#Impulsive force models

[notmoreflippingelves]

Every year, I tell myself that I should really consider taking off work for Father Brown premiere day, and then it comes around and I forget to do it, and I spend all day thinking about how I would so much rather be sitting cozy under a million blankets and going back to Kembleford than being forced to do boring work things.

[revelboo]

It’s already out on digital! Instant purchase 🤣 I know what I’m doing on my birthday Saturday- rewatching this and assembling TF models

It Had to Be You Pt 7

TFO Megatron x Reader

• Grip tightening as his servos tremble with the exertion of mass displacement, it’s almost like a gift when you stop trying to shove him away. When your breathing hitches and you relax that tiny bit against him. Submitting to his touch and resting your cheek against his chest. Internal systems rumbling, he runs his servos through your hair and down to cup your nape. Those little hands still on him, but not pushing weakly at him. Not clinging to him the way he’s gripping you, either. Venting raggedly, he just enjoys this victory.

• That unwanted feeling of rightness spills through you in a warm wave. Coaxing you to just give in to whatever this is and stop fighting so hard. And you want to even as you hate yourself for it. Don’t want being held like this to feel achingly like coming home. For your fingers to itch to reach up and smooth the furrow you can just see under the severe angle of his helm, because that impulse is dangerous. That familiarity.

• Servos delving into your hair, tangling there to keep you from trying to pull away, he feels a tension he’s carried for so long it’s just become a part of him easing just a bit. Soon enough, you’ll snap out of your surprise and start fighting him again, but for now everything feels right. And, truth be told, he does enjoy watching you struggle. Seeing those eyes flashing with anger at him. So small, but fierce despite knowing you can’t win. Despite knowing you belong to him.

• He doesn’t have a heartbeat, but there’s a steady thrum inside him that you can feel like a sweet, ache deep in your own bones where you’re pressed against him. The hand pressed to his chassis shifts, fingers sliding up toward the center of his chest. Seeking out that sensation pulling at you. And his free hand seizes your wrist before you can get close, his grip firm but surprisingly gentle. Still enough to snap you out of whatever that was. Your eyes dart up to his and you’re snared again in the red stare. He’s not angry, though. This expression you haven’t seen before, but it’s hungry and it sparks through you.

• He slides a servo against the palm of that soft hand, his hide still humming from the feel of your fingers gliding over him. Exploring. It’s too intimate. Doing things to his spark that are alarming and intoxicating. Like wonder what those little hands would feel like roaming all over him. If you’re that soft everywhere. You tug at your trapped wrist, face reddening as your eyes drop and he uses those servos tangled in your hair to force your head back. Hearing the startled noise that more surprise than actual discomfort as your lips part. Dangerous, obscene things run through his processor and the servos on your wrist tighten. Just a taste can’t hurt. Just a touch to put an end to this madness. This obsession.

• You can’t pull away with his hand fisted in your hair and panic and heat both trip through you. Wanting to get away. Needing more. His mouth claims yours, warm living, malleable metal moving against yours in a kiss. And your wrist is free as that other arm curls around you to keep you pinned to him. His glossa slides against the seam of your mouth, demanding you yield to him. Submit. It’s the feel of that big hand sliding down to cup your butt and press you more firmly to him, hips pinned to his that makes you gasp so he can take advantage. This isn’t a kiss, it’s a domination. A conquest. Especially as he rocks himself against you and you sink your fingers into the seams of his armor, arching into his warm frame.

Previous Next

[opiopal]

Small McxMammon things that I think about often because I love him

Something a little important is happening but in the background Mc is sitting criss cross on an office chair spinning, whenever the chair slow’s down and stops they pat mammons arm to get his attention and he spins the chair in the opposite direction. Mc is visibly having the time of their life.

Mammon waking up before Mc, staring at them for a while, then tucking hair behind their ear carefully which causes them to wake up, but then smile warmly at him and wrap their arms around his chest immediately,

Mc sitting with mammon, hugging onto him tightly after he had woken up from a nightmare of them dying[lesson 16ref :(]

Mc attempting to take the fall for Mammon after he does something but Mammon refuses to let them, so they get into a small argument while Lucifer progressively stands there getting more and more annoyed.

Mc trips when walking with mammon, he catches them by their arm and starts to tell them off for not being careful, but Mc looks him dead in the eyes and says “sorry, i can’t help but fall for you,” and then he shuts up for like thirty minutes just trying to process it,

Mc and Mammon are always clung onto each other, holding hands, linked arms, thighs pressed against each other when sitting, lowkey cuddling in and out of the bedroom, constantly turning to hug each other whenever they have to go their separate ways no matter if they won’t see each other for the next 5 seconds or 5 hours.

Mc is always going to pay for things whenever they’re out since they know Mammon probably doesn’t have any money on him, one day he refuses to let them pay and does it himself, from that day forward it’s a silent competition of who can pay before the other, they both just want to do something nice for the other.

Them showering together and mammon washes Mc’s hair while talking about stuff, Mc just stands there and allows him, lowkey enjoying how it feels.

Also them lowkey gossiping a little while showering, just it being very intimate without sex,

They rotate who’s room they sleep in, one day they’ll sleep in Mc’s room maybe because they’re both tired and don’t feel like walking upstairs to mammons room, but the next they’ll go and sleep in Mammons room because they don’t want anyone to barge in to try and drag Mc off to do something.

One word, clingy.

They are both so incredibly clingy, when Mc left for the human world for the first time, they both sat on calls at the end of the day for hours just talking, effectively ruining each others sleeping schedule. when Mammon is gone for a gig or a modeling thingy, Mc sleeps in his bed like a pathetic worm wishing he was home already,. Whenever the other comes back from being gone for a while, no matter if it was for a few minutes or a few hours, they rush to each other and hug as if they’ve been apart for years.

If one is seen without the other there’s genuinely just a “where’s the rest of you🤨” reaction from most people,

Mammon shows off Mc whenever he can, if he’s talking to someone and Mc is just silently standing next to him, and that person makes a comment about them being there, he’ll wrap an arm around their shoulder and be like, “yeah, this is my partner, I know, they’re amazing😎”

Mammon waking up in the middle of the night to Mc giggling and cackling while they play a game on their laptop, why are they laughing? Because they joined Levi’s FPS game and keep on sniping him and are laughing at him loosing his mind in the chat, which normally leads to mammon slowly closing their laptop and forcing them to lay back down, they giggle in his arms for about 10 minutes before finally falling asleep.

Mc definitely helps him to pay off some debts and figure out how to save more money, so over time his spending habits aren’t as impulsive and he isn’t getting punished as often for doing stupid stuff,(if Solmare won’t let him have canonic and permanent growth then dammit I’ll give him growth in my head😤)

Mammon has sold a necklace that was really important to Mc around the first few months of them staying there, Mc thought it went missing and was genuinely really bummed about it, to the point where he even saw them crying a little bit, so he fought tooth and nail to get it back form who he sold it from and put it back where he took it, he was very relieved to see them smiling the next day.

Mc has named a lot of his crows after learning that only a few of them are named because it’s hard to keep track, and to add onto it further, Mc has tied ribbons and bows around their little ankles to make sure their names aren’t forgotten.

They bite each other, not all the time but often, if he has their arm around Mc’s shoulder they’ll struggle and have a mental battle before leaning over and gently biting his forearm, if they’re cuddling sometimes Mammon will bite their shoulder, or if Mc is messing with Mammons hand they’ll bite one of his fingers, it’s not sexual biting, it’s practically just small “I love you’s”

One time Mc said “I’m kind of thirsty” and mammon immediately tripped over himself rushing to grab them a water or a soda,

I like to imagine Mc is a pure weirdo, like, pick up bugs and snakes weirdo, why? Because they were yanked from their home and whole life to go to forever school in hell and were like “ok I guess this is happening now” so because of that they often grab moths or anything that’s found it’s way into the HOL and tosses it outside. And I absolutely believe Mc has bent down to the ground while in public and grabbed a snake from a bush, turned to mammon, holds it up and is like “look at this cutie!!” While mammon is trying to not piss himself because holy shit they just picked up a snake and is talking about it like it’s a dog.

After the pact was formed with mammon, obviously it didn’t take long before he was head over heels for them, but I like to imagine that the pacts give the demon a sort of sixth sense when it comes to their human, so I can imagine Mc just trying to go back to class after using the rest room, being stopped by some demons straight up just harassing them, and all of a sudden mammon comes barreling down the hallway pissed and just punches one of them in the face, sure he gets an earful from Lucifer later, but he was just protecting his human like Lucifer asked! So what if he did so a little aggressively, it was a fight or flight situation!!

Whenever Mc and Mammon go out together, they always end up browsing small shops, whenever Mc see’s something they like, you can see their thought process of just. “Oh! This things cute! I mean, really cute, I could treat myself just this once, right? Ok, I’ll buy it just for me, how much- oh, never mind, I guess that’s fine,” and they set it back down, but then within that week mammon is giving them the same item they were going to get.

The first time mammon called Mc something cute like “treasure” Mc went into a blushy giggle fit and put their face against his chest to hide it, which was probably the first time he ever saw them properly flustered, which sparked a flame of “I need to see that more often”

Alright I’m gonna stop there, but I have so much more because he’s always on my mind💕 but I’m gonna stop cause I’m kind of tired of writing right now lol

[waitmyturtles]

Hey,

I'm not 100% sure how this works. Also this is more of an opinion than a question. I just feel the need to brain dump. You are under no obligation to reply. 😁

I fear that First and Khaotung are being wasted at/by GMMTV. They're both stellar actors and seem to have the sensibilities to tackle more serious material.

I feel like coming off Not Me, the themes in The Eclipse kinda went over my head. My fear was and still is that I didn't understand all the nuances. And that's why I felt like the show was lacking. Also I think the very first preview set it up as an entirely different show (more supernaturalmystery/thriller) in my head, so there was a disconnect there as well.

Their next project was Moonlight Chicken where both of them shined as actors but negligibly as a BL pairing. Having said that, they seem to be on very solid ground in the BL fandom - I am referring to their fan meets.

Only Friends was a masterclass of acting as far as FirstKhaotung were concerned (i was all about Ray and Sand), but I think the overall reputation as show that fell flat on its face overshadowed or at least took away (for me) from the gravity of FK.

And now we're here. With The Heart Killers and I am very wary of how Ota all going down. I see that the final trailer got over million views and I'm happy for them, but based on I think the absolute travesty that was OF, my expectations for this show are on the ground.

I really want more of an insight into how projects are picked up and distributed inside GMMTV (if you ha e any, I'm dying to know). I feel like they would benefit greatly from being on a show like PS I Hate You or something like Peaceful Property.

It feels like they're backsliding in terms of material given. Which I am sure is a) not their fault and b) me possibly being weird and dramatic in the wee hours of the morning. But I wanted to get it off my chest and I was reading your previous reviews when I felt, and then gave into the impulse to write to you.

Also I'm a MaxTul girly too and somehow, you made me want to give Make it Right another chance.

Have a great week ahead and keep up the absolutely exceptional work! ❤️

NIHILISTIC! It's great to hear from you! And thank you for the compliments!

TW for girlies out there who are not Nihilistic: this post will contain criticisms of The Heart Killers trailer. Read at your peril, delicate hearts!

I'll go backwards to save the biggest stuff for last. If you write anything about Make It Right, please tag me! @bengiyo and I always give a little DJ air horn to each other when we've nabbed another one into the broader cultural reconsideration of this AMAZING show. MaxTul, man. Nobody beats them! (Okay, almost, Tul admits he wasn't the strongest actor, but. We'll let it slide, dahling!) Chemistry, humor, pride representation, everything, they're great. I yelped when I saw them in Triage!

Okay, so you are a FirstKhao girlie, and you're worried about what The Heart Killers bodes. (Out of transparency, I have The Heart Killers tag filtered because of Only Friends PTSD. I'm gonna filter my own post!) For you, Nihilistic, I just watched the trailer for it.

I will get to all your questions about the GMMTV model in a moment.

Now, out of even MORE transparency, I am watching the MESS that is Kidnap right now, and listen, it's NOT GOOD. I'm fucking not even writing about it anymore, I'm just reblogging the sessy gifs. I am watching it to support Ohm Pawat, and am hoping that this partnership with Leng Thanaphon will hopefully lead to better scripts.... somewhere. (Or at least, better scripts for Ohm at a place like One31 or Channel 3. I also hope Ohm keeps up his anti-branded pair stance, but if GMMTV forces him to pair permanently with Leng, it won't be a fucking surprise, and more on that below.)

To focus specifically on THK for a sec: the THK trailer evoked a lot of what's gone utterly wrong in Kidnap for me. I think writing Thai BL/Series Y scripts to be different, fresh, and innovative, is just going to be really fucking hard, especially for stories featuring branded pairs that MUST end up together in the end. Because we, the viewers, KNOW that they MUST end up together in the end, what kind of mystery and conflict can a script convincingly evoke to keep us, the viewers, engaged and interested in the drama?

A few of us Ohm girlies were excited that Kidnap could have had non-romantic plot points (CRIME!!!) to drive concurrently with a romance plot. There are Series Y that have done this BEAUTIFULLY, particularly Sammon's stories of Manner of Death and Triage.

I'm sorry to say that I didn't get that from the THK trailer, and that THK smells a lot like Kidnap to me. The trailer itself is giving an indication that the "jobs" these guys have as double agents are going to be compromised due to them falling in love. And after the debacle that was Jojo Tichakorn's Only Friends -- a show premised on the exploration of mean, icky, really horny humans, a great place to start an interesting show! -- knowing that THK will HAVE to end up in a romantic place, with FK and JoongDunk being in memorable and memeable entwinements... that's a lot to ask of a show that already isn't making sense by drive, emotion, and tone in its trailer alone. What matters more to these characters? Their work, or their need to be in monogamous relationships? Seems like the latter to me by way of the trailer, which makes me wonder what the point of the plot is. (Joong's chest, probably.) (Gahddayum.)

(I haven't watched the latest episode of Jack & Joker, btw, but I understand that THIS WEEK's episode is ALSO going through something similar, with dead-end and uncommitted plot points all to get to a kiss. Oy.)

To summarize these points and to touch at your question about how GMMTV chooses scripts: GMMTV has an economic model to sell in giving happy endings to their branded pairs, which I wrote about at length in my Old GMMTV Challenge rewatch of The Eclipse. No matter where a script goes, the ending must be memorable and monogamous to satisfy the retweeting hunger of the branded pairs' fandoms, in order for GMMTV's artists to increase online engagement and to maintain earned media values to sell products.

