#Mutability of fate

[downfallofi]

Forgive me, thought not complete, need more tags

[possamble]

As much as the added Falin portrait made me lose my mind...

(The fact that it was framed with Laios, in a way that shows that Falin has been relegated to memory--Laios, in front of her, who will inevitably suffer the same fate--and Marcille's little hand, almost out of frame, desperately holding on...)

In hindsight I do think it was overkill that muddles the metaphor. Marcille's gallery of portraits is supposed to represent her memories and is an account of the things she feels she can no longer change--that's why Falin is a doll in her arms. Lifeless, with her autonomy stripped away, in such a terrible state that Marcille is too terrified to do more than desperately hold onto her while running away, but tangible nonetheless. It's supposed to show that Falin's fate is terrifying but still mutable to her, that she doesn't consider Falin "lost" just yet.

It also presents the disturbing but incredibly relevant metaphor of Falin being her doll, a plaything, an object to project her wishes upon. Which is really, really important, and also parallels another "gallery of portraits" and "person reduced to a doll" that we see attached to another character later on.

[windvexer]

Hey chicken,

You previously said that you believe even doing simple things in spellwork, like leaving something in a dish of salt, need to be worked over. How would you work over simple things like that? Burning a candle? Just infusing it with some energy?

Even more simple than infusing it with energy, maybe.

This isn't like, set in stone. But I generally believe that the first step of all Witchcraft is permission.

As in, you speak from a place of authority as a Witch, and give permission that reality may become abnormal.

Witchcraft is abnormal, in my opinion. I think it's perfectly nice that people build paradigms based on the idea that magic is altogether completely natural and there is no difference between the magic and normal, but I like the sinister stuff.

So IMO the first, most basic, essential "working over" is to take something (the dish of salt) and, give it permission to become abnormal and begin to effect reality abnormally.

This is the hinge upon which Witchcraft pivots: the Witch going in and taking normal things, and realigning the tracks of fate beneath them, compelling things to start happening which never would have happened if not for that specific intervention.

A dish of salt does not normally just make a space clear of emotions. If it did so, that would not be normal. It would be abnormal. Paranormal, even.

So how do you get salt to stop being normal, and start being a paranormal substance that does abnormal things?

Charging with energy is a later step. You charge with energy to fulfill an intent already set.

The first step is to give reality - the reality of the salt, of the emotions in the room - permission to be a fucked up little guy. It's easy as pie. And it mostly comes down to magical headspace: you seeing reality as something quite permeable, and easy to change, and almost illusory, springing from the web of fate that underpins it; but you can change that fate. Reality likes us. It mimics us to show that it wants to be friends. Put yourself in a state where the world is mutable, and around you the world complies.

So step one is magical headspace.

Step two is telling the salt what to do. "Listen here, you fucked up glorious little guy. Before you were dead, only crystals harvested and mined, sold on a grocery shelf where you've been reduced to nothing but flavor. They chew on your bones and forget to worship your soul. But here, in my house, you are a god. Rise from your grave in this new form, to this new purpose: purify from this room the unwanted, the harmful, and the malignant. By my word and my will, this new fate has been granted to you."

No energy work. No visualization. Just tell it like it is.

Or you could be more corporate about it. "This salt purifies negative energy from the room." It's just setting intent, if you want to be crude.

It's hard for me to do corporate magic. With all apologies to the people who do prefer the very simplified present-tense intentions.

Reality mimics us. If something is stirring inside of you, then something is stirring inside of the salt. No visualizing energy roots required.

A simple sentence may not be enough, or a paragraph. Sometimes it takes a while to find the right words. Maybe the salt isn't really a god. Maybe it's a gnome, a saltwork machine, the dead crest of a long-forgotten ocean wave that preserved a billion amoeba in crystalline purity, ready now to purify your room.

Over time, intuition and experience will both grow and combine to advise exactly what to say.

After all, you're telling it like it is - not making it up.

Go to the place where magic is real and you're doing it.

Assign new fates through words.

These are the simplest steps to working over something.

[evilminji]

:O !!! Wait a second... GHOST DINOSAURS!!!

They died. There are ghost animals. You CAN NOT tell me getting fuckin nuked from space by a GIANT rock that blasted you and everything you've ever known into near instantaneous oblivion, wouldn't leave some Unfinished Business and a shit ton of Ectoplasm.

BILLIONS of things died all at once.

Did most move on? Probably. We're any of them sentient? We have no idea! Maybe! Unlikely, but maybe! Still a MASSIVE, countries wide, molten earth lined, crater of instant death. World shaking and history making. Death in the blink of an eye.

If you're lucky.

But! I hear the arguments now. That was one event. The X or Y dinosaur lived before that! What I'm interested in came AFTER! Good points! But not RELAVENT!!! Because you know what ELSE that giant fuck-off meteor is good for? Aside for Death(tm)?

Television.

Makes for some damn good documentaries. Exciting graphics and neato visual effects. Ooooh~ look at our dramatic recreation! The cute baby animals, unsuspecting of their Doomed Fate~! Tense music! And now, a world from our advertisers!

You know who LIKES Space Documentaries? Danny. He's all ABOUT that Science Channel. Granted, they've been pulling more and more of these mid-tear "aliens built the pyramids" and "look at these swords!" Shows... but! Still! He grew up on this channel! He doesn't WANT to give up on it!

And, yeah, this is... kinda hammy... but it's still watchable!

He's enjoying the live tweeting from paleontologists who are ROASTING the thing to a lovely golden brown. Has choked on his noodles like three times already. It's great! But now? They are arguing over what the dinosaurs actually looked like again... and??

And, look, maybe it's the good mood and boredom. Maybe it's having the house to himself. Maybe it's his parents finally encouraging him to use his "ghostiness" for SCIENCE(tm)(!) the other day. Could even be his bad idea impulse acting up again, buuuuut.....

Teeeeechnically?

Nothing? Is STOPPING him? From finding out? He DOES have Zone compatible cameras. And can probably back trace where they should-ish be? He can find out. The colors might be off, but it's a starting point? Right? And heck, he's pretty sure inverse coloration in standard unless someone's shape-shifting, so he'd just have to inverse it AGAIN to get an approximately correct coloration for them!

....eh, as long as he leaves a "not exact, this was the best I could get" note, it should be fine.

Road Trip time! Better call Dani and see if she wants to ride a few giant mammals and some lizards!

(Needless to say? Some researchers get VERY exciting emails. And only accept they are POSSIBLE, because this is a DC crossover. So there is aliens and magic regularly popping up in their field of expertise, so WHY NOT? Just the other day, a whole ass TOWN that has been wiped out... got UN-wiped out! 23 years later! It's made headlines. Weird shit happens.

So gib. Release to them the Dinosaurs, mystery email man. Fork them over before they begin biting. You think this corduroy jacket means they won't hunt you down? HA! You know NOTHING of academics! WHERE ARE THE EXTINCT ANIMALS? Where are you hiding them!?!?)

@the-witchhunter @hypewinter @nerdpoe @ailithnight @hdgnj @mutable-manifestation

[ivesambrose]

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Masterpost

Picture 1

- Both of you are intellectually driven. Good at observing and reading people. Assertive and often cut throat when circumstances call for it. Will prefer independence and being single over empty or surface level connections.

- May have dealt with a strict mother figure or sibling.

- Seeks wisdom and travel above all. Academics and knowledge is also extremely important to both of you. You and them may also be overqualified or haven't liked sticking to one particular degree or field for long.

