#Or even test his immortality is only partly the reason

[siixkiing]

While Wukong has eaten things that are not suppose to be consumed (molten lava, glass, ect), he does have a reason. To most, he'll say it's because he was curious and to shock others when they learn what he's eaten — this is mostly true, he does get a certain delight out of freaking people out in that way and a way to flex his immortality. However, the other reason is...he does not want himself to be subjected to such things being used to torture him again. This is tied into his imprisonment under the mountain where he was forced to eat iron pills and drink molten metal. It was pure hell for him, which is why he went out of his way after to consume stuff that no one should as a way to make sure no one could use such things to torture him with again.

[onyxisnotuniqueenough]

@kamari2038 thank you so much for asking! here's a rudimentary breakdown, partly because i have projects in mind i don't want to spoil and partly cause i haven't worked out all the details yet

disclaimer : i was not a percy jackson kid, nor a greek mythology kid. so there are a lot of inaccuracies

i first thought of this idea back in 2020-2021. there was some kind of debate team event i saw i saw in high school and the topic of birds came up, and i thought of :

you can ignore the text, it's no longer really relevant to the story nowadays. i was just brainstorming.

a few days later i see a picture of tom hiddleston with blonde hair

and then i abandon the idea for 2 straight years.

2 years later :

(i made a collage for an art swap, also strategically cutting out lore 👀)

in my head this was a story about "cupid" (eros, but he likes this new name) , god of love, and son of aphrodite and ares. he had many siblings ofc, the erotes etc.

i know that the gods are immortal and eternal, but in my story, aphrodite argues with the rest of the gods and she decides she can't be goddess of love anymore. she'll focus on other aspects of her godliness i guess, like beauty, lust, procreation, etc.

but SOMEONE needs to take on the role. Aphrodite accepts to keep her duties until her son is ready to do it by himself. Cupid is doing an internship i guess, or a test run, or is going through a trial period -- however you want to put it. He is trained, being put in charge of a palace and works with his brothers and sisters, in charge of innocent crushes, lust, heartbreak, jealousy, etc.

(important detail, this is probably accurate to actual greek mythology, but the main 12's kids are the first to be born BABIES. they were born adults. so this is their first time seeing and raising children! keep that in mind.)

During this trial run, Cupid makes an enormous mistake. an unforgivable one. he faces the trial of gods and should be sentenced to "death", but aphrodite defends him and his sentence is reduced to "temporary banishment until he learns his lesson". He's on close watch. If he does anything too out of line during banishment, it's over for him. They also rip his heart out for secret reasons.

He's banished to an island, completely on his own, and is tested regularly to see his..."progress"..? This island is floating in the heavens, so imagine the visuals cause i'm bad with environments and can't provide any right now 👁👁

this island is literally all nature/jungle, except for a house/mansion he lives in. and he's sometimes visited by siblings-- which are basically his only social interactions. in his very free time, he designs animals and birds to inhabit his island and keep him company - so the cupid swan and sunset sparrow are his designs! and there are many more animals he wanted to make. he is also very inspired by earth animals, obviously.

also, detail, one of his siblings brought him this broadcast tv kind of thing, so he gets to watch human tv! and even later real human interactions broadcasts!

throughout his story, cupid needs to find a way to get out of his banishment, get his heart back and save humans from his sibling's incompetence, and one particular sister's plans. 👀

i don't draw him, or any characters from his story, as much nowadays, although i know i should -- lately i've been having some doubts about the whole greek/roman mythology thing because it feels overdone with percy jackson, lore olympus, etc. I have ideas about how i'd represent many other characters from greek mythology in cool ways, and i like this story overall, but i'm thinking of making my own mythology/lore system to avoid regurgitating the same clichés over and over again. but i can't even get started with that because everything's already been done !

this is all i have so far, let me know if there's anything else about this story you'd like to know, or your opinions, or if you can help me create some new god mythology god lore 🙏🙏🙏

and let me know if you'd like other posts like this about my other ocs! i have a bunch

thank you again @kamari2038 for giving me the opportunity to spill about this! i've always wanted to share oc content but every time i posted anything on them or about them nobody would even see it. you don't know how happy i was to see your reply.

i'll reblog this post with miis of the cast, that i made on miitomo this past summer :)

[my-romance-library]

'Immortals After Dark' series - Kresley Cole

Every creature or being that was thought to be mythical . . . isn’t.

They all secretly exist alongside humans and enjoy the gift of immortality. There are hundreds of different kinds: from Vampires to Lykae, from Furies to Shifters, from the Fey to Valkyries.

These immortals call their world The Lore.

You may have had a brush with one of Lorekind already. The eccentric billionaire with hypnotic charisma—and an aversion to sunlight. The ethereal waif of impossible beauty—whose fingernails look more like claws. The Highlander with a seventeenth-century Scottish accent and animal magnetism—who can never be penciled in on the night of the full moon.

They walk among us, but they war among themselves. Each faction has its strengths, weaknesses, and age old prejudices against the others. Every five hundred years, the Accession, a battle for supremacy, rages. That time is now. . . .

Favourites:

The Warlord Wants Forever (#1)

Nikolai Wroth, once a ruthless human warlord in the 1700s and now a general in the rebel vampire army, needs to find his bride, the one woman who can render him truly alive. As a turned human, he doesn't enjoy a heartbeat or breathing and is consequently weaker than fully blooded vampires. He wants his bride for the power she will bring him and can hardly believe it when his heart beats for Myst the Coveted, a mad, fey, mythological creature.

She eludes him for five years, but he has finally chased her to ground and stolen the jewel which commands her, giving him absolute power over her. While he possesses it, he can make her do anything, and he plans to in order for her to experience firsthand the agonizing, unending lust she'd purposely subjected him to for half a decade. Yet when Wroth realizes he wants more from her and frees her, will she come.

---

A Hunger Like No Other (#2)

A fierce werewolf and a bewitching vampire become unlikely soul mates whose passion will test the boundaries of life and death.

After enduring years of torture from the vampire horde, Lachlain MacRieve, leader of the Lykae Clan, is enraged to find the predestined mate he’s waited millennia for is a vampire. Or partly one. Emmaline Troy is a small, ethereal half Valkyrie/half vampire, who somehow begins to soothe the fury burning within him.

---

No Rest for the Wicked (#3)

A vampire soldier weary of life...

Centuries ago, Sebastian Wroth was turned into a vampire—a nightmare in his mind—against his will. Burdened with hatred and alone for ages, he sees little reason to live. Until an exquisite, fey creature comes to kill him, inadvertently saving him instead.

A valkyrie assassin dispatched to destroy him...

When Kaderin the Cold Hearted lost her two beloved sisters to a vampire attack long ago, a benevolent force deadened her sorrow—accidentally extinguishing all of her emotions. Yet whenever she encounters Sebastian, her feelings—particularly lust—emerge multiplied. For the first time, she's unable to complete a kill.

Competitors in a legendary hunt...

The prize of the month-long contest is powerful enough to change history, and Kaderin will do anything to win it for her sisters. Wanting only to win her, forever, Sebastian competes as well, taking every opportunity—as they travel to ancient tombs and through catacombs, seeking relics around the world—to use her new feelings to seduce her. But when forced to choose between the vampire she's falling for and reuniting her family, how can Kaderin live without either?

---

Wicked Deeds on a Winter's Night (#4)

Her breathless kiss haunts him...

Bowen MacRieve of the Lykae clan was nearly destroyed when he lost the one woman meant for him. The ruthless warrior grew even colder, never taking another to his bed—until a smoldering encounter with his enemy, Mariketa the Awaited, reawakens his darkest desires. When sinister forces unite against her, the Highlander finds himself using all his strength and skill to keep her alive.

His slow, hot touch is irresistible...

Temporarily stripped of her powers, Mari is forced to take refuge with her sworn adversary. It's rumored that no one can tempt Bowen's hardened heart, but soon passion burns between them. Though a future together is impossible, she fears he has no intention of letting her go.

No deed is too wicked for her seduction...

If they defeat the evil that surrounds them, can Mari deny Bowen when he demands her body and soul—or will she risk everything for her fierce protector?

---

Dark Needs at Night's Edge (#5)

A RAVEN-HAIRED TEMPTRESS OF THE DARK...

Néomi Laress, a famous ballerina from a past century, became a phantom the night she was murdered. Imbued with otherworldly powers but invisible to the living, she haunts her beloved home, scaring away trespassers -- until she encounters a ruthless immortal even more terrifying than Néomi herself.

A VAMPIRE WARRIOR CONSUMED BY MADNESS...

To prevent him from harming others, Conrad Wroth's brothers imprison him in an abandoned manor. But there, a female only he can see seems determined to drive him further into madness. The exquisite creature torments him with desire, leaving his body racked with lust and his soul torn as he finds himself coveting her for his own.

HOW FAR WILL HE GO TO CLAIM HER?

Yet even if Conrad can win Néomi, evil still surrounds her. Once he returns to the brutality of his past to protect her, will he succumb to the dark needs seething inside him?

---

Dark Desires After Dusk (#6)

A seductive beauty he can never have, yet can't resist...

Cadeon Woede will stop at nothing to atone for the one wrong that will haunt him forever. But once he secures the key to his redemption, the halfling Holly Ashwin, Cade finds that the woman he thought he could use for his own ends and then forget haunts him as much as his past.

A tormented warrior she should fear, but can't deny...

Raised as a human, Holly never knew that some frightening legends are real until she encounters a brutal demon who inexplicably guards her like a treasure. Thrust into a sensual new world of myth and power, with him as her protector, she begins to crave the demon's wicked touch.

Surrender to dark desires...

Yet just when he earns Holly's trust, will Cade be forced to betray the only woman who can sate his wildest needs -- and claim his heart?

---

Kiss of a Demon King (#7)

HIS OBSESSION...

Sabine, Sorceress of Illusions: the evil beauty who surrenders her body, but not her heart.

HER DOWNFALL...

Rydstrom Woede: the ruthless warrior who vows to keep her at all costs.

THEY WERE NEVER SUPPOSED TO WANT EACH OTHER THIS MUCH...

With each smoldering encounter, their shared hunger only increases. If they can defeat the sinister enemy that stands between them, will Sabine make the ultimate sacrifice for her demon? Or will the proud king lay down his crown and arms to save his sorceress?

---

Pleasure of a Dark Prince (#9)

A DANGEROUS BEAUTY...

Lucia the Huntress: as mysterious as she is exquisite, she harbors secrets that threaten to destroy her -- and those she loves.

AN UNCONTROLLABLE NEED...

Garreth MacRieve, Prince of the Lykae: the brutal Highland warrior who burns to finally claim this maddeningly sensual creature as his own.

THAT LEAD TO A PLEASURE SO WICKED....

From the shadows, Garreth has long watched over Lucia. Now, the only way to keep the proud huntress safe from harm is to convince her to accept him as her guardian. To do this, Garreth will ruthlessly exploit Lucia's greatest weakness -- her wanton desire for him.

---

Demon from the Dark (#10)

A DANGEROUS DEMON SHE CAN'T RESIST . . .

Malkom Slaine: tormented by his sordid past and racked by vampiric hungers, he's pushed to the brink by the green-eyed beauty under his guard.

A MADDENING WITCH HE ACHES TO CLAIM . . .

Carrow Graie: hiding her own sorrows, she lives only for the next party or prank. Until she meets a tortured warrior worth saving.

TRAPPED TOGETHER IN A SAVAGE PRISON . . .

In order for Malkom and Carrow to survive, he must unleash both the demon and vampire inside him. When Malkom becomes the nightmare his own people feared, will he lose the woman he craves body and soul?

---

Dreams of a Dark Warrior (#11)

He Vowed He'd Come For Her...

Murdered before he could wed Regin the Radiant, warlord Aidan the Fierce seeks his beloved through eternity, reborn again and again into new identities, yet with no memory of his past lives.

She Awaits His Return...

When Regin encounters Declan Chase, a brutal Celtic soldier, she recognizes her proud warlord reincarnated. But Declan takes her captive, intending retribution against all immortals—unaware that he belongs to their world.

To Sate A Desire More Powerful Than Death...

Yet every reincarnation comes with a price, for Aidan is doomed to die when he remembers his past. To save herself from Declan’s torments, will Regin rekindle memories of the passion they once shared—even if it means once again losing the only man she could ever love?

---

Lothaire (#12)

All fear the enemy of old.

Driven by his insatiable need for revenge, Lothaire, the Lore’s most ruthless vampire, plots to seize the Horde’s crown. But bloodlust and torture have left him on the brink of madness—until he finds Elizabeth Peirce, the key to his victory. He captures the unique young mortal, intending to offer up her very soul in exchange for power, yet Elizabeth soothes his tormented mind and awakens within him emotions Lothaire believed he could no longer experience.

A deadly force dwells within her.

Growing up in desperate poverty, Ellie Peirce yearned for a better life, never imagining she’d be convicted of murder—or that an evil immortal would abduct her from death row. But Lothaire is no savior, as he himself plans to sacrifice Ellie in one month’s time. And yet the vampire seems to ache for her touch, showering her with wealth and sexual pleasure. In a bid to save her soul, Ellie surrenders her body to the wicked vampire, while vowing to protect her heart.

Centuries of cold indifference shattered.

Elizabeth tempts Lothaire beyond reason, as only his fated mate could. As the month draws to a close, he must choose between a millennia-old blood vendetta and his irresistible prisoner. Will Lothaire succumb to the miseries of his past—or risk everything for a future with her?

---

Dark Skye (#15)

ETERNAL OBSESSION

As a boy, Thronos, prince of Skye Hall, loved Lanthe, a mischievous Sorceri girl who made him question everything about his Vrekener clan. But when the two got caught in the middle of their families’ war, tragedy struck, leaving Thronos and Lanthe bitter enemies. Though centuries have passed, nothing can cool his seething need for the beautiful enchantress who scarred his body—and left an even deeper impression on his soul.

ENDLESS YEARNING

Lanthe, a once-formidable sorceress struggling to reclaim her gifts, searches for love and acceptance with all the wrong immortal suitors. But she’s never forgotten Thronos, the magnificent silver-eyed boy who protected her until she was ripped from the shelter of his arms. One harrowing night changed everything between them. Now he’s a notorious warlord with a blood vendetta against Lanthe, hunting her relentlessly.

CAN THE HEAT OF DESIRE BURN BRIGHTER THAN VENGEANCE?

With their families locked in conflict and battles raging all around them, will Thronos and Lanthe succumb to the brutal chaos that threatens everything they cherish? Or will the fragile bond they formed so long ago spark a passion strong enough to withstand even the darkest doubts?

---

Sweet Ruin (#16)

A foundling raised in a world of humans

Growing up, orphaned Josephine didn't know who or what she was - just that she was 'bad', an outcast with strange powers. Protecting her baby brother Thaddeus became her entire life. The day he was taken away began Jo's transition from angry girl… to would-be superhero… to ruthless villain.

A lethally sensual enforcer on a mission

Whether by bow or in bed, archer Rune the Baneblood never fails to eliminate his target. In his sights: the oldest living Valkyrie. Yet before he can strike, he encounters a vampiric creature whose beauty mesmerizes him. With one bite, she pierces him with aching pleasure, stealing his forbidden blood - and jeopardizing the secrets of his brethren.

