so much deeper than the scientific method. Hypothesis, experiment, research- it was like reciting your ABCs while writing a twelve-page thesis on transformational grammar.

What you needed to perry about was more along the lines of old textbooks with thick, laminate, card-board covers. You needed Columb and Ohm and Plank, especially if they and their theorems might have a smidgen to do with all of this. Any of this. With- what? Mechanics? Violent gear infantry? Postulates and axioms and whatever else… Oh, bother.

Balancing chemical equations in redox reactions, titrating and Gel Electrophoresis- that, you might have been able to do. With the right tools provided, of course. You could deal in physics theory, but in mechanical practicality? That was a whole new beast. 

It was a fact that you were no expert on the ups and downs and mechanical sideways of technological genius. You were also loath to craft- half the things you needed, you were sure, were products of the forges and fires. Black lung was a worry… And soot, too, in a more general sense. And so, you were stumped. And lost. And miserable, and cold. 

It was very, very dark. Your hands clutched at your upper arms, your eyes blinking tiredly. It was much too early for this, and you felt much too useless to make a way for yourself. Really, no matter what you did, you were certain you’d end up dead in a ditch somewhere, anyways. 

You could nearly hear it, the low thrum of ominous horror-movie music in your ears. It wasn’t a tangible sound, more something you felt in the air. It was the breeze strumming against the baby hairs at the back of your neck and arms, it was all made up by the sound of the skin on your palms rushing over the prickled gooseflesh of your arms.

It was creepy, it was cold, and it was very-very gray out. It was just like Jaws or Scream, but in the woods, and you were alone, and there was less drinking and no teenagers. You were quite sure that you were no Final Girl, either. Or, maybe you were. You hoped so.

You didn’t have your phone. There wasn’t even a signal for you to search for, not that you felt that a phone signal would at all decrease the likelihood of you getting murdered. There were no park rangers- none of that modern-day security. Not that security had ever stopped anyone from getting lost in the woods…

 It wasn’t a magical forest or a particularly unique one. You hadn’t even really seen a dragon yet. It just felt dangerous.

You probably wouldn’t be fine, no, if anyone showed up. Any one or anything. You thought very haughtily that your ability to flee was outmatched. Still, it was odd- strange, even, that you hadn’t yet seen any much of a glimpse of a dragon.

If it hadn’t been for everything else, you would have assumed that this was all one big hoax. Like The Truman Show… But, at least, if your situation was being televised to the country, you would be liable for some good pay.  

It was very misty. And your stomach was empty, too. And you were very, very nervous. 

Hiccup. That piece of shit. You weren’t sure how or why you found him so responsible for all of this but you did. That dreaded, disastrous rat. That foul lump of ragged blanket on that dumb, rickety bed, back-turned and silent.

Your feet crunched and squished against the old and damp forest floor, along a path that felt not at all like a path. It wasn’t so ‘carved out of the forest’ as it was just the clearest way, dead plants and wilting fauna giving the area a wide berth. You assumed almost that perhaps the forest was sick, or something. Very hard on the, ‘or something.’

The hairs on your arms prickled even more so than they ever had before, which you hadn’t known was a thing that your arms could do. 

You stopped, suddenly, clenching your mud-crusted hands against your arms.

The sound of thumping grew louder. You thought it might have been your heart in your ears, or something in your head. Maybe a burst brain vessel, or the sound of a million medieval diseases trying to ruin your… Everything. Whatever.

You waited some more, and then were overcome by the thought that perhaps the sound wasn’t all coming from inside your head. It was less echoey, so perhaps not at all like a drum.

You fought a physical shudder. Or, well, you didn’t. You just shuddered.

Go away, go away… You started, thinking very hard.

You extended your palm, letting it graze against the side of a tree, wincing as your wrist scraped against a bundle of leaves and twigs.

You could turn your way around and probably find your way back, but you were still mad. 

