#Phase-Gate process

[stormflower8]

take some south asian!ballister headcanons

okay so ballister is, at least partially, based off of his va, Riz Ahmed, who is south asian/pakistani (like me!) and speaks Urdu (like me!), so I think I have some stuff to throw in the Headcanon Pot

when ballister was in the orphanage before he did his whole Jump The Gate Out Of Spite And Desire To Become A Knight, he primarily spoke Urdu and was in the process of learning english

also, when people learn english in countries that don't speak english, they typically learn british english, which ties in nicely to ballister's canon accent

this means that he had to learn a fair amount of english at the institute

he might've also been bullied for his questionable grammar and accent by todd and the other knights

ambrosius did his best to help in teaching ballister english and mostly helped in his grammar and vocabulary. they went through a little phase where ballister would pick up more obscure objects and ambrosius would say the english word for them.

ambrosius has only heard ballister speak urdu a handful of times, but every time it happens, he swears he falls a little more in love with him

after he was regarded as completely fluent in english, he didn't speak much urdu, but he never forgot it

post-canon, he once went on a tangent in urdu and nimona heard him and her jaw just DROPPED

"you're bilingual?? why didn't you tell me??" "you never brought it up...?" (doesn't think it's a big deal)

she thinks it's the coolest thing ever and went through a phase where she tried to piss off ballister JUST to hear him talk in urdu

eventually, he realized what was going on and had to sit her down and explain "you don't have to do all that, all you have to do is ask and I'll talk to you in urdu."

she definitely exploited that eagerly, but she still occasionally does the whole "piss him off just to hear the rambling of Words She Doesn't Understand" for fun

ballister has absolutely no idea that both ambrosius and nimona love how he speaks urdu or he would talk way more in it

honestly I love the concept of ballister speaking urdu, but almost always when I'm speaking urdu it's for a joke, so I've kinda ruined that language for myself LMAO

also, about the south asian thing of eating pretty much everything with one's hands,

first day in the mess hall. ballister grabs the food that looks the most familiar to him- rice

sits down at a table alone and starts to eat with his hands (or is it "eat with his hand"? he's only using one hand to eat but it feels strange to have hand in singular here)

immediately todd, who was going to go pick on him anyways, notices and makes a huge deal about it

the next day, ballister did his best to work with the fork, but it was an adjustment and he stuck out like a sore thumb with his clumsiness with the utensils

when he was befriended by ambrosius, they would sit together in the mess hall

at first, ambrosius tried to help ballister become more comfortable using utensils, and ballister was eager to learn

until one day he just thinks to himself "what am I doing? the same thing as todd but nicer?"

that's when he starts sneaking meals into his room so he and ballister can eat in there together- alone, peacefully, and with whatever damn utensils (or lack thereof) they want

ballister would eat with his hands, ambrosius used chopsticks, they would chill and vibe and, when they got older, slowly fall in love (or quickly, if you're ambrosius simp goldenlion)

ballister also teaches ambrosius how to eat with his hands there, and in turn, ambrosius teaches him how to use chopsticks

they continue to eat together in that room all the way until the knighting ceremony, and it was one of their favorite routines

post-canon, the trio had rice for a meal, and nimona saw ballister eat with his hands (probably his flesh hand- even though, culturally, you're supposed to eat with your right hand, I think a prosthetic is a pretty damn good exception)

she stared in shock for a few moments, then slowly dropped her fork and attempted to mimic his motions

ballister noticed and was flattered beyond measure, and was more than happy to help her out

rice is the ONE AND ONLY thing ballister can (and is allowed to) cook, so he makes it whenever he can

and when he makes it, everyone eats it however the hell they want, society standards be damned

I have more south asian related headcanons, but this is long enough already, so I'll do a part two later! :D

-Storm

[thewritetofreespeech]

Halsin x Reader

words: 1.2K

rating: G

pairing: Halsin x Reader/Tav (post-epilogue)

-----------------------------------🐻-------------------------------------

When Halsin took on the duty of reforming the Shadow Lands and taking care of the refugees there, he didn’t realize how much work it would be.

He was not shy of hard work. Halsin loved it. He felt useless for the first time in centuries. However, taking care of so many children, along with helping Thaniel resort balance to the blighted nature around the land, was draining.

“Are you alright master Halsin?”

The druid turned to see one of his old charges there, Willow. A sweet girl. Shy as a rabbit from what he remembered from his time in the grove, but still brave enough to leave it when her heart felt the call to help those in need. She had arrived from the Grove a few months after his own return from meeting friends. Wanting to help. Halsin had been delighted. Selfishly hoping that perhaps some of his efforts as Archdruid had rubbed off on her.

“Yes, I’m fine Willow. And you don’t need to call me ‘master Halsin’ anymore. As I’ve mentioned, Halsin is fine.”

“Oh. Yes. Sorry. Old habits.” The girl bashfully fiddled with her hair and shuffled her feet. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright. You looked tired.”

“Well, we certainly wouldn’t want to look the part, now, would we?” Halsin teased. To which Willow bashfully stammered more, and he laughed. “Don’t worry. I appreciate the concern. I am a little tired if I’m being honest. Nothing a goodnight’s sleep won’t cure.”

“You do so much to take care of us mast—I mean, Halsin. Someone should take care of you.”

“Don’t worry about me.” He replied. Perhaps missing the true meaning of her words. “I am quite capable of taking care of myself. Most days. And, I do have someone to help take care of me.”

Since the meeting with their friends, Halsin was delighted to have [Y/N] back by his side. Their time apart had been brief for an elf, yet it felt like the longest time in his existence. He was over the moon when they agreed to come back here with him, now that things were settled; here and in the Gate. Their presence, their compassion, their desire to help this place as well, was a light that this place desperately needed still. And, he had come to realize, he did too.

Halsin said his goodnights to Willow and returned to the small home he had built, which now housed him and [Y/N]. Where once he would have spent his life in tents, or even simpler under the stars, more and more these days he was growing fond of these walls. A phase, he assumed.

"Not making any progress with her?" [Y/N] asked when he arrived at their door. Their ‘town’ was very small. The center of which you could see clearly from one end to the other from your own front door. Which was what [Y/N] was doing with their evening cup of tea.

"What?" Halsin looked confused. Then realized what they must be talking about. "Oh, Willow? She is very clever, but I fear it will take her some time before understanding the basics of her medicine and magic. Progress is a process."

[Y/N] chuckled. "No, I mean progress. You know she's into you, right?"

Halsin was for once surprised. He supposed, deep down, he knew of their attraction to him. He was usually very good at uncovering the desires of others. But with Willow he had been.... blinded to her advances. "Honestly no. I hadn't noticed."

It was [Y/N]’s turn to be surprised it seemed, as they pondered his comment and sipped their tea. “Oh. I’m surprised. I thought you would have jumped on that in a moment. Literally.”

Halsin frowned a little at [Y/N]. “I don’t ‘jump’ on anything.” True, he was open to all experiences that nature had to offer, but he thought he was a little more discerning than that. “Besides, when would I have time? Between the children, the lands, what little spare time I have is spent with you or in bed.”

“Or both.” He had to chuckle at that. When oh when would he develop the skill for not putting his foot in his mouth. Maybe in his next quarter century. “But, you know I don’t mind if you pursue something with her. You’re welcome to explore….whatever path you’d like. With whomever you’d like.”

Halsin was taken aback. Was that how he sounded when he brought this up to his lovers? “And you would really be comfortable with that?”

“You told me when we initially got together that you weren’t someone for monogamy.” They reminded him. “I didn’t assume that changed, or our relationship changed while we were apart. If you want to spend an evening with someone, I understand.”

That had all been true. When he met them, he had been very clear that monogamy wasn’t for him. He had told them that he kept to nature’s way. To roam. To find root and purchase in whatever bed he might find like the dandelion seed on the wind. So why hadn’t he done that?

At first Halsin thought that it was because he was so focused on his new cause. As he also mentioned to them when they met, he could get consumed with something and rarely come up for air. Plus, the children were his top priority. It wouldn’t be fair to have a partner when his full attention couldn’t be on them.

But, the more he thought about it in this moment, Halsin realized that he, for once, simply hadn’t been interested.

In the few moments alone, when his thoughts drifted to desire, he thought of [Y/N] and nothing else. Their face was what he thought of when he took hold of his own needs. Their sweet words. Memories of their body. Now that they were back in the flesh, his eye had wondered even less further. The thought of spending an evening with the willowy Willow didn’t disgust him, but he also didn’t feel desire for it.

Halsin suddenly realized, to his own shock, that he had almost completely shifted from the roaming bear to the wolf. Complete with his own cave, and pack, and mate. He had been…domesticated.

“I…don’t think so.” Halsin finally answered [Y/N]. “At least, not at this time. I would rather stay home with you tonight. If that’s alright?”

[Y/N] smiled at him. Then walked inside with what remained of their tea. “I didn’t come all this way to sit at home alone. Again, not that I would mind for an evening. But, you know.”

Halsin thought he did.

Though he couldn’t say he understood a lot of things going on in the moment, what he did understand is that he wanted to be with [Y/N]. To be only with them for what time they were allowed. To let himself be domesticated.