A boundless passion that will lead to sweet ruin…

Could this exquisite female be a spy sent by the very Valkyrie he hunts? Rune knows he must not trust Josephine, yet he's unable to turn her away. When Jo betrays the identity of the one man she will die to protect, she and Rune become locked in a treacherous battle of wills that pits ultimate loyalty against unbridled lust.

---

Wicked Abyss (#17)

As a boy, Abyssian "Sian" Infernas had his heart shattered by a treacherous fey beauty who died before he could exact vengeance. Millennia later, a curse has transformed him into a demonic monster--just as she's been reincarnated. Sian captures the delicate but bold female, forcing her back to hell.

Meets his match.

Princess Calliope "Lila" Barbot's people have hated and feared Abyssian and his alliance of monsters for eons. When the beastly demon imprisons her in his mystical castle, vowing revenge for betrayals she can't remember, Lila makes her own vow: to bring down the wicked beast for good.

Can two adversaries share one happily-ever-after?

As Calliope turns hell inside out, the all-powerful Sian finds himself defenseless against his feelings for her. In turn, Lila reluctantly responds to the beast's cleverness and gruff vulnerability. But when truths from a far distant past are revealed, can their tenuous bond withstand ages of deceit, a curse, and a looming supernatural war?

---

[xtrablak674]

Sex Death & The Future by Irene Elizabeth Stroud

[Originally published in LGNY (Now Gay City News), April 9, 1995, Issue No 1]

Adamo Melaney and Trevor Brown know more about HIV and AIDS then most young gay men in New York. But all they know is not enough to keep them from having unsafe sex. Adamo can list at least half a dozen things it also takes - counseling, friends, a support group, therapy, safer sex coaching from Project Achieve, hope for the future. And even then its not easy. Trevor, for reasons he only partly understands, has been having unsafe sex for months, and he can't seem to stop.

Adamo and Trevor are best friends. They met two years ago at GHMC, in a training for HIV/AIDS peer educators. A friend of Adamo's had just found out he was HIV positive, and he wanted to make sure that the same thing didn't happen to the rest of his friends. Trevor, who had been active in gay groups in college, was ready to take his activism to the next level. Since then they have been inseparable. As peer educators, they're a team: Adamo is the serious, analytical one, while Trevor is the theatrical and funny.

They avoid using fear tactics in their training sessions because they don't think fear results in permanent change. "What you're feeling when you have sex isn't going to link up to those things you're afraid of when your not having sex," Adamo says. But they are afraid.

They try to emphasize the positive aspects of sex, so that people don't feel they're losing something when they use a condom. But Trevor questions the honesty of that message. "It (sex) is wonderful without a condom," he says. "Plain and simple fact. It's not that I advocate going out there and doing that, but I think part of our education needs to say that, 'Fucking without a condom feels very good'."

They talk about the sexual freedom of gay culture in previous generations with a mixture of ridicule and envy. "We're not the generation that grew up in the seventies, " says Trevor. "Where fucking the dogs and other guys and then women and then the sink and the couch. And this is not the eighties where you're like in the bathhouses, and poppers ­he mimics snorts something up his nose­; "and cocaine, and drugs and everything's heavy I mean, we were growing up at that time where it was like, Oh. Sex. AIDS, You die.

But without the experience of actually seeing their friends die, it's still easy for young gay men, like all young people, to persist in feeling immortal. Trevor continues: "If it's not like right up in our face, like Pedro Zamora, Ah, y Pedro!, we don't believe it."

They've done HIV education for everyone from convicted teenage felons to the junior league. But they're frustrated because even their best safer sex education is still scatter-shot damage control.

"There was one child [in one of our groups] who had a child, "Trevor says."And girlfriend didn't even know about her body or how it worked"

"About her menstrual cycle," Adamo interrupts.

"You know what I am saying?" Trevor continues, "Menstrual cycle. Base thing. And we're actually talking about the five transmission body fluids, and girl friend doesn't even know about breast milk."

They wish sex education in school was constant from first grade on, Adamo, being analytical, compares sex to math:

"We're trying to teach people to go from addition to calculus in, like, an hour and a half You have to start at an early age with addition, subtraction, multiplication, geometry, and then you can work up to calculus. And calculus is like sex, when you finally decide to have sex."

They grow solemn when they start talking about what they're actually seeing among their friends. "I'll tell you right now, " Adamo says, [One of my best friends] has become infected. He probably was infected at the age of 22. And he tested positive almost 2 years ago Two other very close friend of mine have recently confided in me that they had unprotected anal sex, like in the last 3 months."

"Last year this time I couldn't even, say, like maybe name five people I know that have HIV," says Trevor. "Now this is like, oh boy, boyfriend got it, and girlfriend got it too, oh and did you just hear that he got it too?. These are all people I know. Some of them are people I even had sex with."

"It freaks me out," Adamo says, "And two of the people I mention that had [unsafe] sex, their very informed. And then, because its so right next to me, I was like, what if I do this? What if I decide to have unsafe sex even with everything I know? And its really upsets me. It's like if they're making this choice, maybe I might."

While Adamo begins to describe some of the things that help him stick with safer sex, Trevor is clowning around, pretending to be dying of thirst to get the waiter's attention. But when Adamo starts speculating about why his friends are slipping up, Trevor suddenly comes back to earth.

"I can speak on that, " he says. "Because I'm one of those that backslid. Educator, Out there doing HIV education I've been having unsafe sex with this 40 year old man for the last four, five, six months"

"But you stopped right?" Adamo want to be reassured.

"No, still haven't. I can't break the chain."

"When's the last time?"

"Something like two weeks ago."

Adamo looks frightened. He puts his arm around Trevor, seemingly as much to get support as to offer it.

"Here I am HIV/AIDS education diva, " Trevor says. "I know how to get infected etc.You know, they said it perfectly in here" He points to Michael Warner's Village Voice article, which talks about the second wave of infection, that Adamo brought along.

"First it was the self-esteem issues, don't like myself very much, don't think I'm very attractive, whatever, looking for affirmation. Then I would get depressed. I get depressed a lot. So its like a pick-me-up. Since I don't drink or anything else, sex is like, Yeah, I feel so much better now. But then it's like a drug that picks you up and you fall even lower.

"First this guy was very resistant to safe sex. And for the first time things started to, when we were having sex, everything was cool, and then I was like forcing him, like, No, you use a condom. Don't do that. But there were certain things that were played around with, like a little penis in the anus, poking outside, playing with it...Oh, stop it, stop teasing. The next time, a little bit more, the next time just a little bit more, then a little lube and next thing you know...Oh, shit. And here you are at home. You've crossed the line once and that makes it so much easier the next time."

"It's not about having it in the sex shops, It's the bedrooms. Its where your more comfortable . If you do it with stranger...I'd be like, condom! But since I'd known him for a while it was just so much easier. And then after the first time, I said, 'You know we put each other at risk for HIV?' He said, 'Why are you scaring me?' I was like, 'I am not scaring you, I'm telling you what we did.' I was hoping he would feel guilty and it would not happen again. It happened again he called me and said can I come over, and I am like. Okay."

"So, like, I don't want to get tested because I don't want to know."

This isn't the first time that Trevor has had unprotected sex, but the last time was in a monogamous relationship with a lover who was also HIV negative. "I know he's out there doing this with other people," he says, "And I'm an educator, knowing if he is doing this with me, that he is doing it with other people. Lord knows how many other partners he may have. But then I sit there and I still do it, and it drives me absolutely out of my mind."

Adamo interrupts him. He wants to talk about why he's not having unsafe sex. After all, he's under the same pressures as Trevor.

"I have certain goals for my future, for my life, for the gay community," he says. "I'm not going to give in to becoming a statistic, like this percentage that's supposed to seroconvert by the time they're 30."

Trevor doesn't think becoming of those statistics would be so bad. "Well, if I do become HIV positive, then since I'm such a big mouth as an activist anyway, I would be a more effective tool." He is half-ironic, half-sincere. "I'd be so out there, 'Look I am HIV positive'. I'm fierce and..."

"Cutting edge gay," Adamo pipes up.

Trevor really believes he'd be a more effective educator if he were HIV positive, "I'm a perfectionist. And what more perfect way to teach about HIV/AIDS then to be someone HIV positive, who went through it."

Adamo seems horrified, but he tries not to look judgmental.

"So you have a self-fulfilling..."

"...Sort of," Trevor says. "But then there's peer pressure that I'm dealing with which is very deep I just found out my sister, she's not my sister but a really good friend, just found out she was HIV positive"

This is another new one for Adamo.

"Did he really?" he asks softly. He knows the friend Trevor is talking about.

"Yes, he did. And [he]'s a total mirror of myself AIDS drains you, it takes the life out of you. And to see a life energy in front of me like that, that's just like a mirror of me, go away, I'd rather be shivering, trembling with it, together, going out together, stars going out together"

This is too much for Adamo. He doesn't' want to be left this way.

"He's been having unprotected sex, and so has another friend of ours, and another friend of ours is positive, and my other best friend is positive, and I'm negative and I am having protected sex. What am I going to do, what's going to be going on when I'm in my thirties? Like, am I going to lose all these people? I can't deal with that."

"I don't really hang out that much with men in there mid and late thirties who went through losing all their friends. But the ones that I have really talked to, it's so sad. That's why I don't like them. Because they come out of this environment and experience of sadness and mourning and loss and I don't want to touch that, you know? And I don't want that to happen to me. I don't want to be one of those people I mean, I'd rather be one of those people then seroconvert. But it's going to very difficult to be living a life where I lose all these people."

Trevor wears a medallion Adamo Gave him, one of those things you get from a coin-operated machine. Stamped around its perimeter is the message BIG MOMMA LOVE AEMAO. It was supposed to say Adamo, but Adamo hit the E by mistake. Big Momma is a reference to a play Trevor was in. He wears it like a good-luck charm. It makes sense that Adamo gave it to him: For his own efforts to stay negative to be worthwhile, Adamo needs Trevor to protect himself.

"For me," Trevor says, "HIV and AIDS is like a very comforting slow suicide. Its not like BOOM, jump, Its not like BOOM, take the gun. Its slow suicide. Its sort of like playing Russian Roulette, nearly, but it's a lot calmer, It's like you shot yourself but you don't know you got shot yet."

Adamo asks softly "Why are you shooting yourself in the first place?"

[Afterwords: Whew, there was a lot going on here! There is Adam and our very codependent relationship, in so many instances we're finishing each others sentences, but I think even then the lines between plutonic and romantic were being blurred. There was an intimacy in our friendship that belie a strictly plutonic categorization, albeit sexual lines were never crossed. It goes without saying this is the subtext that laces this interview, and something I can see clearly as I can see his face in my mind.

I actually forgot how in-sync we used to be. But then you add his friends, my friends, our mutual friends to the canvas and it adds so much more color, depth and texture. The final touches are our peers whom are seroconverting and those struggling to remain safe, it was an excellent snapshot of the mid-nineties, all of this while trying to figure who we were, what we wanted, and trying to make our way in this still very much AIDS-world.

I was only a handful of years out of college where I should have actually been graduating as a senior, but my homelessness lead to me leaving in an attempt to have more stability, and establish a home for myself. The one thing that I know now, that I didn't know then is the role my sexual abuse as a child played into my sense of self-worth, esteem and value.

The writer did an excellent job capturing our humanity, and I sincerely applaud her efforts there, but with time and distance there is another angle that should have been broached, additional factors that may be at play that distinguish Adam and my own struggle. It is noteworthy that Adam was a whyte cisgendered, educated, affluent man and I was a Black gender non-conforming, semi-educated, dark-skinned person from a lower class background. I realize as a cisgendered whyte lesbian woman she may not have wanted to explore our socially economical differences especially since there wasn't a clear visual that accompanied the article. But to me in hindsight its a noticeable omission, and adds another level of nuance to the story.

Let's be clear revisiting this time period and the extremely complex emotional, psychological, and social issues I was dealing with only a year after earning the right to drink, I applaud myself for having the presence of mind and sense of agency to own my behavior and the consequences of those actions. So many young people these days seem to abhor culpability in favor of blaming everyone but themselves for their behavior and misdeeds, I am glad to see that I was never one of them.

Navigating sexual desires, versus common sense is complicated even for the most mature of adults. Add peer pressure, drugs, alcohol and a hot piece of ass, and all good sense will end up on the floor like your discarded underwear. For a young person to understand what is right, but then having to maneuver the landmine of their emotions, insecurities and past traumas to attempt to make the right solution is asking a lot of anyone. I admire myself now and then for having the audacity to vocalize the hard truths of the situation, Adam may have been the analytical one, but I was all heart, speaking truth to power.

Clearly I am not dead, and I didn't seroconvert before thirty, my choices may have been hard for my friend, but ultimately they were my choices, and they should have been respected. Its sad to say that these very issues were the exact ones that ended the friendship fourteen year later. Adam had a hard time distinguishing what he felt and what I wanted and needed, and it lead to him conflating some misdeeds that someone else had done to him, with me perpetrating the same to other. Nothing could have been farther from the truth.

Time hopefully gives you wisdom, and I can now see the toxic nature of the codependency we had developed, and how that tainted what could have been a great friendship. The irony isn't lost on me that he became a therapist and if anyone should have understood the unhealthy signs it should have been him. But seeing his own faults was always a blindspot for Adam, spending his days helping folks find their own truths, he often shied away from and avoided his own, that has never been my faith.

My thoughts on my relationship with Adamo https://www.tumblr.com/xtrablak674/742039691416780800/adamo-melaney

[Photo by Brown Estate]

[a-world-in-grey]

Honestly, I'm not sure exactly what the Lucis Caelums have in the archives about Adagium's Curse? It's not like they let anyone who manifested said curse live very long, so I don't see the Rogue or the Wanderer writing any of that information down where someone else could find it. I imagine they had journals, but I don't think the journals had anything about the Wanderer's magic, given how they had to hide it. @secret-engima what is in the royal archives about the Curse?

Fortunately, Sola never has to wonder if she's actually her Papa's daughter! She, unlike the court, is well aware that she has magic. She just has to keep it hidden because using it could hurt her and other people. But oh, if anyone dared voice those rumors in Sola's earshot? Well, the court wouldn't have to worry about Regis' wrath. No, they'd have a furious five year old tearing them a new one for 'saying mean things' about her Papa, Mama, and Uncle. One of her parents or uncles probably have to step in to carry Sola off somewhere so she can calm down. After which yes, Regis would probably set Cor on the court and terrify them into behaving.

Regis and Aulea spin the paternity test as something they do in order to shut the gossips up. After all, Regis and Aulea are 100% certain what the paternity test will show - and they only do it after the gossip upsets Sola and Regis is hoping the evidence will shut the court up because if they upset his daughter over this topic again he'll do worse than set Cor on them.

Baby Sola isn't thinking quite that far ahead when she decides she doesn't want to be Queen. For her it's more along the lines of 'I don't like these mean people, but Papa is King so he has to be nice to them which means if I become Queen I'll have to be nice to them.' Needless to say, Sola does not want to be nice to them. Ever.

