#Karmatic Vengeance

[kingbluetheamze1]

About 3,000 Genicode routes, 100 pacifist routes, 13 neutral routes. After the after the last fight in the original Genicode route, Sans became mad and started to do his own Genicode route.... until a mad who spoke in a language that only Sans and another person could understand, that Mad told him about the routes, the resets, and the true resets. Sans didn't want to kill his loved, Gaster told him that it wasn't going to work, that his Determination wasn't as power as the Human's determination.....that he could give him a other way to gain exp without hurting anyone in this world.

[butteronpancakes]

A Shared Sin

Most of us know by now the perception of Dan Feng is a constant battle between the sinner, a hero of the High Cloud Quintet and a person with "thoughts and feelings". Overall, the animated short, DHIL companion quest and some leaks supports the notion that Dan Feng was wanted to stop the mounting deaths from the war and break free of the burden of being high elder yet made some seriously questionable decisions in the process, leading to the entire sedition. Like Dan Heng, Dan Feng was an embodiment of human complexities despite being Imbibitor Lunae.

So it kind of irks me when Yingxing is sometimes portrayed as a victim or the somehow lesser of two evils in fanfic/fanart. Yes it's likely he was granted immortality against his consent and was stated to have been reluctant with the plan, but it does not negate the fact that he was an active participant in whatever Dan Feng did. Blade always claimed it was "THEIR sin" and "OUR debts need to be repaid" and wants DH to face karmatic retribution even if he doesn't know exactly what it entails due to fragmented memories and mara.

My point is Yingxing's character should be treated with the same morally ambiguous nuance as Dan Feng. After all, he originally came to the Xianzhou seeking vengeance and was possibly as determined to resurrecting the fallen following Baiheng's sacrifice. Or even if he didn't entirely agree with the plan, he trusted Dan Feng enough to see it through. Whether romantic or platonic these two probably bonded over similar stubborn mindsets and confidence in their abilities.

Blade has a complicated relationship with Yingxing in the same way Dan Heng does with Dang Feng. Both suffered the consequences and have to clean up messes made by their past lives.

[liliallowed]

BRO ok i was reading your tags and you mentioned crimson not having a DT soul, but a soul of Obsession, and i just giggled a bit at that and got excited hehehe.

i like seeing people play with concepts but EXPAND them yk??? like not being bound to them but using them to make you think

i have an au i’ve yet to share about (because it’s. so convoluted at this point and is being rewritten HEIDBDJ) but a big part of it has to do with soul traits and such, at least in regards to the humans right

like for example, one of the human characters has the trait of justice, meanwhile one of the antagonists (with relations to some of the mains) is Retribution.

Retribution is like…a corrupt justice. when you decide YOU define what is just, and you take that into your own hands, it becomes more about vengeance then what is right.

sans has karmatic abilities as well, which is sort of an in between…. fair vengeance, the vengeance isn’t for HIM, he’s moreso a vessel for what is fairly brought upon someone??

ANYWAYS IM RAMBLING, both the justice soul (and kinda sans actually) have to grapple with their similarities with said antagonist. several characters have to grapple with the positive traits they have and the negative or toxic paths those same traits could lead them down. patience turning to passivity. bravery to recklessness and pride, etc

ALL THAT TO SAY i was curious, do you see “obsession” as an evolution/ sub category/ branch OF a determination soul? the determination to push on towards this thing you are fixated on to an inhuman extent? the refusal to let go of this thing you are fixated on (which i find a cool concept because, undertale a message has a LOT to do with letting go…)

ANYWAYShope you don’t mind rambling in your inbox i just find ideas fun and want to hear yours if you’ll humor me HEE HOO

ramble away dear friend!

I love reading these ideas!

as for obsession, yeah it's more like an evolution of determination.

I think there was a post about moral traits being used in excess can corrupt into harmful behavior...

ambition => obsession was one of the given examples.

but well crimson started with determination.

it's like muddied water. its been left to rot away.

but the water NEEDS to move or it will fade away so it spirals around it's contained pool into a whirlpool.

(idk if that allegory made sense but yea)

crimson NEEDS to constantly push themself. Ben if there's nothing to gain. even if their story has already been told.

you are correct! crimson's issues is mainly the lack of closure. the inability to let go.

they TRIED severing the bonds so dear to them by killing everyone but that only made them want to stay to suffer with them instead.

trivia:

obsession has a stronger density than a normal DT soul.

like it can take on 4-5 other human souls (not 6 tho. that's beyond them)

so you'd have to absorb not one not two but six or seven human souls to over power this bich's DT.

obsession also allows them to [refuse] death once, every 24 hours without a reset. even if you take away their reset they won't die that easily.

obsession has a higher LV cap than determination. it maxes out at 50 and can absorb [self inflicted pain] to boost the number up. if there's no one left to kill there's still ways to increase that LV. and their soul is one tank of an endurant killing mechine.

a direct jab at their soul won't kill them.

cutting their head off won't kill them (instantly at least. if they use a healing item in a minute or so their vessel would glitch back to a normal form.)

they're a lot like a zombie minus the infection part that can spread and the slowness and dullness of a shambling corpse. they're fucking FAST.

obsession can allow puppeteering powers and psychological manipulation through [ACT] but crimson doesn't use it. they think it's cowardly and they want to do things "legit".

if there WAS a new foe out there though... they have many abilities they don't use on dust to face them.

[thenightling]

The "Fluffy Buffy Religion."

When people complain about the religion of Wicca there are usually one of three reasons.

1. "Cultural appropriation." Never mind that all variations of Neo Paganism are cobbled together from scraps of old religions.