[thegonse]

mike's patronization of el

i feel like something not discussed very much in the discussion of why m-leven is unhealthy is mike's sort of patronization of el. i think this is a huge factor in why el breaks up with mike in s3. maybe he assumed she wouldn't be smart enough/knowledgeable enough to find out he was at the mall. (given she didn't really leave hopper's cabin much, but still..) this whole scene is just suuuper telling to me.

like first, the whole finger pointing (like a parent...) and the whole "what. are you doing here" all slowly like el doesn't understand what she's doing ??

and then mike asks max, "what's wrong with you? you know she's not allowed to be here!" like el isn't literally standing RIGHT THERE. it's like how parents talk about their children when the kid is like in the backseat coloring or some shit??

then el walks up to him right before she delivers her famous line, and (i cant gif stuff but trust me) mike sort of looks like he's trying not to laugh here? like what could she possibly do? and then the face he makes after is just sooo telling. like he couldn't believe she actually like...did that? spoke her truth like a person?

its just like ughh... like its so obvious mike still sort of views el as like, a child almost, not a teenage girl the same age as he is, capable of understanding and processing more than she lets on ("mike, i understand..." "you say i go...i never leave!") during s1, mike knows el is super powerful, sure, but during the times when she isn't actively saving their lives, he only really sees her as a very scared, very quiet girl who doesn't know of very many societal customs ("what is wrong with you? what is wrong with you?" "she'll send her back to pennhurst or wherever she comes from...").

i thought this moment in s2 might be turning point for him, but i guess not? i mean, she seems pretty independent here, having a whole new look and obviously very alone when she comes into the byers house.

but then it's all back to the "are you sure you'll be ok.. you don't have to do this..." sort of stuff when she's leaving to close the gate. it sort of reminded me of a parent sort of allowing their kid to have "a phase" and knowing they'd grow out of it, as the whole breakup scene did. and then in s3 we're right back to el only seeing mike, nobody else, etc. so of course he doesn't really figure she knows much of anything/anybody but him and hopper.

i could go on and on about the angela-roller-skate scene and the monologue in s4, but i feel like that's been hashed out already. and just a disclaimer.. this isn't to hate on mike or anything. obviously he's a teenage boy, and they are not known for being the most mature, and el has her problems too in the relationship. these are just things i noticed

[deletarius-draws]

Baldur’s Gate 3 ~ “Harmonious Ardor”

Solus Aximand (Tav) & Lae’zel

So this piece took me the most time to touch up, originally it was supposed stay in a sketch to inked phase of the two, but then of course I decided to explore other possible additions to the piece. Such as background ideas, I knew for certain they’d be in the Astral Sea somewhere, so I looked into a few references, firstly being from an entirely different game. “The Siofra River” in Elden Ring, that underground area where the ceiling looks exactly like that of a cosmos, with stars and misty Nebula. It’s one of my favorite places in the game, the ruined architecture, white bark trees and ghostly figures that roam that there. This inspired the initial execution of the piece, then after setting the scenery of the background and adding a few things, I looked for more references of a cosmos, in other franchises as well as actual photos of space to further ground the foundation. I looked into Warhammer 40k’s Warp photos too, but of course, if one is familiar with 40k’s lore on the warp, I personally thought, “Nah… Far too chaotic of a depiction, lovely illustrations, but it wouldn’t mesh harmoniously with Sol & Lae’s tranquil & loving embrace, the center piece of the whole thing. I did want to convey the passion through certain use of colors however with just as much peace, respect and unconditional love the two have for one another. So finally I delved into some actual dnd Astral Sea references, browsing through the otherworldly and spiritually inspired illustrations, especially the older edition artworks. Eventually I came across Astral Plane lore and did a bit of reading as I absorbed what I could from the reference images, which helped with painting in proper colors for where the two are currently. Taking Color Pools and other atmospheric lore of the Astral Sea into consideration. I’ve currently been in a sci-fi fantasy mood for quite some time, again. Which helped bring the overall piece together here, I’ve been writing up my own lore of my world’s Astral Plane, keeping the drive to finish the piece alive. Of course I’ve also taken inspiration from the game itself from the screenshots I took while the party visited the Astral Plane for a few moments during my playthroughs.

They are on a floating landmass amidst other floating islands and debris, I honestly can’t say if this is before or after the wars against Vlaakith. Personally I’d like the think it’s after but it is also possible it’s some time in the middle, as they would also find and cherish the moments of repose and peace. The constant fighting, deepening bonding and venturing, the two stay as close together, only splitting if they tactically must, usually if not always in the same general area they reunite. Solus and Lae’zel prefer to be inseparable, they move and fight as one, they know this, that they are indomitable together, but if need-be, will separate, only to always rejoin shortly after during strategic planning. Being just as monumental in combat separately, ensuring the two do not ever fail to return to the other’s embrace, in their own love language they call this, “Our Eternal Return”.

I greatly appreciate you if you read all that, I usually don’t write out my thought and creative process, but it does help to keep the drive alive. I had more but thought this is long enough, I’m still writing head canon of the two as well as fleshing out Solus Aximand (one of my Tavs) as his own character more. I really appreciate the likes, reblogs and eyes that see my work. I’ll be in the shadows working on more in the meantime.

[pinkeoni]

Theory: The Upside Down is Will’s Original Hiding Spot

“He’s good at hiding.”

In season one, One (either through himself physically or through a demogorgon he controlled) destroyed Castle Byers, which was Will’s final hiding spot and last safe space.

Symbolically, this is meant to show how this experience has literally destroyed his childhood, he no longer has a safe space because no space will ever feel safe again.

However, I think this instance of One destroying Will’s hiding spot might be indicative of a more literal meaning as well.

So atp I’m fairly confident that Will has been connected to the Upside Down since way before One ever kidnapped him, which is why he went after him in the first place.

The Upside Down was Will’s original hiding spot, and One took it over in the same way he destroyed Castle Byers.

I’ll explain:

So in season one Jonathan keeps repeating that Will is good at hiding. And he was hiding— in the Upside Down.

It’s implied that the reason Will is so good at hiding was because of his dad. But once he left, Will no longer needed to hide and Castle Byers became his new safe space. Jonathan even tells Hopper that Will used to hide in Castle Byers.

Now this kinda contradicts what I just said, but it’s also important to note that Castle Byers didn’t go up until after Lonnie left. Before that, Will would have lacked a safe space for himself to go.

So what I’m proposing is that Will had a safe space before Castle Byers, and that space was the Upside Down.

I’m not saying that Will would go through a gate every time he needed to hide from his dad, rather this would work in a similar way to his true sight ability in season two. Will’s physical body would be in the in the Rightside Up, but he would physically manifest in the Upside Down as well. While the real world was dangerous, his consciousness would take him somewhere safe. We know that Will was physically in the Upside Down since the Mind Flayer was able to physically enter his body. We didn’t see the particles in the field where he was possessed, it was able to enter his body because he was actually there too.

So let’s say, for example, Lonnie would come home drunk and start getting violent. Will might find somewhere actually in the house to hide, for example a cabinet, but then as an extra protective measure his powers would bring him to the Upside Down and away from danger.

I think this would be akin to some kind of short-term dissacociation, which is basically a defense mechanism for traumatic situations that are hard to get away from.

This article also attributes dissociating to the freeze response, which is stated in the show to be Will’s fear response.

I don’t think Will was ever conscious of doing this, and he was probably so small when it was happening that he didn’t process what was really going on. Rather, I think this ability is triggered by extreme fear, more specifically fear of his father. In fact, I think this ability might be how Will actually went into the Upside Down in episode one. One was able to trigger a fear response so powerful that Will teleported into the Upside Down. And since the gate was open, all of Will went inside. I think this might be why he brought an impression of Hawkins with him. Kinda like a pinhole in a camera obscura, the moment that Will phased into the UD he brought with him an image of the town at that exact moment.

Now, in season two, Will does not go completely into the UD, despite the gate being open. This is because the Soteria is likely in his neck at this point, greatly supressing his powers. Furthermore, One had some control over when this was happening, although I do think he was amplifying it using Will’s emotions. I think there’s a reason he decided to do this during the anniversary of Will’s trauma.

An important part of this theory is Castle Byers, more specifically when and why it was built. Jonathan says in s2 that they built it the night dad left. As I hypothesized before, Will was phasing into the Upside Down because of his dad specifically, but then Castle Byers became his new safe space. As such, he wouldn’t need to phase into the UD, leaving an opening for someone to take it over.

We never get an exact date for when Lonnie left, but we know that it was some time before the events of s1. Furthermore, we don’t know how much time One was wandering around in the UD before he took it over, but it looks like he had been there for quite a while. I’m willing to bet that Lonnie left either before One took over the UD, meaning that Will wouldn’t have been occupying it and leaving a space for One to easily take it over.

This echoes exactly what One did to Castle Byers at the end of season one: He destroyed Will’s safe space.

Another important facet is how Will was able to hear his mom through the Upside Down, but Joyce was not able to hear him. If you wanted to hide from someone, it’s important they not hear you. However, it would be important to listen for when the coast is clear. Maybe whenever Will hid, it was always temporary, because eventually his mother would always reassure him that everything was okay and make him feel safe.