- Both of you might like trekking or feel connected to the mountains and outdoors.

- Often display obsessive and perfectionist behaviour in terms of work. Might have specific hyper fixations.

- Might have struggled and overcame addictions or addictive behaviour or have faced controlling partners or people in their lives.

- One of you prefer leisure time and being left alone to pamper yourself when stressed or overwhelmed, other might resort to channeling that into sports, working out or getting work done.

- Animals feel safe around both of you.

- Prone to sleep paralysis or vivid dreams. One of you can't tolerate alcohol or recreational drugs at all.

- May have mercury and 9th house synastry. May have Sagittarius, Libra or Leo in chart.

Picture 2

- Both of you carry grief that has made you feel stuck, may have made you feel ashamed or guilty. But y'all have channeled that into perseverance. Might have been victims of bullying or have witnessed it. This has given both of you a strong sense of justice and the desire to help those in need, the underdogs and the oppressed.

- Neither of you back down from something you're dedicated towards even if it takes time.

- Both of you might come across intimidating to most.

- One of you posseses good language, understanding and networking skills. Are rather mutable. The other is a natural born leader. These two qualities overlap or interachange in each other's presence with time.

- Fiercely protective of loved ones and just as nurturing. Often too sympathetic and need to establish stronger boundaries.

- Life has knocked both of you down a notch several times but it has given you two the ability to rebuild stronger foundations every single time.

- Don't necessarily do well under pressure but will come up with the most radical idea or breakthroughs when least expected.

- May have dealt with intimacy issues.

- Need to be very mindful of the people both of you trust and are vulnerable with.

- Can be an extremely influential duo together. May lead a rather non traditional life.

- Might have 8th and 12th house synastry or moon synastry. Might have cancer and aquarius placements.

Picture 3

- Both of you believe in fate, destiny and luck. Right place and right time but are also rather controlling by nature. Some days you'll go with the flow and let things happen other times you will take charge.

- Both of you cannot and will not back down. Life has thrown daggers at you, yet you have overcome them. Unmatched determination.

- One or both of you may have suffered from anger issues and now transmute that elsewhere.

- Excellent wordsmiths and magnetic personalities. Might be good writers, poets, directors, planners etc

- Both of you have distinct, attractive and memorable voices.

- May struggle with anxiety or insomnia. Might stay up late at night cuz that's when your brain feels most active.

- Both possess emotional intelligence but tend to carry burdens, emotional labour and resentment for long periods.

- Love luxury that is earned after hard work.

- Fond of fragrances.

- Passionate and intense lovers by nature but just as picky.

- Old souls, have a personal relationship with time and it's fleeting nature. Might prefer preserving memories.

- Work better independently, make excellent entrepreneurs.

- Both love to travel or travelling is extremely important to both of you.

- Might have Saturn, mercury, Sun and 10th house synastry. May also have nodal synastry. Might have Mars or Jupiter influence in chart.

[seafoamreadings]

week of september 1st, 2024

these are written predominantly for the *rising* signs but they are also intuitively "channeled" enough that they should work for any dominant energy you have! (try your sun if you don't know rising, or more advanced readers can try moon, anywhere you have a stellium, etc and see what works best for you!)

aries: this is not a week of small transits. while grounding is typically not the name of your personal game, you might want to give it a serious try this week just so you don't get too frazzled in the momentous shifts occurring.

taurus: the vibes are earthy and mostly quite solid although change is still auspicious. it is good to be strong and grounded without being brittle, inflexible, or completely immutable. your sign is well known for stubbornness but at this time, avoid it as well as you can.

gemini: if you need to move to a new home, shake things up in your current household, or unearth some old family secrets, this is the time to do it. conversations around home and hearth and ancestry are favored this week, thanks to the new moon in virgo. on the other hand such a new moon is always useful for just getting your life together if that's where you're at.

cancerians: this week has a new moon (in virgo) which is always a whole thing for you - clean slate, do whatever you need to do! writing is super auspicious too! and also mars moves into cancer. other things happen too of course, but these are the things that will reinvigorate you and get you going where you want to go.

leo: your priorities this week should focus around your subconscious and your resources - money, time, energy, whatever. in fact, consider all the ways in which your subconscious *is* a resource. if it doesn't feel like one, it needs some cleaning out, so do your shadow work while you spreadsheet your budget or whatever other resource maintenance you mean to do.

virgo: this tensely mutable energy features a prominent new moon in your sign. broadly this should be fairly comfortable for you, and yet you may feel an itching, urgent pressure to work for a development. it may be better to sit still, focus on your plans, backup plans, and flow charts and see what unfolds for now. leave room for flexibility and spontaneity in all that planning. don't set anything in stone.

libra: the new moon may hatch a new dream in your psyche, but it's likely so deeply ingrained you can't see it clearly yet. let it gestate. meanwhile you have some strong nodal activity occurring. fate lines are more visible than ever; you see where you come from and where you are going. embrace your destiny, whatever it is, and leave a little room to make your own choices about it.

scorpio: there is a certain social and friendly tone about the week and yet a lot of murky intensity along with it. this is a time to build trust, and yet not to exercise it naively or wildly. let it be earned.

sagittarius: probably this week proceeds relatively smoothly for you but there will later in the week be a sun-saturn opposition. this need not cause any serious turmoil but it could reflect some frustrations in your life where you feel stuck, or in a tug of war between one part of your life and another. meanwhile, all week, excessive spending is definitely not advised.

capricorn: the big highlight of the week is pluto back into your sign for the last time in a couple hundred years. the lord of the underworld hangs out in the farthest reaches of your sign for just a couple of months. use this period to clean up the vibes you want going into the pluto in aquarius era.

aquarius: sometimes, like probably right now, it feels like your hard work has paid off only it setbacks, or having to go back to fix things. the blast from the past taking place is not necessarily pleasant, but isn't it always good to have a second chance to make sure things in the future go just how you want them to?

pisces: tension you can practically touch permeates the air, or whatever subtle plane you are experiencing now. but this tension is highly productive, provided you don't shy away from it too much.

[theironclooch]

I find it really interesting that both of the prescient primarchs killed themselves tbh.

When Sanguinius and Konrad saw their own deaths they both believed that nothing could change their fates. And while they both had drastically different attitudes about it, they were both wrong, funnily enough.

When it comes to seeing the future in 40K, the end result is always muddled and mutable. In the Traitors Tarot, a short story in both the 9th and 10th csm codexes, the leader of a chaos warband goes to a witch to tell him his fortune; to which she drones on and on about several different futures that are all equally likely and unlikely to happen. The head of Kairos Fateweaver that sees the future continues to madly mumble to itself about events that are yet to come. Hell the Eldar’s entire shtick is combing through several futures to find an ideal outcome. The fracturing of the future even happened to Konrad Curze in his own primarch book.

While the Night Haunter confronted a young rapist two notable futures flashed before him, one where he nurtures the boy into becoming a guiding figure for Nostramo, and one where the boy stabs Konrad and gets away. Neither of these things happen as the Night Haunter eats him anyway and while gnawing on his femur, he notices that the knife the boy would have used to stab him was no where near the position it would need to be to be used.

Now Konrad very easily could’ve killed the assassin that came for him, but that would be proving himself wrong; and we can’t have that, can we? Besides death is nothing compared to vindication.

Sanguinius though is surprisingly simple. He could’ve just…not have gotten on board the Vengeful Spirit. Simple as that. But at the same time he had to, because that’s just the kind of person he is.

