#SOCKE! SOCKE DON'T GO OPENING PANDORA'S BOX

[petitexmagician]

Aether has a crush on you! { totally not from Socke c:< }

"I'M AWAKE!" She had to be, sure she fell asleep on a table. But that had to be it - she had to be dreaming to hear that. His focus was finding his sister, she'd help if he asked - so why did that stir some kind of hope if it was true..?

"...I..I gotta be dreaming if it's true.."

[ddarker-dreams]

Lock, what DO you love and like so much about Dostoevsky's work? I don't think you've ever talked about that. Please, I want to know !!!

^o^

(christianity mention jump scare below proceed with caution)

i thought this would be an easy to answer but figuring out how to put my feelings into words proved difficult .

the beginning is always a good place to start, so let's go with that. by chance, i happened upon this video on youtube and gave it a watch. about halfway in i decided i had to read notes from underground for myself. i struggled to understand what the narrator was trying to get across. the unique writing style, where the reader is addressed directly, as if in challenge, helped me preserve.

i think part of what makes his work special to me is his depiction of people. and they really do feel like people more than characters, even if some of their characteristics are unique to the era dostoevsky wrote in. everything else about them transcends time. i can see myself in some of them. whether it be the titular idiot, prince myshkin in his naivety; alyosha, who goes from devout to doubting; and ivan, whose bitterness toward religion masks his disappointment at the state of the world. 

that's why the brothers karamazov touched me in particular. for some context, i grew up in a christian household and was heavily involved in the church (american northeast white baptist strand of church). around when i was 11 or so, the introduction of left-wing politics through social media had me undergo a looooong identity crisis. these new ideas felt at odds with what i'd spent my entire life believing. what i grappled with the most relates to ivan's anecdote, the grand inquisitor, where the goodness of god is called into question. the bitterness, the disappointment from crushed expectations, all those sensations resonated strongly with me. reading it as an adult who (supposedly) 'healed' from that time period in my life was like opening pandora's box. i'd never seen my thoughts and struggles so accurately described, or treated with more than a 'his ways are higher than our ways' type platitude. i stuffed these concerns of mine away because they only ever served to make me feel worse.

i won't delve deep into the Depressing Lore. the only reason i mention it is to stress how profound an impact the work had on me. throughout the remainder of TBK (and in most of dostoevsky's discography), the best and worst of humanity is shown. our hypocritical nature, capacity for evil; nothing is shied away from or made more palatable. and yet, throughout it all, our potential for good is shown too. whether it be in the little acts or monumental self-sacrifice. sometimes those acts are honored, or ‘worth it,’ sometimes they aren’t. it’s cheesy but whatever i’ll say it — choosing to love and serve others is my greatest joy. i don’t really need a definitive answer to those problems i struggled with. that’s the takeaway i’ve had from his work. it might not seem like a big deal, but not feeling guilty for having certain doubts or anxious over those doubts never fully being resolved was. very significant for me. and healing (for real this time). 

so that’s the sentimental perspective GJSDLKFJS from my writer’s perspective, i can only describe him as brilliant. his grasp on the human psyche is incredible. he can accurately describe so many emotions, worldviews, and give the context necessary for each one to feel organic and real. it’s vivid, too, in a way i can’t properly get across. everyone’s unfiltered and messy. characters contradict themselves in the same sentence. they’ll murmur, go off on tangents, tell stories, misquote the bible (or many other significant works), and just be overall disasters. aka how people actually are. 

the man’s also funny as hell. the protagonist from crime and punishment has a mental breakdown spanning multiple pages over a sock. yes, there’s context, but that’s still the gist of things. then there’s the issue of the hedgehog in the idiot. hedgehog drama. 

ultimately, his work is so very human. there’s commentary on issues that are prevalent to this day, multiple centuries later. the topics he touches on tend to align with what i care about most. whether i agree or disagree with what i’m reading, there’s always something i glean from it. something meaningful that sits with me long after i close the book. i’ll mull over it and bother people in my vicinity until they mull over it too. no one is safe. whether it be a co-worker or my dad who drives noticeably faster to reach our destination and be free of my many questions.

i could keep going but this ended up being long enough GJSKDF i hope at least something here makes sense?>?? i apologize for the incoherent ramblings. it's what the dude does to me.

[sunset-a-story]

OC Questionnaire Tag Game

Thank you, @zinabug-writes for the tag! (Check out their post here!)

