#Tally is not my actual name but I do prefer it to my real one

[starlitangels]

The Anxious Dreamwalker!

@artbykays’s trend of drawing yourself in the Redactedverse continues with my tiny little I’m-a-writer-not-an-artist contribution!

Fun fact: that’s my favorite summer outfit and the shorts (covered in roses) are from the Men’s section at Walmart and the pockets are huge. I have two pairs of rose ones and one pair of pink lily ones

Yes my hair is that long but I’m 5’1” so the 30 inches probably look longer than they are. I also really need a trim lol. I wanted to draw myself curvier like I am irl but I don’t know how to do that yet. I’m teaching myself be patient

Shoutout to @zozo-01 for actually helping me figure out what I’d be!

This is Tally. She and her older sister were adopted from the same Freelancer biological mother into the same family, a Sonal Energetic/Freelancer couple. Her sister is a Freelancer and Tally found out her biological father is a Dreamwalker a few years before her own powers manifested. Tally’s sister’s father was unempowered.

She adores dream magic and has always had an overactive imagination that she vents into beautifully bizarre dreams. Defensive Dream Design was the obvious career path for her

Two weeks after receiving her Labyrinth Black certification she met a Fire Elemental (her mom’s coworker’s son) and they eventually got married. (She loves how warm he always is because she’s always cold)

Some alternative versions (aura, no facts writing, just me):

[eazy-peazy54]

"Welcome, babies. To the Fruity Pebbles Castle of Torment: a scary castle with 100 rats."

~~~

There comes a time once in every f-slur's life to make an intro post for this god forsaken hellsite.

Now is that time.

~~~

GREETINGS, TO EVERY FOOL WHO HAS MISTAKENLY STUMBLED UPON THIS TUMBLR PAGE!

(This is my sick ass and very cool intro post!!)

SOME MAY CALL ME A MAD SCIENTIST, OR A "RINGMASTER-TYPE," BUT MOST THINK OF ME AS SOME SORT OF WEIRDO WHO THINKS THAT BILL CIPHER IS "SO ME FR" AND TYPES LIKE THAT FOR FUNZIES IN HER INTRO POST SO SHE LOOKS COOL.

(The last one is true, I'm truly a nerd trying to impress you all so you stick around and like me. In all honesty I'm just a kid who wants to be both Bill Cipher and also a vampire. I wanna bring a real Will-Woodian vibe to your function [aka your dashboard.])

THIS BLOG IS ONLY A GLIMPSE INTO THE ENIGMA OF THE LONG AND VAST MAZE THAT SOME MAY CALL A "BRAIN." I PREFER TO CALL IT A MIND-HOLE.

MIND-FUCK, MIND-HOLE, SAME DIFF.

ANYWHO, ONWARDS!

🧪 ABOUT ME: ~ My name is Peazy ~ She/He/They ~ Bi ~ Minor ~ I PROBABLY HAVE AUTISM!! (we can tell) OR ADHD OR SOMETHING !! OR BOTH!! PROLLY BOTH!! 🫀 WHAT I DO: ~ I shitpost. A lot. Mostly, actually. But I am ALSO: ~ An artist! ~ Singer-Songwriter ~ Starting a band! (Mr. Amnesia and The Surrealists, check us out if we ever drop anything!) ~ Writer (of both real stories, and fanfiction!) ~ Creator of the Mary Bell Township ARG! (check out my TikTok and Youtube links if you're interested.. :3) 🐇 FUN FACTS: ~ Once again, I make music! ~ I'm making an ARG that I might make a sideblog for, so stay tuned! ~ I am allergic to gluten ~ I fuckin LOVE cats ~ I'm somehow Goth and Emo and Scene all at the same time?!?? ~ I play the pianooooo!

💫 CURRENT HYPERFIXATIONS: ~ Will Wood ~ LITWTC/Life in The World to Come ~ Gravity Falls ~ My own ARG ?? somehow ?? Don't ask, I don't know how this happened.

~ Moral Orel

🌊 FANDOMS: ~ Will Wood ~ LITWTC/Life in The World to Come ~ Gravity Falls ~ Smiling Friends ~ Captain Laserhawk: A Blood Dragon Remix ~ Portal ~ Once again, my own ARG somehow.