And now we Segway into the conclusion that KONRAD CURZE AND SANGUINIUS ARE JUST THOSE GUYS. KONRAD MADE MACRAGGE A LIVING HELL. BY HIMSELF. HE FOUGHT THE LION AND GUILLIMAN AT THE SAME TIME AND WAS HOLDING HIS OWN!!!SANGUINIUS CONTINUED TO THRUST HIMSELF INTO CONTINUOUSLY MORE DANGEROUS SITUATIONS BECAUSE OF “Fuck it we ball” ENERGY. LIKE HE FOUGHT AND KILLED KA’BHANDA AND ANGRON WITH LIKE A 30 SECOND BREAK IN BETWEEN EACH FIGHT. THATS NOT EVEN MENTIONING THE TITANS HE TROUNCED AT ETERNITY GATE. God damn. This pair of absolute madmen very well could’ve died at any point during their shenanigans, and they both only died when they decided to.

Fuck.

[elminx]

Energy Update: Lunar Eclipse 9/17/24

Note: all dates and times are in EDT

We are fast approaching our lunar eclipse, which will occur at 10:45PM on Tuesday, 9/17, at 25° Pisces. This eclipse is an off-element eclipse, which means that although our lunar nodes are still on the Aries-Libra axis, this eclipse will occur while the Sun is in Virgo and the Moon is in Pisces.

We are nearing the end of this lunar cycle (the nodes switch over to the Pisces-Virgo axis in January), and this eclipse can be viewed as a preview of the next cycle.

Pisces-Virgo (the North Node is always listed first) is a 12-6 cycle, with our North Node focused on Piscean matters and our South Node pointing away from Virgoic matters. Both Pisces and Virgo have a shared interest in serving humanity - Virgo serves humanity in the physical realm, and Pisces serves humanity in the spiritual realm. As the North node turns towards Pisces, we cross the cosmic line between sign number 1 (Aries) backward into sign number 12 (Pisces).

In a way, this first early Pisces lunar eclipse may seem like a de-evolution, but it's an important part of the process. This entire year (and 2025 as well) is one of transition. We are in the in-between, the liminal if you will. Many of us are being forced to walk forward in the unknown, but others are hanging back and clinging to what was.

Astrology is, at its most base form, a study of the cycles of life. We all know that winter follows autumn and eventually leads into spring. Likewise, monumental changes (like a worldwide pandemic) have a ripple effect that slowly morphs the world. There is no going backward. We all need to adapt. This cycle began in January 2020 when most of our planets (except for Neptune and Uranus) all met up in Capricorn simultaneously.

We have gone through the physical side of things (Taurus), and we were forced to face ourselves and what it meant for each of us individually as people (Aries). Now, we all need to deal with the spiritual side of how it impacted us (Pisces).

Pisces can be a really wise sign, but it can also be highly immature. The 12th sign in the zodiac can be seen as an amagym of all the wisdom of the signs that have come before it. Alternatively, it can also be the purest seed of a child yet to be born at dawn in Aries. Expect this lunation to bring up some major birthing pains or death pains, depending on your outlook and stage of life.

Standard eclipse advice applies: Eclipse season carries with it wild card energy but it is often referred to as the hand of fate reaching into our lives. At times, it can seem like anything is possible during and between our eclipse pairs, but a wise astrology student knows what comes and goes during the eclipse is meant to be. Eclipses don't so much erase what has come before; they tend to realign us with where we are supposed to be.

I think this is what people find the most unsettling about eclipses. Our Western culture has a pretty iffy opinion about fate and free choice. I want to be clear here that astrology does not take away your personal choice or control your life; it is merely a guideline that shows - with a high deal of accuracy - how your life will likely play out.

The first place one would look in a natal birth chart to determine this is (you guessed it) the lunar nodes. Each of us was born under particular nodal energy, symbolized by one of the six astrological Sun sign pairs. How much any individual eclipse cycle will affect you will be determined in part by your lunar nodal pairs and how the current eclipse cycle interacts with your natal chart.

Allowing for a 5° orb, we can say that next Tuesday's eclipse will affect the following groups of people in order of significance:

Anyone with a planet at 25° in a mutable sign (Gemini, Virgo, Sagittarius, Pisces) firstly or any sign secondly

Anyone with a personal planet from 20-29° Pisces or Virgo (Conjunction and Opposition)

Anyone with a personal planet from 20-29° Gemini or Sagittarius (square)

Anyone with a personal planet from 20-29° Taurus, Cancer, Scorpio, Capricorn, and Pisces (trine and sextile)

Anyone with the lunar nodes on the Virgo/Pisces axis

Anyone with the Sun or Moon in Virgo or Pisces

Anyone with a personal planet, Jupiter, or Saturn between 20-29° in any sign

I want to reiterate here that eclipses do not have to have negative or harmful effects. Some eclipses visit us as great epiphanies about what we should do with our lives.

Eclipses seem to rock our worlds when we are holding on to something we are not meant to be anymore. Because we are all imperfect, stupid, fragile, egoic humans (affectionate), this happens far more often than we would like to admit.

If it happens to you, it's okay. Surviving these moments is a part of living our stupid human lives. Astrology is a huge cosmic sign in the sky saying: sometimes it isn't you. Sometimes you couldn't have done any better. Sometimes everything sucks, and it's okay to not be okay. Part of being human is getting knocked down, crying over the spilled milk until you can't cry anymore, and then getting the fuck back up again.

Life hasn't been fair to us. Like all of us. Collectively. Every single human that has been living on this planet had a fucking sucky four years.

This is a watery eclipse, and it's going to bring some serious 12th house unconscious shit. That's what a Pisces moon is made to do.

You are probably going to cry over it even if you do it in the shower so that the sound is and nobody hears you. As your friendly neighborhood astrologer, let me tell you: it's okay not to be okay.

Those of you who are afraid of the darkness may have a really hard time. That's okay, too. If that's you, do your best and maybe lie low early next week. Practice your best self-care often and early.

For those of you who live here, have planets in Pisces or the 12th house, or are drawn to working with and in the shadows, if you have the bandwidth, now is the time to pay attention.

This crossover point between Pisces and Aries will be very important next year (much like the cross-over from Capricorn to Aquarius featured heavily in the energy of 2024). In January, the North Node will move from Aries to Pisces. In March, Neptune will move from Pisces to Aries. In October, retrograde Neptune moves from Aries into Pisces.

I've already discussed the starting/stopping/backtracking/starting/stopping pattern we've been in all year.

The easiest way forward is to allow the 12th house of Pisces to show you what you need to see. It's as simple as that. (ironic)

Oh yeah, it's a Pisces full moon, so you should clean your house.

Wash, wash, wash it all away.

Do you like my work? Kofi

[drdemonprince]

I have Borderline personality disorder and deal with chronic suicidal ideation. up to 10% of us *will* die by suicide. not *might* or *are more likely to.* *will.* which is 50 times greater than the general populace. it's hard to talk about and even harder to deal with bc it's such a heavy topic. the best thing, I think, is to just listen to somebody who is suicidal. let them talk about it. don't offer solutions, none of that "you have so much to live for" shit. the best thing you can say is "I understand how you feel." yeah I might think about suicide every day, but that doesn't mean I'll just suddenly pop and kms. suicides are largely decided within half an hour, and even more are decided within minutes. help a suicidal person feel grounded, let them know that you respect their decision should they follow through. they know that it's not the only way.