2. "It's too much like Catholicism." I do see the similarities and they do not bother me. 3. "It's too environmentalist." Environmentalism (respect and reverence for nature) has always been a semi-unspoken keystone to Wicca. There's a reason the Wiccan Goth rock band "The Hex Girls" in Scooby Doo and The Witches' Ghost are referred to as Eco-Goths. Being an environmentalist is practically a side-effect of the spiritual belief. It's unavoidable.

4. "It's the Fluffy Bunny Religion." This comes from a few things. The first and biggest being that the main rule of Wicca is "The Wiccan Rede" and that is "Harm none do as thou wilt." Sometimes worded as "And it harm none, do as ye will." The first version I listed is more grammatically correct for the Middle English wording that was intended but the second version has a full poem attached to it, written in the 1970s, thus leading to its popularity.

The Wiccan Rede is very similar to a doctor's Hippocratic Oath. Some argue that it is different because of the "Do as thou wilt" part but really its not different at all, because that's already implied in the Hippocratic version and so long as there's no harm, the rest is acceptable. Harm can be counted as physical, emotional, or psychological, to a person or property. The Wiccan Rede is mostly in regard to willful and deliberate harm.

One can argue that it still allows for evil but I can't think of anything evil, malicious, or cruel that isn't doing some sort of harm.

If you realize all evil acts (Violence, theft, willful cruelty, deliberately hurting others feelings, property damage, etc...) are all forms of harm, then you understand The Wiccan Rede.

Other factors of "The Fluffy Bunny religion" include the prevailing belief in Karma and Karmatic justice and or the rule of three, that anything you do comes back to you three times over.

The belief in Karma or Karmatic justice (which is also in Buddhism) is similar to The Golden Rule ("Do unto others as you'd have them do unto you.") or even the rule of equivalent exchange or Newton's third law (applied in physics). "For every action there is an equal but opposite reaction."

There's a popular saying among practitioners "Sage won't protect you against Karma."

It's weird how many innately vindictive people seem to think others must be like them. Vengeance is harm. Vindictiveness is *NOT* allowed by Wiccans. And to those with vindictive and cruel inclinations reading this, WE ARE NOT ALL LIKE YOU! YOUR PERCEPTIONS ARE WARPED! AND ARE NOT CONDONED BY THOSE WHO ACTUALLY HAVE A SENSE OF RIGHT AND WRONG! So, yes, combining the Environmentalist aspect of Wicca with the commonly accepted implied pacifism nature of the Wiccan Rede and faith in Karma / Karmatic justice - Yes, I suppose you could call it the Fluffy Bunny religion and... I don't care. The world is rough and mean enough. Not everything has to be.

Sincerely - Someone following the "Fluffy Bunny Religion."

[existentialmagazine]

Review: TASH’s newest fiery single ‘Dead’ channels thunderous alternative-rock with a message of building resentment come unleashed

Since her striking pop-metal release ‘When The Lights Cut Out’ last month, the upcoming weapon of a solo artist TASH has not been slowing down. After her time in a band for the previous few years, TASH has amassed not just experience creating music but developed a storming stage presence she never fails to release at full force, a true fiery spirit deserving of every play and sold-out show we’re sure will be coming her way. Now wielding her second offering of the year ‘Dead’, TASH is just as bold as ever with what she has to offer, and it’s only going to keep paying off.

Slowly building into its bombastic sound, ‘Dead’ grows with a progressively thunderous bassline beside fuzzy, distorted pulsating synth, aggressive drum beats and a snippet of vocals, a heightened moment that introduces the track’s shattering impact before the first verse settles to a temporary calm. Slipping into just steady drums and intermittent bass twangs, the sound takes a moment to push TASH’s vocals front and centre, an almost heavenly parallel to the song’s devastating undertones in her more agile higher range. It’s not long before things pick back up in almost EDM-esque rise in electronic throbbing beats for the pre-chorus, coming completely undone for a climactic wall of sound incorporating shredding electric guitar, violent drums and continued striking bass, all intertwined with TASH’s more dominantly sung lines that grab your attention without even trying. Though her storytelling excels it’s impressive how much you can gather the narrative of the track through just sound alone, with the harshness of ‘Dead’s evolution feeling just as poignant as TASH’s words, an experience worth both understanding and listening along to for every twist and turn.

Paired with this groundbreaking sound, TASH doesn’t hesitate to offer yet another passionately burning narrative seeping through every second of ‘Dead.’ Telling her own dark anthem of growing frustrations, feeling unheard and the uncontrollable anger that builds within that period of bottled up resentment, ‘Dead’ spills out a story of the more menacing thoughts that can start to present themselves through the duration of a one-sided toxic relationship or friendship that burns in its under-appreciation. Marking the end of things, TASH from the get-go sings ‘there’s no going back, to redo what we had’ , declaring the conclusion of their intertwined paths with an emptiness you can’t help but hear the burnt-out levels of emotion behind. As the chorus only further adds fuel to the fire, TASH’s lyricism announces ‘I hate all that you say, one day when you wake up you’ll be dead’, revealing her displeasure towards their entire existence, a once love-filled relationship turned sour and carrying nothing but pure hatred moving forward. Ironically as she feels stabbed in the back, the chorus hook quite wittily sings ‘I’m sitting on the corner of the bed, ‘cause I stabbed you in the neck’, a continual metaphor raging throughout for seeking justice and vengeance. An almost bitter statement of her progression hits the hardest though, soaking her distaste through the line ‘it’s not me, it’s you… sucked all of my life away, I’ll return the favour’, seeking her own revenge and karmatic justice after being put through hell and back to maintain what they had for nothing. TASH always knows how to tell a story and ‘Dead’ is no exception, though dark and borderline psychotic, you can’t help but be gripped by every word and find yourself dancing out all of your own built-up vexations.

The music video vividly paints the scene with a horrific depiction of TASH completely out of control and covered in blood sat on the bed behind a lifeless body. With a projector covering the walls and her stained white dress, you can’t help but be completely mesmerised while equally troubled by the scenes, a remarkably brilliant yet disturbing presence all around.