~ Moral Orel

~ Sonic The Hedgehog

~ Hatsune Miku/Vocaloid

~Undertale

~Deltarune

🎹 MUSIC I LISTEN TO: ~ this list is never gonna be EVERYTHING i listen to so bare with me

🎼 GENRES: ~ Goth ~ Emo ~ Vaporwave ~ Alternative ~ General "Weird Kid" music ~ Rap ~ Swing ~ "Indie" ~ Folk ~ Punk ~ Hyperpop ~ Basic white girl music that I will not admit as to specifics 🎶 ARTISTS: (in no particular order) (also this is NOT all of them) ~ Will Wood/Will Wood and the Tapeworms ~ Lemon Demon ~ Tally Hall ~ Oingo Boingo ~ DEVO ~ That Handsome Devil ~ Crystal Castles ~ Glass Animals ~ Man Man ~ Tyler, The Creator ~ Kendrick Lamar ~ Desert Sand Feels Warm At Night ~ Infinity Frequencies ~ POiSON GiRL FRiEND ~ Girls Rituals ~ Black Dresses ~ Jack Stauber ~ Mitski ~ She Wants Revenge ~ Joy Division ~ New Order ~ Joey Valence & Brae ~ Chappell Roan ~ Gorillaz ~ SOPHIE ~ Charli xcx ~ Kesha ~ MF DOOM ~ TV Girl ~ Ethel Cain ~ Lamp ~ Panchiko ~ Yaelokre ~ Radiohead ~ Billie Eilish

🕯️ AESTHETICS IM INTO: ~ Yes, this needed its own category. Hush hush. ~ Gothic (I'm goth don't come at me for putting it in the damn aesthetics) ~ Emo/Scene (SAME SHIT APPLIES AS THE LAST ONE) ~ Frutiger Aero (and anything relating) (<- I will yap about this for ages hold me back) ~ Frutiger Metro ~ Southern Gothic ~ New Wave ~ Utopian Scholastic ~ Vaporwave (IM AN OG PLEASE CHAT) ~ Weirdcore (NOT THE ONE YOU'RE THINKING) ~ 2000's/Y2k (once again NOT THE ONE YOU'RE THINKING) ~ Twee (oopsie daisy) ~ Whimsigoth

~ Halloween shit ~ General vibes of mad scientists and circuses ~ Whatever the fuck Will Wood has going on

🎪 OTHER INTERESTS: ~ Danny Gonzalez, Drew Gooden, Kurtis Conner ~ Flamingo ~ Making PLAYLISTS RRRAAAGH ~ Aesthetics (ask me about this shit I will yap for ages) ~ Liminal Spaces ~ Jfashion ~ Gyaru fashion ~ Other Subcultures ~ Everything creepy! ~ Song analyzation ~ Vampires ~ Circus stuff ~ Mad scientist stuff ~ HALLOWEEN ~ Playing piano! ~ YAPPING

🏷 TAGS TO LOOK OUT FOR: ~ #asks :3 - everything people yap to me in my inbox! ~ #fanfic shenanigans - I want you to take a WILD GUESS. ~ #peazy's yapping - general stuff, or long posts of me yapping ~ #long post - again, take a wild guess. ~ #reblog - like a normal reblog, but I said something in the tags! ~ #art reblog - same as the last one, but art I really liked and had something to say about! ~ #important - actual important things, like awareness posts and all that good jazz :) ~ #mutuals/#THATS OOMF 😭 - MUTUALLSSSS

~#mary bell township/#mary bell township arg - my arg! Arg content goes under both tags, but there’s usually more content under #mary bell township :)

🔎 OTHER SOCIALS: ~ TikTok ~ Instagram ~ Youtube ~ Ao3

🦇 DNI: ~ Jokes on you, there is none! Except... ~ Homophobes, transphobes, nazis, racists, terfs, radfems, pedos, proshippers ~ Blogs who solely post NSFW (a few suggestive things are fine! but if you're posting straight-up PORN or only nsfw and only smut, then no thank you brother) ~ Adding on to that, if you have a NSFW side blog, that's fine! ~ Also don't tag my posts as NSFW pretty please. I'm a minor, and if I'm talking about my mama, I mean my mother. ~ people who don't fw bagels /j ~ Either way, I block as I please!

PHEW, FINALLY THATS OVER WITH. BEEN MEANING TO MAKE ONE OF THESE FOR A WHILE NOW.