Thank you for sharing your experiences, anon. I would caution you very strongly to not take psychiatry's profoundly flawed and biased statistics as a predictive declaration of your fate, however.

*Will* makes it sound unchangeable no matter a BPDer's circumstances -- and given that psychiatry already operates out of the stereotype that BPDers are "incurable" (and therefore not worth much effort in helping), it's subject to a ton of bias. statistically, we can't actually say that a person "will" die of something like suicide with any certainty, as it's not a simple progressive illness like a cancer or something. suicide risk is dynamic and influenced by a person's social support, relationship dynamics, financial situation, whether they're on medications that exacerbate or help things, their trauma recovery, all kinds of things that *are* mutable.

Psychologists and psychiatrist are taught downright cruel things about people with BPD -- i've been in those programs, i've heard things that have shocked me -- and it leads to profound isolation, internalized stigma, and sometimes unnecessary death. many providers give up on ya'll or make things worse for you when they have no right to do that, and they're taught that it's the most yall deserve. that's part of why the suicide risk for BPDers is so consistent.

A person ought to have the freedom to choose death and preventing all suicides is not a respectful goal. I am a harm reductionist and supporter of body autonomy to the maximum. my point here is that when psychiatry says you and people like you "will" die by suicide 10% of the time, what they mean is that that's the general trend they have observed, and they have decided that because of their (bigoted, hateful, scientifically unsupported) belief that yall can never feel better that it's a loss they are okay with accepting.

Anyone who has heard nothing but negative things about BPD I would strong recommend pick up a copy of the book Psychiatric Hegemony.

Sorry for the aside and the rant, but I really want to make that reality exactingly clear. Living with suicide ideation doesn't mean a person can't have a worthwhile life, or that their existence wasn't meaningful and important however long or short that it was.

[failbettergames]

The Great Hellbound Railway

The Great Hellbound Railway is an expansive storyline that unlocks after your Persuasive reaches 175, and once you are a person of sufficient importance within London. These new additions expand upon activities and round out stations throughout the journey.

New Research Projects in the Jericho Library

"There are few pleasures greater than being in a library of one's own."

There are two new research projects available to everyone with a Library in Jericho! Return to the Oddlion Septagonal Reading Room to hit the stacks in pursuit of obscure knowledge and errant citations. Pursue forbidden histories of mutability and countervailing mysteries of the Elder Continent in the supreme comfort of your own library, and overturn popular scholarship in style.

These new projects are a permanent addition to the Library, and join the Hinterlands research project as always-available avenues of research.

Practising Law in the Courts of the Evenlode

"The traditions of the Evenlode are older than the courts in London, and the appointment of unconventional counsel is an expected part of proceedings. In fact, many here would be doomed to represent themselves unless you deign to offer your services."

You can now intervene in trials at the Courts of the Evenlode! You've been a spectator for long enough; it's time to wade into the fray and put your legal nous to good use. Defend rattus faber from the sticky fingers of local urchins. Prosecute the case of the Guild of Gondoliers against the Society Matron. Work out exactly what this Rubbery Man is being charged for, and how exactly he feels about it.

Pursuing justice in the Courts of the Evenlode is a permanent new activity, available to all players who have spent enough time in the Magistracy.

Story Additions to Burrow-Infra-Mump

"It is as though it grew in some other place where the colours are brighter and more vivid than our world can support. It is, unquestionably, a rose."

We've released a short new story in Burrow-Infra-Mump! London's ill-fated war against Hell casts a long shadow. Debts remain unpaid, relationships strain, and old obligations come due. A rose has appeared in Burrow-Infra-Mump; a curious plant of petal and bone that neither London nor Hell seems enthusiastic to claim. Cultivate it, or burn it to the ground, and learn of its relevance to the conflict of '68.

This short story is available to anybody who has completed the development of the church at Burrow, and starts via an Opportunity Card in Burrow-Infra-Mump.

It is also now possible to develop the old ruins at Burrow into a secular freehold. This is an alternate means of completing the station, and does not commit it to any faith or denomination.

New Artwork

Finally, something that you might just have gathered from this blog post already. Each station along the Great Hellbound Railway now has its own unique header art! New artwork joins the existing headers for Ealing and Station VIII, so keep an eye out for these new delights all up and down the journey to Hell.

[nightingaletrash]

'Mortals don't last long in Apocrypha'

So what does that tell us about Miraak? If it's the nature of the realm itself that twists people, then did his being Dragonborn help him resist its influence? If its the pursuit of the realm's knowledge that does it, does that mean that after a point he stopped seeking out more secrets to avoid that fate, or did his nature allow him to pursue that knowledge for longer at a lesser risk? Are Dragons and Dragonborn inherently less mutable than mortals, or did Miraak figure out how to preserve himself long enough to stage his escape?

If there isn't a document somewhere in Necrom that explains it then I am going to shake Hermaeus Mora until I get a damn answer.

[haveyoureadthistransbook]

Black on Both Sides: A Racial History of Trans Identity by C. Riley Snorton

goodreads

The story of Christine Jorgensen, America’s first prominent transsexual, famously narrated trans embodiment in the postwar era. Her celebrity, however, has obscured other mid-century trans narratives—ones lived by African Americans such as Lucy Hicks Anderson and James McHarris. Their erasure from trans history masks the profound ways race has figured prominently in the construction and representation of transgender subjects. In Black on Both Sides, C. Riley Snorton identifies multiple intersections between blackness and transness from the mid-nineteenth century to present-day anti-black and anti-trans legislation and violence.

Drawing on a deep and varied archive of materials—early sexological texts, fugitive slave narratives, Afro-modernist literature, sensationalist journalism, Hollywood films—Snorton attends to how slavery and the production of racialized gender provided the foundations for an understanding of gender as mutable. In tracing the twinned genealogies of blackness and transness, Snorton follows multiple trajectories, from the medical experiments conducted on enslaved black women by J. Marion Sims, the “father of American gynecology,” to the negation of blackness that makes transnormativity possible.

Revealing instances of personal sovereignty among blacks living in the antebellum North that were mapped in terms of “cross dressing” and canonical black literary works that express black men’s access to the “female within,” Black on Both Sides concludes with a reading of the fate of Phillip DeVine, who was murdered alongside Brandon Teena in 1993, a fact omitted from the film Boys Don’t Cry out of narrative convenience. Reconstructing these theoretical and historical trajectories furthers our imaginative capacities to conceive more livable black and trans worlds.

Mod opinion: I haven't read this book yet, but it sounds very interesting and is on my tbr.

[talonabraxas]

New Moon In Gemini

The New Moon connects with Venus, Saturn, and the Nodes of Destiny. This is a fateful moment in which we communicate our desires and let them be known. The possibilities are infinite, and anything seems to happen. The caveat is that Saturn creates a square to the lunation, bringing roadblocks. Therefore, it’ll take effort and work to attain our goals — as long as we are down to give our visions all of our energy to come to fruition, we are golden. The lesson Saturn imparts upon us is to not give up on our dreams and ourselves — even if it takes time and requires patience.

The Gemini stellium (the Sun, Moon, Mercury, Venus, and Jupiter are in the air sign) asks us to choose wisely. Using our voices and thoughts to implement radical change will enhance and evolve our lives. The Venus Star Point (aka Venus Cazimi) and the Mercurial alignment with Jupiter from June 6 is ushering forward towards greatness. But, we may get stuck in a moment since the Venus Portal asks us to reflect on the events from June 2020. Think of ways to transform that moment in time and reclaim it. Gemini energy is mutable, so we can augment matters and situations to demonstrate our power and strength.