You turned around to leave, lifting up a large-booted foot before pausing quite suddenly, your arms up by your sides. 

You were overcome by a sudden thought. What would Hiccup do? Or… have done? 

Well… You had no idea. None at all. You weren’t particularly sure what you should do. This was no twenty-first century, after all. If you were, perhaps, to consider your best course of action… You wanted to go home. 

And if movie-logic was at all a factor to be considered in relation to your strange and awful circumstance, the amount of progress that you made must have been equivalent to the proportion of main-character-ness exhibited by you personally. 

There might have been some flaw in your rhetoric. It was also a fact of life that you’d never get results if you didn’t first test your hypothesis. And that meant… Out of the frying pan and into the fire. Or, in Rome… What was it that people said? ‘When in Rome, do as the Romans do?’ Either, or.

It meant being strange. And stupid. Like Hiccup. Because he was both of those things. You could hear it now, his voice- Normal, mostly, but with an underbite. ‘Hand me the rag.’

Suck on it.

Damn, damn, damn.  You thought of all the mish-mash of scattered pieces at your feet, and at the poorly secured -and stolen- hammer that you had had in one hand before cursing and throwing it down into the mud. You did not have that pure talent. You did not have an inventive mind. No, all of this would have to be learned the hard way. And the hard way meant…

You grimaced. You had to suck it up.

You burst forth through the undergrowth, twigs scraping against your knees.

“Ah-ha-haha..!” You shouted weakly. You stilled. Your voice… tapered. Viking-ly.

There was a man there, and he was old.

He had a gnarled, thin face and a long beard with a limp moustache, in the Viking fashion. Despite his stick-like limbs, there was not a cane in sight. No helmet, either. He wore Viking clothes-looking rags. He just hardly paused what he was doing and gave you a hard, disinterested, distasteful sneer. 

His arms were all limp muscle and bone, stick-thin. His skin was deeply sun-spotted and of a slightly yellowish shade. He was a bony old man.

A second later, and there was another ‘thump’ as his axe once again hit the top of a piece of wood, which you noticed was already littered with an array of aggressive axe-marks. 

You didn’t relax though, no. He had the type of look about him that made you think about skinned girls in basements- a bundle of blonde hair and runny eyeliner. A city kind of alleyway and a mugshot. Number-one suspect.

If he had a basement, you were sure that's what he’d have put in it. He would dig a hole and bury them in it, maybe. Or maybe he never had a basement. Maybe he buried his victims outside. Or maybe he burned them- you saw, at the corner of your eye, something flickering. There was a weak fire just behind him, swaying pathetically with the… There were no breezes. None at all.

You weighed the pros and cons of body burning in your head. Burying, too. Burning… Pork was something that came to your mind, which didn’t sound all too bad, if, in context, it hadn’t come hand-in-hand with a burning human body. 

Your heart was beating like a madman against the inside of your chest. The man’s teeth were bared as he shouted at you, “Gerrotff!” 

You yelped, startled, and nearly stumbled as the man took a rough step forwards, axe at the ready.

You didn’t run, though, petrified, you pulled arms up by your chest as you jumped away, the sharpest end of the old man’s dull axe embedding itself into the body of a tree trunk. It went in by a few measures of something relevant. You had a hard time peeling your eyes away from it.

After a hurried loud moment of angry, incomprehensible yelling, the man, painting, stopped trying to pull his axe out of the tree. He turned to give you a hard look.

“Whatar’ yerh?!” He demanded, arms hanging loose and tensed by his sides, at the ready. His jaw ground into itself like a horse’s chewing. It was erratic, moving in time to the irrational twitching of the corner of his brow and to what must have been the seductive thrum of violence in his head. His eyes told you that, wide and way-too-focused.

You could try running into the trees behind him, but that would involve going near him. He could grab you, if he had the strength- he had the strength to swing an axe, so his looks must have been deceptive. Not necessarily in terms of… Anti-appeal, but in terms of other things. You could try running to your side or behind- you couldn’t see either ways. If you tripped or fell, or fidgeted or found yourself in any way delayed, it would be so easy to grab you by the collar and drag you back.