The wonderful @flowerbeasblog noted to me recently that Tha Sataporn, the CEO of GMMTV, said in an interview that as the productions of Series Y in Thailand continues to increase, there is a greater need for more scriptwriting talent across this niche genre, creating competition for more excellent writing. (By comparison, in the States, when streaming services like Netflix and Hulu starting commissioning more original series just about a decade ago, the demand for scriptwriters and excellent writing also went up by incredible scale -- only to come crashing down recently with pandemic and strike-related losses in revenue.) GMMTV's recently announced script competition, Y Find, updated itself last week with a notice that the company would need more time to sift through scripts to judge. In other words: the demand for creative plots is so high at this company that they are literally fielding entries from the general public.

At the same time, Tha Sataporn has been blunt in indicating that "good shows" are not the priority of his GMMTV, and that talent, management, and engagement are his indicators of success. So, economically -- as long as a show hits that happy ending, and gets the girlies excited online with commentary and purchasing power, then the studio has won, in GMMTV's eyes.

ULTIMATELY, Nihilistic: what we are dealing with regarding your concern, as fans and/or critics of Series Y shows, is a conflict of values, among critical fans like ourselves, other fans who only watch shows for romance and shipping, and the economic bottom lines of the studios/agencies themselves. Some of us just want narratively good scripts, like Bad Buddy or He's Coming To Me. Others are content with having a show end with their fave pairs confirmed together in the end, no matter the process of how they got there. Those are different values we hold in watching shows. I appreciate that while you're a fan of the FK branded pair, that you want stronger scripts for them. I do, too, but that's not a value that every fan -- and GMMTV itself -- holds. And I believe that's why we've been seeing more and more mediocre scripts from that studio in particular.

I actually want to note maybe something positive about FirstKhao. Other than The Eclipse, it seems like they haven't been locked into high school or university settings. Only Friends, Moonlight Chicken -- these are shows that show First's and Khao's characters as young adults, and THK is going there, too. I hope they can avoid the university settings as they continue to work.

Is stellar acting wasted at GMMTV? Oh, yes. Besides First and Khao, who I truly think are good actors, we have Gun Atthaphan, Nanon Korapat, and Ohm Pawat -- these three guys are on my list of the best Thai actors out there who have done BL, and they haven't had great scripts in years. (Gun, arguably, has had the best pickings of decent shows recently in Cooking Crush and The Trainee, but they weren't high art; and Nanon's Dirty Laundry was the last Jojo script I was truly impressed by.) All three of these guys were in MOVIES at one point. Those ambitions, on behalf of these actors by GMMTV, seem to have gone by the wayside in preference for a huge economic push to boost branded pair-based series insteads, with their plot holes and guaranteed romances.

I hope the genre's tide turns for the sake of quality scripts, especially at GMMTV, but my hopes are low for this agency at the moment. My joy in Thai shows recently has been in watching past shows for my OGMMTVC. I've been on a lakorn kick lately, having watched The Miracle of Teddy Bear and I'm looking forward to watching Khun Chai soon. Other agencies and studios, like One31 and Channel 3, are breathing down GMMTV's neck and producing more interesting shows, sometimes with branded pairs and sometimes not. Triage only came out two years ago, and that show's trilogy (along with Manner of Death) will end with this year's airing of Spare Me Your Mercy, starring the very likely one-time pair of Tor Thanabob and JJ (Jaylerr) Krissanapoom, two gigantic artists in Thailand who are circling BACK towards the much smaller genre of Series Y for SMYM's sake. I have VERY high hopes and expectations for that show -- and that show is well out of the purview of GMMTV.

I think what you're smelling about the THK trailer is right, Nihilistic -- to me, the trailer isn't cohesive, and jumps already to its forgone conclusion of a romantic end. Unfortunately, for those of us familiar with Jojo Tichakorn's work, we know that if he was given more leeway, he'd likely come up with something more interesting. But now that he has to work with branded pairs -- who are shipped in the eyes of their fan beholders -- he's got a lot less room to be creative and interesting, which ultimately stifles the otherwise excellent acting we'd see from these young men.

[shiraishi-kanade]

An Shiraishi is always trying to be someone else: a short and messy analysis on how Vivid Street (unintentionally) messed her up

You know, I kind of have my own issues with the "Wishing to the Blue Sky for Your Happiness!" event, but a lot of my criticism of it boiled down to "huh, it's kind of weird how they gave An this insecurity out of nowhere, she didn't struggle with being herself before. Seems to be a reach just so Shizuku could have a role."

But that was before the Vivid Old Tale, and boy I'll admit I was very wrong.

The relationship between An and Nagi are... Very interesting, to say the least.

But there's no doubt that An absolutely idolizes Nagi. Sure, there's been this line about An always wanting to he a musical like her father, but we also know that for the most part, it was Nagi who taught her to sing, as well as Nagi who acted as An's mentor figure in a more emotional way.

In a way, An won the lottery. She was born into a family that loves her, into a community thay loves her, and just so happened to be talented and passionate about something that community values most. However, that talent has left her little to no space to actually... See herself as someone outside of it.

Now, none of this is actually necessarily negative by default. Having high expectations to one's children isn't necessarily bad either; with the right approach, it can make them grow and want to grow. We've also seen this happen with Touya in his childhood, which us another neat parallel.

But, unlike Touya, An has been very comfortable in her role, precisely because of her talent and being able to reach the very high bar raised for her. That comfort just... never made her reach out to something other than the place and the future she was already familiar with, because she never needed to. She was Ken's daughter and she was talented and everyone in town loved her and she promised to be the better than her dad and everyone took her seriously. What else could she possibly need?

In a way, An had her dole cut out to her before she was even born.

And then there's Nagi.

Yes, Nagi is An's role model. But there's more to that than just An looking up to her.

More than just being taught by her, An actually picks up Nagi's mannerisms, forms or speech, and even moral values (pretty much the entire point of Vivid Old Tale).

An saw, too, how much Nagi meant for the people of Vivid Street. She wanted to mean as much for them, too; rather, she already did mean as much, but she needed to be someone to justify being loved. It's not necessarily a conscious thought process but more of a subtle one: if you notice your community loves some traits of you more than the others, or values some aspects of you more, you start to lean more and more into them in order to fit in and be accepted.

For An, those particular traits were being talented, being Ken's daughter, but also... Being very similar to Nagi.

Them acting "like sisters" has been highlighted over

and over

and over again, even by people unfamiliar with Nagi, well into An's teenage years.

And it's not exactly... A complete coincidence on everyone's part. At one point, Nagi openly states she wants An to be like her, to be able to see things from the same perspective. At least to some extent, some of the actions Nagi takes to make that happen are completely deliberate.

So An tries to be like Nagi. This is both a conscious effort on her part and something that just... Is sort of a hidden force that shapes her into who she is. If you watch Nagi and compare even the way she talks with people of the town to the more mature, somewhat-grown up but not quite there yet An we have today... There's so many similarities it's uncanny. An is still much more hot-headed and impulsive, but that caring, considerate side of her shines through even more than before.

An doesn't try to deny or hide that, too. In fact, she's actually pretty proud of it.

(Whether Ken lied to her to make her feel better or if that expression was just a reaction to being reminded of Nagi passing away & the masquerade that followed after that, we'll never know.)

But here's the kicker: there's so much of Nagi in An it's hard to pinpoint where Nagi-san's traits end and An's own personality begins, if it even does. Because of how early has everyone decided on An's future, and because An never did anything to even hint at wanting to do something different (which she didn't! Sometimes people want to continue their family's legacy and that's completely normal and fine - again, she just got really lucky, both with her talent and supportive surroundings), An subconsciously kind of accepted that being like Nagi is... Just who she is.

That comes with taking on Nagi's part in the community, too. In the same way Nagi took care of everyone in town by helping them out at events, so too, does An - just to a much lesser extent, by going out of her way to keep in touch with everyone, going to events, and helping at a cafe, too.

But An doesn't purposely mold or change her personality to be like her role model, too. This is important: An doesn't wear a mask because she doesn't need to. In her mind, she already is like Nagi, or at least, she's on track to be, without doing particularly anything different. Because they're just so similar they're so close and practically behave like sisters, and because An grew up singing in the town exactly like Nagi did, and because she loves the town just like Nagi did - what else could An possibly need to do except get better at singing and get more grown up?

You know, to reach that mature and down-to-earth side of Nagi that we often see in the past?

That side?

Yeah.

Now the Shizuan event's conflict isn't so out of place, is it?

But anyway, back to the point.

Because of Nagi wording things the way she does and because of people on Vivid Street making such a point of their similarities, An naturally assumed she would eventually become like Nagi. This is why, even aside from Kohane's improvement, aside An's abandonment issues, Kick It Up a Notch is a giant slap to the face for An, as well as her wake-up call.

Kohane taking on Nagi's mantle before An was able to, or potentially ever could, isn't just about singing - it's an attempt at An's entire sense of self, just as well as her place in the world, and on the smaller sense, her hometown, too.

Because if An is not Nagi, she doesn't belong.

Because An never knew how to do anything but sing. Because becoming like her family, like Nagi, was the only option she ever imagined for herself ever since she was a child.

And if An is not Nagi, then who the hell is she?

[this post was very much inspired by @the-one-that-weeps 's An analysis post, who kind of put this much more eloquently than I could! Go check them out.

All translated lines that aren't taken from the wiki transcripts are by lozybug on YouTube!]

[guwix]

Is Jax in a Digital Circus because of the "father"?

The art was made according to my Theory, or to put it more simply, thoughts. This theory is not confirmed, but I just want to point out a couple of points below about the origin of this thoughts.

1) Jax didn't react well to the Digital Circus when he appeared in it. Therefore, I have 3 thoughts. First, he was forced to enter the digital world, second, or he turned out to have someone from his neighbors. The third is simple, an accident, like the others.

https://www.tumblr.com/gooseworx/733036960374013952/i-wonder-how-jax-reacted-when-he-appeared-for-the?source=share

2) According to Gooseworx, Jax described the song (Michael Wyckoff, Kalya Ramu & Nathan Ford - Don't Fence Me In "Bonelab OST"). The lyrics of the song:

________

I want to ride to the ridge where the west commences

And gaze at the moon 'til I lose my senses

And I can't look at hobbles and I can't stand fences

Don't fence me in

No

Poppa, don't you fence me in

________

https://www.tumblr.com/gooseworx/724963060172881920/if-you-were-to-describe-jax-as-a-song-what-song

3) In fact, Caine is as crazy as Jax. Which makes them very similar.

https://www.tumblr.com/gooseworx/748356006599393280/why-does-caine-keep-teleporting-everyone-in-random?source=share

4) Gooseworx's response: Jax and Caine are modelled after my own character flaws.

https://www.tumblr.com/gooseworx/732138901035253760/what-character-from-tadc-do-you-relate-to-the?source=share

5) Caine doesn't like it when someone uses "swear words". And it is known that the only ones who do not produce them are Jax and Gangle.

https://www.tumblr.com/gooseworx/745615556801167360/please-tell-me-every-character-will-curse-multiple?source=share

6) Even though Jax is an "impulsive jerk," he won't hit Caine.

https://www.tumblr.com/gooseworx/748357128936472576/if-someone-had-the-chance-to-just-straight-up?source=share

7) There have been theories that Caine is "maybe" human, so feeling "lonely" for AI is a bit strange.

https://www.tumblr.com/gooseworx/738007673867534336/can-caine-feel-loneliness?source=share

8) In episode 2, "Caine was called God." I assume that the person did not appoint the main AI, or if Caine rebelled against people having the authority of an "administrator", then it would be problematic...

9) As we know, Jax has interesting passions for us: He takes objects out of nowhere, steals keys, breaks 4 walls for the audience, in the Pilot he, like Pomni, interacted more often with Caine, detachment, in the Glitch store pin Jax, they do not want to tell his room to the end.

None of the points particularly supports my theory, at the moment it's just one of my thoughts.

[contemplatingoutlander]

Finally, The New York Times Editorial Board says Trump is unfit to hold the Office of the President of the United States!

This is a "gift🎁link" so you can read the entire, HISTORIC editorial by The New York Times Editorial Board stating in no uncertain terms that Donald Trump is unfit for office.

Below are some excerpts from the five subsections of the editorial: I Moral Fitness, II. Principled Leadership, III. Character, IV. A President's Words, and V. Rule of Law

I. MORAL FITNESS MATTERS

Presidents are confronted daily with challenges that require not just strength and conviction but also honesty, humility, selflessness, fortitude and the perspective that comes from sound moral judgment. If Mr. Trump has these qualities, Americans have never seen them in action on behalf of the nation’s interests. His words and actions demonstrate a disregard for basic right and wrong and a clear lack of moral fitness for the responsibilities of the presidency.

He lies blatantly and maliciously, embraces racists, abuses women and has a schoolyard bully’s instinct to target society’s most vulnerable. He has delighted in coarsening and polarizing the town square with ever more divisive and incendiary language. Mr. Trump is a man who craves validation and vindication, so much that he would prefer a hostile leader’s lies to his own intelligence agencies’ truths and would shake down a vulnerable ally for short-term political advantage. His handling of everything from routine affairs to major crises was undermined by his blundering combination of impulsiveness, insecurity and unstudied certainty. [...] The Supreme Court, with its ruling on July 1 granting presidents “absolute immunity” for official acts, has removed an obstacle to Mr. Trump’s worst impulses: the threat of legal consequences. What remains is his own sense of right and wrong. Our country’s future is too precious to rely on such a broken moral compass. [color emphasis added]

Below the cut are excerpts from the other four subsections.

II. PRINCIPLED LEADERSHIP MATTERS

Republican presidents and presidential candidates have used their leadership at critical moments to set a tone for society to live up to. Mr. Reagan faced down totalitarianism in the 1980s.... George H.W. Bush signed the Americans With Disabilities Act.... George W. Bush, for all his failures after Sept. 11, did not stoke hate against or demonize Muslims or Islam.