Check out ‘Dead’ here to feel the true weight of TASH’s smashing sound and impassioned lyrical unravellings!

Written by: Tatiana Whybrow

Photo Credits: devplacephotos

// This coverage was created via Musosoup, #SustainableCurator.

[deafchild2000]

Uma, daughter of the sea witch, Ursula, and late Captain of the Flying Dutchman, Davy Jones.

Blessed Champion of Calypso.

Thanks to @coco-rena, @ishiphumasohard, @whats-a-queen-without-a-king and @eriskind.

By chance, I had come across some interesting comments about how Uma is actually the daughter of Calypso and Davy Jones (of the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise respectively) rather than being Ursula's daughter.

And that got me thinking: Instead of her being either one, why not both?

Imagine: In a world of Pre-Auradon, there was some truth and the events of Dead Man's Chest is canon.

But first, go further back to the events of The Little Mermaid. In a world where, yes, Ursula and Triton are siblings.

Ursula is a sea witch, a very powerful one with a high reputation in her contractual magic. Merpeople come to her because she promises them whatever they want, but the price if not met, lands them in her garden as polyps. It's a dark reputation and she reaps the benefits, plus , she could say she's not in the wrong because of her magic contracts being binding.

But now, her reputation catches through the wind and waves before ending up in the ears of Calypso, the sea goddess herself. And because the ocean has no concepts of right and wrong, just calm and stormy seas, the goddess invites herself to visit the Cecaelia with her own eyes.

Now Ursula, for all her flaws (and there were many) wasn't stupid enough to go head-to-head with a sea goddess. She may be powerful, but it they were nothing against an ancient deity that rules the very seafloor she inhabited! She was intelligent, charismatic, and cunning. She would use all of her wits to survive the visit!

And so when the Calypso and Ursula met face to face in the latter's lair, the sea goddess saw right through her. But nevertheless, she sees somethimg in the the Cecaelia something about the sea witch impressed her, enough that Ursula garnered her favor and that she was gifted with a small, ancient treasure as well: The infamous, enchanted Nautilus necklace. Calypso advices her that the necklace allowed the wearer to capture the sounds of the oceans and manipulate them at any wish.

(Recall how Urula took Ariel's voice then used it to hypnotize Eric? The lore behind hearing the ocean in a seashell? Scientifically proven that the seashells just amplify noise around them, as well as music being used for Hypnosis being a real thing.)

Not for a second going to reject the gift, Urusla praises her and swears to use the bestowed necklace upon her wisely while promising to continue practicing witchcraft in her name. After they depart, unbeknownst to the sea goddess, the next time she meets up with her beloved cursed pirate, Davy Jones, she'd be cursed and trapped within the human body of Tia Dalma.

Years later, after the events of Dead Man's Chest and Calpyso is freed, she's saddened that her favored sea witch has passed on, and with her newly reaquanted powers of the ocean carried memories, the tale of her demise came with it. The goddess could have easily chosen to resurrect Ursula, but with Davy Jones' demise still fresh, she decided to leave it to the Fates on what to do next.

Which would not be long when the King Adam of the newly-founded United States of Auradon, with the help of Fairy Godmother, resurrected the fallen villains in preparation to banish them to the Isle of the Lost.

Sensing the rebirth of Ursula, Calypso sought out the imprisoned cecaelia, shackled by magic-binding cuffs in her cell beneath Triton's Bay. While despite being vengeful and in a sour mood, Ursula recognized she was powerless and defeated. Surprised at the goddess's visit, Calypso asked if she repented her actions.

Ursula said no, and while she is vengeful, she does not see any future for herself. Seeing the pitiful cecaelia, a far cry from the once powerful witch she once was, Calypso offered a deal: A possible redeemable future in exchange for a powerful champion in her name.

Ursula was confused. A champion? In Calypso's name?

For Ursula was no fool. She had a vague idea as to what Calypso meant by "champion".

But the former sea witch was on borrowed time before she got shipped to the Isle. What the goddess was offering was a chance she never considered. Could she really have a future, one not wrought with vengeance for the past?

Ursula agreed and took the deal. And in result, Calypso produced a small golden shard on string. But not just any shard, from the hum of the magic Ursula felt, it was a piece of the shattered Nautilus necklace destroyed in the final battle with Princess Ariel!

Calypso adviced that only her champion could find and restore the necklace to its former glory. But it would be different. While attaining it's former abilities, it's powers would grow fit for her champion. Only for her champion.

For Calypso wasn't stupid. She knew that once on that isle, no magic aside from the barrier could be used unless outside if it. Even if the necklace was put together, it would be useless until her champion was on the other side. She smiled inwardly. A powerful champion was fitting for the irresputible karmatic result King Adam will bring with resurrecting the dead for ill cause. Unlike her entrapment and bringing Sparrow and Barbossa back, the king's was pure selfishness that would not go unpunished.

All she had to do was wait.

Placing the shard around Ursula's neck, Calypso forced Ursula to drink a vial...the vial the contained the last remaining human blood of her beloved Davy Jones. She began reciting a ancient incantation, her power taking form of a glowing, watery orb in which she induced her blessing before shoving inside Ursula's uterus.

Almost as soon as it started, both Ursula and Calypso felt the power inside the former take place. The sea goddess then bid the cecaelia farewell and went back into the ocean.She had done her part.

As for Ursula, who was later in shipped to the Isle of the Lost that day, felt her remaining powers stripped from her once inside the barrier, she had a strong superstition that Calypso's power was still at worked.

And 9 months later, that power resulted in a baby girl named Uma.