What had he said? What was he saying? Your mind was racing. You were going to die, you were, sure. Your eyes twitched in place. Look around- or stay put?

“You- You were- Hi.” You tried, finally. If you were going to die, you wanted to- to- you didn’t know what. “Hi-hi, hi. Ah- Uhm… need any help?”

You stepped back, shoulders hunched and your hands clasped down by your waist, though they never stopped shaking. Your head was ducked and your arms straining as you watched him. You fought the urge to scuff your boots, too, feigning bashfulness- and cowering. Fawn, fawn, fawn.

Did he understand you? It-that-whatever could have been a product of your poor English. Or… Your poor Viking-ish. Norse. That had… That had him acting this way. You didn’t know of a grammar mistake that would warrant attempted murder, but ah, well….

You took everything in. You focused deeply on the man. Despite the blurring in your periphery, though they could hardly be called piles, you saw those too, spotty and slim though they were. There were what looked to be crude likenesses of wooden dragons ripped from walls or supports or some other such thing all in them, and there were some other things, too. Wooden handles, all chipped and old, what looked to be an old fur, and some belts- 

“A ainae repea-”

There wasn’t really any place to hide. You might be able to run for it, but- You felt slightly behind you, the side of your hand whipping against odd, spindly bark in thick and thin formations, scattered through the air- in your panic, you’d lost your grip on the exit. Or, its whereabouts. The thought of which left you scrambling.

Your neck broke out in a cold sweat. You found yourself unable to look him in the eye, suddenly. If you’re going to kill me off, please make it quick. 

Your breath hitched the hardest it ever had, your eyes locking into a dark stain deep in the side of one discarded leather strap, seeping out towards the body from a great, big gash in its thick and ragged side. 

You looked just beyond the man’s feet. And then… Something fluttering at the edge of the fires caught your eye. A thin piece of parchment, covered in clumsy scratch marks and rune numbers in the oddest of orders-

“- Whit's yer kith-?!” He lunged forwards again threateningly. 

“Hey- wait! Don’t- that-” You ended weakly, pointing with stiff arms, though they felt much more like butter at that moment.  “What for it?”

The old man glared at you again, again. Then harder, when you didn’t run off. He wouldn’t eat you- you, well, you didn’t think that you would taste so good. Or, at least you hoped so. 

“It’s important! Please, please-” You begged hands clasping as you took a step forwards, almost matching him. There was a pressure building behind your eyes, though it wasn’t a sorrowful sort of cry. It was more… Stressed. Obviously so.

Your heart thumped. Once, twice, three times, four and then five.

Would he bury you at six feet or ten? You heard bodies took longer to decay the deeper they were set into the earth, so maybe two. Two feet. It’s not as if there was anyone out here who’d look for you.

The old man stepped back, features not softening but changing shape almost as he regarded you. “Aye, ye mad lass! What’re ye on abot?”

Who is he? Why is he doing all of- That? You took a hard moment to pant as he relaxed some. You felt a bit like a bug under a glass- you felt the heat most definitely, even though there was no sun to be had. 

It was silent. The old man didn’t ask again. Not the same question, or a clarifying one. He didn’t make a statement either.

“Just-” Your voice cracked violently, both stuck at the highest pitch and getting softer by the second, “I want to ask you for a- a-” 

A favor, a favor, a favor- What was the word? You swallowed in such a way that your throat caught. It hurt. “A fa- A ‘favor?’”

“A favor, eh? for an odd lass i’ these odd woods…” He let out a high scoff, verging on a cackle, all sardony, no intrigue. “If ye wander these halls, a stranger s'till an enemy! An Outcast ye be, an it’sa fool wha takes ye intae his woods! Why shouldnae ‘A cut yeh doun where ye stand?!”