When Will is in the Upside Down in season one, the fear never goes away. Now that One is in charge, the creatures there are after him, and no amount of hiding will allow him to feel safe. This is why he can’t teleport back, because he doesn’t feel safe. But still, he is able to harness the love he has for his mother and find a way to communicate through the lights.

I know this post is already very long but I’ll write out the timeline here:

When Will is younger Lonnie is an abusive shit. Whenever Will gets scared and hide his consciousness takes him to the Upside Down for safety. When Lonnie leaves Will no longer needs to do this and Castle Byers becomes his new safe spot. At some point between Lonnie leaving and the start of season 5, One takes over the Upside Down, effectively destroying Will’s sense of security both figuratively and literally. Will hides in the UD Castle Byers has his last safe spot and it’s After the events of season one, Will has a Soteria placed in his neck (either by One or by Owens) which filters his teleporting abilities and comes through as True Sight.

[nanairoarts]

Excerpt from Cowboy Bebop: The Jazz Messenger - History (translation below)

GATE 位相差空間理論に基づき、 位相差空間に進入/ 航行を可能にしたのが位相差空間ゲートである。 位相差空間とは異次元空間のようなもので、この空間内をつないだゲートを通ることで太陽系内の移動時間が飛躍的に短縮できるようになった。また、太陽光線を遠くの惑星まで照射することもできるようになり、各惑星の地球化(テラフォーミング)も可能になったのだ。 通常空間から位相差空間を航行している宇宙船を見ると、光の点減が走り去っているように見え、とくにゲート付近ではその光が尾を引き、帯となって見える。また、通常空間を航行する宇宙船と位相差空間を航行する宇宙船は、それぞれが見えていながら、違う空間に存在しているため、交わっても接触することはない。 【そもそもゲートの発想は、 メカデサイン時、 太陽系内を短時間で移動するための新動力を考えているときに生みだされたものだそう。 また、ゲートのラフデザインは設定協力の河森正治が描き、 具体的なデサインおよびCGエフェクト監修はセットデサインの今掛勇が行なった】

GATE

Developed based on the Phase-space Theory1, the hyperspace gate is what allows ships to enter and navigate phase-space.

Phase-space is like an alternate dimension, and by passing through gates connected to this dimension, travel times to distant parts of the solar system are reduced drastically. This gate also made it possible to transmit sunlight to distant planets, making terraforming an option for as yet uninhabitable planets.

When looking at a ship traveling from normal space into  phase-space, it appears as a vanishing point of light. For those closer to the gate, this point of light stretches into a tail that looks like a band. Additionally, both ships traveling through normal space and phase-space can see one another, however, as they exist in two different dimensions, even if they intersect, they will never come into contact with one another.

[We came up with the idea for this gate during the mecha design process while brainstorming new propulsion systems for rapid travel within the solar system. The rough design of the gate was created with the help of Shoji Kawamori, while the specifics of the design, as well as the CG effects, were created by the Set Designer Isamu Imakake.]

(1:Upon further investigation into the Japanese term 位相差空間, I found a wiki page (only available in Japanese) that talks about phase space in physics where a space in which the coordinates (orthogonal axes) are the position and momentum of a dynamical system. The term phase space is also mentioned in the Hamiltonian mechanics Wikipedia article, which goes into the mathematics of the equations used in Hamiltonian mechanics. Uhhh, I can’t math, but I couldn’t find any direct mention of this being applied to space travel, although it is categorized under Industrial and applied mathematics. On a whim, however, I put phase space theory into Google, and found an English article for that which states that phase space is a space in which all possible "states" of a dynamical system or a control system are represented, with each possible state corresponding to one unique point in the phase space. My art and humanities degree does not allow me to process anymore information other than this. But I think the translation I’ll use for 位相差空間理論 is Phase-space Theory.)

[apoptoses]

Lestat/Daniel: "This was a terrible idea."

This is a terrible idea. Astronomically bad, worse than the time Daniel introduced Armand to the wonderful world of jello molds and got stuck eating aspics for a week. Daniel had come out of that phase with a bad case of indigestion and a life long aversion to jello shots but this-

Who knows what being drunk at a club with Lestat will get him?

Whatever. It's not Daniel's fault anyways. Lestat's the one who'd blown into Trinity Gate like a hurricane, grabbed him by the wrist and half dragged him out the door ("Come, Daniel, before Thorne and Cyril catch up and come nipping my heels!"). Lestat had hailed the cab, picked the club. Practically shoved him into the crowd to take little drinks off every patron in the place, until they were both tipsy off second-hand alcohol and molly and god knows what else these people have taken.

It's reckless. Dangerous, having their Prince out here with no one old enough in the blood to look out for him.

It's the biggest thrill Daniel has had in weeks.

"Do you know why I like you, Daniel?" Lestat asks.

He's sitting across from Daniel at a high top table, teetering on his bar stool. There's a smear of glitter on his cheek, picked up from one of their little victims. Daniel almost reaches up to wipe it away but then decides against it. Lestat looks younger than he ever has, wild and free in a way Daniel hasn't seen from him in since that fateful night on a stage in San Francisco.

And besides, he can't lift his hand. Lestat's clutching it like a palm reader, Daniel's hand turned up on the table while Lestat's thumbs rub back and forth over his blood-warmed palm. He's got more rings on his fingers than even Armand usually wears. Daniel can feel every one of them, silver and gold and covered in gems that brush against his fingers as Lestat plays with them like a child.

"Because I have Armand's credit card and a chronic inability to say the word 'no'?" Daniel jokes.

Lestat tips his head back and laughs. His adam's apple is so prominent in his throat. Daniel can't keep his eyes off it, just like he can't keep his mind off the way Lestat's fingers are creeping up to trace little patterns on the inside of his wrist.

Daniel shudders at the sensation, amplified as it is by being on the edge of wasted. He tucks his chin towards his chest and hopes Lestat doesn't see him blush like a teenage boy. He's 32 in body, well over 70 in soul. He should be over this, for god's sake. People shouldn't affect him this way.

But then again, this isn't just people. This is Lestat, who's been increasingly touchy with with him all night. Daniel keeps trying to convince himself that it's just Lestat's flirtatious nature, that it's the second-hand intoxication making him especially loose and free. That he shouldn't reciprocate or make a move of his own. If Lestat wanted him he'd do it himself. He's never been shy in that way, so far as Daniel knows.

Lestat leans in conspiratorially. Daniel is compelled to do the same, to get in so close their foreheads nearly touch.

"Because you don't treat me as anything special. Well- I mean there was that period where you were rather impressed with me for my music career but I can hardly blame you for that, cher," Lestat says, Louisiana drawl growing thicker with the effects of the alcohol. "There's no elephant in the room with you, no- no-"

Lestat fumbles for the word. Daniel raises a brow at him.

"Baggage?" he prompts.

"Yes! Baggage, that's it! There's no pressure to be anything other than exactly what I am," Lestat says as he turns Daniel's hand over and traces over the tendons that raise a path down to his knuckles. Before Daniel can process the enormity of that admission, he continues- "And do you know why else?"

"No, but I bet you're about to tell me."

Lestat's lips curl into a smirk. He's so close now Daniel swears he can see freckles on his nose, the very faintest shadow of them brought back to life by the sips of blood he'd taken from each and every single member of a bachelorette party they'd encountered. Daniel's drunk brain has the wild impulse to tip his chin up and kiss them, to nuzzle at his cheek-

He shakes his head. It's a silly thought. A reckless one. Better to let Lestat make the move, if he even intends on making one.

"Because you're freakishly tall," Lestat says.

The whiplash of it makes Daniel bury his face in his hand and laugh. "What? No I'm not! I'm the same size as you."

"No, no. You just have horrendous posture, is all- I assume from decades of leaning down to kiss your terror of a maker, he ruins everyone in one way or another- but!" Lestat declares, and then goes on before Daniel can argue. "I bet that if you stood up you would have at least an inch on me."

"But why would you like that about me?" Daniel asks even as he's been cajoled off his stool.

Lestat's grip on his hand is like a vice, there's no use protesting. And besides, Daniel doesn't really want to fight it, because fighting it would mean pulling his hand away entirely and breaking whatever this- this thing is between them that's been building all night.

Daniel stumbles to his feet. For a second the entire club seems to rotate on its axis but Lestat's face is all he can see, obscuring his line of vision and providing an anchor for him to focus on.

"Now shoulders back, stand up-" Lestat demands.

"I'm pretty sure we're supposed to be back to back, we need someone else to judge," Daniel says.

He's about to wave down a passing woman, but then Lestat steps forward right into his personal space. They're close again, enough that Daniel can feel the heat radiating off him. Lestat always burns hot, he's like a radiator with his ancient blood, and Daniel is helpless but to step even further into his warmth.

And Lestat's right. If he pulls himself up to his full height he's just tall enough that he has to tilt his gaze slightly downwards to make eye contact, that Lestat would have to tilt his chin up to make their mouths meet and-

"Well? Do you understand what there is to like about you being so very tall now, cher?" Lestat asks and gives his hand a meaningful squeeze.