I'm going to answer for one Sunset character each who has spent time in each of the three organizations of knacked people: Reeve del Sol for SolCorp, Alyosha Shvedov for Entropy Games Inc, and Noah Walker for The Church. (Answers are for Vol 1 bc spoilers)

What do you always keep in your pockets?

Reeve, "Phone, keys, caffeine pills, and dextroamphetamine pills."

Alyosha, "My phone, wallet, and a good luck charm."

Noah, "A book of matches. I always have at least one book of matches on me. Preferably one in each pocket in case one side gets splashed with gore or, worse, petrol."

2. What does your bedroom look like?

Reeve, "I keep it tidy. I have a full bed (made), a desk and chair, and a bookcase that isn't honestly that full and I don't actually have that much time to read but I like how it looks. Right now the legs of the bed are set into glass jars and bowls because we have a bit of a scorpion problem."

Alyosha, "The bedroom in my trailer is pretty small but I keep it cozy with lots of blankets and pillows."

Noah, "I don't have one that I'd call mine. All the bedrooms in The Church are ours. I sleep where I fit. Sometimes that's on a couch or a cot or in a bed. Sometimes it's beside one of my brothers if the Sanctuary is crowded. The only constant is that I'll feel safe there."

3. What's your coffee order?

Reeve, "Vietnamese iced coffee if they have it. If they don't, extra sweet vanilla iced coffee."

Alyosha, "Tea with milk."

Noah, "Whatever that Sanctuary has stocked. That could be anything from very good espresso to instant powder so you just take what you can get."

I'll no pressure tag @thatndginger @pandoras-comment-box @revenantlore @chauceryfairytales @winterandwords and open tag

Your questions are:

Has anyone ever given you flowers?

Do your socks always match?

Who would you trust to choose a tattoo for you if you couldn't see it until afterwards?

[onyxmustdie]

It's midnight, I'm listening to 'Routines in the Night' by Twenty Øne Piløts and thought of this

"Don't think about it." The jackdaw writer muttered to himself, but he didn't put his phone down, continuing to scroll through his messages. "Just don't."

He kept going farther and farther back, reading through every conversation he'd had with Leon.

Why did he always do this? Seriously, what was the point? It wasn't as if there was anything of extreme importance in those messages. There were great memories in there, sure, but there were also bad ones.

For obvious reasons, he didn't like thinking about those.

Not about how he'd landed himself in the hospital and Aashvi Rose had been the only one of his emergency contacts to actually show up because his parents never answered the fucking phone—Leon had practically blown up his phone with text messages and calls, panicked, knowing there was nothing he could do because he was all the way in Spain—or how a few months before that, Leon had been the one in the hospital and Jack had been sick with worry, wracked with such severe anxiety that he nearly left work early, consequences be damned, his hands shaking too badly for him to even write, whether by hand, on a laptop or his typewriter, how he'd also blown up Leon's phone with texts pleading, 'Don't do this, please be alive, I'll do anything, please just answer me', or–

"Why do you do this to yourself?" He asked himself. Moonlight streamed through the half-closed curtains, pooling on his floor, illuminating the-

No.

"I hate thinking about this. About all of this." For God's sake, he had to stop this shit. He tangled his fingers in his hair, shutting his eyes. It wasn't doing him any good to sit here at his writing desk, ruminating, but he couldn't muster the energy to stand. Where were the jackdaws when he needed them?

They'd been radio silent after what happened. After he ended up in the hospital. Always watching, those damn birds, but unusually silent.

What the fuck had he done wrong?

"Christ, I'm sorry I nearly died. Is that it?" He recoiled at the bitterness of his own voice, shoving his chair back and storming out—if it could even be called that, he was wearing socks and those didn't make much noise—of the living room with a frustrated shout. "Fuck, I can't fucking do this anymore!"

Why did he put his writing desk in the living room, of all places?

No matter. Thank God his neighbors were on vacation. The flat didn't have thin walls, but the jackdaw writer discovered that the couple living next door had sharp ears. He probably would've gotten a knock on the door and a harsh scolding, despite the late hour, if they were around, but no, they were off somewhere in Mexico.

"Why the fuck am I in the kitchen?" It wasn't as if getting up would've helped. His whole flat was stained with memories of what happened, after all. If he didn't want to remember both his own and Leon's brushes with death, then he shouldn't have opened Pandora's Box and purposefully looked at those stupid fucking text messages! All of this could've been avoided had the jackdaw writer gone to sleep at a normal time, and it was such a ridiculous thing to get worked up over!

Yeah, he just needed to go to bed and pray he didn't dream about this, too.