By the time of her birth, Ursula had established a restaurant and did the best she could. Ursula knew that aside from her late eels, Flotsam and Jetsam, she didn't have a mothering bone in her body. But she knew one thing: Her child, unlike the newborn daughter of Maleficient, will have to work for everything she has when she gets older. She wont coddle her! Her pain will make her stronger. She'll build a strong reputation just like her mother. Everything Ursula has, will be stronger and better in Uma!

She has to be...for she is the Champion of Calypso.

[firstginger]

monster quiz results 3/5

dryad Your bloodline is indubitably tied to a dryad. Whether you believe one of your direct relatives is a dryad or whether your dryad ancestor has been lost to time, the diluted blood of the forest still beats in you. Descendants of dryads are naturally shy individuals, typically very introverted and lost in their imaginations. They have a sentimental heart that is impassioned by their private interests, creative and artistic in nature, as they tend away from concrete matters. Ultimately they are easygoing people and pleasant though their sensitivity over their inner thoughts makes them not easy to get to know — the sort who is often a beloved acquaintance, but a true gift to befriend.

Your nature may illuminate what type of dryad your ancestor was.

Meliai: Self-sacrificing and protective, of the ash tree Oreiade: Assertive and boundary-keeping, of the mountain tree Epimeliad: Truthful and loving, of the apple tree Daphnaie: Noble and successful, of the laurel tree

giant Your bloodline is indubitably tied to a giant. Whether you believe one of your direct relatives consorted with a giant or whether your giant ancestor has been lost to time, the diluted blood of the mountains still beats in you. Descendants of giants may have lost their predecessors' size, though they retain their extreme resilience and endurance in the face of adversity. These individuals are routinely thick-skinned with a big picture perspective that may characterize them as unobservant; in actuality, they simply are more concerned with a broader point of view rather than day-to-day menial activities. They are even-tempered and slow to upset, but prone to fierce tempers or long-lasting grudges when irritated.

Your reaction under stress may illuminate what type of giant your ancestor was. Stone: Prone to denying, values strength Hill: Prone to repressing, values pleasantry Frost: Prone to isolating, values rationality Volcanic: Prone to exploding, values passion

unseelie fairy Your bloodline is indubitably tied to an unseelie fairy. Whether you believe one of your direct relatives is a fairy or whether your fairy ancestor has been lost to time, the diluted blood of the fey still beats in you. Descendants of any fairy are energetic, temperamental, and crave stimulation, though those of the Unseelie Court are more pessimistic and inclined towards ambition and evaluation than their counterparts. Their reputation may mark them as self-serving, though like their predecessors they simply have an edge for competition and a savviness that makes them excel wherever they dip their toes. These individuals choose their words carefully and delight in feeling in control.

Your manner and heart may illuminate what unseelie court your ancestor belonged to. Winter: Sensible and logical, aesthetic of frost Autumn: Mysterious and cunning, aesthetic of wind Solitary: Independent and conflicted, aesthetic of penumbra

banshee Your bloodline is indubitably tied to a banshee. Whether you believe one of your direct relatives is a banshee or whether your banshee ancestor has been lost to time, the diluted blood of the undead still beats in you. Descendants of banshees are shrouded with an air of pessimism and anxiety; they have deep intuition, and react accordingly to their gut feelings. However one could not find a more devoted companion. These individuals are committed to their loved ones and have an instinctive duty to protect them, known for boundless loyalty once someone has won their heart. Their dismal perspectives make them hard to get to know, though to them, they are simply being realistic.

Your mannerism may illuminate what type of banshee your ancestor was. Bean Sidhe: Communal, bleeding heart Bean Nighe: Independent, reserves kindness

sylph Your bloodline is indubitably tied to a sylph. Whether you believe one of your direct relatives is a sylph or whether your sylph ancestor has been lost to time, the diluted blood of the air still beats in you. Descendants of sylphs are playful and easygoing, often enamored with love and the sweeter things of life. Troubles roll naturally off of them and they are never burdened for long; they live entirely in the present, indulging their emotions as they come, and not a moment longer. Their reputation for being mischievous arises from their penchant to wring all they can out of life — for them, a lifetime of laughter and breathless wonder is all they ask for.

Your nature may illuminate what type of sylph your ancestor was. Boreal: Reserved and intelligent, the north wind Eurus: Kind and generous, the east wind Auster: Emotional and boisterous, the south wind Zephyr: Romantic and passionate, the west wind

harpy Your bloodline is indubitably tied to a harpy. Whether you believe one of your direct relatives consorted with a harpy or whether your harpy ancestor has been lost to time, the diluted blood of the raptor still beats in you. Descendants of harpies are known to be quick-tempered and shrewd, typically confident in themselves with a strong sense of karmatic justice. It is not in their nature to hold their tongue; these individuals are vocal in their opinions and emotions and seek to live a life as true to themselves as possible. There is often a thin line between love and hate with them: they are ruled by passion and vengeance, and once you have wronged these souls, there is little you can do to fall back into their good graces and beneath their fierce protection again.

Eagle: Confident and a leader, despises cowardice Vulture: Opportune and an observer, despises vanity Falcon: Precise and a doer, despises laziness Owl: Calculating and a thinker, despises hypocrisy

1, 2, 3, 4, 5

[hueieve]

he was bound to be debiliated by years of raging wars against evil gods; whose take was to rob him his innocence and gentleness by forcing blood thirst into his hands until he was left astray alone with the weight of his sins. the remnants of their grudges stayed close to the mortal realm and this shall never depart from his frail figure too. where the moon shines the least, he conquers every evil spirit with his strength kindling from the dead embers of his truth.

bane of all evil.

he was referred as that in his millennia-long experience while shouldering the burden of protecting the land of liyue. his power is highly looked upon by other adepti and brings out intimidation to the eyes of the clueless, defeating every awakened cursed and evil manifestations in this world for only combat is what he can use for to repay his debt of gratitude to the geo archon— the liberator of his cruel old days.