And oh. Yeah, Daniel gets it. Daniel knows intimately what it's like to always be the biggest guy in the room and for once, finally, be made to feel small. It's an inch, maybe two inches difference between them but it's enough that now that Daniel notices it he can't not notice. Can't keep his mind off how he's a smidge bigger, a few years older in mortal years. A handful of qualities that might make him someone Lestat can relax with and just let go.

Lestat is his Prince. A former rock star, current best selling author, Armand's nemesis turned part-time lover. He's notorious in the best and worst ways.

And right now he's just a barely 20-something guy with glitter smeared on cheeks and eyeliner smudged around his grey eyes, drunk as any mortal in the room. And as he looks up into Daniel's eyes Daniel has the giddy realization that he's the one who's been waiting all night to have a move made on him.

Well? Don't tell me I have to make any more obvious. I never imagined I'd have to stand here like some desperate girl at a dance, waiting for you to take a hint.

"And here I thought you liked that I didn't treat you special," Daniel says, just to hear Lestat's indignant huff.

Kissing Lestat is a terrible idea. Enormously bad, worse than coming out with him at all. But Daniel doesn't care.

He leans in, closes the distance between them, and catches Lestat's mouth with his own.

[slayerkitty]

(Stages of) Grief and Loss in Last Twilight

So apparently I'm ready to meta this show right out of the gate! That's never happened before, lol. The last P'Aof show that aired was Moonlight Chicken and I was still learning about BL as a genre as well getting caught up on various BLs (I mean, I'm still getting caught up, but I'm way more well versed now, lol). It's exciting, actually getting to meta a P'Aof show.

@twig-tea was the first of the former Only Friends Ephemerality Squad to discuss Last Twilight with a focus on liminality. During our discussion on the characters and how liminality was affecting them, I mentioned that grief is liminal; @twig-tea replied with "When you’re in grief you’re not in the same space you were, and coming out the other side you’re different and the world feels different, and grief feels interminable, and you can’t feel the passing of time the same way."

That sentence, of course, got me thinking about the grieving process (because P'Aof seems to be once again using his art to work through his emotions surrounding loss; I remember that it was said he used Moonlight Chicken for this as well). I was further prompted by @waitmyturtles and their commentary on Mhok (Mork? I know Jimmy sanctioned Mork; have we settled on a spelling?) and how he is angry about and distanced from his sister's death.

Depending on where you look, there are 5-7 "stages" of grief. Per Medical News Today, they're listed as: Shock: This stage may involve numbed disbelief in response to news of a loss. It may serve as an emotional buffer to prevent someone from feeling overwhelmed. Denial: Denial may entail refuting the reality of the loss or any associated feelings. Once an individual accepts reality, they can move forward through the healing process. Anger: During this stage, an individual may direct their anger toward the person who died, doctors, family members, or even religious entities. It is important to address the anger. Bargaining: Bargaining involves thoughts such as “I will do anything if you take away the pain.” This stage may come at any point within the grieving process. It is frequently accompanied by guilt. Depression: At this stage, a person may experience feelings of emptiness and intense sadness. They may also withdraw from daily activities and things they once enjoyed. Testing: Testing is the process of trying to find solutions that offer a means of dealing with loss. Someone may drift in and out of other grieving stages during this time. Acceptance: This is the final stage of the grieving process. Acceptance does not mean people feel OK about a loss. Rather, it means they realize the loss is their new reality. They understand that while life will not continue as it did before, it will go on. This stage may involve reorganizing roles and forming new relationships.

I wanted to give a closer examination of specifically Mhok and Day and where they're at in the grieving process at the start of the show, as they've both suffered tragic, massive (albeit entirely different) losses.

Mhok:

Mohk's losses are huge but mostly affect only him. Prior to the start of the show, he had lost his parents (how they died and how long they've been gone isn't really mentioned but he and Rung don't seem too grief-stricken in the flashback to visiting them). He made a mistake, a fight went too far and he lost his freedom (so I'm a little unclear exactly how much time he spent in jail - was it the full year? or six months?), as well as presumably his home and his job.

Somewhere in the ensuing jail time, he lost his friends (assuming he was telling the truth to the guy who took his ankle monitor off) and it's implied he lost his girlfriend (I am fascinated by Mhok's relationship with his ex; with everything else he lost, he has managed to maintain a friendship with her - so much so that she has a boyfriend and it doesn't even phase him). The night Mhok is arrested, he loses his last remaining family member, his sister. Rung's death is clearly the thing he's struggling with the most - as @waitmyturtles said "There’s a lot of anger, a lot of regret, a lot of avoidance, a lot of dancing around the honest truth."

Mhok seems to have reached acceptance with most of the things he's lost - his parents, his job, his friends, his girlfriend - but he is struggling with his anger over his current situation (needing a job so he can, you know, have money to live - and also pay for his sister's car storage) as well as the anger he clearly feels toward his sister. Given how she died, Mhok says she's to blame.

Day:

Day's losses are completely different and affect everyone in his life, most notably his mother and his brother. While Mhok was just muddling through life before he lost everything, Day is at the top of the world. He's a champion badminton player, headed into an important match when the unthinkable happens - his vision goes blurry and he can't see clearly. Now, we don't get a lot of info up front about exactly what's wrong with Day's vision - one of the nurses at the hospital says he had some sort of car accident (where I'm assuming he would have hit his head?). As a result of his injury, Day has lost his career, but more importantly, he's lost control over his life.

His injury is in control now - every moment of every day is now centered around the fact that he can't see. Every interaction he has with his family has to do with his vision loss. What's interesting is that he seems to be fairly accepting of his injury, of the fact that he can't see. It's the way he's being treated as a result that is making him angry - his family is definitely made it so he has little to no agency and no self-sufficiency in his life. He's in a wheelchair so he can be pushed around the house (instead of just being able to learn where the furniture is and walk himself - though he is still getting over an ankle injury). His brother is giving up his entire life it seems to be Day's carer - something clearly neither of them want.

So we have two angry men with dealing with massive loss - and knowing P'Aof, we will go along on their journey acceptance and healing.

Tagging @waitmyturtles, @twig-tea, @ranchthoughts

If you'd like to be tagged in future metas, let me know and I'll add you!

[kuliak]

Changed some modules in the breakout case to try out some phrase-like sequencing with chained shapes.

QPAS, Sinc Bucina, and Data Bender are out. Cold Mac, Banshee Reach, Ikarie and Imitor Versio are in. Lag processing on Cold Mac is used to control a number of filter parameters, while it's actually opened and closed by a complex chained shape from Maestro. I love this - it's so expressive! My one complaint is that rising/falling edges are so sharp, but this could be fixed with a good slew rate limiter in the larger case. This all goes into Imitor, which receives rhythmic modulation occasionally which creates the noise bursts.

Daiko and ABD are the percussion, with Daiko mixed through Milky Way for some gated reverb. Just noodling around, I found this very pleasing phased rhythm, causing them to interact in very groovy ways.

Improvements across the board, but most importantly in creating interesting modulation with the Acid Rain duo and then properly performing it. All those mutes are there for a reason!

[ms-scarletwings]

Media Musin’ Monday, #7:

Screw You, Nickalodeon: Making Fiends Deserved Better

I have no idea how anyone could seriously believe that the entertainment industrial complex™ even tries anymore to hold the illusion of a just or meritocratic realm. No holds barred, I have my issues with about every company still clinging like barnacles to the tragic, sinking ship that cable TV has become, but if you want me to point to a network that’s given me an entire skeleton of bones to pick by this point, and I’m underlining Nickelodeon in red at the top of my list.

It’s not because they host some bad shows, no. It’s not a sour grapes reaction to the untimely end of some of my favorite shows either, and though the entire rotten apple situation with creators like Dan Schneider and Butch Hartman certainly added to barrel’s spoilage, I would still feel every bit of my disdain for Nick’s tv group for the one cardinal sin they have committed again and again and again to ad nauseum- their ongoing phase of running a talent slaughterhouse.

It sounds hyperbolic, but I’d call it a fair observation: Spongebob is widely aknowledged as legitimately both the best and the worst thing to happen to this corner of kid’s media, hands down, but I don’t blame the little yellow guy one bit. He’s only another victim to the mess, and as much as I would love to go on a whole dossier spiel of the history of Nickalodeon from the 90s “golden age” to a full list of the dozens of shows and creators their execs have royally fucked over in the name of chasing the ratings dragon… for one, that’s been done a hundred times by other people at this point, and much better than I could. For two, that would take all freaking day. Just off the top of any cartoon savvy person’s head you’d vaguely recall the assassination of Legend of Korra, El Tigre, or Invader Zim, but that can is filled with so many “blink and you’ll miss it” smaller shows that were barely given two steps out of the starting gate, it pads down an entire TVTropes article on the subject. Dozens of them, shows that Nick all but basically set up for failure before quietly shipping them to the peaceful farm upstate- by which I mean shuffled off to inconsistent time blocks and lower priority channels so they could burn out their final approved episodes in hospice. Nicktoons alone garnered a hell of a reputation for exactly what I’m talking about, but that’s show biz, or… something.

Their worst and probably most audacious offense of all? Let me tell you about the fate of the charming world of a little girl who made fiends.

There’s no better place to talk about the end than the beginning.