The asteroid Juno and centaur Chiron link up with the New Moon, allowing us to heal partnerships — especially our relationship with ourselves. Balance, compassion, and understanding are crucial. The fixed star Rigel adds abundance and beauty to the New Moon's overall performance, positively impacting us.

Under this lunation, we should cleanse the roads ahead and utilize energy to our advantage. Take copal incense and cleanse your home with it. Open the windows and use the incense in the room's corners and doorways. This should detox the energy swiftly. Also, take a cup of water and invert it on a plate on the floor in the corners of the room for a week to dispel negativity. These activities will bring freshness and goodness to the mix, helping you jumpstart your endeavors on a great note.

Owl Witch 🦉 Talon Abraxas

[transbookoftheday]

Black on Both Sides: A Racial History of Trans Identity by C. Riley Snorton

The story of Christine Jorgensen, America’s first prominent transsexual, famously narrated trans embodiment in the postwar era. Her celebrity, however, has obscured other mid-century trans narratives—ones lived by African Americans such as Lucy Hicks Anderson and James McHarris. Their erasure from trans history masks the profound ways race has figured prominently in the construction and representation of transgender subjects. In Black on Both Sides, C. Riley Snorton identifies multiple intersections between blackness and transness from the mid-nineteenth century to present-day anti-black and anti-trans legislation and violence.

Drawing on a deep and varied archive of materials—early sexological texts, fugitive slave narratives, Afro-modernist literature, sensationalist journalism, Hollywood films—Snorton attends to how slavery and the production of racialized gender provided the foundations for an understanding of gender as mutable. In tracing the twinned genealogies of blackness and transness, Snorton follows multiple trajectories, from the medical experiments conducted on enslaved black women by J. Marion Sims, the “father of American gynecology,” to the negation of blackness that makes transnormativity possible.

Revealing instances of personal sovereignty among blacks living in the antebellum North that were mapped in terms of “cross dressing” and canonical black literary works that express black men’s access to the “female within,” Black on Both Sides concludes with a reading of the fate of Phillip DeVine, who was murdered alongside Brandon Teena in 1993, a fact omitted from the film Boys Don’t Cry out of narrative convenience. Reconstructing these theoretical and historical trajectories furthers our imaginative capacities to conceive more livable black and trans worlds.

[mumms-the-word]

Dark Future, Dark Reality

Part 1

Characters: Solas x fem!Lavellan, Varric Tethras, Dorian Pavus, Leliana Summary: When Iren Lavellan is cast into the future via Alexius's spell, she wants to believe everything is just a temporary nightmare. But as she encounters and speaks with Solas, the details of the dark future become all too real to her and she struggles with how much the future has changed her friend. Solas is not the man she has grown to care for in their travels up to this point. Torn between longing for the man she left behind and the man she must leave behind soon, she fights her way through Redcliffe Castle, wrestling with guilt, fear, and a desire to save a man who refuses to be saved. A/N: Did you want Solavellan angst just a week before Veilguard comes out? of course you do. I'm zooming through my new inquisitor's game before the next game comes out but I couldn't let In Hushed Whispers go by without writing a bunch of pining and angst and so on. You know me. Part 2 is here, but the whole thing can be read on AO3 here!

Your spymaster, Leliana. She is here. As are your companions.

Where? Are they all still alive?

I do not know. But you must find them. If you can.

Fiona’s words repeated in Iren’s head as she stepped softly over the cracked flagstones of the Redcliffe Castle dungeons, peering through the gloom. The dungeons were more shadow and frigid water than stone and wood, illuminated only by weak, blue torch flames and the hazy glow of red lyrium. It was difficult to see much of anything, but even so she searched, looking through the bars of every cell she passed. She had to find them. Whether dead or alive, she had to know.

She had dragged Solas, Varric, and several Inquisition soldiers into this mess. Whatever their fates were, they were on her head.

If Dorian and Fiona were to be believed, Alexius’s spell had cast them an entire year into the future, into a world so bleak and broken it was difficult to make sense of. The evidence of catastrophe was all around them, in the red lyrium all over the place, in the way the air felt mutable and wrong, in the heavy, howling emptiness of these dungeons. As though every soul in Thedas had already perished. Each time they passed another cell without any signs of life, the feeling of her and Dorian being the last two people alive in the world increased, pressing down on Iren like a millstone around her neck.

Some cells were empty, their occupants long since dead and disposed of. In others, the dead remained, curled against the floor, their faces cast in darkness, or they stood as twisted, desiccated statues out of which red lyrium grew in abundance. Iren forced herself to study each body, dread churning in her gut, just in case it was someone she recognized. Thus far, Grand Enchanter Fiona and the young elven mage, Lysas, were the only living occupants. Neither were in any state to help. Both were more dead than alive.

She pressed on, stubbornly placing one foot in front of the other to keep searching. More empty cells. More darkness. More silence. Keep searching. Keep looking. Leave no space unchecked. You must find them.

But would she find them dead or alive? Which was worse, in this hellscape?

Keep searching.

She approached yet another room of cages, her cold hands stiff as she pushed the heavy door open. At first, she heard and saw nothing. But then something shifted in the far corner.

“Is someone there?”

Her heart leapt into her throat.

“Solas,” she breathed. She would recognize his mild tenor anywhere. She set a hand on Dorian’s arm as he tried to draw his staff, stopping him. “Wait. That’s Solas.”

“Who?”

But Iren didn’t answer. In the far right corner cell, a pale hand gripped one of the metal bars and then disappeared back into the gloom. She wanted to rush over, but cautious sense prevailed, and she crept forward quietly instead, glancing at the other cells to be sure. All empty.

But she had heard him. She had glimpsed him. There, in the last cell on the right. As she drew even with the bars of his cell, she saw him moving within, his pale form appearing ghostly in the darkness.

“Solas.”

He didn’t hear her. He paced and shifted restlessly in his cramped space, like an animal in a cramped cage. Huge shards of red lyrium grew out of the walls and pointed toward him like dull blades, a constant threat, but he moved around and through them without thought. Dipping a shoulder to pass beneath one large crystal that jutted out at neck level. Turning his head just before a sharp fragment would cut his cheek. Stepping around a cluster of crystals that grew out of the flagstones. Each motion a habit, a series of muscle memory movements that spoke of weeks, months of confinement in this one small space.

How long had he been here?

The heat from the red lyrium seemed to pulse as Iren drew nearer to the bars of the cell, the crystals the only source of warmth, twisted and unnatural, in this freezing cold dungeon. The red haze coming off the corrupted lyrium made the air swim as if she were in a dream, but he was no illusion. This was Solas, in the flesh.

What was left of him.

“Solas,” she said again, softly, taking hold of one of the bars. “Can you hear me?”

He turned at the far wall, dragging his gaze up from the floor, and then jolted to a halt, his eyes widening in shock. For a moment, he couldn’t speak, and then—

“Iren,” he breathed. He took a step closer, lifting an arm as if to take hold of the cell door again, and then halted once more, his arm dropping back to his side with a clenched fist. “You’re alive?”

She nodded, tightening her hold around the bar. His eyes glowed with a strange, sickly red light, but any other detail about him was lost amid the darkness and red lyrium miasma surrounding him. “I’m here, Solas.”