ANYWAY, I HOPE YOU ENJOYED LEARNING ABOUT ME, AND IF YOU READ THIS FAR..

thank you! :)

It means a lot!

NOW,

BEGONE.

[hyperfixations-ahoy]

The people (one person) have asked, so I shall provide: more Ivorren headcanons

You probably missed the mini Soren headcanon I posted right when my blog, so I’ll say it again: he doesn’t just name Endermen, he gives nicknames to everything

ex: “Ivor where’s Elizabeth?” “deep sigh Your notebook is on the kitchen table”

Building styles — Soren prefers style to practicality; Ivor focuses on function first and design after (he tries to add some style but it’s just lava or something equally bad)

Ivor LOVES gossip sessions. Like he’s not sure how it started but him, Petra, and Lukas spill all the tea

Similarly, he is also Ellegaard and Magnus’ relationship counselor, a job that never ends

”We’re breaking up!” And Ivor adds another tally to his list (they’ve said that hundreds of times)

They both missed a lot of ‘updates’ while in their respective seclusions, so they’ll constantly be like: what do you mean there’s a material stronger than diamond. what do you mean the warden is real. what is with these pink trees. what the fuck is a glow squid and why does it exist

Ivor is a Moobloom supporter, Soren knows he should hate the Glow Squid but just loves it too much to be angry

On a more serious note, they love each other’s voices. They’ll read out loud to each other, or Ivor will listen to the stupid little songs Soren comes up with (Gary may seem scary but he’s a swell guy 🔥🎶)

Living embodiments of the “we’re two halves of the same idiot” meme

Soren doesn’t think of himself as gay, or really anything in terms of sexuality (he’s been in the figurative and literal closet for years, “what is a pronoun and why are there so many”)

“Oh no, I’m not gay, I’m not interested in men except for this one here”

Meanwhile everyone except for Ivor himself knew which way the alchemist swung

Someone has definitely asked Ivor if he could make them testosterone/estrogen (insert whichever character you headcanon as trans here!)

They’re not married, because they don’t need to be. They don’t need a ceremony and a piece of paper to prove that they’re never leaving the other’s side again

I’m actually having so much fun with this, I would be happy doing more 👀👀

[muckablucka]

Introductory post.

Hello. I've finally decided to make an introductory post. I was actually considering writing one of these for a while, but never got to it, because I assumed no one really needed it. But, here I am, writing this anyway. Read if you like.

Very important post.

I will very much not be disclosing my real name on here, so I will give whoever may be reading this my preferred name, which is Atlas. Alternatively, I use the name Chimera. [Yes, I know that Chimera is the name of my OC.] I go by she/her pronouns, and that's basically all I have to say about myself that isn't anything like interests or hobbies. I do apologize for the overall shortness of this section.

My really close friend that is absolutely not me is user @periodic-table-fiend. We are simply very good friends, nothing more.

My primary interests include astronomy, ornithology, chemistry, literature, archery, microbiology, music, and art. I find myself also interested in marine biology and cryptozoology. I am very fond of sciences of all kinds, and I enjoy learning about various subjects. I will go feral if anyone shows that they are willing to listen to me ramble about science. Watch out. Also, if I provide false information in any of my scientific rants, please do correct me!

Some of my favorite books are Dracula by Bram Stoker, The Order of Time by Carlo Rovelli, Frankenstein by Mary Shelley, Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes, The Invention of Hugo Cabret by Brian Selznick, and The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson. Some works that I favor which don't quite fit into the above section are "The Cask of Amontillado," "The Black Cat," "The Raven," and "Annabel Lee," all by Edgar Allan Poe, "I'm Nobody! Who are you?" by Emily Dickinson, and "There Will Come Soft Rains" by Ray Bradbury. I also like What It's Like to Be a Bird by David Allen Sibley. What It's Like to Be a Bird is not a story, but rather a book filled with plentiful amounts of information about various kinds of birds, along with wonderful illustrations of them. I love that book! More short stories that I enjoy are "The Scarlet Ibis" by James Hurst and "The Paper Menagerie" by Ken Liu.

For musical interests, I take a liking to Tally Hall [and other side projects], Chonny Jash, Will Wood, Madilyn Mei, Rabbitology, The Scary Jokes, The Crane Wives, Penelope Scott, Stomach Book, and Marina.