Making Fiends, I mean, the original Making Fiends was a series of flash-animated shorts among a handful of other early 2000s web cartoons made by Amy Winfrey.

✨ Just, in case you didn’t recognize or feel something for that name, Amy Winfrey is one of the utter beasts of cartoons in general, not purely kids’ media. Songwriter, directing, animation, screenwriting, voice acting… you name a part of the process, and she’s probably dipped her toe in there at some point. Professionally, she broke into the industry contributing work to earliest season of South Park, and while she personally is most known for and associated with Making Fiends, the likely most prominent body of work she’s been a part of would be Bojack Horseman, wherein she’s credited as a director for many of its strongest episodes, including (but not limited to):

- “Free Churro”

- “The Telescope”

- "Sunk Cost and All That"

- “The View from Halfway Down”

- Amy Winfrey and her spouse (Peter Merryman) making a cameo appearance in the BJH episode “sunk cost and all that”

And even before all of that, she’s been at this animation stuff since the 90s and it shows in a loaded up portfolio of accolades and projects, both professional and personal.

The relevance of this information is to help put in some perspective to just how rotten of a deal she comparatively got with Nickelodeon, when one of those passion creations got a chance to join the network’s airing list.

But to sum up the idea of the web series proper, it independently released 24 short episodes in total, each centered around the antics of two girls engaged in both a completely one sided friendship and nemesis-ship. The show’s namesake refers to the single action the evil little Vendetta is most known for- creating a variety of servant monsters, many of which she uses to secure her rule over the port town of Clamburg, and all its inhabitants. Charlotte, on the other hand, is the quintessential “children’s show” character: near inhumanly kind, cheerful, and naive. So much so that she’s oblivious to her “best friend’s” near daily attempts to murder her, or the fact that she, you know, despises her.

In 2006, Nickelodeon took an interest in Winfrey’s toon and the prospect of adapting it into a TV series, reportedly because a daughter of a studio employee was a huge fan.

And fun fact btw, this was actually the first time that Nick did this approach of turning an indie web animation into one of their shows, but it certainly wasn’t the last if you remember this was also the origin of Breadwinners.

And as far as the audience was concerned, it was quite the successful transition! The TV version pretty much kept all of the major beats and vibes of the original, with polished animation, the same voice actors, and some stylistic upgrades to the art/environmental designs. For a brief time, it was the highest rated thing on its release channel too. Someone I don’t quite recall the name of once endearingly referred to the show as “baby’s first grimdark” and I adore how fitting of a summary that is. It sports a charmingly unique art style, memorable soundtrack, and I can swear to y’all, the humor aged like a fine wine.

“Why don’t you pretend to be dead?”

“:) ok!”

*slam*

(Also, sidenote, the entire series is still up on your tube, in HD, completely free to watch!)

So, if it’s such a neat little show, then why on earth does barely a soul seem to remember it existing? And even fewer scare who recall knowing about the show during its 2008 release?

Because Nickelodeon Studios, without hyperbole, set this show up for failure at every single turn before it even got a fighting chance.

People know of some shows that Nick treated like garbage, but this one they treated like absolute shit for reasons I can’t fathom.

Making Fiends, for one, never actually saw the light of day on the main network channel, as per the original plans. It was actually instead delegated over to Nick’s sister channel, Nicktoons, by a last minute decision.

Nicktoons, fyi, was not carried by most cable packages. I obviously lived on it as a kid, and it was functionally to Nick what I remember Boomerang being to Carton Network- the cable block where reruns of much older but loved shows were shoveled off to once they finished their days on the main channel.

Second, it was quietly premiered with barely a couple farts of advertising, too. I remember maybe seeing one preview as a kid, on Nicktoons.

And I guess, not keeping either of these in mind, Nick then abruptly pulled the plug on the whole thing, citing the tried and true “low ratings” explanation and leaving it at that.

Not counting years of post-cancelation reruns, the show actively ran from October 4, 2008, to November 1, 2008.

That is roughly a month between premiere and the end production date.

One season. Six entire episodes.

Seven whole additional completed scripts abandoned on the table.

Yeah.

I’m a touch salty about it still.

And with the shutting down of the Nicktoons network social media in 2018, any additional acknowledgment of the show from Nickelodoen themselves has kind of vanished to my knowledge. Like, it’s almost no wonder you already had to be part of the cult following to know about it, when Nick has been quiet about the calf they sent to auction since. Worst part is, they still hogged the rights to the show instead of idk, wild idea, giving it back over to Winfrey. I can only imagine people get away with entire reuploads of the series under the otherwise very IP protective Nick’s nose as another display of how low and bastardly those execs really view Making Fiends.

And that sucks! Wow! But I guess in a “be happy it happened, not sad it ended” way, I’m kind of glad for the fact that we can still enjoy and pass around the show that we did get to experience at all, rather than see it fade into true lost media territory.

Even today, about 16 whole years later, I know for a fact there are still plenty of other fans that remember and cherish the splash this tiny show made in that big, brutal pond. So, in that manner, you can’t truly call Making Fiends dead and gone.

A bittersweet story to think about, and only one of many down a long list, but ultimately one I’m happy to be able to tell at all.

Even if all the while still raising a giant middle finger to the network for the ending.

[kon4ka]

Touch MEME Baldur's Gate 3 OC: Blur

I didn't have much time, but I made a Touch meme for Blur.

His original version with one pose seemed a bit boring to me, so I sketched out different ones. 1) Arcane combat clothing. 2) Camping and hiking clothes. 3) Camp clothing is more revealing. 3) Underwear.

In fact, Blur is still untouchable and the transition of their phase to phase -the process is very slow. I thought it would be interesting to show how fairy wings work in terms of tactility. They themselves are very flexible and plastic; on the upper edge of the wing there is a thickening, which gives the shape to the wings (we will talk about their structure later separately). At the base, the wings become thicker and this place is an erogenous zone, which is also why Blur did not let anyone near her back for a long time. The wings themselves are not sensitive, but mainly the veins on them are sensitive, and the base of the wings is the place of their mass accumulation. Can you try to guess who was the first to try to grab Blur's wing (and whether he paid for it)? RU

Было не очень много времени, но я сваяла Touch meme для Блюр.

Его оригинальная версия с одной позой показалась мне скучноватой, поэтому я наскетчила разных. 1) Боевая чародейская одежда. 2) Лагерная-походная одежда. 3) Лагерная более открытая одежда. 3) Нижнее бельё.

На самом деле Блюр та ещё недотрога и переход их фазы в фазу - процесс очень небыстрый. Мне показалось будет интересным показать как в плане тактильности работают крылья фей. Сами по себе они очень гибкие и пластичные, на верхнем ребре крыла расположено утолщение, которое и придаёт форму крыльям (об их устройстве потом как-нибудь отдельно). У основания крылья становятся толще и это место является эрогенной зоной, в том числе поэтому Блюр к своей спине долгое время вообще никого не подпускала. Крылья сами по себе не чувствительны, а чувствительными являются в основном прожилки на них, а основание крыльев является местом их массового скопления.

Можете попытаться угадать кто первый попытался схватить Блюр за крыло (и поплатился ли за это)?

[morgansmornings]

Dust on the Bottle

Closed Starter for @ifyoucatchacriminal 's Jack Hodgins.

~~*~~

Her stint at the British Museum in London had been cut short. Her plans of deep exploration of their Egyptology department were thrown out the window when word got to her about Jack had been kidnapped and then buried alive. When she tried to pry for answers she got ‘It’s over.He’s safe home. Recovering.’ which was code for ‘I can’t tell you. And I am not going to.’ Which was ridiculous, because she was the second closest person to Jack that she knew. The first being Zach, but only because the pair shared the estate. Though she was sure she could just move her stuff into Jack’s house and it wouldn’t have phased him.

But being stuck in England with guilt that she didn’t know how to process which made getting back home a far greater hassle than needed. Four days. It was four days between her learning that he was home and all but ramming the front of her car into the gates of his estate. Between getting red-eye flights, customs, checking in, getting someone to come get her stuff and a second driver to bring her her car. She would have racked up tickets left, right, and centre if the traffic allowed her to.

She almost dropped the I.D. several times in her haste to get within the walls. Barely waited before there was enough room to speed through and up the driveway. Car keys left to fall on the floorboard, car door left open as she sprinted to the front door. The chain in which she kept the keycard for the house was pulled out ot her pants pocket and used. Shoving the barrier open and carving a path inside.

It was evening by the time she found herself calming in the familiar home. Marks of Jack’s movements here and there. It helped calm the whirlwind of panic and fear she had since she had gotten the phone call.

“Khepri! Jack, are you here?!” Jayden called out with the hopes that she hadn’t just barged into an empty house. She would feel utterly stupid if she had. But there would be time for explanation once she had her eyes on her best friend. If she could see it, and she could touch it, then things were real. And she needed him to be real.

“Don’t make me use your full government name! I will!”

[by-izz]

I saw your Minthara drawings and just wanted to say WOW, you're talented! Do you have any tips for digital drawing, and especially getting facial features so accurate?

Hello there, MischievousSeagull.

Thank you for the ask and for the compliment. I really appreciate it. Minthara is just too gorgeous not to draw her (every day, for the rest of my life).