He shook his head in disbelief. “We saw you die.” His voice rang with a strange metallic echo, warped and wrong. “Yet you are no spirit. No illusion. How is this possible?”

“We traveled through time. I can’t explain it. I…”

“Allow me,” Dorian said, producing a key they had plucked off a Venatori jailer’s body. He unlocked the door and pulled it open, speaking as he worked. “In brief, no, we’re not dead. Not yet anyway. The spell Alexius cast displaced us in time. We just got here, so to speak, plucked directly from the throne room one year ago and dumped here. Simple, really.”

As Dorian explained, Solas emerged from the darkness, out into the blue light of the nearby torches. Iren stifled a gasp.

The red haze from the lyrium clung to his body, flickering around a frame that was dangerously thin. Already a slender yet lean man, now his wool shirt hung off him as though he were little more than bone, the knuckles of his hands like sharp peaks, his cheeks sunken in. Beneath his pale skin, turned bone white and ashen in the strange light of the dungeons, his veins stood out stark and bright red. Each beat of his heart sent a crimson glow webbing outward from his core, nearly in time with the pulsing of the red lyrium crystals around them. The blood vessels and pupils of his eyes shone with that same crimson light, and beneath his eyes, his skin had turned gray and black, bruised by exhaustion and months of torment.

He was a dead man walking. A corpse holding onto the barest thread of life.

But his focus was on Dorian. “Displaced in time,” he repeated, as if to himself. His focus sharpened, a sudden, almost frenzied urgency tinging his voice. “Can you reverse the process? You could return and obviate the events of the last year. It may not be too late.”

“That is the plan,” Dorian said. “You catch on quick. Good to know someone understands me around here.”

Solas frowned. “You would think such an understanding would stop me from making such terrible mistakes. You would be wrong.”

Iren was barely listening. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from him. His body bore the subtle signs and markings of a year’s worth of living as some madman’s prisoner, but the damage ran much deeper than the surface showed. The red lyrium haze, the glow that pulsed in his veins, that shone out from his eyes…it went far beyond any healing spell she knew, beyond any herbal remedy that she had memorized.

“Solas…what happened to you?” she asked quietly.

His ashen lips twisted in a grim, humorless smile. “Red lyrium. It kills, but slowly. I am dying.”

“Dying?”

She didn’t want to believe it, but she had never seen anything like this. He was…changed. Though he carried himself with the same somber gravity that he often adopted back at Haven, when all eyes were on him, he no longer stood as tall as before. The bend of his shoulders and the gauntness in his face spoke volumes. He was exhausted, worn down to nothing. All traces of his subtle humor and gentle kindness had been destroyed, replaced by cold detachment. His mind may be as sharp as ever, but physically, he was no more than a shadow of his former self.

It made her heart ache with a pain deeper and heavier than she dared name.

She reached out a hand to touch him. To do what, she didn’t know. Offer him comfort. Attempt a healing spell. See if he was even real. But he took a step back, out of her reach.

“Do not.” Though warped by the metallic tone, his words were firm and unyielding, almost sharp. “This is not something your healing magic can alter.”

“There must be something I can do. Or something I can try.”

“No. There is nothing. My death is inevitable. And there are more important things at stake.”

There was no room for argument in this tone. As if his death were no more than a minor, immutable fact. The evidence was carved into his body. Bruised deep into his skin. Radiating within his blood. He was dying.

But Iren pressed her lips together. “You’re not dead yet. Maybe I can—”

“No. I do not matter here. You do.”

A familiar exasperation rose up within her. “So there’s nothing I can do? Nothing at all?”

“No.” His jaw hardened and he clasped his hands behind his back, all sharp angles and steely silence. She clenched her hands at her sides, swallowing frustration that was little more than thinly veiled despair, and glared at him. For a moment, they merely gazed at each other, Solas’s usual grim sobriety weighed against her stubborn stare. Neither budged, until at last he sighed softly, relaxing a fraction.

“What you can do is this: return and make sure none of this ever occurs,” he said. “And if—when you succeed in returning to your own time, it’s best that you do not bring anything from this time back with you. This red lyrium is a slow poison without a cure. I cannot let it affect you, too.”

Her eyebrows drew together. “Can the effects of red lyrium spread so quickly? Just by touch?”

“Perhaps. It is better not to risk it.”

“So you don’t actually know.”

A flicker of irritation crossed his features, a ghost of the man she had befriended back in her timeline. It was good to see that that Solas still lived, buried deep within this new corrupted form. That somewhere beneath the unrecognizable frame he now bore, her friend was still within, with all his stubborn pride and ridiculous opinions.

It hurt as much as it comforted. This was no mere dream of the Fade. This was a new reality, a potential future. This Solas, with all his wounds and pain, was real. What he had lived through was real. All of this was real.

And in this timeline, she had abandoned him. He had every right to act coldly toward her.

It was her turn to relent. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. But Solas merely shook his head, silent.

“As charming as all this is,” Dorian interjected, glancing between them, “we should get back to the matter at hand. Alexius? Remember?”

“Alexius is not the one that need concern you,” Solas said. “He serves a master, the Elder One. He reigns now, unchallenged. After you stop Alexius, you must be prepared.”

“Prepared?” Iren asked. “For what?”

“To stop the Elder One.” He focused his glowing gaze on her, more serious than she had ever seen him. “I will tell you all I know. But remember this future, Iren. It may help you prevent it.”

—————

Solas spoke low as they moved through the remainder of the dungeons, checking for other survivors. He spoke of the Elder One assassinating Empress Celene and of the chaos that descended on Orlais. He spoke of an army of demons, pouring out of the rifts that only grew more numerous and more unstable without Iren there to close them. Even more gravely, he spoke of the Inquisition and Ferelden armies attempting assault after assault on Redcliffe Castle, always working separately, only for the Ferelden forces to retreat after three failed attempts. But not the Inquisition. In their final assault, only a few short months ago, they were overwhelmed by the demon armies of the Elder One and slaughtered, down to the last man.

“Even Cassandra?” Iren asked. “Cullen? Our friends?”

Solas shook his head. “I can only assume based on what I have heard, and what little I have seen. I have heard of no other survivors, other than myself, Varric, and Spymaster Leliana. Why they keep us alive now is a mystery. The Elder One has already won.”

“Don’t say that,” she said, sharp. “Anything can be stopped.”

Solas let out a short, rough laugh. “You would not say that if you had experienced these things firsthand. Any hope of stopping this Elder One died when the Veil was torn asunder.”

“You’re talking as if all of this is inevitable, even if I do make it back to my time,” she argued. “I can’t afford to think like that. I have to believe he can be defeated.”

“He can be defeated, but not by fools who ignore the dangers even when they are staring them in the face.”

Iren’s face flushed as her temper rose. “So I’m a fool now?”

“Yes, if you continue to treat this world like some dark fairy tale,” Solas snapped, anger flashing through his words. He stopped to face her. “In this world, the Elder One has already secured his victory, and the world has spiraled into chaos as a result. I am not telling you this to pass the time, Iren. These. Things. Happened.” He paused, searching her face, and then added firmly, “You cannot hope to defeat him if you close your ears to the truth now.”

She clenched her jaw, refusing to back down from his stare. But he was right. As was so often the case, he was right, even when she wanted to argue the finer points with him.