As a candidate during the 2008 race, Mr. McCain spoke out when his fellow conservatives spread lies about his opponent, Barack Obama. Mr. Romney was willing to sacrifice his standing and influence in the party he once represented as a presidential nominee, by boldly calling out Mr. Trump’s failings and voting for his removal from office. These acts of leadership are what it means to put country first, to think beyond oneself. Mr. Trump has demonstrated contempt for these American ideals. He admires autocrats, from Viktor Orban to Vladimir Putin to Kim Jong-un. He believes in the strongman model of power — a leader who makes things happen by demanding it, compelling agreement through force of will or personality. In reality, a strongman rules through fear and the unprincipled use of political might for self-serving ends, imposing poorly conceived policies that smother innovation, entrepreneurship, ideas and hope. During his four years in office, Mr. Trump tried to govern the United States as a strongman would, issuing orders or making decrees on Twitter. He announced sudden changes in policy — on who can serve in the military, on trade policy, on how the United States deals with North Korea or Russia — without consulting experts on his staff about how these changes would affect America. Indeed, nowhere did he put his political or personal interests above the national interest more tragically than during the pandemic, when he faked his way through a crisis by touting conspiracy theories and pseudoscience while ignoring the advice of his own experts and resisting basic safety measures that would have saved lives. [...] A second Trump administration would be different. He intends to fill his administration with sycophants, those who have shown themselves willing to obey Mr. Trump’s demands or those who lack the strength to stand up to him. He wants to remove those who would be obstacles to his agenda, by enacting an order to make it easier to fire civil servants and replace them with those more loyal to him. This means not only that Americans would lose the benefit of their expertise but also that America would be governed in a climate of fear, in which government employees must serve the interests of the president rather than the public.... Another term under Mr. Trump’s leadership would risk doing permanent damage to our government. [color/ emphasis added]

III. CHARACTER MATTERS

Character is the quality that gives a leader credibility, authority and influence. During the 2016 campaign, Mr. Trump’s petty attacks on his opponents and their families led many Republicans to conclude that he lacked such character. Other Republicans, including those who supported the former president’s policies in office, say they can no longer in good conscience back him for the presidency. “It’s a job that requires the kind of character he just doesn’t have,” Paul Ryan, a former Republican House speaker, said of Mr. Trump in May.

Those who know Mr. Trump’s character best — the people he appointed to serve in the most important positions of his White House — have expressed grave doubts about his fitness for office.His former chief of staff John Kelly, a retired four-star Marine Corps general, described Mr. Trump as “a person who admires autocrats and murderous dictators. A person that has nothing but contempt for our democratic institutions, our Constitution and the rule of law.” Bill Barr, whom Mr. Trump appointed as attorney general, said of him, “He will always put his own interest and gratifying his own ego ahead of everything else, including the country’s interest.” James Mattis, a retired four-star Marine general who served as defense secretary, said, “Donald Trump is the first president in my lifetime who does not try to unite the American people — does not even pretend to try.” Mike Pence, Mr. Trump’s vice president, has disavowed him. No other vice president in modern American history has done this. “I believe that anyone who puts themselves over the Constitution should never be president of the United States,” Mr. Pence has said. “And anyone who asked someone else to put them over the Constitution should never be president of the United States again.” [...] It may be tempting for Americans to believe that a second Trump presidency would be much like the first, with the rest of government steeled to protect the country and resist his worst impulses. But the strongman needs others to be weak, and Mr. Trump is surrounding himself with yes men. The American public has a right to demand more from their president and those who would serve under him. [color/ emphasis added]

IV. A PRESIDENT’S WORDS MATTER

When America saw white nationalists and neo-Nazis march through the streets of Charlottesville, Va., in 2017 and activists were rallying against racism, Mr. Trump spoke of “very fine people on both sides.” When he was pressed about the white supremacist Proud Boys during a 2020 debate, Mr. Trump told them to “stand back and stand by,” a request that, records show, they took literally in deciding to storm Congress. This winter, the former president urged Iowans to vote for him and score a victory over their fellow Americans — “all of the liars, cheaters, thugs, perverts, frauds, crooks, freaks, creeps.” And in a Veterans Day speech in New Hampshire, he used the word “vermin,” a term he has deployed to describe both immigrants and political opponents.

What a president says reflects on the United States and the kind of society we aspire to be. In 2022 this board raised an urgent alarm about the rising threat of political violence in the United States and what Americans could do to stop it. At the time... the Republican Party was in the middle of a fight for control, between Trumpists and those who were ready to move on from his destructive leadership. This struggle within the party has consequences for all Americans. “A healthy democracy requires both political parties to be fully committed to the rule of law and not to entertain or even tacitly encourage violence or violent speech,” we wrote. A large faction of one party in our country fails that test, and that faction, Mr. Trump’s MAGA extremists, now control the party and its levers of power. There are many reasons his conquest of the Republican Party is bad for American democracy, but one of the most significant is that those extremists have often embraced violent speech or the belief in using violence to achieve their political goals. This belief led to the Jan. 6 attack on the Capitol, and it has resulted in a rising number of threats against judges, elected officials and prosecutors. This threat cannot be separated from Mr. Trump’s use of language to encourage violence, to dehumanize groups of people and to spread lies. A study by researchers at the University of California, Davis, released in October 2022, came to the conclusion that MAGA Republicans (as opposed to those who identified themselves as traditional Republicans) “are more likely to hold extreme and racist beliefs, to endorse political violence, to see such violence as likely to occur and to predict that they will be armed under circumstances in which they consider political violence to be justified.” The Republican Party had an opportunity to renounce Trumpism; it has submitted to it. Republican leaders have had many opportunities to repudiate his violent discourse and make clear that it should have no place in political life; they failed to. [...] But with his nomination by his party all but assured, Mr. Trump has become even more reckless in employing extreme and violent speech, such as his references to executing generals who raise questions about his actions. He has argued, before the Supreme Court, that he should have the right to assassinate a political rival and face no consequences. [color/ emphasis added]

V. THE RULE OF LAW MATTERS

The danger from these foundational failings — of morals and character, of principled leadership and rhetorical excess — is never clearer than in Mr. Trump’s disregard for rule of law, his willingness to do long-term damage to the integrity of America’s systems for short-term personal gain. As we’ve noted, Mr. Trump’s disregard for democracy was most evident in his attempts to overturn the results of the 2020 election and to encourage violence to stop the peaceful transfer of power. What stood in his way were the many patriotic Americans, at every level of government, who rejected his efforts to bully them into complying with his demands to change election results. Instead, they followed the rules and followed the law. This respect for the rule of law, not the rule of men, is what has allowed American democracy to survive for more than 200 years.

In the four years since losing the election, Mr. Trump has become only more determined to subvert the rule of law, because his whole theory of Trumpism boils down to doing whatever he wants without consequence. Americans are seeing this unfold as Mr. Trump attempts to fight off numerous criminal charges. Not content to work within the law to defend himself, he is instead turning to sympathetic judges — including two Supreme Court justices with apparent conflicts over the 2020 election and Jan. 6-related litigation. The playbook: delay federal prosecution until he can win election and end those legal cases. His vision of government is one that does what he wants, rather than a government that operates according to the rule of law as prescribed by the Constitution, the courts and Congress. [...] So much in the past two decades has tested these norms in our society.... We need a recommitment to the rule of law and the values of fair play. This election is a moment for Americans to decide whether we will keep striving for those ideals. Mr. Trump rejects them. If he is re-elected, America will face a new and precarious future, one that it may not be prepared for. It is a future in which intelligence agencies would be judged not according to whether they preserved national security but by whether they served Mr. Trump’s political agenda. It means that prosecutors and law enforcement officials would be judged not according to whether they follow the law to keep Americans safe but by whether they obey his demands to “go after” political enemies. It means that public servants would be judged not according to their dedication or skill but by whether they show sufficient loyalty to him and his MAGA agenda. Even if Mr. Trump’s vague policy agenda would not be fulfilled, he could rule by fear. The lesson of other countries shows that when a bureaucracy is politicized or pressured, the best public servants will run for the exits. This is what has already happened in Mr. Trump’s Republican Party, with principled leaders and officials retiring, quitting or facing ouster. In a second term, he intends to do that to the whole of government. [color/ emphasis added]

[cogentranting]

In The Marvels there's a vulnerability to Carol that we don't really get in her earlier appearances. There's a few glimpses of it in Captain Marvel, but not much, and it's certainly not visible in Endgame (not as a fault of that movie, she's just not very close to the center of that movie). But I find the exploration of that in this movie really appealing.

You have this woman who is incredibly capable, incredibly powerful, and generally very self-sufficient. And you see the way that over the years that's worn her down. She's the mighty Captain Marvel-- one of the most powerful people in the galaxy. And she's absorbed that view of herself, that that is who she needs to be all the time. She needs to carry it all, to fix it all.

As Captain Marvel that's meant that she works alone and she's always off to fix a new problem. More importantly, it led to her nearly disastrous decision to destroy the Supreme Intelligence, and from there to an inability to directly confront that failure (tactically or emotionally) or to accept help in fixing it.

As Carol, it's cut her off from anyone else except a few carefully distanced professional friendships-- she is friends with Fury, and Valkyrie, and Yan, but there's also a coolness there, and with all we're given the impression that she keeps them at arm's length and only comes around when necessary. And again its created an even bigger problem-- she stayed away from Maria until Maria was dying, and never came back to Monica at all.

It's never directly connected for us in the movie, but there's a pretty clear connection here back to the first movie. That careful distance wasn't present with Yon-Rogg. With him she was playful, open, she'd come to his room in the middle of the night. She trusted him. And she was utterly betrayed. He used her, trapped her, manipulated her, stole her life and her memories, tried to kill her. And back then, she only regained her identity when she broke free from him. That experience has made her wary.

But she's also just off-balance. Her memories were taken and she still hasn't fully gotten them back, so she's unsteady in those old relationships. And she's indestructible and powerful but it does her no good in dealing with actual relationships. She meets a problem that she can't punch or blast, and her flight instinct kicks in.

So when The Marvels starts out, those years of being alone and trying to be Atlas carrying the world on her back, have left her shaky. She's scared to talk to Monica. When she does come face to face with Monica, and Monica initially rejects her, Carol visibly shrinks. In dealing with Dar Benn, she's running scared--not scared of Dar Benn, but scared of failing again or messing things up more, and it makes her impulsive, and causes her to push away Monica and Kamala. And it's all a vulnerability that she covers up with cockiness and bravado. She doesn't show people that vulnerability. Instead she shows them the invincible Captain Marvel who can fly into suns and move planets.

And this movie uses the power-switching to handcuff her to two other people to force her out of that destructive pattern of total self-reliance and running from being close to anyone. It physically will not let her run away from Monica and Kamala, and it turns her attempts to do things by herself against her.

Kamala is there to model for Carol a sort of emotional openness that she hasn't known in a long time (if ever). Her heart is all the way out on her sleeve and Carol needs to see that. When Monica discusses her mom's death, Kamala literally shows Carol what to do on the simplest level by hugging Monica and forcing Carol into that hug. And it matters that Kamala is a child doing this, because that simplicity is key. Carol doesn't need to FIX the situation, and Kamala isn't burdened by that mindset. Kamala can approach with this childlike openness and simplicity, not overcomplicating it by trying to find the perfect thing to say or do, and it turns out that's all Carol needs to do too. And so simple hugs become incredibly powerful in this movie because it's just about being willing to be there with some and to hold them, and in the end Carol gives that back to Kamala when they hug after losing Monica.

And for her part, Monica models to Carol that you can be strong and part of a team. Monica has grown up and become a captain and become a superhero. She's incredibly capable. And also very very comfortable working as part of a team. So despite her tension with Carol, she's able to bring that easy team dynamic to the group and get Carol to embrace the team instead of being hampered by it.

Once Carol is able be at ease with being vulnerable, once she can open herself up to others, once she can share her burdens, that's when she finally is able to come home to Earth after nearly 40 years.

[semischarmed]

Danny

Always have to keep you guys guessing ;) so this one is veeeeery different from my normal content, but I figured I’d put something tamer to balance out the upcoming Pt. 2 to that Thread story. It’s a bit long, but I didn’t feel like keeping two concurrent multi-parters. Let me know what you think!

=============

“So, it’s the necklace?” I asked the professor at the university. It was a wonder I was able to keep up with even half of the lecture that had just transpired. 

“Something like that.” The professor replied back to our small group. “We’re all just a sea of electrical impulses. With this computer model, we can accurately track and mimic the exact electrical shocks needed to replicate a mind. Of course, the mind is so much data, the transfer-the upload needs to be instantaneous with an equivalent download- the university doesn’t give us enough grant money for computers that can store that much data, much less secure it. So, we needed biological means of storage. That’s why there’s an even number of participants”.

The room was utterly confused. For one, there was definitely an odd number of participants. Dr. Cohn was never known for dumbing down complex concepts, but even the smartest kids in class seemed stumped the past few hours. Maybe he didn’t have to go in that level of depth for his experiment.

Our group was a mix. It seemed like a sampling of the very best of the class, and a few average performers. I did find it weird they offered extra credit to students that probably didn’t need it. Sticking out like a sore thumb was Chad. He was the school quarterback, though no one was sure for much longer, as he was on academic probation. I couldn’t help but speculate with Kat, a top performer, on his placement. Combining our limited knowledge on the students in our class, and the school’s football team, we landed on this being some sort of extra credit that the university probably forced on poor Dr. Cohn. Ever the nosy one, Mackenzie piped in. “Of course they’d try to save their star quarterback. I heard 3 professors already quit trying to bring up his GPA. This is basically his last shot“.  

And then there was Danny. Part of that “very best” group. Unlike the other students in the room, he seemed to take in the professor’s whole lecture and was deep in thought. His face lay still, serene. But I could see the intelligence behind his eyes spinning to life. I always liked when he did that, like he was chewing on an idea before spitting out the most brilliant insights. Or maybe I just like how the corner of his mouth would turn up into a small smile when he finished thinking things through. I caught myself staring again, thanking my luck that no one had seen. Mackenzie laughed a little behind me. I sighed, laughing a small defeat. Almost no one had seen. 

“So it basically swaps our brains?” Danny inquired. He looked around the room, gauging our comprehension. That was when it clicked for me. He took note and let out a small smile. I smiled back. That was the other thing I liked about the guy. He always seemed to want everyone to succeed. This wasn’t the first time he’d thoroughly condense a difficult topic into a quick word or phrase the class could understand. His eyes smiled whenever he could recognize concepts “clicking” for people and I saw it do the same as my other classmates- even Chad- figured it out. I recoiled a little, from a nudge from Mackenzie. I sighed again, airing a “thank you” her way. I had been staring again.

“No, nothing like that! Could you imagine how difficult an operation like that would be? All this does is swap your mind.” Aaaand just like that, we were back to confusion. Danny smiled though.

“Got it. So your brain’s the hardware, your mind’s the software. The necklaces do a switcheroo and then new hardware, same software- or, vice versa, I suppose.” Back on track.

“Wait, how much of ‘me’ is in the hardware? Like my memories?” I blurted out, immediately growing red. That seemed to have garnered an approving smile from Danny. I grew redder.