To answer your question, I must say I am very much an amateur and self-taught as well so my advice my not be what professional artists would always agree with. I personally regret not studying art and doing character and object studies when I was younger because I believed 'drawing from references was cheating' so I never did. Now I know that in order to draw a character and make it look like themselves you will need:

1. Start with high quality references:

I aim for a few different ones from different angles, with good light but not flat light as this washes out facial features. I usually find something I like and then wing the rest of it. I recommend checking out and supporting Baldurs Gate 3 community in game photographers, they are amazing! The bigger the resolution, the better, so you can see the the details clearly and avoid ending guessing 'is this a shadow or a dimple or a smudge?'. Also, studying the references will help you recognise the characters features. And Minthara has a few!

It helps me to keep the reference in grey scale for and even with slightly more contrast to better understand the structure of the face, especially if I am just learning to draw a new character.

2. Make the features match:

There are so many different ways of approaching the form here and I ended up trying out a few ones. I personally need to have some kind of guide for the relative position of eyes, mouth and middle of the face as it can save from making massive errors. But I am becoming more and more impatient and mostly just wing it and spend hours correcting it later.

Doesn't matter how you do it: using the Loomis method, Asaro Head/planes of the head model (I love it, it helps a lot, especially if you are planning to have more detailed shading in your art!), Reilly method or the thirds method, colour blocking shapes method that they teach in art schools (I do that chaotically sometimes) or just mark the positions of features from references or just trace it, this is 50% of success. It doesn't matter how you get there, especially if you are a beginner.

What I have been doing with Minthara is trying different faces, sometimes just the reference, with my chosen body position and choosing the one that looks 'least off' and then sketching it. I remember to mark the features of the face as it's crucial at this stage, whether you stylise your art a lot or just stick to the character proportions: thin lips, deep/almost hooded eyes, the way her buccal pads are shaped, the more pronounced nasal dorsum and the adorable angry look of concern with furrowed brows. And obviously the ears. However, I will make the ears longer and the eyes slightly bigger as it looks better for my style.

The structure is very important because and you gave to trust the process. The ugly phase can be torture and if the drawing has no redeemable features, I will never come back to it. However, the next step can lift it all up.

3. Shape it with darknesss and light:

Choosing the way you render can make a big difference in how the drawing turns out. What helps me at this stage, after I have my base colour established and filled my shapes with it, is to have a layer with shadows (copy the base colour and just change layer properties to multiply and time it dial it down to 50%) and a layer with light (the same but use a different mode like Add or Screen) and that's the base for shading on which I build my colours. But to be fair, I am not great at this and I still refuse to aim for a higher contrast in my drawings. This is something I'd like to improve in this srea. I learned to avoid airbrush and work with blending brushes.

I usually play with these light and dark layers until it looks okayish, then proceed with adding extra light and some details. If I keep forgetting where they light is coming from, I draw a little sun to remind me.

4. Ok, now crisis control:

Sometimes, even if I have the most perfect reference the more I render, the less it looks like the person I intended for it to look like. This is why I keep doing these things throughout the process:

A) Mirroring: canvas>flip horizontal every now and then. Our brains lie to us and if you look at your art long enough,you will not be able to see mistakes. Sometimes, when I want to finish something quickly, I end up not checking for errors (wrong eye position, nonsensical anatomy, etc), and seeing the final version after sometime, it can make me feel like a rubbish artist. Having breaks and coming back to unfinished art is a good way to keeping it a little bit more objective as well.

B) Levels in grey scale: Rendering is hard and with little understanding how colours work it can ruin the best lineart more sketch. It helps to have a grey layer set to Colour on top of your art to check if the dark and light balance is there and if shapes look the way you wanted them to look. My brain likes bright colours and sometimes they don't go well with the rest of the composition, this is where grey scale helps with planning it all.

C) Check what went wrong with the reference: If I mess up badly and nothing is improving my drawing, I will go back to the original reference. Mirroring both helps to look at the structure with fresh eyes but if that fails, I will try to redo the base form or marked features in the reference. If it's hopeless, I'll trace the features until the drawing looks right to me.

I used to draw by looking at reference on a (in)famous okeaki platforms and I learned many things from just going back to the form over and over using guidelines on both the drawing and the reference as one couldn't import a picture in that software like we can do in Procreate. I recommend just studying forms and shapes and simplifying complex structures. I'd be a much better artist if I wasn't feeling like it was cheating back them. Going to various exhibitions and learning that my favourite artists traced their own photos and built the composition around them blew my mind and encouraged me to explore more ways of creating art.

I hope this answers your questions and I hope to see your work in the near future and the planned animatics! I'm learning Procreate Dreams and hoping to create a few short animations, once I get the hang of it.

This was a bit long but it was a really good question and one that I often ask myself in the process. Thanks for asking! I almost ended up doing a tutorial on Minthara's features but that'd be overdoing it, haha!

Cheers to creativity!

Izzy

[nanairoarts]

Excerpt from Cowboy Bebop: The Jazz Messenger - History (translation below)

HISTORY 西暦2022年、地球上空で開発中の位相差空間ゲートが大爆発を起こしたとき、すべては始まった。 爆発に巻き込まれた月の破片が地球に振りそそぎ、放射線汚染と環境の変化でもはや地表に人類は住めなくなってしまった。残された人類は地下シェルターでの生活を余儀なくされ、そこに入りきれない人々はほかの惑星へと移住せざるを得なくなった。幸い、研究段階にあったテラフォーミング技術が位相差空間ゲートにより実現のメドがたち、皮肉にも、人類はゲートにより地球から放り出され、ゲートによって地球以外の惑星で生活できるようになったのである。 国家は、なしくずし的になくなり、人種は入り乱れた。 西暦は終わり、宇宙暦が始まった。 時が経つにつれ、各惑星や衛星は独立国家へと姿を変え、 経済も徐々に復興し始める。スパイクたちの乗るような小型の宇宙船も、ぞくぞくと市場に出回ることになった(要免許) そのかたわらで経済格差も広がっていき、スラム街も増え、犯罪は増加の一方をたどっていく(とくに宇宙暦初頭は法もロクに整備されておらず、犯罪組織が暗躍する時代でもあった)。 激増する犯罪に対抗するため、各惑星はついに太陽系刑事警察機構（I. S. S. P. = Inter Solar System Police）を設立、国家を超えた犯罪者に立ち向かうと同時に、賞金制度を設け、賞金稼ぎに対して超法規的措置（犯罪者をとらえるためなら多少の違法行為も帳消しにされる)をとることも決定した。 ゲート事故から50年、「ビバップ」はそんな混沌とした時代の物語である。

HISTORY

It all began in the year 2022, when a catastrophic explosion ripped apart a hyperspace gateway(*1) under construction in Earth's orbit.

Caught in the blast of the large explosion, pieces of the moon rain down onto the surface of the earth, rendering the planet uninhabitable due to widespread environmental destruction and radioactive contamination. What remained of humanity was forced to live underground in shelters. Those that could not find room in these shelters, were forced to migrate off-world. Luckily, the terraforming technology that was still in its research phase gained traction after the hyerspace gateway incident. Though it was the destruction of the gate that had forced humans from Earth, it was thanks to this very same technology that humans were able to establish a new life on planets beyond Earth.

Nations ceased to exist, and the races of old Earth began to mix.

And so ended use of the Western Gregorian calendar in favor of the Space calendar(*2).

Over time, each planet and satellite became its own independent nation and the economy began to recover. Smaller spaceships, like the one used by Spike and his crew, flood the market in droves (license required).

At the same time, economic inequality was rampant, there were more slums, and crime continued to rise (especially in the early years of the Space calendar when there were few laws in place and criminal organizations thrived).

In response to the surge in crime, the I.S.S.P (Inter Solar System Police) was established on every planetary body to fight against these interplanetary criminals. At the same time, a bounty system was implemented that granted bounty hunters extrajudicial power (which allowed the execution of any illegal acts committed in the process of apprehending criminals).

The story of Bebop takes place during this chaotic era, 50 years after the hyperspace gateway incident.

*1: I think a closer translation for the Japanese word for this gate, 位相差空間ゲート, would be phase shift gate, as that seems to be the scientific phenomenon referred to with the Japanese name, however, since your average viewer likely doesn't know what ‘phase shifting’ is, I understand why translators would go with a more localized term like ‘hyperspace’ or ‘astral gate’.

*2: I couldn’t find any references for how 宇宙歴 is translated in the English version. It’s possible the term was avoided altogether if it never showed up in dialogue.

[psychologeek]

Liminality (by any other name)

skill is the learned ability to act with determined results with good execution often within a given amount of time, energy, or both.

Life skills are abilities for adaptive and positive behavior that enable humans to deal effectively with the demands and challenges of life. The subject varies greatly depending on social norms and community expectations but skills that function for well-being and aid individuals to develop into active and productive members of their communities are considered as life skills.

..........

Liminal is an English adjective meaning "on the threshold", from Latin līmen, plural limina.