My hobbies include: reading, playing the piano, sleeping, studying interests, drawing, sleeping, blabbering endlessly about science, and occasionally, playing video games. My favorite game of all time is Ōkami. Absolute masterpiece.

Other likes that don't fit into these categories include: the sun [Very much. I love the sun.], cold temperatures, winter, snow, corvids, the ticking of clocks, the sound of rain, memorizing oddly specific things, the smell of vanilla extract, stars, cumulonimbus clouds, the smell of fresh laundry, and the colors gray, blue, black, and white.

Things that I dislike include: excessive heat, summer [Which is ironic, considering that I love the sun.], crying [I despise crying. I am very aware that literally no one on this Earth likes crying, but I hate it especially.], and most toddlers [They scare me.]. I also hate the dark. Migraines are very much detested, too!

Misc.

My top three favorite planets are Pluto, Saturn, and Neptune. This has stayed the exact same since I was about 7 or 8, I believe? I am still upset that Pluto is not a planet. Half joking.

I tend to struggle detecting sarcasm. Tone tags are appreciated. Thank you!

I have a strange affinity towards things typically seen as bad omens, or things associated with bad luck. My favorite number is 13, and I absolutely love crows and ravens. I also take a liking towards black cats, and my two favorite cryptids [The Jersey Devil and Mothman] are both associated with misfortune.

My favorite songs change often, but right now, they are "Ruler of Everything" by Tally Hall, "Preybirds (Watcher Song)" by Rabbitology, "Chiltonwalk.Temp" by Graham Kartna, "Millie, Warm the Kettle (Dorm Demo)" by Rabbitology, "FOXCRY (Dorm Demo)" by Rabbitology, and "Scavenger On The Wind" by Mangy Bones.

I'd say that's practically it for this post. I very much appreciate it if you read this, so you have my thanks. Have a wonderful day, and goodbye.

[sourcreammachine]

anyway. while i were ailing with covid i ran the uk election results under proportional representation

i did single transferable vote with a form of automatic AMS on top, and the results are kinda eerily precise to a party’s share of the national vote

eerily similar numbers

but anyway, i used existing constituencies (bc that’s the easiest way of getting data and of doing it, so that’s why the map looks kinda ugly, it’s not bespoke) and grouped them together in groups of eight. i chose eight because wales’ total number of constituencies is a multiple of eight, and scotland only has one too many and england only has one too few. simple as. northern ireland gets three groups of six instead. proportional representation is so cool because if this were an fptp map, NI would be hilariously gerrymandered in favour of unionists, with nationalists packed in the west and cracked out of belfast. i had no real choice with belfast, every seat that surrounds the city proper is very orange. but it’s okay, because it all ends up proportional in the end

the constituencies on britain are in groups of eight, but each constituency sends only six members. the other two, one quarter of all members, pool upwards towards the regional AMS. i dealt with the extra member in scotland by making the Highland constituency span nine seats instead of eight (still sending six members), with scotland getting a bonus AMS member, and i dealt with the one-too-few members in england by making its least populous constituency, the unimaginatively named ‘Wightland’ (i couldn’t think of anything else), span seven seats and send five members. i could’ve solved this by having england annex berwickshire or something but that’s a horrible idea so no

it was actually kinda annoying to make them all groups of eight that made any sense. so that’s my excuse for any inexplicable decision, it has to be weird bc any other decision would’ve only made it weirder. this basically meant i couldn’t really edit it after a while without cascading consequences

so yes. 82 constituencies total. six (or five) members sent via the droop system, with no mandatory threshold. typically the first four or five candidates are elected in the first round, and only the sixth or fifth being assigned by transferring votes around

i didn’t use any data for what voters’ second preferences would be. i totally fudged it. sue me