Pretending all of this was a dream would help no one. No matter how much she wished to convince herself that this could all be washed away, the evidence was all around her. Even if she did make it back to her timeline, she would have to carry these memories with her. The more tangibly they lingered in her mind, the better prepared she would be to predict the Elder One’s next moves. It made sense.

Much as she hated it.

Dorian, several paces ahead, turned to look back at the two of them. “I’ll just search the next room alone, then, shall I?”

They both ignored him. He shook his head and disappeared through another door, leaving them to their silent staring.

“All right,” she said quietly, after the silence had stretched on too long. “Then tell me everything. Starting with how I died.”

For the first time, a flicker of genuine pain crossed his face and he looked away. “No. Do not ask me that.”

“Solas, I’m not a child. There is no need to protect me.”

“You misunderstand. And it is of no benefit to you.”

She threw one hand into the air, exasperated. “According to who? You’ve talked of nothing but what has happened to everyone else, to this world—”

“Because it is the world that matters!”

“—but never once have you said how I died or what happened to you and Varric,” she continued, raising her voice over his. “How am I supposed to save you, or save myself, if I don’t know what I’m up against when I get back? How can I guarantee anything if I don’t know what I might face?”

“We do not matter so much as the world at large,” he said, his voice rough.

“You matter to me,” she snapped.

He shook his head again, turning his face away, and fixed his gaze on the far wall, his eyebrows lowered. Light and darkness cast his profile in stark relief, black and white, sharpening the planes and angles of his face. Pools of shadow gathered in the hollow of his cheek, of his throat, darkening the bruises beneath his eyes by contrast. In the flickering blue torchlight, the line of his jaw was honed to a knife’s edge. The only color came from the glow in his eyes, a scarlet shade the color of rage, a rage that was not his own but had been forced upon him, sinking into his blood, consuming him from the inside out.

For a moment, he looked lethal, a predator, ready to bear sharp fangs and lunge for the kill. And then the shadows shifted, and all she saw was the hollow death mask of a dying man running out of time.

This world had changed him. He was all shattered glass and ragged edges now. Sharp, brittle, trying to be strong and resolute but shredded raw by months spent in one small dungeon cell while corrupted lyrium slowly ate away at his body, his mind, his will. This whole time, whenever he spoke, his tone had been steely, almost cruel in its coldness. He was less patient here, more frenetic. No more the mentor or the teacher, the wisdom-giving friend, but a dread harbinger.

But the Solas she knew was still in there somewhere. She had seen him, a glimpse, flickering at the edge. And that faint specter of the man she had grown to care for was what kept her tethered here, grounding her in this reality, even as it wrung out her heart to see this world so horrifically twisted and empty. The Solas she knew would want her to equip herself with as much knowledge as possible to stop this Elder One. Even if it hurt. Perhaps especially if it hurt.

And whether this Solas or that Solas liked it or not, she would use that knowledge to save as many people as she could, starting with him.

She took a step closer to him. He flinched faintly and took a step away. Always keeping her just beyond arm’s reach.

“Please,” she whispered. “Tell me what happened the day I di—I disappeared.”

At first, he pretended not to hear her. But then he released a breath through his nose, glancing sidelong at her. It only took another second or two for him to cave. “Very well. I had forgotten how stubborn you were.”

She smiled slightly. “Indomitable focus, remember?”

A hint of a smile passed over his lips. The first real smile, however faint, she had seen in this dreadful world, other than Dorian’s cavalier smirks. His eyes softened. “I do.”

It was the hint of encouragement she needed. She took another small step closer, prompting him with a quiet, “So…?”

This time he didn’t step away. But his expression grew somber again as he lowered his gaze to the floor between them. It took him a moment to find his voice.

“The magic Alexius used to transport you to this time appeared to us as a tear in the fabric of reality. It ripped apart your body in seconds before sealing itself closed, leaving behind nothing more than scorch marks and silence. It was…” He swallowed, his throat bobbing. “Swift. Swift and unstoppable. There was nothing I—nothing we could do.”

Iren said nothing, letting the severity of the memory settle over her. She tried to imagine it from his perspective…and failed. He had painted the scene in so few brushstrokes…

A realization washed over her with a cold shiver. His hesitancy, the pain that had crossed his features the first time she had asked, his resistance…it all suddenly made sense. It wasn’t her he was trying to protect from the memory.

It was himself.

“With you gone,” he continued, not noticing her sudden chill, “Alexius unleashed his forces upon us, ensuring that none would escape. Varric and I fought to the point of exhaustion, down to the last crossbow bolt and wisp of magic. But Alexius’s forces were too numerous. They wasted no time chaining us to our cells. There, we have remained. Until now.”

“Solas…I…”

He passed a hand over his eyes as if shielding himself from seeing the past. “Forgive me,” he whispered. “If I had been stronger, more powerful…none of this would have happened.”

“Don’t talk like that,” she chided quietly. Creators, what she wouldn’t give to touch him, red lyrium or not. She felt so useless standing there an arm’s length away while he tore open old wounds to sate her foolish curiosity.

She shouldn’t have asked. She shouldn’t have pushed for answers. Wasn’t that how they ended up in this mess? In every mess? Because she couldn’t leave anything well enough alone? If the blame had to be laid at anyone’s feet for all the horrors of the last year, it should be at hers, not his.

She chanced another step closer. “None of this is your fault, Solas. You can’t blame yourself for what happened in this world.”

He dropped his hand with a mirthless laugh, shaking his head. “You say that with such conviction, but you have no idea what I have—” He cut himself off, turning his face away, his hands clenched at his sides. He took a deep breath. “What I have experienced. You know nothing of this world. It is far worse than you understand. To you, this will be nothing more than a terrible dream. But in this world, an entire year has passed, the people crushed beneath the whims of the Elder One and his armies. If you had seen what I have seen…endured what I have endured…”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and then again, stronger this time, “Solas, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. I didn’t mean to cause you more pain.”

“No. There is nothing you can do or say to cause me any more pain than I have already endured.” And just like that, his vehemence cooled, leaving behind only weary acceptance. “And you are right. You must know what you are up against.”

He took a slow breath, meeting her gaze once more with careful detachment. She struggled to hide her disappointment and her guilt. Any ground she had gained moments ago was lost. He was back to grave business once again, the Solas she knew buried deep down where he could no longer be hurt.

“Now…I trust your curiosity is now satisfied?” he asked. Without waiting for her answer, he turned toward the door Dorian had disappeared through some time ago. “We must find Varric and a way to reach Alexius. That is all that matters here. We should waste no more time.”

Then he stepped through to the next corridor, leaving her alone in the cold darkness of the dungeon chamber.

She struggled with herself a moment, wrangling guilt and shame and embarrassment into something she could swallow. She was such a fool. Silent, she followed after him, heading past yet another row of cells trying to focus on the tasks ahead.

They found Varric shortly after, safe and sound. Or as safe and sound as one could be after a year spent in a dungeon cell surrounded by red lyrium. Like Solas, he looked gaunt and pale, a dying man’s husk for his normally stocky and well-built body, but he spoke with his usual casual levity. Though it seemed more forced and less vibrant than usual, he acted as though none of this horrific future had actually affected him.

But Varric had always been a very good liar.

“Solas told us everything,” Iren said. “The Elder One, all that he’s done…”

Varric nodded. “Yeah. To say it’s ‘bad’ out here is an understatement. The past year has been a damn nightmare.”

“Are you all right?” she asked. She heard Solas snort quietly behind her and winced. “Right, stupid question.”