Sola's not happy to have to stop using her magic, but she can feel how worried Papa is so she grudgingly goes along with it. She's less happy having to pretend she doesn't have magic at all, but Papa and Mama and Uncle Cor have never given her a reason not to trust them. She's still got a rudimentary sense of other people's magic, that's not something she can really turn off, but she gets really good at tucking her magic away inside her soul and not using it.

The Vitae have always kept an eye on the royal family, tracking when the children are old enough to go through the ritual and ensuring they're able to spy on it. Otherwise they probably have a small number of spies that rotate through living in Insomnia to keep abreast of local news in case there's something important they need to warn Galahd about.

After Regis decided to defy tradition and keep Sola? Two different Vitae infiltrated the Citadel staff in order to keep an eye on Sola in case they needed to quickly get her out of the city and to Galahd. Regis may be the Mother's child, but Galahdians don't take risks when there's children involved.

Noctis probably isn't cursed in this version. Partly because Regis having two children supposedly without magic would be impossible for even the king to pull off, and partly because of my personal hcs where it's only the eldest child who has the chance to inherit the gold magic.

Noctis would still be the prime target for kidnappers because he's the only one known to have magic, and therefore the only one capable of inheriting. Plus, Noctis wasn't trained by Cor the Immortal for five years. The kidnappers don't want to test if Sola's willing to expand her throat ripping tendencies to kidnappers instead of just assassins.

Wandering Vitae saw Noctis, noted the similar appearance to a number of Ulrics, and went 'wayward rebellious Ulric child somehow slipped past the Praesidium and Furia' instead of 'missing Kinslayer Prince.' No, Galahd is never going to let that Vitae live that down.

Oh, oh I really want the Galahdians to send Regis an apology letter, that's hysterical. Alas, I think the more likely scenario would be that they have a couple Vitae bring Noctis back to Insomnia because almost twenty years after the Wall fell or no, Galahd's still really cautious about letting in Outsiders. Especially Lucis Caelum Outsiders.

Ok, last one, I think (I could be wrong (: )

Sola and Thrown to the Wolves au. Specifically, the version where Regis never goes to Galahd, so all he knows is what Mors told him before he died and whatever he found in the archives.

Now please take a moment to imagine all the potential angst that comes from the fact that Regis' first baby is under Adagium's Curse. (Whatever that's supposed to mean, because the royal archives are surprisingly silent on the topic.) His tiny teeny baby girl who was born premature and who fought for her life so fiercely is supposed to be a monster in human skin.

I don't think Regis would ever abandon her, he's not called the Father for nothing. But he's certainly not going to have a good time in this verse. +Sola's less-than-human instincts would probably make things even worse.)

I'm always up for asks if you've got more! (they make for a great breather from studying for finals)

You are right. This is so angsty. >:)

Regis' heart breaks when he puts his little Sunshine through the ritual, when instead of needing the potion held in a white-knuckled grip, Sola's skin slowly knits back together under the faint glow of golden magic. But even as he holds his wailing daughter close, wiping away blood to reveal skin unmarred by so much as a scar, Regis knows he cannot abandon his daughter here. Adagium's Curse or no, Sola is a child. His child.

Regis leaves the broken shards of a potion and doesn't look back.

And the Vitae watching from the shadows wonder.

In this 'verse, Sola grows up having to hide her golden magic. This is not the time of the Rogue or the Wanderer, technology is everywhere and Regis cannot risk Sola living beyond the Wall with the war in an uneasy ceasefire.

The court believes Sola without magic, and rumors abound of Sola not being Regis' daughter at all. Sola looks so like her mother, but she acts much like Cor, and it doesn't take long for the gossips to speculate that Cor and Aulea were having an affair behind Regis' back.

No one in the royal family is amused.

Even after a paternity test is provided to shut up the worst of the gossips, the court pushes against Sola as Regis' heir. Surely the Ring will not accept one without magic, they argue. And for all Regis tries to shelter Sola from the court, he cannot stop everything from reaching the ears of his sharp little girl.

When Sola, all of five years old, tells him that she refuses to be Queen, Regis' heart breaks all over again.

None of the adults tell Sola the truth of her golden magic. They tell her that she cannot use it because it will hurt her and those around her, but they do not tell her about Adagium's Curse. Regis and Aulea hope, that with love and care, their bright and fierce Sun will not grow up to be the monster described in faded legends.

Oh, they see her less than human instincts. Watching Sola so closely, they'd have to be blind to miss them. They worry, because they think this the grain of truth to the legend, a manifestation of the Curse.

And yet... Sola isn't malicious. She's fiercely protective to the point of bordering on possessiveness, more inclined to attack first and ask questions later if she perceives a threat to Hers. But Sola doesn't attack anyone who doesn't attack or threaten her or hers first. She never subjects anyone to abject cruelty. If Regis hadn't seen Adagium's Curse first hand, he'd think Sola simply too similar in temperament to Cor.

Then Sola tears out a man's throat with her teeth.

In the aftermath, Sola's fairly certain she wasn't supposed to overhear Regis, Clarus, and Cor talking in Papa's office. But she does, and she overhears 'Curse' and 'not-human', and Sola's already heard more than a few people referring to her as a monster these past few days to realize that Papa and her uncles are talking about her.

Sola sneaks around the library looking for anything she can on curses, dodging suspicion from her papa and uncles by insisting that she's more than old enough to find her own books. One of the librarians, a woman with really cool dark eye makeup and lipstick, helps Sola with her research. Unfortunately, Sola's unable to find the answers she's looking for, but one afternoon when she's curled up with Noctis for an afternoon nap, Sola resolves that Curse or not, monster or not, she will protect her little brother. No matter what.

When Sola's old enough to formally apprentice to Cor, Regis shares his magic with her, as Noctis is still too young yet to properly create a Retinue bond. There's no question Sola is Noctis' Sword, just as there's no question that Gladio and Ignis are his Shield and Heart, but they're planning to wait until Noctis is at least sixteen.

Only, Noctis gets kidnapped before that can happen, then picked up by a wandering Vitae and brought back to Galahd.

Where originally Noctis would be utterly baffled by Galahd's insistence that Regis was a bad father, Galahd knows how Regis loves and cares for Sola despite her so-called 'curse.' Galahd knows it to be no curse, knows Sola's non-human instincts instead come from the Draconian's Blessing (Galahd's been dealing with those same dragon instincts for millennia, they know it when they see it and Sola's very dragon).

Regis knows none of this. He had every reason to abandon baby Sola to her death and erase her from the records.

He didn't. He lied. He kept her hidden, kept her safe and loved as best he could, and the handful of Vitae spies hidden amongst the Citadel staff have seen it all.

It seems the Father is the Mother's child after all.

When Regis and Sola arrive, Regis demanding to know where his son is with Sola's rumbling growl reverberating through their bones, Sola's growl cuts off with a jerk of surprise when one of the Furia trills at her, reassurance-Hoard-safe-not-seeking-fight brushing up against the embers of gold magic suppressed inside her soul. Sola stares at the Furia with wide eyes, because no one, not even Uncle Cor for all his growls and chuffs, has ever responded in such a way to her.

Things get sorted out, and before they leave for Insomnia, Sola and Noctis and Regis get to meet their aunt/sister and cousin/nephew, and Sola's given an invitation to come back to Galahd to properly train her gold magic.

@secret-engima if you want to add anything from Galahd's perspective feel free to join in!

[chalkrevelations]

SO. Back to the beginning, Episode 1 of Word of Honor. This is likely to be a little bit different experience than the prior posts, when I was watching the eps as they aired, compared to now approaching the show as whole and complete. May be rummaging around for things I missed the first time through, stuff that takes on new meaning set in additional context – we’ll see how it goes.

With that in mind, spoilers for not just this ep but possibly for the entire series. Get out of the car now and come back later, if you haven’t seen all 36.5 eps and want to watch it unspoiled.

First thing to strike me, right up front: You know, I think we tend to lose sight in later parts of the show – when we’re getting Laopo!Zhou Zishu pouting so he doesn’t have to cook dinner - how terrifying ZZS is in his own right (and by “we,” I actually mean the show, too). One of the things the first few episodes gets right, I think, is the sense of eerie inevitability and dread created by both the falling lanterns of Tian Chuang and the blowing paper figures of the Ghost Valley, and how similar they are. I think it’s easy to lose that - when the lanterns and the paper figures are gone and our charming and adorable couple are busy being charming and adorable at each other, in between varying rounds of being wracked by guilt and PTSD – easy to lose that this is there too, part of them – both of them - under the skin. I think it’s particularly easy to lose that for ZZS, when he’s already done a lot of work, off-screen, pre-Episode 1, during the 18 months he was putting in those first six Nails, to come to some kind of equilibrium, and meanwhile we watch Wen Kexing’s entire torturous process play out on-screen. Wen Kexing’s story is one of reaching an equilibrium, but Zhou Zishu’s story is one of maintaining it, which I think may be less showy, but is equally valuable, just as I value the Four Seasons Manor arc, especially, for giving us a vibe of two adults comfortable in an already intimate relationship, as opposed to the veritable sea of will-they-won’t-they tug-of-war coming-together-for-the-first-time-as-emotional-AND-plot climax relationships that we’re usually awash in.

Anyway, straight up we’re introduced to an assassin who, we discover, doesn’t like to get blood on himself. It looks like metaphorical blood is fine, just not actual blood, but then we discover, well, maybe he’s not as OK with metaphorical blood as he schools himself to look. Also that conversation with Li Jingan about her dad having to die because he’s a traitor to the country – I now wonder how much of that particular conversation Zhou Zishu mentally brings to the table in later conversations about his own father being executed for the same reason. Also, wait wait wait. Zhou Zishu tells Jingan that he took Jiuxiao’s body back to Four Seasons Manor and buried him next to their shifu, but I don’t remember seeing another grave there, other than Qin Huaizhang’s and his wife’s. Script inconsistency, or are you supposed to be lying, ZZS? I mean, would you be so downcast at the state of Four Seasons Manor when you arrive with your husband and son for your honeymoon, if you’d actually been there only a couple of years before? It didn’t fall to pieces overnight. Also, HAIRPIN FORESHADOWING ALERT. Our first sign of how important the hairpin is, the way ZZS’s impassive face cracks wide open when he sees the hairpin that Jiuxiao made and realizes he must have given it to Jingan. Clearly important!

Mmm. Here’s a point for the “Prince Jin is a f’kn asshole” list – Prince Jin wants ZZS to deal with Bi Changfeng personally when Bi Changfeng requests to leave Tian Chuang. And OK, ZZS is the leader of Tian Chuang. But you’re never going to convince me Prince Jin wants ZZS to deal with it personally because Prince Jin is actually so very furious that Bi Changfeng made a mistake. You will never convince me this isn’t a … it’s not even a test of loyalty, at this point, because Prince Jin has no reason to think yet that ZZS is anything other than the faithful hunting dog on a leash that he’s been, lo, these many years. Putting ZZS in a position where not only is he losing the last of the direct disciples of Four Seasons Manor, but he’s being asked to (as good as) kill him with his own hands - it’s just cruelty for the proof of your power and influence over someone. Also, given Prince Jin’s later diatribe about how everyone leaves him OMG (have you considered it’s your personality?) (But also Beiyuan! I know who you are now, and yeah, I would have let Wu Xi bride-kidnap me away from this jerk, too), I have to wonder if Prince Jin isn’t trying to make ZZS feel exactly as isolated as he, himself, feels, as part of his overall desire to make sure that ZZS has no one other than Prince Jin so that their positions are parallel – only having each other in the whole world. I also have to wonder if he’s not hoping for precisely the reaction ZZS has to Bi Changfeng – you’d rather be dead than be with me? Because that hurts, you can see it on ZZS’s face (thanks already, Zhang Zhehan), and I rather suspect Prince Jin wants it to hurt. I notice we get an echo of this later in the ep, with Prince Jin saying pretty much the same thing when ZZS asks for the final Nail. GOOD. I hope it hurts you just as much. I wonder if ZZS realizes this while he’s kneeling there in the throne room. It’s probably too late for him to get any satisfaction out of it.

OH, HEY. That’s HAN YING already, one of the two people accompanying ZZS to put down Bi Changfeng, looking super-pained like he knows what this is all costing his beloved. Han Ying, I really hope you got to tap that at least a few times before ZZS made his break for it. Is that one of the reasons Prince Jin seems to have such antipathy for you, or is it really just that he can’t stand the idea of someone whose loyalty to ZZS is greater than their loyalty to Prince Jin, himself? (Seriously, y’all, why is there not much much more Han Ying/ZZS fic?) Meanwhile Duan Pengju, omg, this asshole, is already looking smug and punchable. Really, he’s kind of enjoying the Seven Nails placement a little too much. Showing your hand pretty fast on the petty evil thing, show.

So, one thing I didn’t catch the first time around, is that ZZS isn’t just self-injuring to punish himself when he takes the knife to his chest – he re-opens wounds on all the places where the first six Nails have already been placed, so it will look like the placement is fresh. If you can’t tell he hasn’t just put them in, there’s no reason for anyone else (read: Prince Jin) to suspect he’s bought himself some time before he loses his senses. As far as anyone knows, he’s going to fall over with locked-in syndrome any day now. Which just makes the implications of Prince Jin vowing that he’s only letting him go for now EVEN ICKIER. For all Prince Jin knows, what he’s going to get back is a flesh doll that will just lie there, although I guess on the plus side, ZZS would never leave him again. Thanks, show, I need a shower, now.

ZZS says all the right things to argue his case to Prince Jin – he’s only good as a weapon, he has no skills nor utility for building and governing the country – and I think partly this is because he just knows the right things to say. I mean, you don’t become the Number Two guy in the country, with thousands under you and only one above you, if you can’t play imperial politics. But I also wonder if deep down he doesn’t actually believe it – he was successful at building Tian Chuang, but he couldn’t maintain Four Seasons Manor and even drove it to ruin. So, I’ll just be over here, clutching my chest, over my heart. Fortunately, Zhang Zhehan provides quick distraction from this pain, and I … Y’all. I can’t. I just. I CANNOT. When ZZS drops to his knees and starts stripping in the throne room. Just. Mmmmmrgh. THIS VISUAL. Although, you want to know what one of the hottest parts actually is? That pair of leather bracers hitting the floor on top of his belt, and ZZS isn’t even in the shot at that point. OK, fine, I am willing to read some dirtybadwrong fic with this whole scene premise at its heart, even if it does include Prince Jin. Zhang Zhehan, you are KILLING ME. I might have rewound this part. More than once. You can’t prove anything.

Aaaand then we get that gorgeous, painful shot of ZZS riding out into the snow that I know I’ve talked about before (including the way I get an odd echo of Lan Xichen off of it). There are several places in this ep where the cinematography is to die for, and this is one of them, the bleakness of the landscape and Zhang Zhehan (and his FACE) deep in that shadowing cloak against the stark snow as he rides out into freedom and the unknown. Then cut to somewhere green and forested. Interesting that the show starts with snow and ends with snow. That parallel with the imperial cage says some things about immortality that could stand to be unpacked – but later. Because ZZS is putting his face on – literally – and I am once again in pain, only it’s not the good kind of pain. It’s caused by that dreadful fake facial hair. There are some things that could be unpacked here, as well, about the fact that making ZZS supposedly unattractive involves a clearly fake goatee, a single aesthetically placed scar, and darkening his skin. I’m going to try to step carefully here, because this is kind of out of my lane, but it is … a noticeable thing. That probably ought to be noted.