" in the fables of another world, the name xiao is that of a spirit who encountered great suffering and hardship. he endured much suffering, as you have. use this name from now on. "

and slowly he was rid from his ignorance to being serene. yet the evil gods still held immense power, their vengeance diluting those who opposed them. he relentlessly fractures their manifestations until these fragments of hatred soiled the yaksha's soul. accepting the karmatic debt was the only way to unbound him from shackles but the magnitude of karma he has accumulated all those years are enough to consume his flesh, soul, and all the alike. limitless hate flows through his senses that engraves him into a bed of anguish.

yet he showed no sign of antipathy against it. having lived for two thousand years, karmatic dept constitutes nothing but a fleeting memory. his battles were never in vain but nor is it called a won war either. after all, he is ultimately wrestling with himself.

[joocin-thebox]

Might as well give a few OCs for reference

We'll start with Snoozie

A witty little earth pony who loves bubble baths and sleeping

Next there's Sparrowstreak

A friendly member of Starclan, Windclan's old medicine cat. She's quite reserved but grows fond of other cats quickly.

Caitlyn

A sweet girl, short and gullible. She's skeptic regardless. You'll have to be her best friend for her to not second guess your actions.

Dalia and Camille

Dalia is a big flirt, but only to get what she wants. Upset or scare her sister and you'd better have your will written out. Camille is a shyer, more cautious version of Dalia, she cares most for her sister's well being, more hesitant with violent vengeance.

Timberthroat

A generally sweet Thunderclan tom. Very helpful, very insightful. Loves sharing his opinion, and often more realistic than optimistic or pessimistic.

Rina

A short little cat with a heart of gold and paws full of energy. Sensitive and often accused for doing things she hasn't simply because she smiles when telling the truth.

Quince

Tough skinned, easily annoyed. Qualified as Autumn and Rina's best friend, but she'll deny it. One of the Oasis Guardians, along with Autumn. Not one for jokes.

Karmatic

A tall mare prone to accidents and messing up. Very eccentric and clumsy. Apologizes after almost everything, even before saying hi. Soft and fluffy, values her personal space.

Beetlespot

A fired insect scientist trying philosophy. Stressed and constantly focused on one thing always. Takes time out of her day to be with her little sister but goes right back to work afterwards.

Maddison

A fox with a strained heart and mind. Haunted by her decisions, orphaned out of self defense. Nightmares constantly, making her an insomniac. Would give her life to protect Shaylie and Kalah. Criminal of the overworld and the afterlife.

[flightyrock]

Ectober Day 6: Ghost Hunger

I owe everyone a bit of an explanation before we dive into this fever dream.  Yes, I know exactly what ghost hunger refers to, but it just isn’t my thing.  It’s a neat concept, but I don’t really find it fun to write for, or even read, except in the rarest of cases.  I can stand it if it advances an innovative plotline, but just for its own sake…meh.

So I didn’t have any idea what I was going to do for day 6.  I considered skipping it, but that felt like admitting defeat.  With this in the back of my mind, I was scrolling through tumblr, as one does, and found this lovely piece by @schnivel.

One of my favorite things about schnivel’s style is the dynamic quality all of his characters have. I don’t know how to explain it, but it draws the viewer in, and sells that these characters are real. ��Complex emotions are portrayed and conveyed with such ease, I get that creative itch every time.  I love everything in your art tag, it makes me so happy.  Thank you for sharing!

But anyway.  In this particular piece, I love the angle of the external light and the ambient light radiating from the suspiciously viscous fluid clinging to his hands.  I think it was the combination of the fluid consistency, color choice, and blood connection that did it.

So as my mind tends to do when I’m tired and see something emotionally charged, it took a running nosedive off the deep end into absurdist territory.

So here is a fic inspired by color choice, texture, and my traumatic experiences with product promotion as a child of the 90s and early 2000s.  I am so sorry but also kind of not.  Please forgive me, schnivel.  Thank you so much for letting me ruin the mood.  And seriously, check out schnivel’s blog!

 (Sorry for all the notes.  Commentary at the end.)

Summary:  When a popular variety of novelty ketchup is discontinued, the ghost population of Amity Park clashes over who will claim the last box.

Warnings:  Customer service feels, light innuendo

Word Count: ~1700

“You do realize that’s disgusting,” Sam deadpanned, looking on with a mixture of mild horror and disgust as Danny smothered his hotdog in a quantity of green slime that could only be defined as excessive.  Somehow it was impossible to turn away.  Tucker didn’t seem to share the sentiment, busying himself with his PDA.

Spurred on by the attention, Danny looked Sam dead in the eyes, staring unflinchingly into their icy, amethyst depths while cramming as much of the sandwich into his mouth as possible.

Only to aim a tad low, bumping into his lower lip.  Time seemed to slow down as blue eyes widened comically in surprise, hand contracting around the bun reflexively, coaxing gobs of the novelty ketchup to ooze out the back and coat the front of his favorite t-shirt, soaking into white fabric with karmatic vengeance.

Sam and Tucker witnessed the following shift from shock to sudden horror at the state of his shirt became clear.  They glanced at each other, unprompted, then lost it completely, howling with laughter as Danny dropped his ‘dog to scrub frantically at his chest with a wad of the worse-than-useless paper napkins the school provided that screamed government subsidy. His response time was impressive, but the damage was done: a prominent, verdant dribble trail clearly illustrated the tragedy that unfolded at lunch that day.

“Are you kidding me? I still have half the day to go,” Danny moaned, hands running anxiously through already messy hair.

��Just phase it off!” Tucker pointed out helpfully, returning to his PDA as chuckles died down into amused sympathy.