The professor’s eyes lit up. “Now you’re thinking like a scientist.” He laughed before shrugging. “Who’s to say… we are running an experiment after all”. Dr. Cohn always was a messy one.

“So, uh, how long is it supposed to last?” Mackenzie asked.

“That’s the fun of it, once we’re paired, the switch can go for as little or as long you as want!” We. That threw me off a little. I caught his glance to Chad. “Don’t worry, I’ll be a part of this experiment too.” The professor said, with a smile that felt too wide. “Don’t forget to record your notes and thoughts into this log book. For privacy, they’ve been password protected- we’ll reconvene this little group in a year and just draft up a summary of your experiences from these books.”

There was an obvious question everyone’s mind. Thankfully, Kevin asked it. “So who’s swapping with who?”

The professor’s eyes lit up in excitement. “We’ve all been paired, randomized of course. I’ll leave the pairings to figure out when they’d want to swap. Just put on your necklaces at 6pm tonight and start your log books. After that, whenever either of you squeezes your necklace, the swap will ensue”. From the way the professor’s eyes kept darting to Chad, something told me it hadn’t been entirely random.

I thought through the possible pairings. Kevin was kind of cute, I guess. Though I wasn’t sure if it was just the airport effect with how limited our group size was. Kat or Mackenzie would just be weird. Mackenzie especially- that girl knows a little too much about me and lord knows what she’d do behind my wheel. Running down the list of people, there was Chad. Of course, who wouldn’t want to be in Chad’s shoes- I had to dispel a dirty thought that passed my mind. Everyone’s probably thinking it. The professor’s body wouldn’t be too bad either, I could always just pressure the faculty into giving me better grades, maybe boost the grades of my friends. And then there was Danny. Danny. My heartrate shot up instantly.

Sitting in my dorm room, I looked at the clock with a bit of fear. “5:55 pm,” it read. I took a few deep breaths, trying to calm my nerves. “5:59 pm”. Nope. There was nothing calm about this. I closed my eyes shut, as I felt the necklace whir a little. Looks like someone else already squeezed it. 

Zzzip

=============

“Log book 1: 

<3

It was Danny. Holy fuck, I got to be in Danny.”

I stared at the journal entry. That was all I could manage to write with my shaking hands. I could hardly believe it. A lifetime can change in 5 minutes, apparently. My heart was still beating and my face still flushed when we switched back. He had a soccer game so our first meeting had to be short. 

 My first minute was just looking down at my new Danny-worn hands, breathing through his lungs, inhaling as much as I could of his room. I wanted to commit this man to memory. My logic-or, Danny’s logic perhaps, told me there would inevitably be more swaps to come, but my mind wouldn’t have it. Whatever piece of Danny I could get, however minuscule, I wanted to stretch every moment infinite.

I felt a sense of guilt wash over me, as my new Danny-worn package began to harden when I realized he was in soccer gear. I tried to shake off the feeling- I couldn’t do that to him. Then came the text. I recognized the number of course, it was my old body’s. “Hey man, glad to see we’re partners”. My heart stirred. “It’s Danny, but you probably already knew that”. To see him text me so casually froze me in place. “Anyways, I do have a game coming up, mind if we switch back?” I couldn’t even bring Danny’s hands to answer himself. “I’ll take that as a yes”.

Zzzip

And just like that, I was back. My hand clinging to my chest, breaths ragged. 

Wait, Fuck. Was I still hard in his body when we switched back?

=============

Zzzip

“Log book 7:

Met up today. Joint gym day. 

Gym feels better in Danny’s body. Unsure if exercise has a different effect on people’s bodies, or if it’s tied to our minds. Seems to be a lag in my emotions.”

I’m not really one to be consistent with exercise. I set the book down, and relocked it, panting as I had in our first switch, but this time due to Danny working my body to the brink.

I think he noticed, because he apologized profusely when I slumped in the bench to catch my breath in the locker room.

I can’t believe I had agreed to it. Danny wanted to test the effects of exercise with different bodies. He stated he wanted to see what it was like doing routine exercises in a different body. Does the body retain that physical memory? Or is it the mind? I only agreed because it was Danny. So, there I was, in the school gym staring at the door like a fish out of water. 

I felt a reassuring hand on my back before my ears immediately shot red when I realized whose hand it was. “Do you have your log book on hand? Should probably write down notes immediately after the switchback”. I immediately panicked at thought that he wanted to compare notes, thinking back to my first entry but he seemed to have caught on to my thought process and immediately dismissed the idea. “It wouldn’t make sense to taint the data with outside factors. Danny was probably the only person that fully understood the professor’s entire experiment so I took his word for it.

When we swapped, I had to focus on not instantly growing hard. For someone seemingly so bookish, the guy was surprisingly fit. Walking to the treadmill, I felt every muscle brimming with power. My first run in his body. Euphoric. Danny was a well-oiled machine. Every component moving in tandem. Lungs drawing in and out powerful gusts of air. Eyes staring me in the mirror, furrowed in powerful determination, and legs gliding with a grace that did not diminish the power behind each foot. I lost myself in the exercise, content to just being inside his body, guided by his body. I finished the run with a heavy pant, knowing full well I’d be hard beyond belief at what lay before me. I eyed myself in the mirror, in sweat-laden body of my crush. The scent was indescribable. Like a pleasant musk basking in the damp earth. Was it always this good? Was this how other people felt when they exercised? I twirled the necklace around Danny’s neck, making sure to not squeeze, mentally thanking whatever gods there may be for this experience.

I looked back at Danny, in my body. His running form was a bit clumsy, but there was a confidence in them that I didn’t often see in myself. Maybe a trick of the light, or residual feelings from the run I just had but I was captivated. I honestly looked almost cute like this. 

He finished, panting before immediately pulling out his book and writing a few notes. He beamed back at me, pointing at the necklace. Even in my body, that smile was unmistakably his. I smiled back, ready to swap once more.

Zzzip

Weird. I still felt the infatuation. I looked back at the body I had just inhabited, still feeling the butterflies in my stomach. It was Danny so I was used to those, but not immediately after a swap. The past few times it always took a second or two to readjust. Danny looked at me, a bit uncomfortable. No doubt it had been from the grave face I was making. I shook my head, not wanting to worry him. Or worse, force a premature end to this experience. “It’s nothing, just a hell of an exercise haha”.

This may be a bit of a problem.

=============

“Interesting, and you’re sure it’s residual feeling?” Said a slightly disinterested Chad, eyeing his dreamy biceps.

“Yes, when I.. uh.. felt angry in his body and switched back, my body did too.”  

“Well it is a swap, of course so your mind returning to its body would feel the same things it felt…” The professor in chad’s body spoke in a slightly faraway tone, like there was something he’d rather be doing. “Though, it shouldn’t be this instant. It’s not physically possible unless…”

I winced, worried for the worst and hoping to remain Danny’s partner.

“This might be a bit of an issue if those necklaces are defective…” He then mumbled something about permanent effects on the mind. “If they are, we’d have to stop the entire experiment. It wouldn’t be right-“ The professor caught a glimpse of Chad’s body in the reflection of his door before looking back at me. “Look, maybe just limit the swaps to low pressure situations, and try to avoid high-emotion situations in case your ‘residual’ hypothesis is correct. Cause if that were true, it would mean you leave a little of yourself every time you swap.”

“Got it, professor”.

“Maybe keep this side effect a little secret for now. We wouldn’t want the others worrying and tainting the data,” Chad’s body spoke in an authoritative tone as his hands sauntered below the desk. “Oh, and please close the door on your way out“.

=============

“Log book 50:

Pain.” 

We had been swapping fairly frequently, despite the professor’s warning. Danny was a drug I couldn’t shake. The guy was my kryptonite and he had no idea. Everytime we swapped, every moment we shared, I couldn’t bring myself to tell him about the professor’s words. Every swap back, I could feel my heart beating as wildly as my first time, stomach churning pleasantly. It was like a wave of sweetness whenever I had a chance to be Danny. Then, the guilt came soon after.

Danny seemed to like the spontaneity. Eventually, we settled on free-switching, aside from classes. Some days, I’d randomly switch and my eyes would focus on my homework, completed with a little smiley face drawn on the corner. I tried that little trick with him once, only to get a text back of his graded assignment, scored uncharacteristically low for the top performer, followed by another text “Nice try anyway lol” 

=============

“Log book 190:

I hate you.”

Zzzip

“Danny, is something wrong?” The shock of the situation stopped me from initially processing anything I was seeing. My clumsy hands. I had been fumbling with my collar, when I accidentally initiated a swap. A wave of embarrassment hit, and then anger. Seething, bottomless anger.

I almost dropped the flowers Danny’s body had been handing her. Without explanation, I quickly squeezed the necklace to send me back.

Zzzip

I sat in stunned silence for a second, before the anger drew me back to my thoughts.

Who was I angry at? Of course it was a girl. He had to have been dating around. It was presumptuous to even think we were anything more than partners in a crazed professor’s experiment. And yet, I was still angry. Irrationally angry at Danny for not picking up on the hints, maybe angry at the professor for dragging me into this mess in the first place. But most of all, I was angry at myself. 

I felt the buzz of a text, ears still heated. Danny again. “You ok?”  

I sighed as reasoning took over and anger transformed into sadness. I wrote a quick note in the log book, then pulled my phone up before texting back. “Yeah”.

“Lol Claudia says hi”, came a text back. I gritted my teeth, not wanting to impart any jealousy in my response, but I was soon stopped by another text. 

“If you wanted to meet my sister, you should have just asked lol”.

=============

“Log book 290

I’m stupid. I’m sorry. I’m stupid. I’m sorry.”

I’m so sorry. I said to Danny in my head, as I slumped in my chair. You’re so fucking stupid. I told myself. These past few months swapping back and forth with Danny had been a dream. 

From something as simple swapping before brushing his teeth to even taking a class as him. I savored every single moment. 

But as the experiment had been drawing to a close, and as I felt my time nearing and my guilt intensifying, other, less kind thoughts bubbled in my head. 

What if I did ‘that’ in his body. What if I did it while thinking of my own body. I gulped. Danny didn’t know, and from what I could tell, he hadn’t suspected a thing. “Maybe I could make him like me.” Even just saying it out loud felt like a taboo. I could just imagine Danny’s disapproving face as I pondered corrupting our newfound friendship, and corrupting him at his core.

The devil on my shoulder continued. We’ve been swapping all this time. And he doesn’t notice. My dick stirred. He wouldn’t notice and you could train his body to fall in love with you.

No. No. I couldn’t do that to Danny. I eyed the near approaching date on the calendar- the date the experiment would end- and I gulped again. I pulled up a photo of him.

Darkness gripped at my chest, as I pondered my next step. And then I squeezed.

“Danny, I love you and I’m sorry.”

Zzzip

My heart, or rather Danny’s, began to beat faster and faster. I pulled up a fairly difficult puzzle before I swapped, so I knew I had some time with his flesh before he’d try to swap back.

I gingerly pulled down his shorts, staring at his bulge hungrily. Then I slowly teased out his dick, moaning at the feeling of flesh touching flesh. Being in his body, having this level of access to Danny. I was hard instantly.

It felt almost macabre, seeing his flesh move to my every whim, forced to feel my feelings. I wanted to etch myself into him as much as possible, and with every pump I moaned my original body’s name. It took all of the restraint in Danny’s body, which, apparently was a lot, to not burst. But one can only hold out so long, hearing one’s crush moan their name in delirious ecstasy. I sang my name in his resonant voice one more time, before flashing instantly to my body and back to his.

Zzzip Zzzip

I released his sticky white seed in what felt like the first cum of my life. I suppose, in a sense, it was. I hoped that sealed it. Conditioning Danny to me. The swaps were imperceptibly fast, and I took the lack of delay in emotions as a sign of success.

Zzzip Zzzip

I released a breath in Danny’s body I didn’t know I was holding, basking in the afterglow before immediately realizing what I had just done. 

Guilt came out of me drop by drop. As his tears began to leave their marks on his shirt, I slowly began to clean up. The pleasure of the situation still clung to me, as I mournfully switched back. Then came another gut-wrenching wave of sadness. Danny, I’m so sorry. 

I looked to the incomplete puzzle in front of me, laughing a little at his lack of progress to ease the sadness.

Then came another text from Danny. “Dude, that puzzle’s impossible”. 

=============

“Log book 300:

Food definitely tastes different in a different body.”

“Look, just try them man” Danny said with a smile, holding a fry in his hand. And the necklace in another. 

Only a few short days left before the experiment’s end. I made no mention of that night, nor the professor’s words to Danny. 

Danny had, in fact, been coming by more often. Prompting more hangouts, initiating more switches. I was elated every time he asked. I even caught a few longer glances from his body, marinating in pleasure at seeing this new side of Danny. However happy I had been, underlying it all was the guilt of my deed.

Danny again held the fry out expectantly. I laughed slightly. “Haha, fine”.

Zzzip

I took a bite from his body. Yep, it was definitely a fry. My own body looked up at me, smiling a Danny-flavored smile before grabbing the half-bitten fry. “Now let’s control for this variable. Same fry,” he said, wiggling it in the air.

Zzzip

I stared at the fry covered in a bit of his saliva. Heaven. I looked back at him and nodded. As we parted ways, I couldn’t help my smile from peeking through. 

He was right, it did taste better on my end.

=============

“So, we’re not getting paid”? I asked Danny, as we sat in the table. He had a few wine glasses in front. 

It had been a full year since the experiment first started. Despite the general weirdness from the other groups swapping, everyone had been relatively well adjusted. Except for Chad, or whatever he’d be called now. A swapped Kat couldn’t help but spill the beans. Apparently, the professor had no obligation to offer the guy extra credit. He specifically targeted the quarterback for his experiment. What’s worse, he’d apparently created a newer version of the necklace. One that could overwrite and transmit. Chad’s frat brothers mentioned he was offered another credit for participating in a second experiment for this new necklace. After that, no one had seen either person. The pair had mysteriously disappeared, leaving the school scrambling to cover up everything. All most of us knew was one day we suddenly had perfect grades retroactively added for the past year, along with a very scary letter prompting a signature. 

“The university isn’t going to do anything about this.” He said. I was still skeptical as I slowly eyed one of the wine bottles that once graced former Dr. Cohn’s shelf. “It’s the least they could do for all those, ethics violations”. He pulled the cork with a satisfying pop, a mischievous gleam in his eye as he handed me a glass. “Now c’mon, try this”. 