So, ZZS takes just a moment to turn his (fake) face up to the sun and feel the warmth on it … and then with 10 minutes left, we’re on our way to Ghost Valley, where there’s some chaos and then Hanging Ghost gets got by a Mysterious Stranger To Be Revealed Later, who chokes him out (remember this). The Mysterious Master of Ghost Valley appears dramatically on his High Ledge to Make Some Pronouncements while playing with some walnuts omg (rolling two of them in one hand – remember this), and we see his eyes, which are partially obscured by chunky sidebangs, which are farther forward on his forehead than we’re going to see later, not only hiding some of his face but making it look more angular. The troops get berated, shit rolls downhill, and another dude gets choked (remember this) as Ghost Valley Master’s hair continues to artfully hide most of his face and he worries about his manicure post-kill (remember this). War is declared on Hanging Ghost for stealing the Glazed Armor, and more chaos is set into motion.

All of that takes literally two minutes, and then we cut to three months later, and no one realizes it yet, but the fam is getting together. ZZS is tits out in the gutter - only beginning his career of being a minx who flashes his collarbones an awful lot for someone who has Very Secret Scars He’s Hiding On His Chest - happily drinking himself to death in the sun (we really need to talk about this correlation of snow and immortality vs. sun and happiness …). Meanwhile, slo-mo shot of Wen Kexing looking precious and perfect, with delicate pink lips and dove-grey robes, as he checks out the rough trade in the gutter. Oh, the expectations this show is getting ready to smash. We cut from a shot of pristine precious WKX to ZZS holding up his hand, and we get a shot of the sun through ZZS’s fingers looking an awful lot like some shots of characters halo’d in light that we’ll get back to much much later in the show. Chengling appears out of nowhere to be Best Boy. A-Xiang is purple and smol and ready to brawl, and I already love her. I already love them all!  So much! Here are my delicate and precious feelings, show, go ahead and stomp all over them!

[prorevenge]

Ridiculed, accused of lying and incompetence, I shoved burning facts down their throats and made a successful business in the process.

"The best revenge is massive success." -Frank Sinatra

TL;DR; Told I was lying and didn't know anything about game design. Made a spite video game that became a huge hit. Jackass is also forever immortalized within the game credits.

PREFACE

This is a very unusual story compared to the typical posts you've read here. There's a lot to unpack but I'll try to summarize everything as best I can.

I hope you'll find it as entertaining as I did. And, what's great about this story is that it happened very recently, it happened here, evidence is searchable, and it's still kinda on-going. It's a tale of trolls, video game addiction, self-righteous arrogance, harassment, winning an impossible bet, a viral hit in Russia, and massive success with even some little revenge sprinkles for added measure.

Quick background about me: I've worked with game developers for decades and I'm an avid researcher and supporter of unorthodox and ethical video games used for educational and clinical purposes.

HOW IT STARTED

Two months ago, there was a new reddit post about "using video game to ease depression" that caught my attention.

The reason it caught my attention was because it was a game & study that I had in-depth knowledge of (from over a year prior.) Unlike everyone else in the thread, I was the only one who had actually seen the game, played it, knew the developers, and even had the original technical game design documents.

The article discussed a variety of topics but never addressed exactly HOW the video game was able to ease depression. So, I provided a quickly summary of what the game actually did.

[SKIP THIS SECTION IF NEUROSCIENCE & GAME DESIGN DON'T INTEREST YOU]

A quick side note about this article, for those that like extra details: One of the cool properties of ketamine is that, not only can it provide rapid and temporary relief for depression, it also actively heals damaged brain circuits. Then there's dopamine. A chemical that we internally produce, that has similar but less potent effects. There is no cure for depression, but these are promising treatments for some. The article focused on what's called "flow". Using certain game design methods you can induce a "flow state" by causing a sustained dopamine release. When used ethically, it can be highly beneficial in stimulating/training the brain to perform certain activities, improve or learn memorization, adapt to challenges, learn new concepts, exercise motor skills, and meanwhile rebuild pathways/synapses. While all of this is happening, the user is receiving pleasurable rewards without realizing it. This process can create new pathways, repair old circuits, and increasing their neuroplasticity. Increased neuroplasticity means improved cognitive functioning, reducing impairment of the reward process, and improving the effectiveness of antidepressant medications. Video games can be a unique non-drug option to accomplish this while easing symptoms. Research has already shown that many popular games can already accomplish this (unintended effects by the game developers). By comparison, the game design they used in this theoretical study was highly limited in scope, so permanent benefits were negligible compared to the temporary respite brought about by basic dopamine release. Science is still barely scratching the surface of neurotransmitters and flow state. There are still many unknowns, but dopamine isn't just a pleasure chemical that the media would like you to be believe. It can do quite a number of things. Research has shown that "flow state" can modify synaptic plasticity, improve connectors between cells/synapses, ultimately helping cells in the brain communicate better as a network and improve neural system intrinsic properties.

My summary posting was fine for a while, until predictable trolls arrived led by an "armchair game developer". Dr. Armchair definitely did not appreciate my post. It was an affront and insult to his profession. Within a few minutes, it dropped 30 karma. I don't care about imaginary internet points but I don't like being accused of lying. Dr. Armchair and his pals started with the usual "do you even lift?" Then it was quickly asserted, from their armchairs, that I knew nothing about flow, psychology, dopamine or game design at all. From their high horses, they contributed nothing useful; only taunts, defamation, attacking my character and physical appearance, and accusing me of being a liar and incompetence.

Apparently it was a very sensitive topic. Who knew?

It quickly devolved into Dr. Armchair gleefully, and repeatedly claiming, that he won, he was right, and I was wrong. He demanded that I essentially write a 300 page peer-reviewed study to prove him wrong, and when it couldn't be provided within 5 minutes, there were more gleeful cheers of "HAHA! I WAS RIGHT! I WAS RIGHT! I'M NOT LISTENING TO YOU LALALALALA.."

Obviously, it was going to be impossible to reason with Dr. Armchair and his buddies. But actions speak louder than words.

So, I claimed that I would provide undeniable proof in the form of a video game "a few months from now" that he could actually play for himself. Once again, claiming that I was lying and it was impossible. And more of the usual "It's been 5 minutes, where is it? Oh, you can't do it can you. HA! I was right! I BEAT YOU! I BEAT YOU!"

It was weird.

Eventually the mods had enough. Dr. Armchair and his cronies harassment, ad hominem attacks, accusations and inflammatory attacks resulted in multiple posts being removed. But my promise still stood and I fully intended on keeping it.

THE BOLD CLAIM

The plan was simple:

Create a proof of concept that demonstrates just the critical neuroscience principles that induce flow. To prove it beyond a doubt, I intended to also prove that MOST COMMON INGREDIENTS of a game are completely UNNECESSARY to accomplish this.

So, I made the very confident claim that the game would still be fun, addictive, and demonstrate flow state, even after ripping everything out:

No extras or frills. Built within a short period of time.

No music. No sound effects. No animations. No story.

No expensive art. In fact, hardly any at all: I would use ONE SINGLE ART ASSET for the gameplay (plus some lines.)

No feature creep. No sign-in system. No gacha mechanics.

No level design. No achievements. No RPG gamifications.

I could get at least a couple hundred people to play it.

I should have also mentioned that it would be built with ZERO BUDGET and NO MARKETING.

If this sounds like a strange way to make a game, it is. For a typical game developer, this would raise many eyebrows, and they'd consider it highly risky or improbable to achieve any success with both arms figurately tied behind your back while blindfolded.

HOW IT ENDED

While I was preparing to stress test the game online, it was discovered by .ru bots that were scouring the web for new games. Even before the game was ready, they published the game link on several Russian gaming sites.

The game exploded.

It has graphical similarities to Tetris, so it was a nice coincidence that the game essentially launched and did so well in Russia at first. After that, other game sites started discovering the game on their own too, even before I had a chance to submit the game myself. Most importantly, the proof of concept and everything I claimed worked (high ratings and retention). It proved so effective that the game is currently being played by hundreds of thousands of users worldwide. And it's a clear demonstration about the importance of combining psychology and game design.

I suppose you could say that there are many layers of revenge happening here, maybe even karmic justice or backfiring on their part, it's really hard to classify. The best kind of revenge is always massive success, and shoving it in their faces, however. But, on top of that, I also fully kept to my promises while proving these ignorant individuals so wrong they look like fools.

I also added some extra salt to the wound. I figured that success of the game was partly due to Dr. Armchair's ignorance. It was only fair that I included his name within the Game Credits. So, I officially gave this very wonderful human being a very "special thanks" for their support in making this success possible.

(source) story by (/u/postfu)

[lovelikedestiny]

2. Nile: But I've lost your war

Two mirrors deep as sky and sea,

can see your bare soul, always testing.

Humming an indefinite melody, Nile pours the boiling water into the waiting cup and notes with subliminal amusement that Copley has a small sieve for loose tea in his household because his British-American heart would probably come to a standstill if he were to use bagged tea.

Exactly this sieve, together with the loose fruit tea that she found in a cupboard, is now in the cup that she intended for Nicky and she watches for a few seconds, lost in thought, how the water turns red. Involuntarily, the memory of Nicky's bloody hands and Joe's face contorted with panic rises in her and Nile blinks frantically, clears her throat and turns to the coffee pot.

The freshly brewed coffee gives off a strong, familiar smell as she pours it into the other cups and after she has placed all the filled cups on a tray, she carefully carries it into the living room. Just because she's suddenly immortal and injuries heal in seconds, doesn't mean Nile is particularly keen on scalding herself on spilling fluids.

When she enters, Copley looks up from his laptop, almost relieved, and Nile strongly suspects that this is not only because he is longingly waiting for the caffeine in the coffee, but also because he is still a long way from warming up with the other immortals . Nile doesn't have particularly friendly feelings towards him either, but at least she behaves normally in his presence and doesn't announce in every word that she will kill him should he make a serious mistake and betray their trust.

Quite different from Joe, who is as open with his feelings as always and rubs his skepticism and distrust at every opportunity in Copley's face. And to be honest, Nile can't blame him in the slightest. After all, it was partly Copley's fault that he and Nicky were tortured in the lab. What brings her to the problem child in their group.

Nicky.

A protector, Joe called him affectionately when he went shopping with Nile and Nicky and Nicky seemed content to stroll after them, eyes on their surroundings. The soul, Andy said with the rare look of tenderness on her face as Nicky kept an eye on the pan in the kitchen, singing softly. And even Booker said to Nile in the cave when he told her a little about Joe and Nicky: Joe wears his heart on his sleeve and manages to cast a spell over everyone with his charm and his radiant smile, his passion. And Nicky...Nicky is the guardian.

At the time, Nile didn't know what he meant by that. Now the meaning becomes more and more clear to her. And she just doesn't think it's fair. Doesn't think it's fair that Nicky is sitting next to Joe on the sofa with pale cheeks and a thick blanket around his shoulders, and that not only Joe is deeply worried by his deteriorating condition, but also Andy.

And for some reason, Nile didn't expect this situation to throw Andy, the ever steadfast, ancient warrior who stoically accepted her sudden mortality, off too. It reminds her how long Andy, Nicky and Joe have known each other and how deep their family bond goes and although Nile has only been part of this team for a few weeks, she doesn't feel excluded but strangely welcome in any way.

The cups clink softly as she sets the tray down on the living room table and she places the teacup with a small saucer for the tee strainer in front of Nicky. “Here Nicky, I made you tea. Really classy with Copley's little tea strainer.” It still hurts her heart to speak about her family, but she does it anyway. "My mom always said that tea makes everything better."

"Your mother passed her wisdom on to her daughter," Nicky says with a smile and pulls the cup closer to him to put his hands around the warm vessel with a barely audible sigh. "Thank you, Nile."

“Thank you, Nile. Coffee is exactly what I need now.” Joe leans forward with a dramatic groan and skillfully fishes for one of the other cups. He inhales the scent deeply, but immediately leans back into his previous position, balancing the mug on one knee and casually wrapping his arm around Nicky.

"No problem, I like to shine with my ability to operate the kettle,” Nile replies with a grin and threatens to raise a finger in front of Nicky. "And don't you dare to not finish the tea. Then I'll force you to do it with my puppy eyes and it won't be pleasant.”

"Oh, habibi, I would listen to her." Joe chuckles gently into his cup. "We don't want you to be the focus of their puppy eyes."

Nicky's mouth twists into the barely noticeable smile, which Nile has come to appreciate very much. “Very well, Nile. I will follow your instructions nicely.”

She winks at the couple and then continues her round, pushes a cup into Andy 's hand, who is standing by the window and stares out, and then she hands one to Copley before she takes the last one. After blowing softly, she takes a sip of the bitter brew.

Nobody complains that it's just plain coffee, which is partly due to the fact that Nile still doesn't know exactly how her team members prefer coffee and partly because she didn't feel like turning Copley's kitchen upside down. He offered to help her make the coffee, but Nile politely declined - the more he sits at his laptop, the sooner he will hopefully find an answer to Nicky's inexplicable condition.

Copley didn't seem offended by her refusal and thanks her for the coffee with a small smile and a nod, doesn't make a face as he takes a sip and looks at his screen again.

The only approach they have right now is the laboratory, because everything that has happened in that context was their last mission. And while they'd been under the radar to get used to the new situation, nothing suspicious had happened. They'd always been together, so it's impossible that just Nicky caught anything, especially since their immortality should have cured that certain something long ago.

“In all of the material I've found on Merrick's servers and in his building, I couldn't find anything that would explain why Nicky is in his current state,” Copley informs them, without taking his attention off his laptop. “I deleted everything to erase your traces and destroyed any samples from the lab. There is no evidence of your existence or any connection to what happened at Merrick's."

"And the bitch of a doctor?" Andy still has his back to them, but it's more than obvious that she asked Copley.

Continue reading on AO3 ;)

[dreaming-of-assclass]

Oooooo if 3-E were supernatural creatures who would be what 👀👀👀

Oooohh this is interesting to think about! I’m sorry, I don’t know a lot haha so I did some research to have more options!!

Karma: Demon

I feel like I don’t need to elaborate on this too much lmao. The boy is mischievous, LOVES to mess with mortals for no reason. When he’s feeling a particularly strong emotion, usually rage, excitement, etc, his eyes glow a shade of yellow-gold (like what canon showed)

Isogai: Demi-God

His crazy perfection in everything has to come from somewhere. His father was a God who left his realm and lost his immortality to be with Isogai’s mother, a mortal. Isogai only became aware of his heritage after his father’s passing.

Okajima: Half-Angel

LMAO I mostly picked this for the irony, but it kinda fits ngl. He’s generally a good, loyal, kind person and a very good friend. His perverted nature is his one big flaw and comes from the influence of his mortal father, who was his main guardian since his mother remained on Heaven.

Okano: Werewolf

I’m gonna credit this one to @greengargouille haha. They made a wonderful post about this idea that I still adore with my whole heart. But yeah, Okano being a badass werewolf with crazy athleticism and defying femininity expectations? Yes please.