“Tuck, intangibility doesn’t remove stains.  It’s set too far in the fabric.  Otherwise laundry would be so much easier.  Hmm.” Danny took a moment to consider the potential, wondering if that was how Vlad managed to keep his ghostwear so pristine. Maybe if he could concentrate his focus…

“You had it coming.  I don’t understand why you insist on consuming that promotional garbage.” Sam rolled her eyes derisively.

“Because it’s the best!” Danny insisted.  Sam and Tucker shared a look, resigned to their friend’s strange obsession.

Danny didn’t know what it was, but ever since that popular condiment brand out of Pittsburgh developed a line of novelty ketchup, he was hooked.  It came in all sorts of unappetizing colors, like green and purple, and the cringe-worthy ad campaign made Danny wonder if the whole thing was an elaborate prank.  But it eventually showed up at the discount food distributer his family frequented, and he bought it himself, despite Jazz’s teasing.  Funny.  He swears he’s caught her using it more than once when she thought he wasn’t around.

While Jazz was exasperated by the blatant exploitation of the mindset of the lower middle working class, Sam objected to the artificial dyes and preservatives, and Tucker insisted it was nothing less than an insult to the integrity of meat, whatever that was supposed to mean. Maybe the dye makes it taste a bit different.  Maybe he just gets a kick out of eating food in weird colors and watching his friends squirm.  Heck, maybe he’s just been desensitized by enough mutant, home-cooked meals that something so harmless but strange fills him with nostalgia.  Whatever the case, Danny couldn’t seem to get enough of the stuff.  He even started taking it to school with him as a fun way to avoid looking too closely at what was on his tray.  

“Uh oh, dude,” Tucker chuckled, bringing up a specific news article on his PDA.  “Looks like your days of ruining hot dogs are numbered.”

“You’re kidding. Please tell me you’re kidding,” Danny begged.

“Afraid not,” Tucker grinned, sliding his tech across the table to deliver the news firsthand.

Blue eyes widened in horror, before the teenager collapsed onto the table dramatically with a moan. “Why is it that as soon as I discover something awesome, it’s gone?”

“Honestly, that’s probably why it appeared on the shelves at Hubert’s in the first place,” Sam remarked flippantly, preferring to pick at chipping nail polish than acknowledge the lump of pouting teenager currently occupying half the table.

“Yeah, brand names are always too good to be true in places like that,” Tucker nodded sagely, patting Danny on the shoulder in mock sympathy.

Danny hauled himself upright with a sigh.  “Nothing else for it.  I’ll just have to go after school and stockpile all the bottles I can.  They can’t be out yet.”

“How are you out?!  It was just here less than a week ago!”

But the dramatics of a ketchup-crazed teenager were no match for the practiced apathy projected by the young but seasoned customer service guru manning the register, six hours into a ten hour shift.  

“Look, man, I just work here.  There’s plenty of purple,” she sighed, glazed eyes carelessly roaming to glace at the condiments section, poking at her monitor screen.

“It doesn’t taste the same,” Danny moaned, prompting a significant look to pass between the duo accompanying him. They had no idea why they thought it would be a good to tag along on this juvenile side quest.  This was just embarrassing.

“Huh,” the cashier remarked offhandedly.  “Looks like we might have one more box in the back.  I’ll go check, if you want…” she trailed off unenthusiastically, distracted by the hopefully bobbing shock of black hair that wouldn’t leave her alone unless she made a show of effort.  With a long-suffering sigh, the underpaid civil servant shuffled off to the back, teenagers at her heels until she ducked behind a wildly swinging door, a scuffed sheet of plastic shoved haphazardly into the gateway in a pathetic effort to separate customer-friendly space from the chaos of the warehouse.

The friends waited attentively, then with growing annoyance, Sam scuffing the chipping tile with heavy boots as the minutes ticked by.  Around fifteen minutes in, Tucker decided to call it.

“I think she just blew you off, dude.”

“No way,” Danny insisted. “She’s just being thorough.”

At that moment, a familiar figure slouched out from behind the off-white mockery of a barrier. Danny drooped visibly at the lack of bottles in her arms.

“Welp, I found it.”  Danny perked up.  “Where is it?”

“In the back.”  She continued to amble through the aisles, not even bothering to glance at the irritating customer as she returned to the front.  Danny followed her, confused.

“And?” he ventured.

“What?” she asked, uncapping a company pen to doodle on a scrap of receipt paper, pointedly ignoring the nuisance in the vain hope it would leave her in peace.

Danny barely restrained himself in time to prevent throwing his arms up in exasperation.  “Can I have some?” he dared to ask.  The girl acted like she didn’t hear him, outlining a cartoonish face with care, allowing him to stew for a while.

She finally raised hazel orbs full of resignation to meet his.  “You somehow manage to get it down, you can just have it.”  The just leave me alone was implied.  Heavily.

Danny lit up.  “Really?”

“Yeah, yeah,” she waved him away, returning to her receipt sketch.

“Thanks!” Danny called over his shoulder, already on his way to claim his prize.

“That was kind of weird,” Sam observed.

“Oh, come on Sam, why do you have to be so pessimistic all the time?  She probably couldn’t reach it.  All Danny has to do is float up to the shelf, and we’re out of here,” Tucker said, confidently leading the way into the dark space, the main light coming from a desk equipped with a dated microwave and littered with the remains of hurried lunches.

It was kind of weird being behind the scenes.  The air felt heavy, stale.  It was difficult to shake the uneasy feeling that they dismissed, at first, with being in a restricted area, but that quickly faded into the background.

A puff of cold air suddenly expanded, forcing its way up a certain ghostly throat and expelling in a bluish cloud as it forced vapor in the surrounding air to condense.

“Nice going, Tuck,” Sam punched him lightly in the shoulder.

Danny ignored the exchange, quickly “going ghost” and floating up to investigate.  And was not at all surprised to find the Lunch Lady and the Box Ghost playing a less-than-friendly game of tug-of-war with the box of sauce.  Okay, maybe he was surprised; he didn’t know either of them had a subtle bone in their bodies…if they had bones.  Or bodies. Gah.