I suppose alcohol had a way of loosening me up. “So…. we’re not getting paid”? I asked again, sarcastically this time. It had been a year, so talking to Danny felt easy. I thought back to my log book, fully intending on burning the thing. Danny shook his head.

“Hard to put a price on crimes against humanity. Or, something like that” he laughed. “The university just said to dump everything and basically forget that experiment ever happened.”

I couldn’t help but laugh as well. I shrugged, knowing money or even perfect grades for a year held no candle to the experience of a lifetime I just had with Danny. I was afraid of the answer, but it had to be asked. “What should we do with these things?” I asked, looking at the necklace still gracing his beautiful neck. His eyebrows raised as he saw the same necklace gracing mine. 

“I mean, by now, you’re pretty used to it, right?” He asked with an almost pleading look in his eye. There was something bugging him. I watched as he fiddled with his feet. “Maybe…” His ears turned bright red. It was riveting finally seeing this side oh him. More than that, it was downright cute. “M-Maybe” he stammered again. Danny took a deep breath to calm himself, though his scarlet face told all. “Maybe we can keep. Um. Swapping. Sometimes, sometimes I like being you, and sometimes I kind of like when you’re me.” He looked at me and smiled weakly, trying to change the subject. “A-Anyway, you need a place to stay next year, r-right? It kind of feels like we’ve already been roommates these past 12 months, what’s another 12?” His sweet words did nothing the dampen the guilt I felt in my betrayal. In any other circumstance, I’d have died happy just hearing that confession from him. Instead I could only think back to the professors words. I did live, at least partially, in Danny throughout this past year. It felt like a betrayal of myself to not come clean.

“Danny, listen. I think I need to tell you first, in your body…” My breath hastened, and I felt my stomach churn. How do you tell a guy what you’ve done with his body- *in* his body? Danny’s face frowned in concern as my bubbling emotions seemed to knock him out of his quick spell of shyness.

He smiled a little. “Look man, whatever you’ve done in my body, I’ve probably done too.” His smile widened. “Your body is mine, my body is yours. Call it even”. More words that would have swept me off my feet, had I not been confessing. More torture ensued.

“I went to the professor about it a few months ago and never told you” I continued. I was practically holding back tears. “Our necklaces were bugged, I think”.

“The professor said…” I gulped. “It was possible that when we switch, our minds don’t come through all at once.” Now tears did begin to swell. “You know how it’s supposed to take a second for your emotions to catch up. Well, when we switch, I still feel the same emotions…”. I gulped. “Since day 1, I think I’ve overwritten your, um, preferences”. Danny’s poker face felt like a dagger in my heart. It’s a face I often made in his body when I was in deep thought, so I knew he had to have been processing to the same conclusion. I could practically see the gear turning in his head. Click.

Face still an enigma, Danny waited a moment and then asked a simple question. “When did you tell the professor?” Click. 

I sniffled as I laid it bare in front of him. “5 months ago. Danny, I’m sorry! I dunno, I just thought maybe… maybe if we kept switching, if our minds kept being in each other’s bodies. Maybe if a little piece of how I felt kept lagging behind, you might have-“ Now the gear was fully spinning and I saw the realization hit his face. I had no idea what he was going to do. Punch me? Maybe. Run away in disgust? Likely. Instead, Daniel had done something equally surprising. His hand rested on my shoulder in a reassuring fashion. Then that same hand motioned me forward.

My memory of the next moment felt like a million moments in one. It was something so outside my realm of possibilities, my brain simply couldn’t process. The whiplash hit my senses all at once. Sweet but a bit salty. A moment of quietness before the background sounds of the campus slowly drizzled back in. The scent of fresh laundry and damp earth. My eyes took even longer to adjust from black to red to an image slowly refocussing. Last was my brain, which had been stunned into silence. I sat back in shock, repeating the same phrase over and over in my head. Danny just kissed me.

He laughed, eyes twinkling and mouth pulled into a smile, beaming in the way that always made my heart swoon. “That theory’s bogus. Trust me. I haven’t felt any different”. He smiled again, sheepishly this time, before fishing something from his backpack’s large pocket. He looked at the item in front of him, hand slightly shaking in hesitation before making his decision. Slowly, he held up his own log book, flipped to the very first page:

“Log Book 1:

<3 ”

=============

[z-socks]

Friend: I'm looking to expand my photography profile. Free shoot if you model Me: Okay but I'm doing it in cosplay and we're going to a junk yard

The Bad Batch meant (means) everything to me, especially Tech. I'm so sad that the show is over but that won't stop me from writing about it, doodling it, and dressing up for many Cons to come. I loved this journey - even if it did include so many tears (and blood and sweat; seriously this cosplay was like 70+ hours and 40 of them were sanding). The Bad Batch will live in my heart always. Clone Force 99!

Bonus:

"No we don't have any sub-light impulse drivers"

[antisocialsharky]

Hello! I just wanted to say that I've been using some of your posts talking about ASPD to help me better understand it to write an OC I'm writing. I have a question though, do you mind talking about more symptoms of ASPD that I should keep in mind when writing her?

Hi! Very glad to hear that my posts have been helpful and its cool that you are aiming for good representation!

When it comes to how ASPD symptoms should be written and which ones should make it into literature, theres different opinions, so this is gonna go a bit beyond your question I guess? Just to get a roundabout view.

1. Recovery Position

• First thing to rly keep in mind is that the intensity of the symptoms, the way they present and the way the character would deal with them, absolutely depends on where they are in recovery.

• It also depends on what you understand as recovery, be that the reducing of overall symptoms so they are less often present, the act of reducing the harm that is done by your symptoms (ex: trough redirection, or actively learning prosocial behavior) or just learning to find a way to live in society the way you are. No ones view on recovery or the way they go about it (or if they decide not to) is in any way better or superior, but it is an aspect that does change how many symptoms you show in which way, so its important to think about when writing a character.

2. Covert/Overt Symptom Presentation

• Another thing to think about, depending on what fits into your story, is the question as to whether your character is very obviously antisocial, or whether they go about it in a more covert secret way. Can they control which symptoms they show when? Or are they lost to their impulses and emotions? Do they come from a background where hiding their symptoms was essential, or were they able/forced to present obviously?

• Theres also a more mixed presentation where some symptoms are more obvious and others are not, depending on stuff like what meets your needs best, how much control you have and whether or not you've done any active work on the symptoms yet, etc.

• Then you can also think about the personal opinion of your character on symptom presentation. Do they believe that they should get to just be themselves? Are they of the opinion that people just have to deal with their symptoms and accept them that way? Or do they think that they have to hide some symptoms in order to fit into society better? Have they potentially adopted some prosocial ways of thinking and model their presentation after that? Depending on what it is, it will obviously look different.

3. The Causes of their ASPD

• Depending on the type of trauma they went trough that made them develop ASPD, presentation will differ. Its highly individual of course, but theres some themes, like people who come from violent households often being violent themselves, people who were neglected struggling with the social aspects like empathy & remorse, people who were lied to/manipulated/berated all the time adopting similar manners, people who had to commit crimes and/or witnessed those often continuing to do so because its normal to them, etc.

• The other aspect is genetics, where certain tendencies can be given from parent to child or grandparent to grandchild, such as impulsive tendencies, the type of temper someone has, access (or denied access) to certain parts of the brain that are responsible for prosocial emotions, etc. Those genetics mix with the trauma and sometimes push the presentation in certain directions, so its a thing to keep in mind.

• Some CD/ASPD symptoms can also develop/be made worse trough bullying, intense experiences in childhood/teens, hanging around with people who engage in/normalize certain behaviors, etc. (ex: kids with delinquient tendencies who hang around other kids with those, may be more likely to develop that as a continous behavior). So its also worth thinking about who your character was around while they grew up, who influenced them how and what was normalized to them.

4. The Current DSM-V ASPD Criteria

• When it comes to the core symptoms of ASPD, theres 3 out of 7 DSM criteria points your character should meet. It doesn't matter which ones, but it has to be at least three! Your character should also be older than 18, have shown conduct disorder symptoms before they turned 15 and have their ASPD symptoms even in absence of other comorbidities, substances and/or episodes (Criterion B-D which I am not quoting, but thats it summed up)

• The 7 criteria points recognized in the DSM-V are (and I quote):

A. A pervasive pattern of disregard for and violation of rights of others, occuring since age 15 years, as indicated by three (or more) of the following:

1. Failure to conform to social norms with respect to lawful behaviors, as indicated by repeatedly performing acts that are ground for arrest.

2. Deceitfulness, as indicated by repeated lying, use of aliases or conning others for personal profit or pleasure.

3. Impulsivity or failure to plan ahead.

4. Irritability or aggressiveness, as indicated by repeated physical fights or assaults.

5. Reckless disregard for safety of self or others.

6. Consistent irresponsibility, as indicated by repeated failure to sustain consistent work behavior or honor financial obligations.

7. Lack of remorse, as indicated by being indifferent to or rationalizing having hurt, mistreated or stolen from another.

• Everything after "as indicated by" is an example of a possible presentation. The DSM-V acknowledges that there are other possible ways in which symptoms can show up.

5. The Alternative ASPD Model in the DSM-V

• This is not used to officially diagnose people with ASPD, but is one idea, as to how personality disorder classification could work in the future. It looks at the symptoms as dimensions, under which possible experiences could fall and mentions quite a few things the current criteria doesn't, so I'll quote it below as well:

A. Moderate or greater impairment in personality functioning, manifested by characteristic difficulties in two or more of the following areas:

1. Identity: Egocentrism, self esteem derived from personal gain, power or pleasure.

2. Self direction: Goal setting based on personal gratification, absence of prosocial internal standards, associated with failure to conform to lawful or culturally normative ethical behavior.

3. Empathy: Lack of concern for feelings, needs or suffering of others, lack of remorse after hurting or mistreating another.

4. Intimacy: Incapacity for mutually intimate relationships, as exploitation is primary means of relating to others, including by deceit and coercion, use of dominance or intimidation to control others.

B. Six or more of the following seven pathological personality traits:

1. Manipulativeness (an aspect of antagonism): Frequent use of subterfuge to influence or control others, use of seduction, charm, glibness, or ingratiation to achieve ones ends.

2. Callousness (an aspect of antagonism): Lack of concern for feelings or problems of others, lack of guilt or remorse about negative or harmful effects of ones actions on others, aggression, sadism.

3. Deceitfulness (an aspect of antagonism): Dishonesty and fraudulence, misrepresentation of self, embellishment or fabrication when relating events.

4. Hostility (an aspect of antagonism): Persistent or frequent angry feelings, anger or irritability in response to minor slights and insults, mean, nasty or vengeful behavior.

5. Risk taking (an aspect of disinhibition): Engagement in dangerous, risky and potentially self damaging activities, unnecessarily and without regard for consequences, boredom proneness and thoughtless initiation of activities to counter boredom, lack of concern for ones limitations and denial of the reality of personal danger.

6. Impulsivity (an aspect of disinhibition): Acting on the spur of the moment in response to immediate stimuli, acting on a momentary basis without a plan or consideration of outcomes, difficulty establishing and following plans.

7. Irresponsibility (an aspect of disinhibition): Disregard for - and failure to honor - financial and other obligations or commitments, lack of respect for - and lack of follow trough on - agreements and promises.

Note: The individual is at least 18 years of age.

6. Other Common Experiences

• Theres a few experiences that quite a few people with ASPD report, that have not explicitly made it into the criteria. Sometimes these are examples for certain symptoms and/or are implied, sometimes these have been studied but haven't been written as a requirement for diagnosis and sometimes these are not supported by science/still debated by science.

• Apathy, a total lack of emotion, overall muted emotions or having trouble to access certain emotions, is something some people with ASPD talk about a lot. There is no scientific consensus yet, as to whether this is an ASPD symptom. Some theories suggest it falls under PTSD (absence of positive emotions & tendency to experience negative ones and/or having dissociated away from the emotions and/or having put up a sort of non permanent barrier as a form of protection), depression (common comorbidity, anhedonia & apathy can both be part of it), other PDs (schizoid, borderline episodes, etc.) or something else entirely. While its not sure whether its caused by ASPD, or not, a lot of people with it seem to report differences in their capability to feel a full range of intense emotions.

• The criteria talks about aggressiveness and physical fights, which is not the only way in which this symptom seems to commonly present. Harming animals, homicidal ideation, dealing with aggressive thoughts & urges without actually acting on them, verbal aggression, taking out aggression on self or property, etc. are also often reported.

• The current criteria doesn't mention it at all and the alternative talks about a complete inability to form bonds, but community consensus seems to be, that while forming emotional bonds is harder & happens more rarely, it is still possible. The intensity differs (some describe the bond as a logical construct, some only do platonic bonds, some only do romantic bonds, some describe deep obsessiveness, etc.) as does the number of people they find themselves bonded with. Theres also a significant amount of people in the community that describe a phenamenon similar to BPDs FP (aka a bond to a person that is defined by the symptoms of the personality disorder).

• There is some debate on whether or not an absence of prosocial inner standards makes it impossible or more difficult to define personal morals and understand how morality works. Some people with ASPD say they have no difficulties, some report that they struggle with the understanding part, some say they struggle with upholding those norms and others struggle with both. It seems like ASPD could make it more difficult to understand and/or respect the way societies morals work for some, which makes room for conflict.

• Personality Disorders are what we call egosyntonic, which usually means that they are in alignment with what we as people think is the correct way to feel, think and act. This doesn't mean that its inherently impossible to change the way you think/feel/act and that recovery is impossible, but it may make it more difficult to break out of the patterns (if that is what one wants). Some people show little problems in this area, some need a lot of outer assistance and others either can't or don't want to change.

7. Other Things To Keep In Mind

• You should probably think about whether your character fits the psychopathy subtype & if yes which definition of it you want to use (theres different theories)

• ASPD can influence every aspect of your life, so it may interfere with things in such a roundabout way that you wouldn't even think about it at first (ex: Disregard for safety of self => Disregard for your own health => You get ill carelessly => You dont take ur meds responsibly, or put off a doctors visit for months/years => You end up with longterm damage => You don't treat it responsibly => You get more ill => Death. Which happens to ppl without ASPD too, but can indeed be a presentation of that symptom.). Additionally comorbdities interact & interfere with ASPD symptoms and may alter/add onto presentation!

• You could also always add the ASPD stigma into the mix and how your character responds to it/how it influences them. Does it make them not wanna recover? Does it make them wanna recover even more to prove everyone wrong? Are they trying to get into therapy but no therapist wants them? Is it on a court record and causing problems that way? Do they lose relationships/friendships? Does it change the way they see themselves or others? etc.