The man sneered at you again, knobbly, hard-knuckled hand grasping at the handle of his axe. He took a step forward threateningly, though he halted suddenly as his axe still refused to budge from the tree. 

You felt slightly less intimidated.

“Please. Give-me.” After a very long moment, you spoke again. You wanted to kick yourself. “And- And, I’m not an outcast! I’m- I’ve been here for a while. I’m a- I travel, yes, but- I’ll find you anything you want!” 

“Anything, you say?” The old man spat, showing ugly, gnarled, yellow teeth, some there, most not. He turned slightly away from you for a moment, tugging against his axe and grinning wickedly under a messy, gray moustache as it budged slightly. Without looking, he shot out a booted foot, knocking a half-stack of parchment from the fires. “There’s nothin ‘a worth on this Gods forsaken island… But I’d like tae see ye try.”

Your eyes widened as he took a step forwards, knowing with your most animal brain what he was about to do before he did it. You glanced towards the array of junk by your feet. If it was there- if the paper was there, then maybe you could grab it and run.

But all in a moment, the man lifted his axe, and he began to run at you, yelling.

“I’ll find it! I prom- I promise I’ll-” With the highest scream you’ve ever let out, you started sprinting, arms scraping violently against dry and brittle branches that reachout out like claws. You didn’t wait for a path to appear to you, you just pushed your way through the spiny underbrush. 

As you burst your way backwards, tears trickling down your cheeks, cold and wind-bothered, despite the adrenaline, you couldn’t help but to think of about those strange and mysterious characters- the outline of a gear, and the inklings of something round and wooded sketched out onto paper, slightly hidden between two old, scratched leather covers.

What was on those papers? Well, you weren’t completely sure. But you knew you needed them.

Hypothesis: …

-

“God-damn it!” You stormed in place, letting out a grumble from way back in your throat. “It’s fine. It’s fine.”

Doesn’t sound fine. There was something smug about his silence… And him. There was alway something smug about him and his darned shuffling and everything else.

You huffed, cringing at the sound of your boots scuffing against the wood planking. Disgusting- that is what it was. Not that Hiccup cared- he stepped everywhere in his boots. Wore the same shirt and pants every day… At least he bathed. Maybe. You’d never seen him do it but you didn’t smell much, really, so he had to be clean. At least, he was as scentless as anyone could be without deodorant.

You mussed your hair with your hands, eyes clenched shut with frustration. 

He was sitting there, ignoring you. Back to that, are we, then?

Stupid, stupid- Happy.

I’m happy, I’m happy. I’m happy.

You were not happy, Glaring back, you sent him a look that said, ‘None of your business.’ Angrily, hastily,  you clenched your elbows.

“What do you want, Sherlock?” You snapped, finally. Of course, you were sure he didn’t get the reference. Though the result of geography and time that might have been, you still found him to be quite plebian for it. Sherlock Holmes.

He didn’t respond to you. 

You huffed, shuffling back slightly before throwing yourself onto the bed. 

Ouch.

You landed with hardly a bounce, though you stubbornly refused to readjust, crossing your arms over your chest and planting your neck awkwardly against the wall. You ignored the way your heels of your bootes felt against the frame and the slight layer of fabric over it, your neck prickling and wood creaking dangerously as you waited for the bed to collapse.

Hiccup sent you an awnry look, annoyed by the noise. Not ‘probably,’ no, the implication was clear. And, probably, he was annoyed by your own propensity to take up space. His shabby stool squeaked slightly as he shifted from where he had been hunched over whatever it was that he was doing in the corner of the room.

You glared back at him stubbornly.

Get out of my bed. You read it in his eyes.

You stared at him even more stubborn-ly. No.

After a very quick and tense stand-off, Hiccups turned away.