May refer to:

In anthropology, liminality is the quality of ambiguity or disorientation that occurs in the middle stage of a rite of passage, when participants no longer hold their pre-ritual status but have not yet begun the transition to the status they will hold when the rite is complete. During a rite's liminal stage, participants "stand at the threshold" between their previous way of structuring their identity, time, or community, and a new way (which completing the rite establishes). More recently, usage of the term has broadened to describe political and cultural change as well as rites. During liminal periods of all kinds, social hierarchies may be reversed or temporarily dissolved, continuity of tradition may become uncertain, and future outcomes once taken for granted may be thrown into doubt. The dissolution of order during liminality creates a fluid, malleable situation that enables new institutions and customs to become established. The term has also passed into popular usage and has been expanded to include liminoid experiences that are more relevant to post-industrial society.

Liminal beings are those that cannot easily be placed into a single category of existence.

liminal deity is a god or goddess in mythology who presides over thresholds, gates, or doorways; "a crosser of boundaries". These gods are believed to oversee a state of transition of some kind; such as, the old to the new, the unconscious to the conscious state, the familiar to the unknown.

Liminal spaces are the subject of an Internet aesthetic portraying empty or abandoned places that appear eerie, forlorn, and often surreal. Liminal spaces are commonly places of transition (pertaining to the concept of liminality) or of nostalgic appeal. Research from the Journal of Environmental Psychology has indicated that liminal spaces may appear eerie or strange because they fall into an uncanny valley of architecture and physical places.

Psychology:

Liminal experiences, feelings of abandonment (existentialism) associated with death, illness, disaster, etc. Existential thought bases itself fundamentally in the idea that one's identity is constituted neither by nature nor by culture, since to "exist" is precisely to constitute such an identity.

In Depth Psychology:

Jungians have often seen the individuation process of self-realization as taking place within a liminal space. "

Individuation can be seen as a "movement through liminal space and time, from disorientation to integration [...] What takes place in the dark phase of liminality is a process of breaking down [...] in the interest of 'making whole' one's meaning, purpose and sense of relatedness once more".

As an archetypal figure, "the trickster is a symbol of the liminal state itself, and of its permanent accessibility as a source of recreative power".

Jungian-based analytical psychology is also deeply rooted in the ideas of liminality. The idea of a 'container' or 'vessel' as a key player in the ritual process of psychotherapy has been noted by many and Carl Jung's objective was to provide a space he called "a temenos, a magic circle, a vessel, in which the transformation inherent in the patient's condition would be allowed to take place."

Jungians however have perhaps been most explicit about the "need to accord space, time and place for liminal feeling"—as well about the associated dangers, "two mistakes: we provide no ritual space at all in our lives [...] or we stay in it too long". Indeed, Jung's psychology has itself been described as "a form of 'permanent liminality' in which there is no need to return to social structure".

Please vote for a name! :)

[spacemonkeysalsa]

Appetites

Five years ago the Vampire Ascendant Astarion helped save Baldur's Gate. He has everything he ever wanted, and he's miserable.

Isolde is nobody, and has nothing. When given the option to become a vampire spawn, her response gives Astarion a moment of pause; “No. Thank you. I think I’ll just die.”

(Angst and fluff and smut) Changed up the format because it was starting to look so silly with 20+ chapters.

Check it out on Ao3 from the beginning or jump into chapter twenty three below the cut.

An hour into the process of trying to prepare the new spell, Astarion was drenched in sweat, and starting to feel a bit hopeless again. The transformation process that Vovka was walking him through was nothing like the more innate abilities he’d cultivated to take on various animal forms.

Gods, he hoped he could learn to do that again some day. He didn’t want to ask the cambion too many questions. It was starting to feel too much that asking for information was the same as asking for help.

The three of them had moved to Astarion’s office, Vovka directing him, prompting him to take notes, even, while Isolde just observed, standing sentinel and supportive. She wasn’t phased by much, he noted with a little pang of affection. Of course, he’d seen that in her from the beginning. It was one of the things he liked about her. 

But, then there was the way she’d clung to him and cried out when he was in pain. He could clearly picture the concern on her face—it hadn’t been entirely consistent with how he saw her in his mind’s eye, acerbic and unbothered even under the most dire circumstances. It was jarring, not the least of which because she was concerned for him. He hated that, if he was honest with himself. He knew, intelligently, that she couldn’t help it, and even that he’d actively cultivated those feelings in her.

He made her care about him. Now, he wondered why. Why did he work so hard to get under her skin, when he felt such aversion to her showing any concern for him? He didn’t like feeling weak, vulnerable.

Then again, he’d let himself relax into her control the night before and that had felt good.

Being worshiped physically by someone wasn’t the same as genuine concern and affection though. And, perhaps it was just the simple fact that he hated that there was anything legitimate to be concerned about. Yes. It might not have anything to do with her at all, really.

“I have to figure this out by tomorrow—I have places to be,” Astarion finally blurted out.

“I told you, that might not work,” Vovka sat on the edge of the big wooden desk, which held up well enough that it had only scooted about an inch under his weight.

Astarion was doing circles around him, disturbed by how quickly he was learning to adjust his wings and tail to navigate the space around him so that he only occasionally knocked into the chair, the book shelf, the desk, his own legs or Vovka.

He had some experience with having a tail or wings, and so the muscle memory of controlling them was there for him to access, but not in this context, and not at this scale.

Isolde had taken up in the chair, but moved it away from the desk, so that she could observe the two of them from a distance, and within reach of one of the bookshelves on the wall. She was browsing the titles here and there, and hadn’t said a word since entering the room, but the sense that he got from her was one of pensive reflection, not moodiness. She was less upset by all this than it had initially seemed, and was taking the return of her brother with an air of stoicism that was almost cold.

The two of them weren’t quite indifferent to each other though. In fact, when Astarion wasn’t focusing all of his faculties on trying to reclaim the body he’d lost. Again. He couldn’t help but notice how both of them had adopted a comfortable stance of keeping still and quiet, and a little closed, with arms and legs crossed, but oriented towards each other, keeping each other in the corners of their eyes always.

Whatever they said, the siblings clearly needed to talk.

Later though. The present was very much about Astarion and he wasn’t about to make a single apology for that.

“Let’s take a break,” Vovka suggested, with a slight shift he cracked his back, and the effect rippled through his wings with a satisfying series of snaps.

“No. I can’t disappear from society. I need to be seen and I can’t be seen like this.” Astarion was sure he’d said it already, and from the weary blink of Vovka’s burning eyes, he was sure the cambion had heard him the first time.

The world seemed to be on Vovka’s side, however, because Astarion’s keen ears twitched as something thundered towards them from outside the room.

Being an exceptionally skilled and graceful warrior, Lae’zel could travel as light-footed as she liked, but when she wanted to stomp, she could do that too. She burst into the room without a knock, and Astarion was fairly certain that the only reason she didn’t immediately strike him with a closed fist was because the last thing in the world she had been expecting was to find him half-naked, fiend-marked, and in the company of a young cambion.

She balked, eyes narrowed, but he must have been able to convey the exasperation and modest amount of shame he felt with some success, because he watched her brilliant amber eyes flicker over the room, process the shock, and their casual acceptance of the situation and then she relaxed and said. “Well. Alright then.” And that was apparently all the reaction she had for them.

Isolde got to her feet with a sigh to relieve the tension. “We weren’t afforded the opportunity for an introduction. I’m Isolde. I gather you and Astarion had some adventures together?”

“Indeed,” Lae’zel was still looking at Astarion with narrowed eyes, but her hands weren’t in fists any longer and she crossed them, one side of her brow lifting. “Lae’zel of Crèche K'liir.” She bowed and Isolde, always quick to read the room, returned the gesture.

“This is Vovka. My brother. Helpful council in these unprecedented times.”

Vovka did not bow, but inclined his head in Lae’zel’s direction and Astarion was left with the firm impression that this alone challenged the cambion’s capacity to stand on decorum. Although, on reflection that made some sense for a person in the habit of just appearing in rooms uninvited.

Lae’zel nodded like she understood and buried any questions she might have about all that with a dry sniff and shift to her business. “Astarion and I have shared adventures together. We’ve once felled Chosen, fiends and illithid scum back to back. And we may yet again. Though I gather, he is occupied at present with many a personal matter. As am I.”

“This is, uh…” Astarion started to try and provide an explanation, even if Lae’zel didn’t need one, he wasn’t sure he wanted to allow her speculation on the subject. “A recent complication to my relationship with a certain archdevil.”

“Which one?” asked Lae’zel darkly.

“Not that one, the other one.” He stuttered over this explanation, only realizing as he spoke that he wasn’t being clear. There were rumors that so much as saying a devil’s name out loud could alert you to their presence, however. He wasn’t sure if he believed such superstitions, but the last thing he needed was to also have Raphael’s attention. Lae’zel seemed well enough to interpret what he was saying though, because she said, “Yes. I could guess as much on my own,” with an air of heavy sincerity. Lae’zel sliced him with the merest flicker of a grin, but it quickly gave way to real concern, bludgeoning and merciless as she added. “I take no pleasure in saying that I told you as much, back when you made your choice, and Wyll supported you, against my council. I understand why you took the offered power. And why you believed you needed it.”