• The key with ASPD characters is not to just make them into good people or portray them as angels and also not to always make them into the cruel villain. The key is to show that they are an individual, a human being, a single example for what this disorder can present as. If you can somehow portray that the presentation of ASPD in your character is just how this specific character is and is not how the disorder inherently presents itself, you nailed it! Cus u'll have ASPDers who want to just stay the way they are and who are exactly what you'd imagine a cruel villain to be like, you have ASPDers who you couldn't ever distinguish from a prosocial person, cus they learned to blend in and you've got ASPDers who decide that they wanna do a 180 and behave in the most prosocial way possible and then you have everything in between and beyond. So as long as your character would meet criteria, as long as you're not spreading misinfo and as long as its clear that its just one example of a possible presentation, you're good in my opinion (but this is indeed just my opinion and others may disagree).

Note: If you need examples for the specific symptoms, you can ofc send another ask, this is more of a general overview of what exists, cus going into detail on each would make this post wayyy too long.

[typingfool]

𝐍𝐎𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐍𝐎𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒 ;; nikolai lantsov

pairing ; Nikolai Lantsov x fem!Reader platonic / mentions ; tamar yul-bataar, tolya yul-bataar

outline —; Nikolai isn’t the only royal member in the Sturmhond Crew. 

WARNINGS —: none.

Word Count —; 621

A/N —; just wanted to write something again, i've been stuck in a writer's rut. NOT BOOK ACCURATE. THIS IS BASED ON THE SHOW; SHADOW AND BONE. so sorry if it's short, i'll expand on this later. for now, enjoy !!

“You’re whom?” 

His tired question echoes, voice bouncing across the room, making Nikolai slightly bite his inner cheek. He shook his head, blonde hair messily falling over the edge of his brows. You sat with your back against the headboard, the weight of your knees covering your chest. He carefully repeated his question; “Who are you?” 

You lay your cheek against your knee, a familiar smile broadly appearing across your face. A sleepy expression carried your next words, as though you weren’t thinking about what you were saying. “Secondborn Princess of Novyi Zem.” You replied with a yawn. 

Nikolai sat on the edge of the bed, the fabric of the tunic fit his body perfectly, and you forced yourself not to stare. Peaking your gaze towards your clothes. He scoffed, his hand extending to your face. His fingers found their way to your chin, forcing you to look at him. With amusement evident in his voice, he said; “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

Your fingers curled around his wrist, pulling it away, the absence of his touch lingered across the skin of your chin. Rolling your eyes, your head fell back against the bed’s headboard. “Sure, of course, I would tell you, Prince Nikolai.” You teased, shaking your head, arms wrapping around your legs. “You didn’t think you were the only royal one on board, did you?” 

Nikolai plopped himself on the bed, with his palm on his forehead, scoffing. 

No wonder you were so enticing. So polite and kind. Your posture told your status, you held your head high, shoulders on-alert, hands crossed or over each other (because, who would hold your hands if it grew cold?). Your choices were impulsive, for sure, but that was only due to the fact that the luxury of choice isn’t a right to a Princess, especially a Secondborn. The attention is with the Firstborn, the first light, the first star, the responsible, the role model. 

How could Nikolai miss all those traits? The traits that made him love you deeply. In secret. With the doors locked, he would hold his aching heart, wishing that Sturmhond is his real name. 

Then again, you adopted an alias. One that felt so uneasy leaving his tongue. He felt the need to say your real name, if you so kindly give him the permission to. “What is your name?” Nikolai asked, peeking down on your tired figure. 

You left your spot and settled beside him, elbows touching. You said your name without looking at him, carrying the bitterness of your title alongside your identity. 

“Princess…” He started slowly, maybe sleepily. His whispery voice stopped, before he turned to face you. Your gaze was still fixed on the ceiling, ignoring the Prince’s tracing eyes over your profile. “No,” He stopped, then said your name. 

The weight of your responsibilities came tumbling down. And Saints didn’t matter to you anymore, the ongoing war of Ravka, destroying the Fold, Kirigan’s return… nothing mattered. Nothing. Your name never sounded so common, yet so rare. Your parents named you after a Queen, and as the saying goes, ‘Name her after a Queen and expect her to act like one.’ 

For a moment, you were so thankful that you were in a foreign land. One that didn’t recognize your name in its meaning. Thankful for your impulsive and rash decision that one midnight. The one night you fled, met Tamar and Tolya, and joined Sturmhond’s Crew. 

The one night that changed your view in a world so cruel. That, perhaps, a stranger’s name could belong to you. But he proved you wrong. Your name belongs to you. 

“Out there, Princess” Nikolai pointed to the walls, eyes closed. “In here, No titles,” Nikolai smiled. 

♡ PLEASE LIKE & REBLOG TO SUPPORT ME.

[boatemlag]

the impulse the fandom has to talk about grians in absolutes: he's chaotic, he's not loyal, he hates authority, etc etc, when this is just demonstrably not true. this goes along with my post i wrote last night with this impulse to distinguish between "cc grian" and "c grian"; when we work within the model it becomes imperative to separate the grian that is an organizing force behind the scenes (eg. plotting big moon, organizing events on hermitcraft, admining evos or life series) with the grian that does not like authority¹. it becomes unethical (inconsistently) to incorporate this version of grian, ie. "the real" version of grian, and not the simulacra, into his character. this leads people to discard any characterizing points that are, arguably, in character choices, that may disprove these absolutes and archetypes.

grian is actually pretty often both a stabilizing force and a destabilizing force in dynamics and situations. case study for this: grian in the vault invasion, hermitcraft 9. we can see him traverse the vault with the other "invaders", and become game master, albeit tongue in cheek. this is both grian the cc, who can be said to have helped orchestrate this vault crawl², and what would traditionally be considered "c!grian" who wants to challenge authority. since the fandom perception of grian as a destablizing force is so persistent, there are multiple ways in which this can be explained within an existing framework of character analysis without committing to the taboo of cc bleed³. rather than admitting that grian can contain more magnitudes of complexity than simply "chaos" or "order", and that the existence of a cc!grian may affect that, it is perhaps considered ethical to simple boil down this character to "chaos gremlin".

another example. the case of grian's feelings towards scar being his soulmate. popular fanon interpretation includes a variety of cases; c!grian's guilt towards the end of third life, c!grian disliking scar, c!grian repressing his feelings towards scar. this is a rare example where we actually have notes from both scar and grian (ooc) that offer a doylian explanation⁴⁵, but this interpretation is almost never incorporated into meta. there seems to be a strong line separating grian ooc and ic in this case⁶.

grian as a character is driven by curiosity, a case of lethal blue and orange morals, and a keen awareness of appearances. all of these could be said to be traits of "a watcher" in the evos sense, where the watcher is the audience. he is a character motivated by narrative awareness. i think this can lend itself to the ATUS school of thought, where he is trying to avoid the narrative. but it is certainly a compelling thought experiment to consider grian as a character motivated by the fact that he's on stage. this is not an uncommon thought, but most seem to take this in the direction of grian's dislike of being on stage. while this has it's own merits, the novelty of it has worn off for me.

grian has also stated on multiple occasions that he actively avoids watching hermitcraft streams and videos. he would prefer to experience the server in game as opposed to through the eyes of an audience member. this to me is a very shiny tidbit of information that, while on first impulse, can lend credence to the "grian is not a watcher" or more commonly "grian does not like being a watcher", there is also the far more compelling read of grian being a watcher while trying to experience the world like players do from the perspective of curiosity, or perhaps to appease an audience he knows values "authenticity".

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

that is to say, who is popularly characterized as resisting authority. grian does historically prefer to engage with plotlines where he is resisting authority (mycellium war), perceived authority (3rd life, if popular opinion is to be believed, although this is not necessarily the most earnest interpretation of 3l!grian's motives) or, in some cases, audience interpretation, which can be seen as a type of authority grian dislikes more than the kayfabe of civil unrest (king ren plotline). however, within these examples, there is room for interpretation for the characterization of a grian that actually strictly adheres to rules. (see: my post on grian's morality)

it has been elaborated on, out of character, the work that went into this. grian was both coordinating the hermitpires crossover (which took place literally immediately after the vault's completion) and helping ren with his plot. part of the reason ren asked for grian's assistance was because ren was literally working himself to the bone with the orchestration of events. (see: cleo's episodes about the king ren arc during the museum arc)

cc bleed defined here as when the ooc personality or beliefs affect the choices of a mcyt character.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UwFbtE4YS7g " Double Life: Episode 1 - DOUBLE TROUBLE!", GrianMC, 19:06-19:19

[i dont feel like logging onto twitter on desktop to find the tweet so imagine a link to scar's tweet about people complaining about him and grian always teaming]

i could make a case for cc!grian as simulacra in itself. what we see is a curated selection of a person that we take as the "real" grian.

NOTE: i am not the first grian scholar to think of or work with this, this is simply putting to words some thoughts. if youre interested in this concept, i suggest "tempering" as probably the first fic that ever made me think about watcher grian in a different way

[cattimeswithjellie]

There seems to be a pervasive opinion that Scar is winning the MCYT Tumblr Sexyman contest due to a misunderstanding of what Tumblr Sexymen are, and that in fact Scar's fans believe he's just a regular sexyman. This is in fact not true at all. Scar's pathetic squishy wet-cat-standing-in-a-puddle-even-though-the-door-is-open credentials have long since been established in the fandom. (This contains spoilers for most things Scar has been in lately.)

In Hermitcraft Season 9, Scar won Statistics Roulette last week on "number of deaths" despite the fact that his statistics were reset only three or four months ago. Pathetic squish of a big-hatted man died more times in four months than Impulse or Grian did in ten. And because of the reset, it doesn't even count the twenty or so times Grian and Mumbo murdered him for fun on the very first day of the server!

In Double Life, Grian literally snagged him with a fishing pole and dragged him home with him in an ultimately futile effort to keep him from dying. Scar learned that Grian was cheating on him and passive-aggressively snarked about it to other people for two episodes, then baked cookies for Grian's secret soulmate.

In 100 Hours Hardcore, Grian and Joel basically formed a protection squad to keep Scar alive, to the point of coating the land under his base with beds to fall on and raiding a mansion for totems of undying. They still failed because Scar put apples in his off-hand instead of a totem and didn't notice his elytra was ready to break.

In Season 8, Scar was killed when a llama spat on him. His hat was unimaginably tiny, so tiny that he was forced to commission a huge model hat to wear on top of the tiny hat.

In Last Life, Scar got scammed out of one life, blackmailed out of two more lives, then lost another one by falling into a trap he'd been warned of two minutes earlier, even while people were yelling at him not to fall in the trap. He had no diamond armor so he wore a diamond-colored skin but painted abs on it as well so he would look more buff.

In Third Life, Scar attempted to get a monopoly on dark oak without checking to make sure there wasn't an entire dark oak forest on the other side of the server. He tried to get a monopoly on sand by putting his home in the middle of a large desert and yelling at people who came to get sand. He was the first player to die, blown up in a prank gone wrong.

In Season 7, Scar wouldn't even shave or put on pants until he wanted to be elected mayor. It may actually have been a fake beard. He had to terraform the entire shopping district twice when he lost the Turf War because the other side didn't actually like mycelium, they just liked causing problems for Scar.

In conclusion, yes Scar runs around without a shirt and has abs so ferocious that they show through his "diamond" armor, but he is not a Sexy Man. He is a sexyman, a real Onceler through and through, and he deserves his sweep. Vote Scar!

[yannaryartside]

SydCarmy vs Lucus

AMBITIONS AND PERSPECTIVES ON ART

This is a long one. Is about the series's themes on pursuing the arts, and the reasons that this ships work as symbolism for it.

When thinking about the reasons Marcus and Sydney were not going to work out (as far as we can see), I read a comment saying: "they are not on the same level" and the more I thought about it, I realized it not only meant they are not equal in culinary expertise, but they also have different ways to "live" their path in the culinary arts, almost opposite philosophies about it. And all of it is explained in their conversations with their (possible) romantic interest. 

WHAT IS AN ART PHILOSOPHY?

When you enter a path in the arts, any part, at some point, you will have to make decisions about how you are going to transit this path because there are very different ways to live a creative life, to make money out of it, and how feel fulfilled about it. Many people will enter their path with an idea of what success looks like, probably modeled after an artist that you admired, the desire for your art to be recognized as good, or as "the best," or even to disrupt what came before you. Shortly, art philosophy is how you value your path in the arts: What makes it good art? What point of your career is gonna bring you satisfaction? What guides you to it?

CARMY AND SIDNEY : "LET'S BE THE BEST AND REACH LOST OF PEOPLE"

They both want to be "the best," their definition of it equals stars, reviews, magazine interviews, and restaurant numbers. The creative impulse is only as valuable as is booming, and a chef is only as good as the size of their kitchen.

They both want exterior recognition and aspire to a big audience, and their satisfaction in their craft depends on that; what makes their unbearable jobs worth it somehow is if "people loved the food." They both have wounds and bonds formed around food and love making people happy with the food, but they have selected a perspective of what "the best" is and is an ambition they run almost blindly to. You can think the burger place on your block has the best food in the world. There are cooks utterly content with that, but the Michelling stars are telling otherwise.

Of course, this is the most tangible way to measure success in arts, the singer with the most loved songs, the book with the most readers. Quality is supposed to be evident by popularity, and they want it, decorated with the prize of succeding in such a competitive industry. They have tried to win the culinary rat race and have regrets about it.

Carmy (motivated by the rejection and abandonment from his brother) worked his ass to unhealthy levels to climb the culinary ladder, living to best everybody around him and run the best restaurant on the planet (which, if we believe his monologue, only took two fucking years). Sydney is presented to us as somebody with equal creative powers, intelligence, and instincts as Carmy, which is particularly obvious in their brainstorming sessions. But she hasn't been offered the same opportunities. Her previous bosses described her as "incredibly talented, impatient, and green." and one friend told her as "always trying to be the best." There is much to say about how her impatience may sabotage her ambitions. Still, it may be because she fears getting stuck, labeled, or never recognized by her talents.

These two have 3 things they prioritize in their art paths:

Creative expression+people love the food

Exterior recognition based on the industry standards (stars and big kitchens)

A rat race (sense of urgency) and your ability to play on it.

What makes your food the "best" is comparing it to everyone else and "winning" in a particular category. 

Not to mention, they are both deeply aware of the logistics and money sides of the restaurant life. It is not like they don't value inspiration, but their ambition is the defining force behind said inspiration. 