You still didn’t feel guilty. You doubted he would really kick you off today, not that he had ever had to. You usually slept on the floor. It was most probably a forge night, anyways, and the bed was always yours on forge nights. Still, you hoped he felt appropriately put off.With budding, frustrated energy burbling back up to the corner of your eyes, You glared at him in a way that you hoped came off appropriately disrespectful. It’s mine. It’s mi-ine.

[shinosarna]

The only distinction that would make sense is that Vania is for game with focus on RPG elements (i.e. numerical statistics that you increment by playing and not just by exploration) and Metroid is for gamnes that don't.

Because let's face it, "Metroidvania" is not actually named after Metroid and Castlevania - it's named specifically after Super Metroid and Castlevania: Symphony of the Night. And SotN being an action RPG is easily it's largest difference from SM.

do you prefer the metroid or vania side of metroidvania

I don't think it's useful to taxonomise them that way. I've never seen anyone produce a definition of what the distinction between "metroid" and "vania" is that didn't end up with at least one actual Metroid or Castlevania game on the "wrong" side of the dividing line, much less one that could fruitfully be applied to the genre as a whole.

[talonabraxas]

The Swastika Symbol 卍 The Buddhist swastika is called "manji" (卍) in Japanese, and it is known as "wan" (卍, 万)" in Chinese. In Sanskrit, it is referred to as "svastika" (स्वस्तिक), which means "conducive to well-being," derived from "su-" (good, auspicious) and "asti" (to be, to exist).

Meaning & Symbolism in Buddhism

In Buddhist tradition, the manji (swastika) is a sacred and auspicious symbol representing harmony, eternity, and the interconnectedness of all things. Its arms, usually turning to the left (counterclockwise, 卍) in East Asian Buddhism or to the right (clockwise, 卐) in Indian traditions, symbolize the revolving forces of Dharma and the eternal cycle of life, death, and rebirth (Samsara).

Deeper Symbolism

Cosmic Harmony – It represents the balance of opposites (like yin and yang in Taoism), reflecting the unity of all phenomena. Buddha’s Heart and Footprint – In many Buddhist iconographies, the swastika is found on the chest or palms of statues of the Buddha, signifying his infinite wisdom and compassion. The Wheel of Dharma (Dharmachakra) – The swastika is a geometric simplification of the eight-spoked Dharma Wheel, showing the ever-moving cosmic order of the universe. Four Cardinal Directions – It extends to the fourfold nature of existence (North, South, East, West), linking it to space and the infinite expanse of reality.

Esoteric Buddhist Perspectives

In Vajrayāna Buddhism, the swastika often appears in mandalas and yantras as a gateway to higher consciousness. It is also associated with certain Bodhisattvas, particularly Maitreya, the future Buddha.

In Japanese Esoteric Buddhism (Shingon), the manji is a symbol of the primordial truth and the cosmic reality of Mahāvairocana Buddha (Dainichi Nyorai)—the central deity in many tantric practices.

Connection to Other Traditions

In Jainism, it represents the four states of existence: gods, humans, animals, and hell-beings. In Hinduism, it is a solar symbol linked to Surya (the Sun), Vishnu, and Ganesha. In Western Esotericism, the swastika has been used as a solar, alchemical, and Hermetic emblem, predating its later misappropriations.

The Buddhist Swastika (Manji) in Western Hermeticism and Qabalah

The manji (卍 / 卐) in Buddhist symbolism aligns deeply with principles found in Western Hermetic Qabalah, Alchemy, and Tarot, especially when understood as a rotating force of cosmic balance, evolution, and divine will.

1. The Swastika as the Rotating Cross of the Elements (Tetragrammaton & Tiphareth)

In the Western Hermetic tradition, the cross (☩) is a foundational symbol, representing the four elements, the four directions, and the divine tetragrammaton (יהוה - Yod-Heh-Vav-Heh). The swastika, being a rotating cross, adds the idea of motion, transformation, and the eternal turning of the cosmos.