He was honestly kind of impressed that they had avoided detection for so long, and wondered if the cashier’s composure spoke to her merit, or to the horrors of customer service. Danny resolved to be nicer to customer service associates.

From there, it was “doom” this and “beware” that.  Danny threw some ectoblasts, repelled some processed meat products, brushed off some boxes.  It was amazing how much more annoying the two of them were working together.  But, still, not even really a challenge, so the half ghost made short work of the duo, while trying not to think too hard about the implications of this team up.  A certain young ghost from an alternate future came to mind…

Danny chased the pair off, trying not to think about the two of them sharing a thermos.  He was all too glad to claim his prize and head home. It had been an interesting afternoon.

Despite the strange start, the pair of friends thought that the day was pretty successful.  As a result, neither Tucker nor Sam were expecting the caricature of despair that greeted them on the front steps of Fenton Works come morning.  

“Dare we ask?” Sam muttered.

Tucker sighed, shaking his head.  “He’ll let us know soon enough.”

Somewhere in Wisconsin, a certain blue-skinned half ghost emerged from his portal, shiftily checking the entrance before ducking through with his prize.

What am I doing?  I live alone.

Still, one could never be too careful.  It wouldn’t do to have Daniel catch wind of this.  He certainly would never admit it, but he couldn’t help the strange nostalgia it inspired; the off-putting color instilled him with a strange longing for cheap meals of questionable quality cooked with a certain pair of paranormal science students.  He still had his dignity after all.

A/N:  Anyone who’s ever worked retail knows the best way to get rid of a persistent customer and score an extra break in the process is to “check” the back.  Seriously, most places know what they have in the back due to the magic of inventory, but for some reason, that middle-aged woman with too much makeup will not leave us alone, insisting we check the back because she thinks we’re idiots (you know the type). And how dare we come back without checking thoroughly.  The cashier probably found the ketchup in less than a minute, determined retrieval was impossible, then spent the rest of the time on her phone.  Of course, like 10% of the time, there really is extra in the back so I can’t exactly fault them, but we could do without the condescension.

So…yeah.  I think my mind kind of mashed together the fact that the show took place in the 2000s with the fact that ketchup looks vaguely like blood, and the drawing used the two major colors of Heinz’s horrendous EZ Squirt line.  As a child who begged for this ketchup, then refused to eat it, I can understand the initial appeal, but it got gross fast, and I didn’t finish the bottle. What can I say, it tasted off to me. I feel like I read about some human instinct regarding food safety contributing to that at some point.  But I still remember this product, especially the commercials, with horror.

Thank you so much to @schnivel for the inspiration!  Hope everyone enjoyed it!

[postitnowke]

Fearful for his health obviously, but even greater was the fear for the journey of his soul. Even as a child he'd known he wasn't the best behaved of youths. He had been angry and often offended by the way both his peers and the adults around them treated him. His thirst to prove himself and his easily wounded pride had made him prone to secret acts of vengeance upon those he felt wronged him. He might have been seen as easy prey but his pride had been stomped on far too many times to put up with it from people who were only marginally better off than him.This hadn't meshed well with the religious beliefs he'd followed during this period of time. He'd heard elders comment that his handicap was a result of either sins his mother committed or karmatic injuries from a past life. Long days and nights helping his mother complete menial tasks for their employers and the horror that came later gave him plenty of time for introspection. What was said left him terrified for his own fate after death. He didn't know what crimes he'd committed to earn him the punishment to have been cursed since birth, but these people were from different walks of life. It hadn't mattered which as the different religions had all seen his handicap as somehow being a punishment or 'the order of he had hated the weakness with which he'd been born. If a lesson was meant to have been learned from the weakness in his body he had not found the answer. He'd always been consciously aware of how different he walked compared to others. He'd hated thinking that his infirmity made him more susceptible to weakness, ridicule, and possibly death if someone took it to their minds that the cub known by all as "the lame one" needed to be taught his place, which was to say, that he had none in thid life at all. Foolishly, he'd thought that once he was shed of his wretched coat of mortality, it would erase a thousand unspeakable pains life had given him that was at the root of his fear. He'd been wrong, of course. Even as he lost his theological perspective on life he had not been granted peace of mind. It had only made things worse as he'd been given further opportunities be sickened of the life he lived and disgusted by the people who surrounded him. Once he might have thought this impossible. All things considered his worldview had been damn grim to begin with. Growing up in Bombay(or Mumbai as it was now known), he'd grown accustomed to the knowledge that no one was ever safe. The Bubonic epidemic had started when he was but two years of age, and he would be two and twenty when it had 'ended' in 1914. The horror of disease had been palpable in every walk of life. Thousands were dying in the streets and it had seemed like the act of an angry god visiting their wrath upon the wretched souls that were living in the Kali Yuga, the most terrible of the four cyclical ages. He had been lucky and survived the disease himself. Inspired by Walter Charles Rand's actions in Prune(which had led directly to WCR's assassination), their master, the Sahib, had decided to lock them all in together, effectively putting the servants quarters into quarantine. He and his wife had then sent their children home to be watched by family members in England. His actions were understandable after their eldest daughter had contracted the disease and died shortly afterwards. Regardless of how he treated his servants, it was obvious he loved his children and hadn't wanted to risk their other four pups. The master himself had little choice but to remain. He was stationed at the military contentment and could not leave until he had either resigned his post or his commanding officer was willing to issue an order to allow him to evacuate. His wife had refused to abandon him despite the danger, and so the two had remained. Things had seemed like they would continue almost without interruption, but then the man's wife had fallen ill and he had blamed the servants, noting how they had suffered loss as well. He had given the order to quarantine every servant who showed the slightest hint of illness to prevent further outbreak of the bubonic plague within the household and other English officers had followed suit. It could have been argued that the measure was quite logical despite the emotional core that drove it. However it had been seen as an act of cruelty by the servants. Every day they were expected to be subjected to an examination and often forced to strip before prying eyes. Many of the elders he knew(who were neither Christian, Islamic, nor Jew) didn't mind undressing. The old ways hadn't put as much attention on whether a man or woman was fully clad by English standards(it humored him, for instance, to imagine the reaction foreigners he saw wearing a Sari might have to know that traditionally speaking there had been no shirt beneath it), but the prying fingers had made enemies of all. The act made them feel like thr dirty little heathens the English thought they were and these checks were a frequent complaint among anyone with the words to speak it. As more people became infected the situation became more dire the sahib had begun treating him like a Dalit rather than Shudra. He had tasked him with dragging the bodies of the deceased plague victims from the quarantine housing, onto a cart pulled by a cow, and delivering them to the pyre on the outskirts of the city to be burned. This was an unclean duty unworthy of anyone above his nonexistent caste and though he was not the only servant sent on the grim task, the knowledge brought him no relief. The things he witnessed were too grim to find respite, even in the knowledge that he was not alone. It simply meant there were more dying people experiencing the hell he'd seen than what he witnessed in his own home. The English servants would refer to them as reapers, a reference to a being from their. Own. Mythology. It was a dark name for a dark purpose. They'd harvest bodies like some farmers might harvest their crops. Scared out of their mind that they'd do something to screw everything up and concerned he might catch something from the field he worked. Those he worked with seemed to lessen week by week. It would be a lie to say any of the survivors of his his group left the situation entirely intact. He himself would always associate the smell of fire with the burning bodies, the phantom scent filling his nostrils and chasing away any other thought that might have otherwise his mind. It made him feel weak, those memories it brought to mind, making his palms sweat and his heart race. But it was a weakness he didn't hold against himself. It was horror more impossibly frightening than any slasher film made. He challenged anyone who might view his aversion to flames pathetic to spend months in that place among the remains of the servants unflinching and