Astarion wanted to make her explain that. Unpack all the little cautious pauses and thoughtful glances. At the same time, he wanted to never speak of it again with her, or with anyone. Especially not with any of his companions who had actually been present for the ritual, as Lae’zel had been.

“I am here for the child,” she said in a clipped tone. “You’ll not stop me a second time. If my own heart could not, then I think you understand you don’t have a chance.”

“I’m not holding Eggbert captive,” Astarion scoffed. “He doesn’t want to go with you.”

“Only because he doesn’t understand.” Lae’zel pressed, nails threatening to bite into the flesh of her palms again, but her simmering rage was a waste of energy, he held up a hand, indicating that she should let him finish. As he did so, his wings lifted, shivered involuntarily and he felt a small squirm in his stomach, his tail lashed as well. He hadn’t meant to do any of it. This was going to take some getting used to. The last thing he needed was additional appendages to give away his feelings, even to those closest to him.

“That may be true,” said Astarion evenly, once he was sure that Lae’zel wasn’t about to interrupt him at a shout. “In all likelihood, that is true. And the child is nothing to me, and I do believe you are probably his best possible caretaker. So, why don’t you go prove that and try talking to the child and convincing him to leave with you?”

“I did try—” but Lae’zel face colored and she let out a low breath mingled with a muffled, “tsk'va.”

“Did you really?” asked Astarion dryly.

“Circumstances were… tense,” Lae’zel huffed. “And things have barely calmed down. Shadowheart could be back any moment.”

“Will she be? Did you not come up with some clever way to detain her? Not like you to let a strategic advantage slip away.” But he regretted saying it the moment he spoke. That wasn’t entirely true when it came to Shadowheart. Lae’zel made a lot of exceptions for her, and he saw the shadow of hurt in her gaze. He sighed, neither willing, nor perhaps even capable of comforting her on this topic. “Eggly is only my ward by his own will, and the convenience of my—apparently many softhearted members of the household. If he wishes to go with you, we’ll let him go. The rest is entirely your problem, my friend.”

Lae’zel seemed satisfied with that, if not happy. “Fine.” She moved as if to take her leave, then stopped, eyes narrowed on Astarion. “I’m meant to meet with Wyll later today.”

Astarion’s stomach dropped, because he knew exactly what her warning tone implied. She was going to tell him that Astarion had been punished for an infraction on the deal with Mephistopheles. He thought about protesting, but his throat was all twisted, his tongue heavy in his mouth. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing, if Wyll knew that Astarion had also been marked as a fiend. Perhaps he’d have some advice. It wasn’t the kind of thing that Astarion would ever ask for, but it was exactly the kind of thing that Wyll would think of, unasked, given the merest hint of need. It was just too bad that the price would undoubtedly be Wyll’s own scrutiny.

Lae’zel stepped out into the hallway but added, “expect him to call a little later,” before she shut the door.

“...She didn’t mean Duke Wyllyam Ravenguard? Did she?” Vovka asked with a chuckle as the door shut.

Isolde’s eyes got wide, as this was clearly not something she’d considered, “did she?!”

“The very devil,” said Astarion.

Vovka’s dark chuckle deepened, “he killed a buddy of mine once—deserved,” he added, with a shrug. “But, still, good time to step out—”

“—I know this isn’t your problem,” Astarion would not beg, “and I can practice on my own for a while, but I need to learn this. Fast.”

“I’ll be back later,” said Vovka reasonably, “besides, I’m late to check in with my warlock anyway.”

“You will be back though?” Isolde sounded like she was barely containing herself, but she wouldn’t beg either.

Vovka regarded her a moment, his mouth almost turning into a frown. In the end, he didn’t reassure her or repeat himself, and that felt pointed. Instead, he approached her, planting a firm kiss on the top of her head before he quit them by way of a portal conjured by that mismatched ring he wore on his finger.

 Isolde looked at Astarion with an infuriating mixture of pity and hope. He couldn’t meet her eyes, found his gaze listing to the floor instead.

“There must be something you can wear?” she asked cautiously, the need to help as well as an awareness of just how upset he was somehow so painfully apparent in her voice that it made his jaw clench. He resisted the urge to lash out at her.

Nothing he owned would accommodate wings, and the only clothing tailored for tails belonged to Aurelia. It would be too tight, and besides that, was also purposefully designed to make her look like a small planetouched version of their hateful former master. He’d rather go naked. “Shame it didn’t happen at Figaros,” Astarion muttered.

Isolde’s attention fell on the desk for a few minutes, and she leafed through the ledger curiously while Astarion brooded in silence for a stretch of uncomfortable minutes.

It was unproductive brooding. His mind whirled in circles. So many problems. No decent solutions. Was there someone he could kill? Perhaps what he really needed was to be good and blooddrunk for a few hours.

Gods, he was going to look terrifying swooping down on some victim like this.

Isolde softly drew his attention away from his wandering mind with a sweeping gesture to his books, “Is this what you do in here all day? Maths?”

“Sometimes. Today? I can’t,” he knew he sounded moody, pouting, it grated his own ears to hear himself take such an undignified tone, and for some reason it bothered him immensely that Isolde was around to hear it. “I can’t focus on any of it.” It wasn’t like it was going to help anyway. 

Isolde examined the books with a slight frown. “This is very broad business. It looks as though you’re examining the whole of your assets.”

That was exactly what he was doing, and he could only assume she picked up on it so quickly because he was still in the process of curating each category of wealth. “Barnes got a head start on me. I’m really just confirming what he’s already told me. The total worth of the estate.”

“Why are you trying to determine the estate’s total worth? You’re thinking of selling it?” Isolde cocked an eyebrow at him, a little confusion wrinkling her features.

It was a strange notion, but not as strange as the truth. Trying to sell an estate as large and with as much history and baggage as Szarr Palace would not be a simple process. Not to mention, attempts to leave the city he’d so effectively rooted himself into would suggest dire circumstances indeed. Astarion considered Isolde a moment, then with a sigh, decided that the truth of the matter wouldn’t hurt. She could tell him what a fool he was, and he’d have to agree with her. “I once held the acquaintance of a primordial god. Jergal, we’ve always assumed, though he never confirmed our assumptions. He toddled along with us, as insurance. For whatever reason, there was quite a lot riding on our success in a certain… endeavor.”

Stallworth as always in the face of utter nonsense, Isolde only nodded, following, even if that expression of confusion still shadowed her black eyes.

“We didn’t entirely trust him, truth be told, so we didn’t test the limits of his services. He offered us, essentially, an endless supply of scrolls of true resurrection, for the deeply discounted price of two hundred gold each.”

“Two hundred gold?” Isolde’s eyes lit up. It was probably a lot of wealth for her, but a scroll of true resurrection was priceless, and it seemed she could appreciate the bargain.

“Like I said, we tried not to test it. I never perished during our time together. I like to think they would’ve brought me back if I had, but—” he shrugged, cutting himself off, “I guess we’ll never know. In any case, others in our party did have need of his services, and we did offer up the gold to resurrect them, and---probably Jergal—obliged. Until our task was complete. Then, we were left to our own devices, free to die with no further interference.”

“That’s fascinating,” Isolde was shaking her head, perhaps a subtle expression of disbelief, but she bit her lip and met his eyes again, “what does that have to do with your wealth now?”

“Well,” Astarion scoffed a little at himself in anticipation of what he was about to say. It was a rather embarrassing train of thought. “Ever since bringing Aurelia back, and especially since Aurelia brought back Leon, I was thinking about all that again. And I couldn’t help but wonder, if I were to track down the clattering old skeleton, if he could be persuaded to honor his prices from five years ago.”

“You mean, two hundred gold per resurrection?” and in her face, the thought finally took hold and he watched her eyes widened as she followed this train of thought to its utterly mad logical conclusion. “You want to buy back the mortal lives of seven thousand spawn?”

When she said it like that, it put his present state into sharper perspective. He held a finger to his lips. Vovka might’ve stepped out, but that didn’t mean the hells weren’t monitoring them. “I don’t want to do anything,” he corrected her. “I’m not… entertaining notions,” he clarified, firmly. “I just wondered how much that would cost me, theoretically, and then I wondered, how much do I actually have on hand, in wealth and in assets?”

“And?” Isolde seemed genuinely interested. He’d really been anticipating a bit more realistic excoriation from her. As if reading his thoughts she added, “if it’s just a hypothetical, it doesn’t hurt to tell me what you’ve learned.”

His mouth twitched, almost a smile, but he couldn’t quite commit to it. He felt a strange ache in his chest as he looked at her, and he was afraid it might easily be because she was so hopeful. He knew better. His silly, passing thought of a plan was nothing at all. All the same, “if the books are to be believed than the amount of gold I would need to part with, is roughly equivalent to my entire estate at its present value.”

“Everything you own.”

“Precisely.”

She nodded and again, he saw that gravity in her that only came with growing hope, the kind that mortal fools cultivated. She wanted to believe that it meant something that the amounts were the same. All it really meant was that the fates had a sense of humor. Even if he could track down Withers and offer the deal, the shambling undead god wouldn’t accept it. 

“It was just a thought,” Astarion said again, discouraged anew by seeing her thinking through the same pointless theories that he’d mulled over the night before while she lay asleep in his arms.