the AMS-style seats are filled using the exact same ballot. their purpose is to restore the election to proportionality based on first-preferences, after the vote transfers may have caused the delegation to drift slightly from strict proportionality. all the votes are collected and we begin again from the top like nothing happened, then the parties that won STV seats are punished, being deducted the droop formula (for both STV and AMS seats) for every STV seat it won. if a party won STV seats on the basis of vote transfers this may cause its vote tally to reach all the way to zero and get them eliminated — such are the consequences for being overrepresented. now, of the remaining vote tallies, and only of the remaining vote tallies, a HARE tally is calculated and the single transferable election is run. these AMS seats are hare rather than droop, which has harsher tally deductions when a party wins a seat (being biased in favour of any nominally smaller party), because, as these seats only account for a quarter of all seats, and its a supplementary suite of members deliberately designed to be secondary to the STV members, i think its okay and fun to allow the smaller representation leeway in these seats. NI is the exception — its six-constituency seats send four STV members and two AMS members, up from a quarter to a third of all members. this, combined with the fact that it’s northern ireland, makes strict accuracy much more important, which is why NI’s AMS members remain droop rather than hare

using only one ballot, there’re two ways how the specific members elected on AMS could be assigned. either the parties could place all their regional candidates on a regional MegaList, or it could simply be a mathematical system where that party’s candidate that was carrying the most votes when they were eliminated gets elected. i prefer the latter myself

but anyway the results

the story of the night (in terms of voteshare) was the total barnstorm of the independent socialists. they’re now forming a party together, name pending. for this election in retrospect i grouped them all together as an electoral force, working title New Socialists. i defined an independent candidate in this group if they were: 1) on the Transform Party’s Official Left List, 2) endorsed by the DiEM, 3) endorsed by various other organisations such as The Muslim Vote, or 4) stood for peace and socialism against the WPB. altogether this bloc gets nine seats in this model, up from five irl. adam, khan and corbyn win their stv races while hussain and iqbal get through on ams. the four new members are leanne mohamad who fell ~500 votes short of defeating w*s streeting, ajmal masroor who fell ~1600 votes short of winning bethnal green, and faiza shaheen who successfully spoiled the election against the starmerite party when they deselected her, all three of whom are elected via stv, and azhar chohan of slough being elected on ams with the momentum of candidates from across the region

there are also four seats for the WPB, including for g*lloway himself, disgraced be his name. but they had plenty of candidates everywhere, meaning they did get the proportional votes

so the final results were

labour getting a cup more than half of the seats it got under fptp

this is of course with ‘first preferences’ not actually being people’s first preferences. under a transfer system people’s behaviour would change to be more likely to put the less-safe candidate first, with the stv seats going to agreeable candidates resulting from that and the ams seats returning representation to the little weirdos

with 323 for a majority labour would be 99 off. a labour-liberal minority coalition would sail 21 under, which could give the government a few wins on some things. probably el classico under this system would be traffic lights on 344, if it could hold

but anyway that’s what i’ve been up to while my nerves have been trying to escape my body wbu

[aintitfierce]

GET TO KNOW YOUR ADMIN !!

NAME -- masha

PRONOUNS -- she/her, but they/them or it/its could be nice. i won't kick up a fuss to he/him, either, but it does give me a brief pause

PREFERRED COMMS -- lies down probably IMs here, unfortunately. i have 'not getting out of this chair-itis' rip also my computer (not the laptop) is like 15 years old and dying a slow death so i can't open more than a single tab and maybe my pictures folder without everything slowing to the speed of molasses on a cold day

HOWEVER, i have gotten over myself a little bit and i do have an active discord now. so i've been thinking about moving some stuff there

NAME OF MUSE -- vanya, but he prefers pretty vanya or anything similarly Fawning. he has a noticeable, unexplained fondness for being referred to as the nondescript 'creature' as well

EXPERIENCE IN RP -- my first experience with RP was in the gaiaonline forums as a teenager lmAO. i used to scrounge around in the forums for any literary magical school-based RPs. then i kinda fell away from it once i left the site. i didn't pick it back up again until after i'd been on tumblr for a few months in 2013-2014 or so, stumbled into the kung fu panda fandom and made a friend who got me into RPing canon characters through skype ghfhiieo then i opened up an ask blog in june 2014 which very quickly morphed into just a RP blog instead and the rest is history

BEST EXPERIENCES -- back on gaia i joined a roleplay which was taking place in some school for people with super powers (i was in a lot of those as u might have guessed, they were my favorites lmao). me and one other person were the only ones awake and active at one point and it was just a rapid fire interaction between our muses for a couple pages, after which we laughed at The Shenanigans bc we were pretty sure our two characters had just become the comic relief of the entire thread and wondered how the other players were going to react when they inevitably came back

honestly i just remember it being a ton of fun. that style of RP is so incredibly foreign to me now, but nostalgic