[5carlet-chaos]

I offhandedly mentioned I don’t believe in karma at work and my god it’s funny how others seem befuddled over that statement. Like no one apparently thinks about the inconsistencies of karmatic properties. I don’t challenge them on it because I don’t want to start a dramatic debate at work. But karma as I see it is self ascribed vengeance. Karma isn’t a real tangible mechanism in the fabric of existence. Karma is you saying someone deserved misfortune to befall them because something bad they might have done. But if that is how Karma operates, then why are there innocent people on death row and children starving or dying of cancer before they’re 6? Why do despotic dictators flourish while their people suffer? It just seems to me that karma is bullshit, but it exists in the majority world view because people are scared shitless that existence is random chance and chaos

[existentialmagazine]

Review: Love Ghost and SKOLD collaborate for new gritty single ‘Payback’, a harsh mix of hard-rock and emo pop-punk

The self-proclaimed misfits Love Ghost are once again returning with a new single ‘Payback’, the first snippet from a forthcoming full length album collaborating with SKOLD. After already offering 2023 a handful of singles, a full-length album and an EP, it’s truly crazy the amount of work Love Ghost pour into their craft, continually releasing music that hits hard without ever seeming to take a break.

Led in with eerie synth-whirs and a dark electronic guitar riff that sees every note ring out, ‘Payback’ immediately sets up a grungey, punk sound right at its core, teetering on the edge of a great undoing. Slowly building up with metallic cymbal taps and steady striking beats, the sense of unease only continues to gradually build as you progress further in. Love Ghost’s unique vocals mould with the sound perfectly, carrying the track’s more emotionally void delivery into every spoken-sung line, at times becoming distorted in a way that makes you feel just as out-of-it as their narrative’s protagonist appears to be. The pre-chorus sees the vocals taking a subdued backseat, overshadowed by pulsating drum beats and continued fuzzy guitar soaked into the background. Hitting a gritty wall of sound for the choruses’ unleashing, ‘Payback’ sees the shredding of electric guitar, thunderous drums and SKOLD’s hard-rock toned vocals complementing Love Ghost’s more pop-punk spoken-sung lines. As Love Ghost’s modern emo sound merges with SKOLD’s harsh rock approach, the track sonically combines styles in a way that’s scarcely been done, creating an almost industrial feeling sound you can’t tear yourself away from.

With its dominant, down-to-the-bone sound, it’s no surprise that ‘Payback’ has a lyrical message that’s just as infused with searing angst, unravelling a narrative that surrounds a determined protagonist seeking revenge and redemption at their own hands. As the chorus hook repeats ‘you see in my eyes I want nothing more than payback’, the track doesn’t sugarcoat its desire to come a little unhinged, ruthlessly seeking karmatic justice. Revealing hints of what’s pushed them to come undone, lines like ‘everything you say is a lie’ allow us into a slice of the toxic relationship that clearly spiralled downwards, no longer allowing themselves to be walked over. The track’s ferocity only continues to shine in lyrics like ‘ashes, ashes, we all fall down’, as their protagonist eagerly wishes to destroy everyone and everything in their path of attempting to right wrongs. In a fit of destruction, they sing ‘everything that I kept will be all you have left’ , tearing apart not just their target but their lives too. Frankly, ‘Payback’ feels like an unfiltered journey through the darker parts of people’s minds, looking for vengeance and taking it in whatever way they can, regardless of the brutality. It hits hard and paints quite the vivid picture, an overall unforgettable murky anthem of falling into bad habits and dark paths.

Check out ‘Payback’ here to hear just the start of what’s sure to be an immense upcoming album!

Written by: Tatiana Whybrow

Photo Credits: Unknown

// This coverage was created via Musosoup, #SustainableCurator.