MARCUS AND LUCA: "LET'S BE INSPIRED AND EVOLVE"

Luca was introduced to us as someone who was "trying to keep up with Carmy, who was much better than him," the same way the audience feels Marcus is someone trying to impress and keep up with Syd. Luca knows the culinary world, has traveled, and has a privileged position making high-end desserts (possibly in a place with stars). He is the Carmy to Marcus's Sydney. 

Btw, there are some crazy parallels here too:

Marcus and Sydney have a wound/fear related to their mothers.

Luca and Carmy have strained relationships with their siblings (Luca has a sister he cannot find).

Both Carmy and Sydney got into cooking because of early childhood passion

Marcus and Luca got into it by "chance," discovering a passion that they never expected to love this much or be good at.

Mentor x student relationship.

Back to Marcus and Lucas's perspective of art. Notice how Carmy was trapped in a sense of urgency environment, with many people working for him, in NYC, a chaotic city; while Luca seems to work entirely by himself, in a pretty chill environment, in a rather peaceful city. Luca and Marcus thrive on this environment, which is about thought and delicacy, unlike the "efficient, fast run kitchen" Carmy and Sydney established.

Marcus had no philosophy about his craft because he was barely starting. Still, he adopts Luca's philosophy, which has 3 parts:

You may never be the best. Some artists have to let go of the idea of being "the best." There is a lot to say about this. But I want to express this using an example of the craft that I aspire to get into: writing. A friend once told me that some books are not meant to reach millions because they have a very specific audience, and what makes them good is how "memorable they are." More of it, some artists are never recognized in their times. The industry may not be made for them, or it may be just luck. Limiting the value of art by the industry standard is depriving the world of art that needs to be more exploratory, spontaneous, or just free. 

Since industry validation may not be available to you, instead of "being the best" against others, you can decide, "My only competition is me from yesterday." This perspective is super important because it gives you something to aspire to, ensures your creative growth, and allows reinvention.

It is not about skill but being open to the world, yourself, and other people. It is not about fancy techniques or recognition but about being inspired. 

To Luca and now Marcus, the creative process is as good as is honest, and a chef is as good as the effort he puts into it. The "self-exploration" and the recognition of the people surrounding him allowed Marcus to create his desserts: The Copenhagen sundae, for his ultimate school (and Luca), "Mum's" honey bun, Sidney's donut (the first one in believing in him and when he recognized his dreams), and "The Michael" the one that put him to make bread, and the tribute that needs to be made.

[greeenchrysanthemums]

Thus Always to Tyrants

Chapter 1: The Start of the Fall

Gem is the commander of the Wintertide royal army, Grian is the leader of a resistance hell bent on taking the crown down no matter the cost. It was only natural that they would become enemies.

Chapter 1 (you are here) -> Chapter 2

Read on ao3 ❀ here ❀

CW: past/mentioned war, non-graphic violence.

Words: 6,493

Pov: Gem

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

The tip of Gem’s sword punctured the dummy’s chest, right through the center of the worn out fabric X sewn into its burlap surface. She planted her foot right under where the blade was buried and kicked it away with enough force to send it crashing to the ground, freeing her sword in the process. The dummy rolled away from her,  it’s sewn on face frowning up at her sadly in an almost comedic way as it went. She panted and stood up straight, rolling her shoulders to release some of the tension they had collected in the muscles. 

Her ears were met with a round of clapping, and she turned to smile at the group of young knights and squires who had gathered at the edge of the training grounds to observe her sword play. She gave an elegant, somewhat exaggerated, bow before turning to look up at the sky. She shielded her eyes from the shining rays as she checked the sun’s position. It was just about noon by this point, if not nearing it. She should be on her way, lest she be late.

“That will be all from me, I’m afraid. I’m in danger of receiving a verbal lashing from sir Impulse.” She joked to the trainees with an apologetic smile. 

“Do you really have to go?” One of the younger squires asked with big, pleading eyes. The others echoed the sentiment, all trying to convince her to stay and show them more.

“Unfortunately, yes, I do,” She said, “It’s a very important day today, as you all know, and my presence cannot be missed. Why don’t you lot work on what I just showed you until you are called to join us, and then you can show me your improvement another day. How does that sound?” There was a chorus of disappointed vocalisations, but they got back to their own work pretty quickly after a stern look was thrown their way.

She walked over to the fallen dummy and took a moment to stand it upright so that it was ready for the next person to use. She jogged over to where she had abandoned her water skin at the edge of the training ring, expertly tossing the practice sword she had borrowed into the designated barrel behind the dummies as she went. She took a few greedy gulps of sweet, crisp water before wiping away the sweat that had accumulated on her brow with the hem of her sleeve. Her clothes were damp with sweat and sticking to her skin, but where she was heading would be just as hot, if not more, so she was not worried about it. 

She really should not have let herself be roped into showing off to the younger knights and squires, but how could she not? She simply could not resist their charms; she had no choice but to say yes when they came to her on her way out to beg that she show them a few basic forms. They reminded her far too much of her younger self, she supposed. Bright eyed, full of admiration, and ready and eager to learn. There had been someone once in her life that was willing to give in to her pleas and show her everything they knew, she only thought it fair that she be the same kind of role model in these kids' lives. She would just die if she didn’t live up to their expectations. If that meant she ended up a little late every now and then? So be it.

She hooked the skin to her belt and bid the young ones an enthusiastic farewell, which they returned with varying degrees of equal cheerfulness and disappointment, and with that, she was off. She darted through the servant's entrance and into the kitchen, where she quickly snagged a bread roll out of a basket on one of the counters, giggling at the indigent shout of “Commander!” from one of the cooks as she did so. She waved goodbye to them, and they rolled their eyes at her, crossing their arms as she rounded the corner into the hall.

She made her way through the corridors with the bread roll secured safely in her bite, the loud clanking of her armor bouncing off of the high walls. As she ran, she took the opportunity to fix her bun, which had gotten rather messy during her little showing off session. She tucked loose strands back where they belonged and tightened the binding holding the bun and the braid together. It probably still looked a right mess, but at least it was a little more presentable. With her hair out of her face, she took a large bite out of the roll, groaning at the sweet, buttery taste of it.

She haphazardly shoved the rest of the roll into her mouth and chewed as fast as she could without choking. She licked the flakey crumbs from her fingers and wiped the rest of the mess off on the skirt of her dress. Not the most polite or proper, and her mama would definitely scold her for doing it, but she had not the time to worry about manners. She was going to be late; later than she probably already was.

She waved to the on duty guard at the main door and he yelled for her to have a good time just as she exited earshot. She lifted up the hem of her dress as she ran down the front steps, trying to avoid tripping over the expanse of fabric. She stumbled a little on the final step, pinwheeling her arms in order to steady herself before carrying on her way. 

She squinted against the sun in her eyes and slowed her pace to a light jog, a smile coming onto her face as she caught sight of her friends and the small group of guards waiting at the front gate for her. Impulse and Scott looked up as she skidded to a stop in front of them. She put her hands on her hips and bent slightly at the waist as she tried to catch her breath. 

“Worry not, I am here!” She proudly declared as she straightened her stance.

“Here, and late.” Scott said from where he was leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and one foot propped against the stone. His long hair was pulled over his shoulder into a braid, a stray stand of the blue locks falling into his amused face. Impulse beside him stood more casually with his thumbs tucked into the belt around his waist. The eldest man stifled a laugh at her expense.

“I will have you know that I am barely late. It is hardly even noon yet!” Gem defended with her hands still on her hips, turning her nose up at him in a playful manner.

“Late is late, Commander,” Scott laughed, his heterochromatic eyes gleaming with delight at her defensiveness. Gem opened her mouth to continue the friendly argument, but was halted by Impulse’s hand’s clamping down on either of their shoulders.

“Alright, that’s enough out of you two. Let's be on our way before our absence is missed.” Impulse said. Despite being lower in rank than her, Impulse was the oldest out of them, and one of her best friends, so Gem took no offense when he gave her a light shove in the direction of the town.

Gem took the lead as they exited the front gates, bidding the guards up at the top of the tall wall a goodbye as she went. Truth be told, it really was not too much of an issue that they were heading out a little later than what they expected. She had long ago coordinated and dispatched another unit to go ahead of them early this morning. Not only that, but her presence was not something that was strictly required, it was a personal choice. Technically there was no way for them to be late to this event. Scott simply enjoyed pulling her leg, and she, his.

The journey to town didn’t take them very long - a journey that they could have made shorter had the capital not been too crowded to bring horses on a day like this -  and in the blink of an eye they were entering the crowded city. 

Stands and carts littered the usually empty streets, filled to the brim with rare goods and flooded by customers eager to get their hands on whatever was being offered. The decadent smell of cooking meats and spices filled her nose and caused her mouth to water, the faint hint of baked goods and perfumes lingering just under the surface. Lively music filled the air, as did laughter and conversation. Over the heads of many a passersby she could see a stage set up in the center of the city square, where a band was playing the jolly tune that could be heard. 

If one was to look even further, they would also catch sight of even more booths and carts, designated entirely to games and things of the like. There were even places set up for the trading of livestock and furniture. Buildings were lined with decorations that were vibrant in colour.

The event wasn’t to officially begin for another quarter of an hour, but it appeared things were already in full swing.

The Festival of Good Tides; a yearly occurrence in Wintertide that was first established several years back after a truce had been called to end a three-year war between the kingdom and its neighbouring lands, Coral Crest. What was originally created as a way of boosting post war morale had become somewhat of a national holiday that the people looked forward to with great anticipation. Its popularity was also helped by the fact that the many activities and wares sold brought a large increase of income to the kingdom, something that many now relied on for the coming winter season, where food and warmth was a bit hard to come by without a bit of extra coin.

Though the festivities only lasted one day, the most was always made of it. Events and trading started at noon and extended into the evening until the sun had set and the stars had risen, from which point the king would make his appearance, give a speech and his blessing for the coming winter, and then the feast would begin. This grand dinner would go throughout the night and into the early morning, with more than enough food and alcohol to satisfy the masses provided by the castle.

Though it had only been a few years since the tradition had begun, its rise in popularity had been swift and widespread. People would come from all over the land just to partake in the joyous occasion, and get a piece of the financial opportunities that it offered. 

During this time, Inns would become so crowded that people even took the opportunity to rent out rooms in their own homes to travelers. It was even common for those intending to sell to camp out with their traveling carts and stalls in the surrounding woods during the week leading up to the festival, so common that there were designated areas marked and prepped for them nearly a month in advance. 

Gem never really got to enjoy the festival as the celebration that it was, preferring to act more as security so as to ensure that things didn’t get too out of hand, but it was still something that she looked forward to every year. It was one of many highlights that came from living in the capital. It reminded her of who she was here for, who she spent every day of her life training and fighting to protect.

It wasn’t too long ago that this land would have been rife with paranoia and poverty, the war having taken its toll on the people and the land itself. Gem basked in every second of the happiness that she could, while also remaining vigilant that nothing disturbed it. She would do anything to ensure that this time of peace lasted.

“I’m going to split off here,” Scott said, interrupting her thoughts. He jabbed his thumb over to the left of the path they were walking to indicate where he was going, “I think Jimmy’s stall is somewhere over there. I’m going to go see if I can haggle him out of some of the high-quality leather he sells before it is all snatched up. Assuming it hasn’t been already”

“Alright, we will see you at the feast.” Impulse said, giving him a rough pat on the shoulder as a farewell.

“Don’t forget to actually do your job while you’re at it.” Gem teased, punching him in the shoulder. She then motioned for two of the other knights to break off from the group to accompany Scott, and motioned for two others to go in the opposite direction, where she knew more knights were already patrolling. She didn’t want them too split up lest something happen and they need numbers, but it is never a bad idea to have eyes in more places.

“You know me, I’ve always got an eye out,” Scott replied.

“Give Jimmy and Tango my greetings” Gem cheerfully told him as he began to walk away, only to be met with a grimace thrown over his shoulder at her. She laughed at the expression. She knew that Scott’s relationship with his friend's partner was strained and awkward at best, and it was too much fun to tease him about it.

“I think I’m going to head over to my parents' cart. Would you like to come with me?” Impulse asked, looking around the crowded area to try and spot them over the masses.

“I think I am going to hang around the stage. A vast majority of fights always seem to break out in or around this area, so it is best I stay here for now.” Gem said, crossing her arms and scanning the crowd for anything, or anyone, that might be out of place.

“I know we’re here to keep an eye on things, but do try to have a little bit of fun, alright? This is, after all, a celebration!” Impulse insisted, gesturing towards the festivities with a broad sweep of his arms.

“I will do as I please. Give your mothers' my greetings, yes?” Gem asked, shooing him away and sending an extra knight after him with a gesture of her hand.

“Will do!” He gave her a two fingered salute before jogging away.

Gem would not lie and say she had not been tempted to go see Impulse’s parents with him. They were lovely people who adored her and always “snuck” handfuls of candy into the pockets of her dress when she wasn’t looking, but she had meant it when she said the city square and the stage were where 90% of the festival's problems broke out before the feast began, second only to the alcohol booths. Regardless of how rare issues actually were, though, she really would prefer to stay close so she can break up any altercations before they had a chance to escalate 

She did, however, make a pit stop over to one of the meat carts to buy her and the remaining knights with her a rabbit and potato skew from one of the stands a little ways away from the center of the festival. It was a divine bit of food, and she would be a fool to not get some before it was all sold out. The bread roll she had snagged from the kitchen had done little to satiate her hunger and it would be foolish to work on an empty stomach, she reasoned as she thumbed coins over to the vendor and was handed a couple of skewers in return for her payment. 

She distributed them among her remaining knights and then took a big bite out of the hearty meat as she led the way back towards the stage, just in time to catch the start of the next performance.

A stout young woman in a short sleeved, rose pink dress made her way up onto the stage with a bright smile on her face. A man followed behind her with a staff in his hand, and Gem grew giddy with excitement as she realized where this performance may be going. The man went down onto one knee and offered the woman the staff , which she accepted with a deep bow before he rushed off the stage.

She raised the staff, made of wood old and brittle with a glittering jewel entrapped in its spiraled tip, up towards the sky, and the crowd waited with bated breath. She whispered something under her breath, so quiet that it was sure not a soul in the crowd had heard her, but Gem watched her lips form the words, and she knew what was coming next.