PET PEEVES / DEALBREAKERS -- i had to take a long time to think about this, and i think the number one thing that gets to me is infomodding. i very much prefer having a running tally of what our muses each know about each other and more importantly what they Don't. i wrote with someone once who would occasionally consider what they knew about my muse to be fair game for their muse to know as well, without any reasoning for how they'd know this information or when they found it out

additionally, the only other thing i can think of that does get to me pretty badly is related to pacing. like i mention below, i like interactions that feel relatively real and natural, and sometimes that means letting the conversation unfold on its own and allowing awkward silences and lulls to play out to their conclusions. it drives me a little crazy when i'm just getting comfortable in a conversational thread but my writing partner is instead evidently feeling Bored with the small talk, so they inject some drama or some other bombshell to Liven It Up and get the action rolling orz usually has killed the thread for me in the past

MUSE PREFERENCE ( FLUFF, ANGST, SMUT ) -- out of these three probably angst, but i rarely RP it bc i don't feel that i'm very good at it. also idk how Seriously people could pretty vanya angst lmao

i've done so little actual RPing with him (my own fault, tbh) that i don't really know what my preference is with him yet. him being captured by big jack bc there were rumors about him being Powerful And Rare has probably been one of my favorite interactions so far. i admittedly do enjoy writing more antagonistic interactions more than i do friendlier ones

PLOT OR MEMES -- my Natural State is that of a pantser, to be completely honest, but there's a special place in my heart for plotted threads. i do enjoy laying out the basics and then letting it go with a check-in every now and again when one of us is running out juice or Unsure about anything

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES -- either or. i'm no good at one-liners, and i struggle with novella length (condensing my partner's response into something i can reply to while being careful to keep the story Moving takes a lot of brainpower for me). i do however love replies and threads and partners, perhaps, who are okay with letting some parts of the conversation Drop and potentially come back into play later. i like that sense of continuity, where it feels like a real or natural interaction two people might have with lulls in the conversation and callbacks

BEST TIME TO WRITE -- at this point i have no clue wheezes

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE? -- lord i hope not lmao

[nightmare-in-the-woods]

This is an OC thing I wrote so uh enjoy!! It’s fluff, with a suggestive line but it’s just meant to be a fluffy thingy! Enjoy this very much self indulgent thing!!! It's meant to be an OC x Oc thing but can be read as an OC x reader because it's from an OCs perspective and I never named the second oc!

Everything hurts, why does everything hurt? I was in bed, surrounded by soft things, nothing should hurt. Wait, was I sleeping on my back weird again, gods I hate it when I do that. 

“Time to wake up, love. We’ve got to get down to the next town if you wish to keep on your schedule.” I whine and cuddle into the warmth I’m being…held by? Who cares warm and feels like snuggles…. 

“Come on now, Love. I know you’re comfortable, but we have to get up. The others are waiting on us.” Wait what the fuckkkk that voice is real that strangely British and smooth voice is so real. I shoot up and stare, very confused, at the oh so attractive elfin man in front of me.

“What the…fuck?” I still sound like myself…so not everyone is weirdly British for New Orleans. “Wait who are you, where…are we what the actuall fuck…’ I mutter looking around extremely confused. The…oh so attractive elf just chuckles and smirks at me. 

“I see your memory has reset again dearest. I’m your boyfriend, Avión. You dearest-“ He’s getting out of the bed and holy shit abs. I stare at his stomach trying to fight the urge to bite him and add to the already numerous bite marks covering him already. I feel a hand tilt my chin up to meet his smirking expression. “You didn’t hear a thing I said, did you dearest?”

“Not at all…” I mumble, feeling suddenly like telling him the truth was the best option.

“Oh hells you really are just…” he pauses, taking a deep breath before pulling away and putting clothes on. Oh I’m naked too, and…covered in hickies… Well that would explain why everything is so sore.

“Get some clothes dearest, I’ll grab your journals so you can read what all has happened.” I nod at his words, grabbing a large white pirate remanicant shirt and some black pants. I leave the tent I woke up in, gods this is reminiscent of Baldur's Gate Three or a Dungeons and Dragons campaign. I look around confused and Avión waves me over to sit by the fire with him. I walk over and sit down and get handed a book, one filled with my handwriting.