Tiphareth (תפארת), the Solar Sephirah in Qabalah, aligns perfectly with the swastika’s solar connotations, particularly in Hindu and Buddhist traditions. The Golden Dawn viewed the swastika as a rotating force that could symbolize either constructive (deasil, clockwise) or destructive (widdershins, counterclockwise) currents, akin to the alchemical cycles of dissolution and coagulation.

This movement mirrors the Hermetic axiom: "As above, so below"—the continual unfolding and refolding of divine patterns in the physical world.

2. Tarot and the Breath of the Swastika (Manji)

If we think of Tarot as a breath cycle, the swastika represents the continuous inhale and exhale of divine energy through the suits and elements.

The Four Arms of the Swastika = The Four Suits of the Minor Arcana Wands (Fire) – Creative motion, the Will in action Cups (Water) – Emotional currents, the inner spiral of the soul Swords (Air) – Thought’s dynamic process, movement in mind Disks (Earth) – The physical realization of spiritual laws

Thus, the swastika aligns with The Wheel of Fortune (X) in the Major Arcana, which reflects the perpetual turning of karma, dharma, and cosmic cycles.

3. The Swastika and the Qabalistic Lightning Flash

In Hermetic Qabalah, the Lightning Flash of Creation, which descends from Kether to Malkuth (forming the path of divine emanation), has a rotational counterpart: the return ascent of consciousness—aligning with the swastika’s cyclical motion.

The descent (clockwise, 卐) aligns with the involution of divine force into matter The ascent (counterclockwise, 卍) represents spiritual return, enlightenment, and Nirvana

This matches the Buddhist idea that the swastika embodies the eternal path of awakening—a journey from illusion (Malkuth) back to divine unity (Kether).

4. Esoteric Alchemy: The Swastika as the Prima Materia

In Alchemy, the swastika symbolizes the dynamic transformation of the Prima Materia (first matter) into the Philosopher’s Stone.

The turning arms represent the alchemical process: Calcination (Fire), Dissolution (Water), Separation (Air), and Conjunction (Earth). In this sense, the manji is a glyph of transmutation—the constant reworking of base consciousness into divine gold.

This echoes Vajrayāna Buddhist teachings, which treat the mundane world as raw material for enlightenment, just as an alchemist transmutes lead into gold.

5. The Swastika as the Key to Magickal Motion (Chokmah’s Whirlwind)

Chokmah (חכמה) in Qabalah is associated with the whirlwind of divine motion—it is not static wisdom but active, living force, the archetypal "Will to Evolve."

In this sense, the swastika is a glyph of Chokmah’s energy descending into creation (Yod, the first spark) The rotation signifies the primal whirlwind, the storm of existence, which eventually crystallizes into form (Binah, structure).

Thus, the manji is a cosmic yantra of divine will in perpetual movement—never fixed, always flowing. Final Synthesis: Manji as the Breath of the Divine

The Buddhist swastika is a universal expression of the Hermetic Great Work:

1.It shows the interplay of creation and dissolution, much like the Tree of Life and the Lightning Flash. 2.It is a breath—inhale (form), exhale (transformation)—mirroring the cycle of Tarot and Qabalah. 3.It represents the eternal journey of the soul, the Wheel of Fortune turning through Samsara toward ultimate enlightenment. -Tarot of Eli

[light-nerds]

deltarune chapter 3+4 let's plays i recommend! these are LPs who's chapter 1+2 videos i enjoyed, who are currently uploading new chapter ones. some of them only have individual playlists per chapter, so i'll just be linking channels for those.

BornLosersGaming Roamer Gameables Welonz hellofizzi bonus: Axiom Archives - only just started chapter 2 but really really good so far Symbalily - hasn't put out anything for 3 or 4 yet but her Undertale and Deltarune chapters 1-2 playthroughs are some of my favs!!

not sure if anyone else finds watching playthroughs as fun as i do, but a lot of these are super underrated. these are also LPers who care a lot about the story/characters and tend to have good analysis and find secrets :)