Okuda: Witch

She excels in potion-making, of course. She comes from a long line of witches and magic-users in her family. So she feels quite a bit of pressure to be successful. She’s very talented but needs a tad bit more of control in her magic.

Kataoka: Mermaid

This one shouldn’t be a surprise haha. She’s a very strong and powerful swimmer...but where does all that raw talent come from? Surprise, Megu is a mermaid and she can transform between her physical forms at will. She loves the water because it’s her home and what she knows best.

Kayano: Part-Phoenix

I don’t know how this works and how someone can be part-Phoenix lmao, but it fits her way too well. A being that goes out in flames and starts a new life...isn’t that basically what Kayano did after her reveal? Her new life is her going by Akari again and showing her true colors to the class.

Kanzaki: Goddess

She’s apart of a very royal family of gods...all with ridiculously high standards and little respect for her. Kanzaki is very powerful and has so much raw potential but she’s never been able to show it. Her best skills are teleportation, invisibility, and a strong grasp on aerokinesis.

Kimura: Centaur

I’m serious about this one lmao. He’s a very fast runner and impresses everyone, and it’s thanks to his strong physique and raw energy in centaur form. Don’t worry, he can shape-shift back to a human form, but he hates it because he loses his height and is back to being 160 cm.

Kurahashi: Fairy

Of course, this bright, sunny, cheerful sweet girl could only be a fairy. She has a very strong connection to nature and wildlife, to the point that if they’re harmed, she feels the pain. Her wings are very tiny at age 14 can easily hide underneath her clothes. But by adulthood, they’re grown and able to use for flight.

Nagisa: Half-Ghoul

Surprise...this soft boy is actually half-evil :’). His father is actually a ghoul, and Nagisa was very much unaware of it for all his life. Hiromi kept it a secret and tried to suppress that part of him too. Basically I imagine what it means for Nagisa is that death draws him, and his physiology is why he has such a high bloodlust. When he’s pushed to his limits, he’s terrifying... (cough Takaoka cough)

Sugaya: Wizard

He comes from a relatively average line of wizards, who all moved to the mortal realm and own artisan businesses. Sugaya wishes to do something similar and follow his passion for art. He mostly uses his magic for that, levitating his brushes, enhancing his work, creating new things. He’s quite talented at conjuring.

Sugino: Angel

Yes, I’m serious about this. Sugino is a very good person and always strives to lead others down the right path. He’s good at guiding, but even he wants to live for himself for once. So he learns what baseball is and grows a strong love for it.

Takebayashi: Wizard

Unlike Sugaya, he comes from a super prestigious line of successful and powerful wizards. His family is one of the top ones. He feels immense pressure to live up to them. His talents lie in fire magic, particularly creating explosions. And he’s a very skilled healer.

Chiba: Half-Dragon

Fitting considering his name 💜 He has the ability to change between his human and dragon form, but it’s very shaky for now. His eyes are a bright, terrifying shade of red, and it exposes his dragon heritage so he must hide it.

Terasaka: Half-Titan

His Titan physiology is the reason for his raw strength and physical prowess. He’s incredibly strong and has a high endurance, durability, stamina... He’s a talented fighter and will always use his advantage to protect his loved ones.

Nakamura: Siren

She hates being a siren so much. She has to deal with boring mortal guys all the time, who for some reason, love her voice. She gets a real kick out of fooling them though, and the pranks are always chaotic. Since she’s been having to sing and use her voice, she’s gotten the chance to learn many languages. She has an affinity for them, and wants to continue learning more.

Hazama: Witch

I know this is a little cliche. But in contrast to the potion-centered Okuda, Hazama excels in linguistic spells. She keeps a journal of every new one she learns, as well as images of herbs and such. She’s very interested in dark arts, but will only indulge in it with the presence of someone else, to make sure she doesn’t fall too deep.

Hayami: Witch

Wow I’m really repeating so many. Hayami is a very hardworking, talented witch. But she’s so focused on helping others, she tends to get taken advantage of unfortunately. She’s best at transfigurations, altering things to her (and others) liking. Her favorite test subject is Okajima. She’s quite talented in hand-to-hand combat and having kinetic vision, which helps in magic. She wants a cat as a familiar so badly.

Hara: Fairy

Hara says “fuck you” to the idea that fairies are traditionally small and frail. She’s proud of her physique and strength, and her interest in fighting. She’s still the sweetest fairy there could be, always looking after everyone and all of nature. She loves cooking and sharing it with as many people as she can find.

Fuwa: Ghost

Yep our crazy, lively Fuwa is a ghost! Specifically, she’s a poltergeist, the kind who try to create mischief in some way and move things around. The reason why Fuwa is kinda wild and open about her passions is so she can be noticed by people...if her presence isn’t being acknowledged, she loses her physical form and goes back to being a transparent spirit. It isn’t all bad though. Her favorite thing to do is read mangas in ghost form, so all people see is a floating copy of One Piece.

Maehara: Vampire

This one is a little cliche lmao, but he’s a vampire playboy who always ends up accidentally turning his girlfriends into vampires too with his bites. No one ever suspects him of being a vampire since he looks like sunshine incarnate. He’s quite reckless and has come close to being exposed multiple times, and Isogai always scolds him.

Mimura: Elf

Poor boy is a little insecure about being an Elf...he tries his best not to stand out, especially given his dad’s love for the spotlight. He is good at basic magic, slightly above average. His best talent and what he excels at is photokinesis. He uses it on his filming hobby, to change what’s on camera, adjust lighting, etc. He can go as far as even completely remove shadows from the sunlight.

Muramatsu: Alchemist

He comes from a relatively average family of alchemists that used their abilities for culinary purposes. He enjoys it a lot, and is very talented. He prefers to rely on physical prowess when it comes to fights, but is able to use his alchemy additionally.

Yada: Vampire

Yada is the hot vampire girlfriend we all wish we had 😔 Just kidding haha. But yes, she’s a vampire and no one would ever expect it with how good she is at hiding. She plans out her life and days to specifically avoid sunlight, garlic, etc. She’s a very busy member of the school community and has tons of friends and connections. She and Maehara, her fellow vampire, constantly compete to see who can get more dates.

Yoshida: Werewolf

This is slightly cliche since he’s the resident bad boy, but it fits. He tries to keep a tough image even in human form partly since his family taught him to do so, and because it is comfortable for him. But he’s a softie deep down, and is nowhere near as ruthless as he’s believed to be.

Ritsu: Magic Mirror?

Hmm this is kind of the only option I see fitting for her as it correlates to her role in canon. One classmate has to carry the mirror around for her to communicate, but she’s very powerful and helpful.

Itona: Mummy

Ok so storyline here: he was abandoned to die by his family centuries ago, and his 13 body was mummified against his will. In present time, Shiro awakens him, revives him, and uses him as a tool. He goes through a lot...but is able to live a peaceful life with 3-E once all that is over. He wears bandages almost everywhere, only exposing his eyes which glow yellow when he’s using his power.

Bonus:

Gakushuu is a Demi-God, of course. He’s pretty annoyed that his elemental magic only extends to hydrokinesis and cryokinesis, but he’s still amazingly talented.

Ren is a Merman who flirts with girls at the beach with sappy poetry. He’s gotten caught in a fisher net too many times.

Seo is an Ogre.

[drawingdreamsmp]

This is some thinking based on the “tales of the smp” thing Karl’s got going on!

Got some thoughts surrounding lore concepts, DEFINITELY rambling and not theorizing AT ALL

A lot of people support the idea that Dream is some kind of immortal, and I love that idea. I like to think he was a regular guy a very very long time ago, but some magic fuckery got involved when he tried to use an incomplete totem of undying, leaving him in a state of half death where —when he should die— he reverts to the form of a little wooden doll (the totem! Looks like his smiley face icon). It takes a lot of time for him to recover from this in which he is barely-conscious, unable to move or communicate or think much at all. It’s very boring and lonely so he will avoid it at all costs, hence why he nearly always keeps his armor on.

This adds a possibility for his relationship to George and Sapnap. They were probably friends in his original life, but died in the same accident that cost him his own life, but they didn’t have totems. This obviously bums Dream out once he finally heals and reverts from his doll form (nearly 20 years of lonely semi consciousness) to hear they died. He ends up finding a hunting party of two. This party has one archer with striking white goggles and one axe-wielding bandana-wearing man. He is overjoyed and runs up to greet them but they clearly don’t remember him. Sad stuff or whatever, they end up taking him in and becoming really good friends again. Dream tries to explain himself but they don’t really believe him until a few years pass and he always seems to know their favorite colors/foods/animals. Probably 5 years or so pass, and eventually history repeats itself and the other two die while Dream outlasts them before dying very shortly after.

At this point he notices a pattern where after around 20+ years of non-existence (sleep) he will wake up, meet a Sapnap and George, a few years will pass, they will get killed and he will die after. His Totem is kind of tied to their lives in which he will sleep until the time they met in his first life and die the same time in their life. Once they die, he can no longer maintain his physical form. Basically the only thing the totem does is let him keep his age of 21 and his memories, but when not with the others (either they are living their lives before they met him (George around 24 and Sapnap around 20) or dead (around 4-5 years after they meet Dream)) he’s asleep and alone.

The repercussions this has explains a lot of Dream’s current character. For example, his very apathetic attitude and love for chaos is because he’s seen it all before. Either trapped buried in the underbrush somewhere as a wooden doll or spending 4 years with his friends that he knows are fated to die has left him disenchanted with everything. History repeats itself and nothing is new anymore for someone that has no fear of eternal death. Chaos is at least entertaining.

Each death leaves him less connected to his own humanity but stronger as he grows closer to an immortal than a human. He notices he bleeds less when cut, he can last longer without food, his strength is unnatural, etc. Despite all of this, he can never protect his friends and, therefore, never avoid being trapped as a doll for a long time.

He wants to stop caring about George and Sapnap, but it never really works. He’s tried avoiding them, even fighting them, but they always end up together. This is part of the reason he removed the Kingship from George once he became targeted; he’s always trying to find a way to break the cycle and prevent their deaths. Currently this created a rift between them, but at this point Dream would rather have them alive them keep them as friends. The “I don’t care about anything” is not entirely a lie because there is almost nothing he does care about. Even George and Sapnap are somewhat expendable in his eyes when push comes to shove and he has no other way of avoiding it. He doesn’t want them to die and does all in his power to prevent it, but one can only see their friends die so many times knowing they’ll come back before becoming numb.

A few lil bonus thoughts

Dream can become the lil doll whenever he wants but can only turn back when Sapnap and George are alive. It’s not a trick he uses often.

He keeps his skills from the previous lives, only possibly growing a little bit rusty from so long asleep.

He’ll wake up in whatever he died in. He always keeps a dark green cloak on him to put over his regular clothes because he usually died in damaged/bloody clothing. Showing up as a stranger to town with clothes that show you were murdered in a past life is not a good idea

Sometimes George and Sapnap will know each other before meeting Dream, sometimes they wont. If it’s the latter case, the one that didn’t meet up with the other two will find the others nearly immediately

Occasionally Dream will spend a little longer as a totem even after meeting one of them because he can’t go back to normal after a death by choice. Once, George found him in the woods, thought he was a cool little figurine, and placed it on his shelf. It was a little shocking when he rushed into the kitchen after hearing a large crash to find a man with a cloak coated in blood but without wounds on the ground covered in everything from the kitchen shelf.

Sapnap is usually the one to meet him first and is the quicker to become friends with him. They both argue pretty frequently, what with them being so competitive, but it’s never serious. Dream likes to help Sapnap get better at fighting (partly because he wants a better sparring partner, partly because he wants him to be able to protect himself)

George is usually a bit more standoff-ish. Although they always end up as close friends, he’s pretty skeptical. The first few cycles of death when Dream tries to convince them they all used to know each other—before he basically gave up on that— George was always the last to believe him

Dream begins wearing a mask after he once was recognized while with George and Sapnap. They all knew one man in a town before they died, but obviously only Dream remembers of the three. When they return to the town maybe 20+ years later and the man is 20+ years older but sees the three of them all looking pretty much the same (Dream with a few new scars) he freaks the fuck out. He wears the mask whenever in public

(If you support the Karl time traveller concept then the mask also come in handy for that., avoiding recognition. The mask is made out of wood and always resets any damage upon Dreams death)

He usually goes by Dream with his friends, but if he does give a pseudonym it starts with a “C” (Clay, Cornelius, etc.)

Technoblade is also an immortal after some nether mishap (I mean.. he’s basically a piglin so it fits) and is around the same age as Dream. But where Dream is an immortal that dies but it never lasts, ‘Technoblade never dies.’ They never ended up crossing paths, but Dream has always wanted to test that theory after hearing rumors about him

Part of the reason he’s so manipulative is because of the time he spends as a doll and the inability to change his and his friends fate. In both situations he has no control over the situation, leading to him becoming a bit of a control freak in the current day. He also got used to lying and controlling his tone when questions about his identity became frequent

He has a little bit of arrogance from his many years of watching humanity make the same mistakes over an over again. At this point, he barely considers himself human, something better. He’s been caught a few times using language that makes him sound not human

I like the idea that Sapnap has some kind of fire ability. Whether he’s always had an elemental affinity or if it’s a result of the loop he and the others are stuck in is up for debate. Maybe it was natural but strengthened with every death he’s gone through.

While the totem and subsequent deaths have severely distanced Dream from being a human, Sapnap and George are mostly the same. Sometimes they’ll get glimpses of memories of the past, find that they are naturally really good at something they’ve never practiced, and are a little more in tune with Dream’s unnaturalness. It comes from knowing him and from being connected through the cycle, seeing his restless soul breaking through the cracks of his undying body

Dream has a tiny bit of a jealous streak stemming from the fact that —at least to him— they’ve been friends for a very long time. Others could hurt them or take them away and that’s the last thing he wants. They’re his connection to humanity and are usually the ones to bring out the most positive emotion from him

Bad (badboyhalo) has mentioned he likes the theory that while Bad has unlimited lives, his soul is bound to Skeppy’s. If Skeppy dies, he dies. Based on that, Dream has seen Bad a few times over the many years and he’s the only other person really close to Dream. As a Demon he is functionally immortal frequently checks on Dream when he can. He can see Dream slipping further away from Human but doesn’t make an effort to stop it. After all, Bad isn’t human but he’s fine so it’s not really a problem.

Dream has approached Bad about breaking the cycle as his situation (soul tied to humans, and currently Skeppy) is similar to his own (soul tied to totem as is Sapnap’s and George’s). Unfortunately Bad doesn’t really have advice but does try to help somewhat. George and Sapnap don’t usually recognize Bad when they come back, but they do have a trust in him unnatural for regular humans to possess when MEETING A DEMON.