For a moment nothing happened, and then light burst forth from the tip of the staff up into the sky in a coil of glittering gold. The strings of light rippled through the air before coming together to form the image of a bird big and grand, which spread its magneficent wings and flew over the crowd with a brilliant wooshing sound. The crowd screamed with delight and laughter as the bird let out a tremendous caw. It rose high into the sky before turning abruptly and diving straight for the stage floor. It exploded as it made contact with the ground, sending glittering shimmers of light, almost like millions of miniature stars, all across the wooden planks.

The crowd erupted into raucous cheers, which Gem joined in on, holding the now bare wooden skew in between her teeth in order to do so. The woman, her smiling face now red and shiny with sweat, bowed once more, holding her staff out to the side of her and placing a hand over her heart as she did so. She took a moment to wave to the crowd before rushing off stage to make way for the next performer. 

What a brilliant performance, Gem thought. Magic in this day and age was a rare sight to see, so even simple spells like that were enough to leave most in awe. 

Gem couldn’t even imagine what it had been like back in the day, when magic was rampant and widespread across the lands, when things like this were commonplace and about as impressive as someone tying their boots. Gem was well versed in what little there was to be known about magic, and it wasn’t a lot. There were very little records of that time long past, only a few books here, the odd fairytale there. There was barely even enough to tell the people of today that there was once a period of time where magic ruled the lands, and no one exactly knows what happened to it.

Now there were barely any folks left with any sort of magical inclination about them at all, and those who did had so little of it that they were barely able to do simple illusion spells like the one Gem just saw without being left utterly exhausted by their efforts. 

She watched several more performances after this, ranging from a man who juggled an armful of colourful balls, a woman who balanced herself on the tip of a tall, slim poll, a woman who sang a beautiful song accompanied by her husband’s lute, a man who did a magic trick involving balls of fire, and many more.

Hours had passed and the next performer was just about to come up onto the stage when Gem caught something out of the corner of her eye. A swish of red fabric that was all too familiar to her; one of the reasons she always preferred to stay on her toes. 

She inhaled sharply through her nose, sparks of anger already kindling in her chest as she whipped around to ensure it was who she thought it was, and without a doubt, it was him. There he was, standing there so close to the stage it would be no problem at all for him to climb upon it should he so wish to. He was eyeing the performer with an almost bored expression. Even with what little anonymity that stupid hood of his offered him, she would recognize him anywhere. 

She marched towards the person, her hand moving towards her sword despite knowing she could not, and would not, use it in such a crowded space. Not when so many innocent lives were at risk of getting caught in the crossfire.

His head turned in her direction, his inky black eyes lighting up with amusement as he spotted her, a smirk spread across his bird-like face. He turned away and took off into the crowd, and Gem gave chase without a second thought.

He weaved through the crowd faster and faster, seamlessly avoiding bumping into people as he moved in a way not too dissimilar to a snake in the grass. She shouldered past people, yelling quick apologies to those who shouted in protest as she tried to keep up with the smaller man, his distinctive red cloak being the only thing that allowed her to keep sight of him through the tightly packed crowd.

He led her all the way towards the bustling merchant’s area. This part of the festival was full of richly coloured fabrics that were folded neatly along the surface of the carts that sold them, and there was a large variety of rare clothing article, which hung from racks in tidy rows on either side of her, easy to knock down and cause a fuss should she not move carefully. The air was thick with perfumes and the smell of dye, the scent thick and almost overpowering to her hard-working lungs as she ran through the area with delicate movements. He threw her a devious smile over his shoulder as he ducked under a rack of brightly coloured scarves, which she darted around, knowing she would not make it under. 

She wasn’t a fool, she knew this was a game to him, and she wasn’t going to let him keep playing it.

The crowd was beginning to thin the further they got away from bustling city square, giving her the opportunity to increase her speed at last. Her armor rattled as she pushed herself to catch up to the nimble man, her blood rushing through her ears and her heart racing loudly. He attempted to duck into an alleyway, but she followed after before he could escape, turning sharply on her heels. She grabbed the back of his cloak, pulling him backwards and his hood down.

She ducked as a set of razor sharp talons ripped towards her face, messy pieces of her hair whipping past her field of vision as she grabbed the man’s wrist, bringing her palm up swiftly into his gut. He gasped as the air was knocked out of his small body. She took the opportunity to swing around into a kick, and her boot would have connected with his neck had he not raised his arms into a protective position in order to block the blow in the last moment. It was still enough to send him to the ground, however, and he hit the cobble with a bounce that sent him rolling.

He used the momentum to flip himself up into a crouching position, blood running down his chin from where he had presumably bit his tongue. His expression was still somewhat playful, but now had a much more serious glint to it. He kept his talons at the ready to counter Gem’s next attack, his body tense with anticipation. His sharp eyes were taunting her, waiting for her to make the next move as he always did.

“Grian.” She said, her hand on the hilt of her sword, ready to draw it at any moment.

“Commander” He said in turn, tilting his head unnaturally to the side, much like the owl he shared his attributes with.

“What are you doing here?” She asked, looking down her nose at him, her thumb inching her sword out of the sheath.

“Is it a crime to enjoy a national holiday like every other citizen in the kingdom?” He questioned in an almost teasing manner.

“Enough of your games! It is no mere coincidence that you would show up today of all days after months of silence.” Gem snapped, her shoulders rising in turn with the bubbling anger in her heart.

Grian, a slippery, troublemaking avian that she had been butting heads with on a near regular basis ever since she was a bright eyed squire fresh off of the snowy mountain she called home, eager to prove herself in her search for glory.  

He had made his entrance into her life in a flashy and grand fashion that was bound to leave an impression on just about anyone; an explosion in the castle's courtyard. It had been small, only enough to take out a tiny portion of the wall. It had been so clearly a distraction, but after years of war, it had been enough to cause a panic that only Gem had been levelheaded enough to power her way through. It was her quick wit that allowed her to act swiftly in the face of potential danger, and her friendly and outgoing personality that let her realize she’d never seen his face around the castle before and clock that he was an intruder. She’d taken him down before he was able to do whatever it was that he was planning to do inside of the castle, but he’d still managed to escape in the end.

Along with an increase in security and guards stationed on the outer walls, the royal army gained another knight that day. Ironic that it would be the man who would come to torment her any chance he could in the near future that would see to it that she was promoted early in her career.

They met many times after that first initial encounter, and with each one it only became obvious that his goal from the very beginning was to tear down the Wintertide royal bloodline at any cost and destroy the peace she tried so hard to protect. 

He sought to create chaos and disorder within the kingdom, and he would stop at nothing to see these goals met. It was only natural that they would become rivals, enemies that would be at constant odds with each other until the end of all things. Time and time again he would make his move against the royal family, and she was always there to put an end to it. It was an endless dance that they seemed to be trapped in indefinitely, for better or for worse.

As the years passed, he shifted his focus from the castle and the king to something else, something more attainable. He would commonly be found in the streets, yelling about injustices to anyone who would give him an ear. 

At first, no one would pay him any mind, and he would always make a break for it the second Gem showed up to put a stop to his public disturbances. Over time, however, as taxes were raised to cover the costs of damages done to the land and economy by the war, and tensions between their neighbouring kingdom rose yet again, his ideals slowly but surely gained more and more popularity. People were moved by his cause, rallied by a hatred for a monarchy they felt provided them very little protection or surety in their time of unrest. 

Suddenly he wasn’t a single person acting alone anymore; he was the leader of a group they had no way of knowing the scope of. 

They had tried to take him and his mysterious resistance down for years now, but by some feat of the gods they had managed to avoid detection, as well as capture, the entire time. Even now, it is unknown just how large his resistance is, or the names of those who operate within it, making it difficult to do anything in opposition to the group. They had only a few names for certain they could connect to him, but they have all been as untraceable as he. Every tip and clue that came Gem's way only led to empty houses and cellars with nothing but clearly fake plans and documents within them that led her and her men right back to where they had started; with nothing at all. 

All of this to say that he and his group are dangerous, effective people who should not be taken lightly, and his presence at The Festival of Good Tides bore nothing but ill tidings. 

The avian sighed in an overly dramatic, fake manner, no doubt playing it up to get a rise out of her. She was ashamed to admit that it worked.

“Fine, I suppose there is no point in hiding it from you,” He said, his face once again breaking into a wide smile, “I was looking for you, actually. I knew if I showed up to the festival you would find me within seconds and pursue me until you had me in your grasp.”

“And, why, in god's name, were you seeking to put yourself right into my hands? A bit of a foolish thing to do, if you ask me. You know as well as I do that you are no match for me, birdy.” She taunted. 

She swiftly pulled her sword from its sheath and put the tip of the blade to his unprotected neck. It was just long enough for her to close the distance between them without having to take so much as a step closer. His expression remained unbothered and playful, despite the obvious threats to his life.

“I wanted to give you a fair warning,” He replied cryptically.

“What in the hells does that mean?” She questioned, hackles once again rising.

“Something big is coming, Gem.” He answered. His eyes were wide and excited, almost manic even, as he said this. She had never seen him like this before in all her years knowing him.

“Something big? What in the blazes are you on about?” She asked, unease settling in her stomach like a heavy stone at the words

“You would do well to prepare yourself while you still can.” He said instead of giving her a real answer, “For all of our back and forth, I do not hate you. It would sure be a shame if something were to happen to you that could have been avoided.”

“Your mad rambles make little sense. Explain yourself before I have your head!” She threatened, pushing the tip of the sword against his throat further.

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you anymore than I already have, but you’ll find out in due time, believe in that. The end might be closer than you think.” He said, and her eyes widened, her mouth dropping open. 

He took advantage of her brief shock to sweep his leg out faster than she could react. The hard, scaly part of his taloned foot grabbed a hold of her sword’s blade and wrenched the weapon out of her hands, sending it to the ground with a metallic clatter. She shouted in alarm and leaped towards the fallen sword in an attempt to regain control of the situation, but before she could even get close, Grian pulled a bottle out from somewhere within his cloak and smashed it against the ground at her feet.

There was a flash and a popping noise following the shattering of the glass, and thick smoke billowed out around them, obscuring her vision and filling her nose with the overbearing smell of sulfur. Her eyes burned, watering fiercely as she coughed, trying to clear her lungs of the smoke.

She waved the air in front of her, looking around frantically for the avian but seeing not a single sign of him. There wasn’t so much as a feather on the ground, nor where there any footprints in the grime showing where he’d taken off to. All there was in the now vacant cobble alley was her sword, flat against the ground where it had fallen. 

“Gem!” She heard someone call out to her from behind.

She turned to find Impulse rushing towards her. He looked frantic, out of breath. A few other soldiers trailed behind him, visibly on edge as they looked around the smokey alley. Her old friend hurried to her side, grabbing her face and brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes as he turned her side to side to check for injuries. 

She pulled away from him, wordlessly moving over to her abandoned sword and picking it up from the ground. She examined the blade before turning her eyes up to the sky, where the smoke was still spiraling up towards the clear blue expanse. 

“The men that were stationed with you came to me in a frenzy and said you took off in a rush. They said may be in need of some help, and the thought of you of all people needing help against something on its own is a frightening, so I came as soon as I could.” Impulse said from behind her. “What happened?

“It was Grian.” She said, turning towards him. Then, as an afterthought, she tacked on, “And I didn’t need any help. You know me.”

“It hardly matters to me how strong you are, I will always worry for you regardless. It is in my nature.” He said with a smile, which dropped into a more serious look, “But, Grian, you say? Has he not been off the radar for months now? What’s he doing back in the capital on today of all day? Surely he is up to no good.”

She sheathed her sword, taking a moment to wonder if she should share the cryptid warning that the avian had given her. Her eyes flickered over to the nervous knights standing behind her friend. They were clearly new, fresh out of being squires if she had to take a guess. It was highly probable that they would panic upon hearing information such as this. Besides, anything pertaining to Grian and his resistance was more classified than what she was willing to share with just anyone. She would prefer to inform the king of the news, as well, and it was almost nightfall anyway so his arrival to the festival site was fast approaching. It was best she not have to repeat herself when handling such delicate information. You never know who may be listening.

“I think it would be wiser if I don’t share that with so many ears around. This is information better shared to a smaller group.” She informed him. He glanced back at the soldiers behind him and nodded in understanding.

“Let us return to the festival, this time with eyes and ears more focused.” She said, "If he shows his face again, he will not be getting away so easily a second time."

She turned on her heels and deftly made her way back towards the crowded square, the others following after all. She held her head high, posture straight and professional, but underneath the facade was a twisting feeling of unease that she couldn’t get rid of, and which threatened to force her lunch to make a second appearance. 

Her mind was racing, her chest was tight. What could her longtime rival have meant with that threat? No, that had been more of a promise than it had been a threat. But a promise of what, she didn’t know, and that is what scared her. Whatever it was that he had in store for the kingdom of Wintertide, he was so incredibly certain of its success that he was willing to seek her out to personally tell her of its existence. 

Either he was a fool, or there was something to truly worry about afoot, and something told her it was the latter since she had never known Grian to be a stupid man.

In fact he was quite the dangerous person. 

A harmless person could not gain the following and influence that he had over people in such a short time as he had. Even when the people above her had thought of him as little more than a fly buzzing in their ear, she had always taken every move he made seriously. She would be a fool herself not to treat him as the treat he really was. 

If anything, she was surprised it had taken so long for him to make his move. With the reach and numbers he seemed to have within the capital it was a wonder something “big” had yet to happen. Why now of all times? What was his game?

She looked over her shoulder at the abandoned alley one last time, her expression hardening into a determined glare. Even with her worry, she knew one thing for certain; whatever it may be that he was planning, she would put an end to it. 

He would not succeed. 

                                                ❀     ❀     ❀

“Was it necessary to toy with her like that?” His hooded companion asked from beside him, tone high and amused.

Grian stood upon the roof, the smoke bomb having given him just enough time to escape out of view. His cloak fluttered in the wind behind him and his hands clenched into fists, his sharp nails digging into his palms. His expression was blank, his black eyes watching as the commander of the royal army grew smaller the further she got from them. She’d almost seen him when she glanced back. Almost, but not quiet. 

“Not that I am complaining,” His companion pushed further upon not receiving a response, “It is rather funny, I must admit.”

“I am not toying with her,” He stated, not daring to take his eyes off of the commander until she was well out of view, “It was a real warning.”

“Even worse,” Was the reply, which was then followed by a laugh, “Now she’ll be wary, more prepared than she would have had you said nothing at all. I have to agree with the Commander on this one, Grian, this seems an odd move to make so early into the plan. After all of the work we put into this, it seems entirely counterproductive. Are you not worried she could put an end to this all before it has even begun?”

“Let her try and interfere,” He said, a smile spreading across his face as the wind picked up speed, “There will be no stopping what is to come.”