But Varric just gave her a crooked grin. “I think I look pretty good for a dead man, honestly. Just saying, the not-dying version of this red lyrium stuff? Worse. Way worse.”

“Were you in there with the red lyrium this whole time?” she asked cautiously. She knew how much Varric hated it. How much it had cost him.

“The red lyrium came later,” Solas answered for him, his face carefully blank. “After the first few methods of torture proved insufficient to produce any new information about you.”

Torture. He said it in a tone so matter-of-fact, she nearly missed it. She stared, speechless with muted horror, but he was already moving on. Already gathering himself up and drawing away toward the door.

Varric grimaced. “Aw, Chuckles, you don’t have to scare her like that.”

“She wants to know,” was Solas’s distant answer.

“You were tortured?” Iren whispered, looking to Varric for an answer. But Varric just shrugged.

“These Venatori don’t appreciate a good story,” he muttered under his breath. Then he followed Solas toward the door.

Iren learned to stop asking questions after that.

—————

Iren caught a glimpse of the torture methods of the Venatori firsthand as they burst in to save Leliana. If anything, she looked worse than the others, her skin mottled and unnaturally gray, her blighted flesh hanging off her bones as though all the strength and vitality had been sucked from her body by some vampiric demon. She bore no traces of red lyrium corruption, but she was dying as surely as the others. Everyone was dying here.

Leliana had even less patience for rehashing the details of the past than Solas, though it was Dorian attempting to ask for details this time.

Enough! This is all pretend to you. Some future you hope will never exist. I suffered. The whole world suffered. It was real.

Iren’s eyes had been on the bloodied and rusted torture elements when Leliana spat those words out to Dorian. Though they lay inert now, all she could see were the brands blazing white hot, inching toward her friends’ bodies, the sharp pokers and tools with which they could cut, slice, stab, tear…

What marks did her friends bear that she couldn’t see? Scars healed by time, or possibly even magic, as Alexius forced them to stay alive in hopes that they would reveal some secret about her, even after she was supposedly dead.

Torture. Red lyrium. Demons. Death.

It was real.

Her words rang in Iren’s head as they made their way, stoic and silent, through the rest of the lower floors, creeping ever upward and forward toward the surface. She was only half-paying attention when Dorian opened the door leading out into the courtyard, only distantly aware of the green-tinted light spilling through the doorway. She heard Dorian swear in Tevene and dragged her gaze up to see what had alarmed him.

She stepped out into the courtyard with a gasp.

“The Breach! It’s…”

“Everywhere,” Dorian finished. He looked shaken for the first time in that dark future.

What had formerly been just one ugly, green-glowing wound in the heavens had spread, the very sky rippling and churning with sickly-looking clouds and ribbons of Fade light. Colossal columns of stone hung suspended in the air while whole chunks of buildings and ruined towers floated over their heads, as though bits of the Black City that hovered just out of sight in the Fade had been brought to bear down upon the mortal, living world. The grass at their feet bent not from the brush of a natural breeze but from hazy washes of magic that swept around them like filmy curtains, thin but tangible even to the naked eye. All around them, flakes of ash and small rocks floated skyward, drawn in by the pull of the Breach, by the gravity of a sky so shattered there was nothing solid left to rely on.

The overall effect was so disorienting, Iren nearly lost her footing simply standing just beyond the doorway. More than anything else she had seen so far, this nearly brought her to her knees. Her mind struggled to make sense of where the world ended and the Fade began, where the Veil was supposed to be, which parts were meant to be mutable Fade structures and which were the hand-hewn stones and walls of Redcliffe Castle. She stared up at the broken head of an Andraste statue, larger than any statue she’d ever seen for any Creator, god, or prophet, as it hung suspended and slowly rocking in the sky. No such carving existed near Redcliffe, of that she was certain.

The world was warped, shifting, neither Fade nor not-Fade but something in between that refused to make sense. The longer she gazed up at the sky, the more she felt as though she would fall into it, her feet lifting from the ground like the small stones around her, the whole world tilting as she was dragged upward into that sea of green and gray.

She staggered, catching herself with her staff, and forced her eyes onto something that wasn’t moving. The flagstones at her feet. “I don’t understand.”

“The Veil is shattered,” Solas said, joining her outside and staring up at the sky. He leaned more heavily on his staff now for support, the shadows beneath his eyes darkening in the eerie green light.  “There is no boundary now between the world and the Fade.”

Shattered. There was no Veil here. Nothing keeping the Fade from spilling over and twisting the world, rewriting the rules, and leaving only chaos in its wake. No more Thedas apart from the Fade. No more Fade apart from the world. It was all one and the same.

And it was hell.

She saw Solas’s jaw clench. “It is not supposed to be this way.”

“Understatement of the age, Chuckles,” Varric muttered, but Solas ignored him. He turned to Iren instead, red-glowing eyes intense in the fluid light of the broken sky.

“This world is an abomination,” he said, every word weighted. “It must never come to pass.”

She nodded. Something in his tone spoke of warning beyond the threat of the Elder One, but she couldn’t discern what. And with very little time on their side and the Elder One the most immediate threat, she elected not to ask.

“I’ll do everything I can to keep this from ever happening,” she said solemnly. “Ever again. I swear it.”

“Good,” he murmured.

“Let us put those words to the test, Herald,” Leliana said, drawing her bow and notching an arrow. Iren followed the point of the arrowhead over to the upper level of the courtyard, where several demons prowled, eager for something new to hunt and devour. “There are still many obstacles between us and the throne room where Alexius cowers and hides.”

Iren readied her staff with a nod. Even here, demons could be killed. First them, then Alexius, and eventually, one day, the Elder One. Simple.

For now.

[dingodad]

So GAME OVER was a doomed timeline right? Because I still hear people saying that this was genuinely how the alpha timeline was supposed to go, despite the fact that Aranea literally said it herself? We never see how the alpha timeline would go but there’s no way it would end with everyone dead and the Universe C frog completely annihilated with no chance of hope, right?

well, why not? the fact is that a vast majority of sessions end up like that, and the kids' sessions have been marked by signs of failure from the very start. when they succeed, it's almost always in spite of the whims of the timeline, rather than by following its fated outcome.

(lord english is of course waiting at the end of the timeline counting on them overcoming every obstacle, but i think that's a slightly different conversation.)

aranea does say it's a doomed timeline, and while she's frequently misguided there's not STRICTLY any reason to assume she's wrong; but i think the point of this entire series of events is to highlight the timeline's mutability. her suggestion that she could personally overwrite the alpha timeline seems preposterous, but with enough temporal energy the scratch is capable of doing exactly that, and a retcon is seemingly the same thing. remember that many doomed timelines are defined by their relationship to the alpha anyway; davesprite's timeline didn't become an "offshoot" until he personally travelled back in time to prevent it from happening in the first place. so for all we know, the same is true of GAME OVER; it was the alpha timeline, until john rewrote reality so that it was actually doomed the whole time.

probably more importantly, the fact that we didn't actually know whether GAME OVER was a doomed timeline or not is exactly what sold us on the stakes; if it was just "a doomed timeline" then we feel safe in the knowledge that we can just cut to the other, more favourable timeline as soon as we're done here. but in typical homestuck fashion it's also an escalation; "doomed or alpha" was a really important question in the comic's earlier acts, but by the end of act 6 we have much bigger concerns, and the fact that the ultimate juju can simply sidestep such trivialities clearly demonstrates the levels of power we are now operating on.