Dream has somewhat dropped his focus on ending the cycle. Not only has hundreds of years not provided a solution, he has grown to like his newfound power and immortality. He does want to end the curse of death on George and Sapnap that leads to him becoming a doll, but if that cost him his power, he might not go through with it

Thank you for reading! Be sure to ask questions about anything if you have them because I’d love to explore this idea :D

[scripttorture]

My setting is a fantasy historical setting set roughly around the late 1800s to early 1900s that focuses on a fantasy species currently subjugated by humanity. They're generally forced to serve on the front lines of an ongoing war, in part because they're seen as "not people" and "repairable". A major antagonist is a human member of the military who is officially supposed to be treating their injuries but who has the blanket approval of the government to do what he feels is best. (medical 1/2)

As a result, he often purposefully lets soldiers die or lie there in agony if he feels they've been disrespectful or disobedient to him- death is not permanent for this species, so he isn't really wasting soldiers. His motivations are both to have a more "obedient" army and some degree of bigotry from being raised with the idea that these beings' lives don't matter. (medical 2/3) Would the withholding of medical treatment by a government official be torture if it were motivated by similar motives to most torturers (ie political difference, belonging to a specific group, wanting obedience/information)? Do you have any advice on this setting or story? Thanks in advance! (medical 3/3)

-

I think that this fits with a lot of the general pattern of how torture occurs but- My instinct is that the legal definition probably matters less in this case.

 In terms of the time period I think this is before our world had international laws against torture. It’s before this sort of thing was codified in a standardised fashion. This doesn’t change the effects but it does change things like- what a culture views as torture.

 In our terms? Yes I think this meets the legal definition of torture. It’s conducted by a government official who has power over/responsibility for, these victims. He knows his actions are causing pain. And he’s doing it to punish them, individually and collectively, which is one of the possible motivations listed in anti-torture law.

 That means that it’s likely the research I talk about is relevant to what you’re writing.

 But we shouldn’t ignore cultural views of particular practices. By which I mean that commonly held unethical views impact your world building and characters.

 This pattern of individual and collective punishment was common in most armies historically and is still used today. Forced exercise as punishment has led to deaths in UK army training facilities and (prosecuted as such or not) this is torture. Whippings, beatings, stress positions and starvation have all been used historically to ‘punish’ members of the military. In fact much of today’s clean torture might come from European military punishments.

 (Side note, the origin of any one particular torture is incredibly hard to trace and since they are simplistic it’s likely they don’t have one standard point of origin.)

 As general advice- I think it’s worth considering what these subjugated people get from being part of the army.

 There have been a lot of historical cases where subjugated people and second class citizens were an integral part of a country’s armed forces. But if violence and threats are the only ‘reasons’ for participation then the results are unlikely to be positive.

 If you’re aiming for a system with a reasonable ‘success’ rate (we are taking success to be a non-human who is an obedient part of this army and makes a reasonable effort to fulfil most of their duties) then I think there should be some kind of benefit to the soldiers themselves.

 It doesn’t have to be a big positive and you can use it to highlight just how shit their general situation is.

 I’ve got a broadly similar scenario in one of my stories: with a fantasy sub-class that’s strongly associated with the armed forces.

 The reasoning that I came up with was that life was genuinely better for them as part of the military. They were systematically barred from ordinary jobs and housing, the other main employment option open to them was a particularly dangerous form of mining and without some sort of patron they were routinely attacked and harassed. The military consistently provided shelter, food and a higher degree of comfort/security then the other options open to them.

 In contrast to the mines, where their kind routinely went unfed and were typically dumped on the street when too injured to work, the military looked like a ‘good’ option. Not so much ‘positive’ as ‘better then the typical alternatives’.

 I’d encourage you to think of similar back-handed ‘benefits’ in your story. Better food, better pay, perks that benefit their family, something that gives an understandable reason for these people to stick around.

 I’d caution against trying to make it completely impossible for them to escape or refuse orders because that’s never the case in reality and doing that makes these people… well less human, less relatable.

 For analogous situations in real military organisations you might want to look up the British Empire’s sepoys and the role of black soldiers such as Thomas-Alexandre Dumas* and the men who served under him in European armies.

 In the sort of environment you’re building up I think that a lot of these supernatural people would know about what this doctor is like. They might not know the specifics of what he does, but the rumour mill is likely to make it clear he does something bad.

 This doesn’t mean that characters will always be able to avoid him and it doesn’t mean every character would hear the rumours. But people in these situations, where an abusive figure is in an entrenched position of power, do try to warn each other.

 It’s common for people in these situations to try and help each other and try to resist. The methods available to them are often small and sometimes ineffective but I think it’s important to try and capture the attempt.

 One of the things I’ve noticed in fiction that uses abusive situations with this kind of hierarchy is that there’s a tendency to ignore any action that isn’t obvious and violent. You occasionally write about the victims attacking abusers or enablers and we write about escape attempts. But we generally ignore other smaller acts. Sabotaging equipment or plans, victims educating each other, helping each other, prayer, ‘magic’, keeping illegal traditions alive.

 I think cutting out these smaller acts can flatten the portrayal of victims. It presents a false binary of responses: passive acceptance or violent resistance. And that makes resistance appear much rarer then it is in reality.

 In situations like the one you describe survival and self expression can be forms of resistance.

 If you’re not writing about a real world group of people then I think concerted historical research in that area is less important. By which I mean: if you’re showing a fictional group then you want to capture the kind of responses that happen in this situation rather then say specific aspects of Cuban culture and history.

 I’ve found reading about the history of black resistance to slavery in the new world a really good starting point for understanding… well how people respond in systematically awful abusive situations. That’s partly because it is really well studied and recorded. (And also available in a variety of languages). I’m not sure what to recommend as a good starting point though. James’ The Black Jacobins is traditional, I also liked Barcias’ West African Warfare in Brazil and Cuba but it’s been a while since I read it and the focus was violent resistance.

 People keep their humanity even in terrible environments and I think it’s important to try and capture that.

 For the doctor himself there are two sources I’d suggest looking at. The first (somewhat inevitably) is the appendices of Fanon’s The Wretched of the Earth where he describes two torturers he treated for mental health problems. The second is The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks.

 I’m suggesting that as well because of the examples it gives of doctors who were definitely not acting in the best interests of their patients. The focus of the book is the origin of the HeLa cell line, the standard cell line in all medical testing. It isn’t an exaggeration to say that Henrietta Lacks’ cells changed medicine and the production of pharmaceuticals forever. Research on these cancer cells has done immeasurable good.

 They were also taken from a dying black woman in America without her consent. People have made billions off of these cells while the Lacks family never received a penny.

 And doctors have done indefensibly dangerous things with them.

 I think having a look at both will help you find a way to frame this doctor’s personality and the way he justifies his actions. Because while he is a torturer there are more discussions of that in a policing or military context then there are in a medical one.

 I’ve found that discussions of doctors as torturers tend towards a different set of tropes. They’re more likely to assume that the abuse is an experiment, without questioning whether the record keeping, accounting for variables etc is strict enough to yield meaningful results. They also tend to portray the torturer as ‘charming’. And there can be significant ableist ideas (anti-disability and anti mental illness prejudice) built into the story.

 The kind of situation you’ve outlined is already pretty realistic in a lot of respects: this is the kind of situation where you see doctors acting as torturers.

 But it’s also not how authors tend to approach writing doctors as torturers. Which means I’m not sure what to add. I think you’ve already avoided most of the usual traps by virtue of how you’ve constructed the setting.

 Overall I think this a pretty solid idea. It has enough similarities to real world historical situations that it feels ‘real’. And there are plenty of sources to draw from. It brings in fantasy elements in a way that I think is really interesting, almost playing out generational trauma within the same generation. And it feels like an original situation. I don’t often see doctors used in this way or the combination of period and fantasy elements you’re proposing.

 I think it’s going to be a very interesting story and I wish you the best of luck. :)

Available on Wordpress.

Disclaimer

*No not that Dumas, his dad. The other one.

[chiseler]

Edison and the Rise of the Snuff Film

“Fog and smog should not be confused and are easily separated by color. Fog is about the color of the insides of an old split wet summer cottage mattress; smog is the color and consistency of a wet potato chip soaked in a motorman’s glove.”   – Chuck Jones

The Execution of Mary Stuart was made in August of 1895, produced by Thomas Edison and directed by Alfred Clark. It has a running time of 18 seconds and depicts the last moments of Mary, Queen of Scots. It is notable for several reasons: as the first costume drama period piece—still a wildly popular genre in the Republic, as proven by The Tudors or Game of Thrones; and as the world’s first horror film (Méliès’ Le Manoir du Diable, which usually takes this accolade, was made the next year). It is also thematically linked to the most famous American flick, our Revelation of St. John or Epic of Gilgamesh: Zapruder’s footage of the Kennedy assassination. This 60-second saga, shot by a Ukrainian-born clothing manufacturer, is so famous that it is probably impossible by now to watch it like one watches other films. The massive literary exegesis/sequel, The President's Commission on the Assassination of President Kennedy, some 26 volumes in length, shows clearly the aura of holiness around a reel that can hardly be called just a ‘movie’.

Despite its relative obscurity, Edison’s Mary is a more influential production than is usually given credit. Its lingering effects include the modish cult of ‘snuff’ films, short clips showing actual murder with a violent sexual patina, as well as the execution propaganda of insurgent studio systems—most notably those of the Levantine organization, ISIS.

The similarities are instructive, formally and practically. The ISIS films also use editing at the denouement, but unlike Edison’s, they do not actually show the moment itself. The focus is instead on the horrible aftermath (at least visually), in order to work on the schooled imagination of the viewer. In the most crucial difference, the ‘star’ is actually murdered. Perhaps their most ambitious production, Though the Unbelievers Despise It, took four hours to make and features at least four cuts, not to mention the lives of some 20 Syrian soldiers. But we will here concentrate on the films that show a single slaying, such as Another Message to America and Its Allies, as the true exemplars of their cinema. Its larger-scale spectacles can never hope to compete with even the most pedestrian shots of the aerial bombardment of a city. But when they work pared down to the essentials, ISIS’ productions are a match for anyone’s.

Here, the sophistication of cinema ISIS relies on color and several well-placed edits, while the static position of the camera remains a self-conscious homage to early documentary. ‘Realism’ is a deliberate pose, as the framing of the films make clear—the executioner may be the real executioner, or just one of ISIS’ soldiers, as the killing is not shown on camera; the empty desert behind the statue-like figures is a stark abstract strip. The films were made in studios with high production values and sophisticated technology, a fact that has led some people to see them as off-Hollywood psyops projects produced with Saudi or American assistance (or at least with the sponsorship of Adidas, as footage of their columns’ early marches into Syria plainly shows). Whatever the case, simple elements are used to maximal effect. The use of free distribution platforms, a sadistic insight into audience fetishism, and the need to produce images for a legitimacy far beyond mere international recognition make ISIS anything but ‘medieval’ fundamentalists. As the movement declared its state, it also declared a foundational myth and for this myth, it knew it must create a cinema.

In Edison’s film, Mary is played by Robert L Thomae, which seems to have been his only role (he is mentioned in several sources as an employee of the Edison Company and may have been a choice of the moment, as with ISIS’ executioner-actor). The action is as follows: Mary steps up to the headsman block. The executioner lifts his axe, dispatches the last Stuart and then holds her severed head up for the audience—that is, for the courtiers and for the film viewer, a dual audience. A crude edit allows for the substitution of a mannequin, making the film also an early example of Grand Guignol special effects.

Historical killings on film were first done as mock-ups. There is film of Archduke Ferdinand reviewing his troops, but no one shot the assassination. Zapruder’s film can be seen an American remake: it shows the doomed President reviewing not his soldiers but the people outside Camelot; his motorcade passes and the good king dies with assassin off-camera (depending on who you ask). There is also footage of Czar Nicholas and other heads of state, but by the time of the First World War newsreels were utterly ubiquitous: anyone could appear on film. The early immortality of the nobles had quickly vanished forever. They were condemned to look like actors or be subsumed into family vacation footage. Zapruder’s accidental film returned some of the glow of eternity to history caught on celluloid, yet constant repetition since then has taken it apart frame by frame and it has disappeared into memorabilia.

Conversely, ISIS’ productions are avant garde agit prop: glowing images brilliantly worked in an uncanny mise-en-scène, a martial, immediate nostalgia for Year One. The use of green screen shows that the production team is more interested in color than with naturalism and is willing to spend money and time for scenes that could have easily been shot verité (Influence of Hollywood on ‘Caliph’ al Baghdadi’s cinema, rather than the 9th Century Baghdad school of optics—which shows again that he is no traditionalist). Offscreen fans blow the hair and flags of the participants; the executioner appears on a miraculous nuclear plane, half future earth and half divine ordination. Obscenely, the Day of Judgment in one man’s death is reduced to a symbol, then reduced again to a threat for tourists. As the brutal killings occur off-screen, the rather clumsily-simulated aftermath is obviously an aesthetic decision. Deciding what is shown and what is not marks every single filmmaker, from a kid with his cellphone to the Bollywood mogul.

ISIS may be most remembered for its cinema—if you discount its innumerable victims in Syria and Iraq, as the Western media always does. Its shrinking land holdings should properly be considered a last pitch to a captive audience or a vast studio lot now under hostile competitor control. Their films are exercises in total Technicolor modernism, with aspects both archaic and experimental, as befits their robust and seductive ideology. There is a Pirandellism even in their military operations—though they are hardly the first. The attack on Palmyra was Epic Vs. Epic, staged in front of the ruins as if these ruins were Caberia or Intolerance. Caberia was partly written and promoted by D’Annunzio; Intolerance was De Mille’s agonized revision of Birth of a Nation, the latter an opportunist attempt at making money from the perverse visions of lynch mobs.

But the greatest invention of Abu Bakr al Baghdadi, the self-proclaimed (studio) head of ISIS, comparable to Howard Hughes but somewhat distinct from ISIS as a collective auteur project, was himself. More lost than the fabled reels of Ambersons and Greed, the final cut may rest deep in impregnable Langley or in the sub-basement of an Ankara post-production house, never to see the light of day. All we have are these eerie franchises played out with grave seriousness in places where empires compete, scored with real screams. Fake desert, fake Caliph, fake enemies.

The contradiction of supposed ‘snuff’ films is that they have always existed, but as war footage or disaster reels, easily available for free on prime-time television or called up via a million online videos. The selling point is the illegality and home-made aesthetics of ‘outlaw’ works, made for an exclusive conspiratorial club—of which the films of ISIS are really no different than a Netflix True Crime series. They combine the savviness of Silicon Valley with Old World American shell game, brute force and reaction, the poetry of murder and the thrill of feeling like you are the only one watching. For that reason, we can trace a line from Edison straight to the throat-cutters, passing through the gardens of those quiet suburbs our haunted secret agents swear to protect. The real art of the ISIS Corp lies in its Fordian project for a total community, a reworking of the past that is cinematic and available to everyone. It was the United States that understood the epos of the past needed to be self-reflecting if they were to be at all. Pharaoh must be an actor playing Pharaoh (Jack Hawkins, say), just as ISIS’ Caliph—far more film Pharaoh than historical Caliph, neither righteous nor even louche—must be an actor who employs another actor, just as al Baghdadi apparently did for his voice-overs and his doubles (one of them wearing a Rolex). To accuse ISIL, ISIS, Dae’sh of fanaticism obscures the professional, provocative point of their filmmaking. Like CIA, they adhere to a solid critique of realism, similar to Langley’s promotion of Abstract Expressionism in the 1950s against the USSR’s Stalinist line on socialist realism.

The representation of death obsessed Edison as much as it did ISIS. His company competed with Westinghouse in what was called ‘the war of the currents’, with Edison promoting a direct and Westinghouse an alternative current to power the electric chair. His West Orange laboratory was used to test his design on animals, most famously on Topsy the Elephant in 1903—which Edison naturally filmed. The two firms finally reached a temporary compromise, and William Kimmler was successfully electrocuted on August 6, 1890. But the killing was botched and agonizing to behold—also the case for ISIS over a century later, who could not allow itself to be seen as incompetent on film. Swiftness says efficiency, and the way around the problem was death offscreen, a sword stroke made all the more poignant by being put into relief. As for Edison and electrocution, Judge Dwight’s ruling had stated that “although the mode of death described is conceded to be unusual, there is no common knowledge or consent that it is cruel; it is a question of fact whether an electric current of sufficient intensity and skillfully applied will produce death without unnecessary suffering.”

Edison made The Execution of Czolgosz with Panorama of Auburn Prison in 1901, six years after his Mary Queen of Scots film. Leon Czolgosz had assassinated President McKinley that same year and was indeed executed, but Edison’s film was a fake, made to sell his new improved electric chair after the Kimmler debacle a decade earler. A far more ambitious work than any of his previous, perhaps because product placement was involved and contracts were to be won, it begins with a long panoramic shot of dead trees and marshland, ending on the walls of the prison and a cut to the interior. There are four cuts in the film and the execution of the anarchist Czolgosz is more convincingly rendered than the earlier death of the Scots Queen. The establishing shot of the lonely area prefigures those of ISIS in their fastness, and the film is so roughly pixelated in contemporary digital reproduction that this landscape looks like a model in an atom age monster movie.

That the eyes see for a few seconds after decapitation is a perpetual folktale. Also that beheading, like drowning and the chair, is quick and comparatively painless.

by Martin Billheimer

[1] I admit here to not actually having seen any of the ISIS oeuvre. There is no point—they have been seen by millions and watching them would be like falling into the Zapruder spiral. Looking for clues and secrets is an arrogant pastime which reduces everyone to the misery of an 'expert'. It has been noted that ISIS' films do include audio of the off-camera killings, which are real if not in time, just as the ‘confessions’ of the doomed men, recited over the earlier part of the films, are also ‘real’. This adds to the dislocation of watching a ‘mock’ execution which ends in a real one, with 'real' sound over posed images. The whole cruel and disorienting puzzle makes, I imagine, a viewing experience that is both indelible and banal.

[1] Though none of these torture and sex films were actually discovered at the time of the craze (1970s), they did surface later, made by killers who were inspired by the very public investigations launched to uncover them. The original legal targets were standard fare—a series of Japanese shockers with the moniker Guinea Pig (the filmmakers had to show the old rushes in court to prove that their actresses were very much alive, giggling and covered in red syrup); or utter trash, like 1975’s Snuff, which was picketed after the film’s producers spread a rumor that its totally unconvincing killings were real ‘South American’ murder footage.

[seesgood]

5 times kissed

the first time  doesn’t count. for several reasons --- mainly that he’s a creep and she’s going to scrub her mouth out with battery acid. because she thinks he’s tyler --- he is tyler, for that split second of euphoria where she’s not about to get murdered at the hands of hunters alongside rebekah of all people, and where her boyfriend isn’t dead and klaus is dead and the world is safe. so naturally, she treats him like he’s tyler. because --- again, for that short period of time --- he is tyler. and that, unfortunately for her pride, involves slamming him against the nearest tree and kissing him with every bit of  ‘i thought you were dead’  bruising relief she has in her, and tearing off clothes before they can actually talk to one another about something serious for more than two seconds and --- it doesn’t count. because the mouth she’s kissing isn’t his. it’s tyler’s. and the worst part is that she knows --- or she should --- after the first couple seconds. before he does his trademarked little smirk and his head tilt and calls her love ( and reminds her why that is only a british thing, thank you very much ). because tyler doesn’t kiss like that. he’s a good kisser, don’t get her wrong. he just doesn’t kiss like that. like he’ll take any second of her mouth on his that he can get, like this might stop at any moment, like he has a thousand years of experience to back up the fact that she knows now for a fact that if they ever kissed in his own body she would be absolutely and utterly ruined and ---- none of that matters. because it doesn’t count. at all.

technically speaking,  the second time  doesn’t count either. only this time it’s made slightly better by the fact that she gets the satisfaction of knowing she tricked him. except she didn’t. because it was silas. kissing him. wearing her face. and it’s not funny, but it’s also kind’ve funny, you know? that they’ve had this thing brewing between them for so long now and the only times they’ve managed to somewhat kiss in a blaze of fiery passion has been wrong. only she can’t quite explain why it makes her feel bitter, knowing that he’s kissed her but she hasn’t kissed him. not really. it’s like he’s winning a competition she never signed up for. and she hates the fact that she almost resents it, knowing that she’ll never get to feel what it feels like to have 100%, right time, right place, right equipment, thousand years of experience klaus mikaelson kissing her.

the third time  his lips touch her skin, she’s trying to grapple with the roller-coaster of emotions this day has been. and it’s funny, how long her life has been building to this moment. poetic, that it should be overshadowed by the dead coming back to life, and damon nearly dying, and bonnie disappearing. and he’s here. not because she needs him to save her life, or damon’s life, or all of their lives really --- he’s here because she invited him. on a whim. because it was funny. because...maybe in a weaker moment she just likes the idea that he could be proud of her. as moronic as it sounds. she has parents for that. friends. a boyfriend. she shouldn’t have to seek validation from an immortal, all powerful, formerly-villainous being. but she does. and he’s here. and he stays. and there’s so many things happening at once that she doesn’t even fully process the fact that tyler’s free. but that small ( monumental ) fact is quickly overshadowed by the words that leave his lips next. and seriously? who talks like that anymore? he intends to be her last? okay, mr. darcy. ---- but he’s kissing her. lips brushing against her cheek, hovering there for a moment as if he expects her to shove him away. she doesn't. why doesn’t she? and for her part, she pretends her entire body doesn’t flood with butterflies when he does. pretends she’s not holding he breath when he pulls away and looks at her. however long it takes. words that hammer against her chest. take root somewhere deep in her heart, coiling and rooting and planting that little seed that she’ll try for years to ignore --- what if?

as many times as she’s imagined what it would be like to kiss him  ( and she has, no matter how much she’ll deny it )  she knows she’s not prepared for it.  the fourth time  is of her own doing, it only makes sense, considering she didn’t get to choose the previous times. this time though it’s them. and tyler’s not hanging over her like a test, and her friends are miles away dealing with other problems, and there’s no one to remind her that she should feel guilt about this. so she doesn’t. for that blissfully freeing moment that she presses forward to kiss him. and everything she’s always imagined, and everything she’s always pictured --- it’s all wrong. because it’s better. because when he seems to get the message that it’s on, he doesn’t hold back. and she suddenly loses all ability to breathe, think, feel anything but his hands gripping her waist, or his mouth slanting over hers, or the heat of him pressed against her --- all those times she tried to tell herself that it wouldn’t be that great? that she’s perfectly happy without knowing what this is like? what he’s like? that there’s nothing between them --- no spark, no chemistry, no tension --- it’s like all of those thoughts are buried when he presses her against that tree. somewhere in the back of her head she tells herself they should stop. regroup. she should very explicitly state the terms of this kind of engagement --- but she doesn’t. partly because she’s not sure she could stop kissing him right now if her life depended on it, but also because she doesn’t want to have to overthink it. so she doesn’t.

the fifth time  she’s not prepared for. how could she ever be? it’s funny, after losing so much, after losing so many people, she’d thought it would get easier. saying goodbye to him shouldn’t be anywhere near as hard as saying goodbye to her mom, or tyler, or stefan. she has no claim to him, they haven’t even seen one another in nearly a decade. but it hurts. god it hurts. but the pain isn’t hers, so she does what she does best. what they’ve always done. banter, flirt, distract. she’s grateful for the fact that he doesn’t see the way her hand shakes when it grips the back of his neck, and she’s impressed by her own ability to keep her voice steady, her tears at bay. she’s gotten good at that by now. there’s a brief moment when her mouth is still hovering less than an inch from his, when she can feel every waver of his breath against her that she thinks about dropping the act. begging. pleading. there’s so much she has left to say, there’s so much she hasn’t told him, there’s so much that she wants to tell him --- they just don’t have time. her eyes close for a moment and she swallows, forcing the burn of tears away for another minute. they’ve always had terrible timing, hindsight tells her as much. because she knows if things had been different, they might have stood a chance. but they don’t. so she’s left with this. a kiss that’s supposed to take the place of thousands that could have been, a goodbye that’s deprived of anything she’s really wanted to say, the harsh knowledge that she’s not wrong with what she says. she’ll never forget him. he’ll be the twist in the knife that impaled itself in her chest when stefan died, the loss of a possibility she won’t ever get back, a ghost of a something that never came to be. he’ll be there. and she’ll never forget him. 

five times kissed          /          no longer accepting ! 

[itsclydebitches]

I believe that the Staff will be taken away from Atlas in V8, cause I'm pretty sure that if RWBY or whoever summoned the Brother Gods there, they'll take one look at Atlas/Mantle, see how things are and wipe Remnant clean. If Atlas does crash into Mantle and they get summoned later on, at least they might see the two people working together to rebuild for a better future.

Given the story’s strange insistence that the group hold onto the relic throughout Volume 7 - not even just as an obvious way for Neo to eventually steal it, but likewise implying that the RWBYJNR group basically owns it at this point. Ruby’s somewhat scandalized “But you said we could keep it” was concerning when talking about a god-given magical object gifted to all humanity that they initially intended to lock away - I wouldn’t be at all surprised if they got hold of the Staff and ran off with it. After all, from a practical perspective they’ve already got Penny, but as said, the story also seems to be pushing for the assumption that because they’re the protagonists they’re also owed the relics. Within the story-world, Ironwood claiming that the group should continue carrying the Relic around a semi-rioting city despite there being an objectively safer vault right there was insane and really speaks to the belief of, “Title characters get to hold onto the cool magical stuff, no matter how stupid that is.” I fully expect for us to cycle through all four of the relics, the story coming up with (hopefully) persuasive, but also possibly contrived reasons for why this group is able to access/find them. Then, working under the assumption that all have a consciousness like Jinn, they’ll learn something/deal with conflicts stemming from each. Once the relics were introduced, it seemed pretty likely that they’d be the four stepping stones to eventually fighting Salem, thereby leveling up our group and simultaneously stretching out the series (RWBY is a money-maker now). Which is partly why Salem’s presence at the end of the volume seems so strange to me. We don’t need to hype her up as a threat - that’s been done to such an extreme degree the story just skipped over why this group would be willing to face off against her given her power, influence, and immortality - and you don’t normally introduce a final boss like that until it’s the last showdown. Especially when she’s canonically characterized as staying on the sidelines for a thousand years... 

Anyway, getting off track there. Obviously we’ll have to wait to see how the beginning of Volume 8 handles Salem’s unexpected appearance. Regardless, yeah. It never even crossed my mind that they would try to summon the gods anytime soon because 

a) They still need all four relics. One is off in another kingdom, another guarded by Ironwood, a third stolen by Neo, and the fourth so well hidden even Salem hasn’t found it yet 

b) The group hasn’t even bothered to mention the gods yet. It would be one hell of a jump to go from a total fixation on Ozpin to “We should summon them without ever talking about the potential repercussions of that.” 

c) Those potential repercussions are massive. Astronomical. Literally world ending! RWBYJNR isn’t just working under the threat of annihilation - which would be bad enough - but also the trauma of seeing exactly what the gods are capable of via Jinn’s vision. They watched that horror with their own eyes and the fact that they didn’t come out of it shaking is astounding to me. The immediate understanding should have been, “We’re not summoning the gods until we’re ABSOLUTELY sure we’ve united everyone to their satisfaction. Cover all our bases and double-triple-quadrupedal check things.  And even then we’re not doing it unless it’s the absolute last resort because holy shit, we’ve gotten plenty of evidence that the gods are cruel, fickle beings and we can’t trust them to judge us fairly. If this is a bad call we haven’t just made a garden-variety mistaken, we’ve doomed our entire world.” 

Which circles right back to Ozpin’s supposed lack of action. I’ve theorized since Volume 6 that Ozpin did have a plan to defeat Salem: summon the gods. Get them to destroy her. Eliminate her immortality. Whatever. Only problem is that in order to get the gods’ favor they have to face judgement first, hence decades of “useless” defensive work wherein Ozpin educated and played peace-keeper. Summoning the gods is how they defeat her... up until he saw the whole story via Jinn’s vision and realized precisely how dangerous the gods are. They’re not the kindly benefactors that he assumed they were based on his one, short interaction with Light. So when Ruby asks, “What’s your plan?” in that moment Ozpin spoke truthfully. He doesn’t have one because his previous plan just got a massive, dangerous hole blown into it... but that doesn’t mean it’s now impossible. Summoning the gods is still an option for defeating Salem, but suddenly it’s far more of a gamble than he ever assumed it would be. Now, Ozpin isn’t just working under the fear of, “Have I unified Remnant enough to their satisfaction? Have I passed the test?” but also “What if I do everything right and they wipe us out anyway?” Based on the information Jinn provided, that’s a very real possibility. 

[caveatlectors]

{  cis  man;  he  /  him;  bisexual  }  –  regulus  black  who  comes  from  harry  potter  has  been  spotted  in  sydney  .  they  are  eighteen  years  old  and  are  a  wizard  .  they  have  been  called  resolved  ,  selfless  ,  overambitious  .  it  seems  like  their  memories  are  intact  .  i’ve  also  heard  that  they  are  a  dead  ringer  for  felix  mallard  .

[  PINTEREST.  ]

name:  regulus  arcturus  black also  known  as:  R.A.B. age:  eighteen birthdate:  december  24  ,  1961 species:  pure-blood  wizard gender:  cis  man height:  170.18  cm  /  5′7″ orientation:  bisexual  ,  biromantic marital  status:  single occupation:  unemployed

CANON.

            regulus  was  born  into  the  wealthy  ,  pure-blooded  black  family  ,  as  the  youngest  son  of  orion  and  walburga  black  and  younger  brother  of  sirius  black  .  regulus’  parents  considered  him  to  be  much  different  from  his  older  brother  ,  and  admired  him  for  his  loyalty  towards  the  family  and  upholding  their  traditions  .  unlike  sirius  ,  regulus  was  sorted  into  slytherin  and  became  the  seeker  of  his  house  quidditch  team  .

            from  a  young  age  ,  regulus  admired  lord  voldemort  and  had  an  ambition  to  become  a  death  eater  later  on  in  his  life  .  he  had  photos  and  articles  about  the  dark  lord  and  his  followers  cut  from  the  daily  prophet  ,  which  were  hung  in  his  bedroom  near  a  painting  of  his  family  crest  .  regulus  received  his  dark  mark  around  the  age  of  sixteen  ,  which  his  family  approved  of  as  voldemort  was  seen  as  striving  to  achieve  pure-blood  supremacy  over  other  wizards  and  muggles  .

            after  becoming  a  death  eater  ,  regulus  began  to  consider  abandoning  lord  voldemort  ,  partly  because  his  master  mistreated  and  intended  to  kill  the  black  family’s  loyal  house-elf  kreacher  ,  whilst  setting  up  the  security  measures  for  one  of  his  horcruxes  .  at  first  ,  he  was  reluctant  to  act  against  the  death  eaters  and  voldemort  .  but  one  day  ,  voldemort  asked  regulus  for  the  use  of  his  house-elf  ,  kreacher  ,  and  he  eagerly  accepted  as  he  wanted  to  please  his  master  .  voldemort  used  kreacher  to  test  the  defenses  around  his  locket  horcrux  ,  leaving  him  to  die  afterwards  .  kreacher  was  able  to  escape  using  house-elf  magic  ,  and  told  regulus  of  what  had  happened  .  regulus  worked  out  that  the  locket  was  a  horcrux  and  was  the  reason  behind  voldemort’s  immortality  .

            this  was  the  deciding  factor  in  regulus’  defection  .  he  created  a  duplicate  of  the  locket  and  placed  a  note  inside  for  voldemort  to  find  ,  expecting  him  to  check  on  the  horcrux  in  the  future  ,  and  then  ordered  kreacher  to  take  him  to  where  the  real  locket  was  hidden  .  kreacher  guided  regulus  past  the  cave’s  defenses  .  at  the  island  with  the  basin  of  potion  containing  the  locket  ,  regulus  ordered  kreacher  to  take  the  locket  once  the  potion  was  gone  and  replace  it  with  the  fake  one  ,  then  escape  without  him  and  find  a  way  to  destroy  the  horcrux  .  regulus  drank  the  potion  himself  ,  and  when  he  tried  to  get  water  from  the  lake  to  quench  his  thirst  ,  he  was  dragged  to  his  death  by  the  inferi  .  kreacher  obeyed  his  master’s  final  order  and  switched  the  lockets  before  escaping  .  however  ,  despite  his  best  efforts  ,  he  was  unable  to  destroy  the  horcrux  .

            the  true  circumstances  of  regulus’s  death  were  entirely  unknown  to  the  members  of  his  family  ,  as  he  had  asked  kreacher  to  keep  the  events  at  the  cave  a  secret  ,  due  to  this  being  safer  for  the  family  .

SYDNEY.

            regulus  only  just  arrived  in  town  .  newly  resurrected  and  thoroughly  confused  about  why  he’s  in  sydney  ,  why  he’s  alive  when  he  knows  he  shouldn’t  be  ,  he’s  glad  to  see  he  still  has  his  magic  at  least  .  while  he  hopes  to  find  some  answers  eventually  ,  he  can’t  help  but  wonder  about  what  really  happened  after  everything  he’d  done  ...  was  his  family  alright  ?  what  of  kreacher  ?  and  did  his  plan  even  work  ?

[putanauhere]

so me and @foxesmouth are writing an art forgery au eh, tentatively titled by me only (didn’t run it by amy - you’re probs good with it, right?): a portrait of the artist as a con man. here’s our first scene.

--

Theo slips out of Hobart and Blackwell, walking two doors down to his own studio, just minutes before his 3 pm appointment. He takes more private sector work these days than working with museums, partly because there aren’t too many new masterpieces popping up out of obscurity these days, but mostly because he always gets the feeling he’s flying too close to the sun. 

This is the last of his appointments before he ships off to Boston for a restoration residency on a few John Singer Sargents as a favor to Peggy at the Gardner, and he’s anxious to see it resolved quickly. That must be why the thought of the appointment buzzes uncomfortably in the back of Theo’s mind, the same frequency as the persistent worry that he forgot to turn off the oven before leaving the house.

His fingers pick through the code to disarm the alarm as he shrugs his coat off one shoulder, not at all elegant as he turns to the coat rack and shrugs the other arm off to hook it up quickly. As he sets the coffee pot in the corner brewing, Theo tries his name out a few times, trying to find the cadence of it so he doesn’t embarrass himself, and settles on something that sounds familiar, if not correct, just as the buzzer goes.

His 3 o’ clock is younger than Theo expects, shorter than Theo is, and dressed far warmer than Theo thinks is necessary. Theo is given a swift onceover, then a slower one, both immediately disarming, before Theo remembers himself and steps aside to let him in. “Mr. Pavliovsky, it’s good to meet you.”

He looks amused by this. “Sure.” He has the painting tucked under his arm, wrapped in what looks like a linen sheet, to Theo’s horror. He’s already seen what Mr. Pavlikovsky has in the way of provenance, and his hopes aren’t high, but in the off chance that’s a real Renoir he’s got in there - Theo is already sweating with the thought.

Theo hangs his thick winter coat and rests the Renoir - wrapped in a pillow case, he realizes - on the intake table, itching to yank it free from its cotton prison like a grand reveal, ta daaa, but he’s a professional and lets his showroom do its showing. 

Mr. Pavlikovsky’s dark, critical eyes carefully scan the studio, eyes lighting on Theo’s work bench with its array of lights and magnifiers clamped to every available edge of the desk, surrounding like a frame to the Pissarro reproduction he has lying in wait on an easel. He moves toward the work bench with interest, leaning over to survey the painting closely but keeping his hands tangled together behind his back. Another win for the showroom. “Is this restoration?”

“God, no, I have a separate temperature controlled studio upstairs. This is… practice.”

His eyes flick up from the painting to the shelves of paints and small buckets of brushes stored above the bench where Hobie would keep chisels, hammers, and pliers. “You practice your craft in foyer of business instead of fancy art studio upstairs?”

“I - ” Theo stutters, never having been challenged on that.

“Is okay, I understand. You don’t sell art, you sell skill. Can’t frame a restored or debunked Pissarro on the wall, but you can leave gentle suggestion of experience on display.”

Theo stops up, irritated at having his intentions read so quickly, so easily by a stranger, but he doesn’t like the way it sounds almost nefarious on Mr. Pavlikovsky’s lips. Theo’s clientele often work on blind faith and reputation, and no one is allowed in his studio. Gentle suggestion is the only ammunition Theo has access to.

He turns to Theo, misreading Theo’s surprise about the easel’s placement for the easel’s content. “Did I pass the test?”

Yes, technically, yes, because everyone else tends to guess Monet, which is frankly insulting. But instead of answering, Theo smiles his customer-facing smile and gestures to Mr. Pavlikovsky’s painting. “Let’s have a look?”

He liberates the frameless Renoir from its slumber once he dons a pristine pair of white gloves and all six of its sides a quick scan before placing it down on the intake table. He knows immediately it’s a fake - one made with a lot of heart but a less than acceptable amount of skill. Nonetheless, he pulls his stool forward, switches his glasses for a specialized pair, and switches on an overhead light.

He’s joined at the table by Mr. Pavlikovsky, which is rare these days - even if his typical intakes are ten minutes or less, his clients are still glued to their phones or important business papers or a copy of the New Yorker. Theo’s not wild about having someone sit over his shoulder, he finished with that once he graduated from a formal university and from Hobie’s crash course in furniture restoration, but Theo allows him to stay in the name of customer service.

“Do you enjoy Pissarro?”

“I have seen - they have many of his paintings at the Met, is local, have you seen?” Mr. Pavlikovsky asks, and Theo’s heart shudders like someone has just walked over his grave. Shaken, he blinks his eyes firmly a few times and refocuses on the task at hand. Nobody has cared enough yet to draw the connection, and Theo himself has had no interest to check if the New York Times has immortalized the article with his name on it on the internet finally now that all copies of the paper should have been disposed of over fifteen years ago.

Thankfully Pavlikovsky doesn’t wait for an answer - he doesn’t seem to need one. “Beautiful painting of Montmartre, looks exactly like the boulevard! Have you been to Montmartre? Incredible, some things, they never change, you could paint same paintings today, same views, but with cars and tourists on cell phones instead of horses and carriages.”

“I’m sure I have seen it at some point. I am a fan of his landscapes, as you can tell.”

“Yes, you have a way with them.”

Theo’s cheeks heat up and he can’t quite figure out why, so he disguises it by lifting the canvas and taking a careful inhale down the right side of the canvas. If Mr. Pavlikovsky is concerned by this behavior, he doesn’t say so.

Theo frowns as he sets the painting back down. It’s a shame he won’t even have to get his x-ray out to get a look at the layers, but maybe he should - he could charge more for this session, and the longer an investigation, the more legitimate he seems. But from the way this conversation has gone so far, Mr. Pavlikovsky doesn’t seem like he needs the whole song and dance.

As if on cue, Mr. Pavlikovsky says, “I should leave you to work - I will come back later, no?”

“No need, I have made my analysis.” He strips his gloves and switches his glasses back out before turning his focus back to Mr. Pavlikovsky.

“Already.” It’s not phrased like a question, but the way he sounds impressed sends a wild thrill through Theo’s chest for a reason he can’t name.

“I’m sorry to say, Mr. Pavlikovsky, but this is a fake,” Theo says and braces himself for an impact that doesn’t come. Ordinarily there’s screaming and spitting, the unchecked pride of rich men bubbling over at being duped, and because they likely won’t be able to find the dealer again, Theo is the unfortunate sole recipient of their ire.

Instead Mr. Pavlikovsky grins and says, “How could you tell?”

There’s a lecture’s worth of material in this canvas, but most don’t want to settle in to listen to Theo drone on and on like the worst of his professors. Theo taps to six different problem areas, each of them having lit up like a glowing red sore as soon as Theo had laid eyes on them - poor blending, wrong paints for the time period - is that acrylic? really? - thick careless strokes that indicated speed and not care, and more. “Here, staples here, this is wrong, no fraying on the canvas edges is immediately suspicious, this issue with the verso here. And Renoir typically signed his paintings with a signature tail at the end of his r - this, at its most charitable, is a smudge - and he almost never connected his o to his i.” He snags a piece of paper and fountain pen from his desk and works out a quick recreation, the bold r, the diamond-shaped o, then taps at it. “Reno-ir.”

Mr. Pavlikovsky leans in close to Theo’s shoulder, peering seriously at Theo’s scrawled signature. His proximity is enough to make Theo stifle a shudder. “Perhaps he was drunk this day.”

“No,” Theo says bluntly.

Mr. Pavlikovsky laughs, tracing his bottom lip with his thumb thoughtfully as he leans back. “It is fake,” he says, but in a way that almost sounds like he’s confirming what Theo has said to be true, instead of mulling over this new discovery.

“I don’t wish to presume, I’m sure the price is not an issue - if you would like me to perform the standard x-ray and microscopy to confirm, I am absolutely able to. But in the interest of preserving your time.”

He nods, like fair is far, and picks up the painting to stuff it back into the pillow case. 

“Sorry - I - my apologies, Mr. Pavlikovsky, would you mind? I know it’s not a real Renoir, but it is still. You know. I’d hate to see anything happen to it.”

He gestures an invitation. “Please.”

Theo quickly trims foam for the verso and wraps the whole thing in paper like a present. He presents the secure package back to Mr. Pavlikovsky, but neither of them move to complete the transaction. Something about the thing feels unfinished - yes, the money, Theo’s brain helpfully supplies - but Theo doesn’t think that’s it.

Mr. Pavlikovsky digs out a tight bundle of cash anyway, too many hundreds stuffed into a straining silver money clip that he peels their agreed upon fee from and slaps onto the table. It feels almost dirty transacting this way, Theo used to wires, money orders, checks, and the like - cash feels uncouth. One of Pavlikovsky’s hands repockets the money and the other doesn’t go for the painting like Theo expects, but rather squeezes at Theo’s shoulder. “Well, if I can’t reward your speedy expertise with more money. Do you want to join me for drinks?”

“I’m not - um.” Theo swallows his initial objection, the way his mind leapt to that conclusion feels too telling. “Sorry? Drinks?”

“It’s not fun to pretend anymore, let you talk talk talk, Mr. Pavlikovsky this, Mr. Pavlikovsky that.” He raises his eyebrows at Theo. “I will say it hurts my feelings you don’t remember me, Potter, though I know it was very long time ago.”

It’s the Potter that does it, the fuzzy sort of familiarity with the nickname born from a cultural phenomenon he’d missed almost entirely with the timing of it. The only way it had nudged itself into Theo’s brain was through some drunk coed at a party he was desperately trying to fuck at a houseparty holding him by the waist and telling him firmly that she thinks he’s a Ravenclaw, whatever the fuck that is. And, of course, also through Boris.

“Shit, Boris, sorry, man, sorry,” Theo says, his face widening with a grin. “God, it’s been forever since Vegas?”

“You look good.” Boris pulls him into a hug Theo isn’t expecting, but allows himself to be collected into. “It’s good to see you.”

He hadn’t exactly kept tabs on Boris at the time beyond the few classes they’d shared together, the rare times they’d found each other in the same places, nodding affably from where they’d each stood at opposite sides of the room. 

His last memory of Boris had been at this party at some girl’s house - Hadley, maybe - and the two of them had straddled their legs over either side of a diving board over the winter-emptied pool, and tried to lean forward and take lines off the laminate, giggling and knocking heads and clutching at the sides, at each other, every time the board would shiver and shake with their movements. Theo had already been fucked up on something he’d stolen out of Xandra’s purse just to give him enough motivation to leave the house, letting the world grow opaque in front of his eyes like it’d be easier to live in if he just couldn’t see it, but he remembers Boris at the time, clear as day, like his nearsightedness had transfigured into Borissightedness. 

He remembers Boris being taller than he was at the time in a way that burned jealousy into his skin - a non-contest he is too secretly pleased to have won out in the end now - and the way Boris would wear his hair in the style that his mom used to call Needs a Haircut and his dry, calloused hands that held onto Theo’s wrists when he risked toppling over into the pool and the urgent way he’d whisper I got you like it wasn’t anyone else’s business to know.

Looking at Boris now, things shift slightly until they click into place, it’s like the sensation of sliding on glasses for the first time and realizing the world was not an impression, not muted, but all sharpness and defined edges and tangibility. Of course it’s Boris. 

“Come get a drink with me,” he presses.

Yes, technically, yes, that’s what Theo wants, but. “I can’t - I fly to Boston tomorrow morning.”

Boris checks his watch in an outrageous flash of silver. “Is sixteen hour wait at the airport, or what? You can’t take night off your busy schedule and have a drink with an old friend?”

Theo would hesitate to call them old friends. He’d hesitate to call them anything, but there’s potential humming under the surface now that had always been there back in Vegas. He hadn’t known what it was, what it meant back then - it was just shared snorting at the dumb puns Mrs. Mullin would say to get everyone excited about earth science, sitting silently beside each other on the bus when there were no more empty seats left, and holding each other by the waist only when they were wasted at a pool party on the weekend and acting like it never happened on Monday morning. 

But Theo knows what the humming is now - the desperate desire to have a friend and the fierce inability to let himself have one. Boris leaves the painting on the desk and scoops up his coat. He holds the door open for Theo, his way of telling not asking again. So Theo grabs his coat as well and thinks maybe he can let himself have something now, maybe just this one thing. 

“It’s good to see you too,” Theo says, but it doesn’t feel like enough.

--