This had happened before, according to the tally I’ve kept, about twenty or so times, everyone was used to it. 

I’m twenty three now? I was sixteen last I remembered…. I whimper and put the book down and just sit pondering what’s happening.

I was in New Orleans before, home, in my bed reading fanfic, and now I’m here with this group of British fantasy people. I’m the bard of the group? I’m so confused. At least this world is beautiful, and having a stupid hot boyfriend (?) doesn’t make it absolutely terrible.

 I’m not alone, that’s comforting, past me wrote a lot about them all. Most of the book is about Avión, how kind he is, how comforting, some notes about his likes and dislikes, and a good page’s worth of information about the parties’ dietary restrictions and preferences. 

I really care, cared? Doesn’t matter, I clearly hold them dear and close to my heart. This feels weird, fuzzy, warm, yet heavy. I look around at the smiling faces of people I wrote about as friends and called “My dearest companions.” This world feels weird, I can feel something akin to oil with glitter in it thrumming in my veins, prickling at my soul, pulling me to sing or burn something. 

I put the book down and stand, pacing to get rid of the feeling of glitter in my veins and soul. It didn’t help. Avión comes over and grabs my hands.

“Dearest can you say this for me?” he asked softly, handing me a scroll with a phrase on it. I mumble the phrase and he smiles as my hands glow yellow. The yellow spreads to him before fading and he smiles at me before letting me sit alone again. 

He knows me so well, doesn’t he… Twenty one times, this is my…our twenty first time dealing with a memory reset. I still find it weird that I’m the only one not British, but it’s fine. This world is warm, I’m cared for by this odd group of people, and the me that wrote this was very happy. I’ll get used to this world again, I hope so at least. I’ve done it twenty times before. I add the twenty-first tally to the back of the book and give it back to Avión before sitting next to him as he stares into the fire in front of us. 

“So…we love each other?”

“That would be correct, dearest.” I shyly take his hand and he rubs my knuckles comfortingly. “It’ll be okay, lovely. You’ve forgotten before, you’ll remember soon.”

“Okay.” I mumble softly and smile weakly at him. I really do hope it all turns out okay.

[anthonybialy]

Buffalo Bills Put Night Practice to Good Use

I don’t have anything to complain about.  This sucks.  The Buffalo Bills had to keep playing even though it was over before halftime.  There’s never been a better reason to feel uneasy about the startling lack of negatives.

I’m sure I can find things that went wrong.  Let’s see: Buffalo lost the third quarter while only scoring a field goal while squandering a precious timeout.  And there was a second drive that only ended with a meager three points, which is simply unacceptable.  The Bills didn’t win a World Series or an Oscar.  On top of that, the CBS simulcast pre-empted NCIS.  Man, that is one lousy night.

But I guess a few things went well in a 37-point win.  It takes three to form a trend, which means the Bills have enough performances to establish that they’re capable of full efforts against opponents of varying impressiveness.  Jacksonville didn’t help with anything resembling a challenge, so at least the game’s course reflected which half of competitors deserved a nationwide broadcast.

Winning without learning much is a byproduct of facing the other regrettable 1995 expansion franchise besides Carolina.  And even the Panthers found someone in sadder shape this week.  The next trio of games offer a more grueling trial of road outings against legitimate playoff aspirants beginning with Josh Allen’s MVP nemesis.  Buffalo did the most with the opportunity by crushing both the Jaguars and lousy bettors who were certain they spotted a trap game.

A season provides so few examples that an overwhelming win becomes a huge part of the definition.  By the time you’ve characterized a team, they’re pretty deep into a the schedule.  And by then, they might be altering their behavior to keep pace.  At least, the sharp ones are.  Innovators doing fascinating things are already moving to their next visionary idea by the time others catch up.  David Bowie would’ve been a good coordinator.

The adversary will realize which side the bullfighter prefers.  After losing their first two games by a total of eight points, the Jaguars encountered a club that responded angrily with horns.

Let’s make this easier: who didn’t get the ball?  Allen completed to 73 different receivers.  Hold on: let me verify my memory.  There were actually 10, which still sounds made up.  I shouldn’t have exaggerated, as the real tally is still comically high.  I hope you forgive me.

Now that I’ve learned my lesson, I’ll dedicate myself to penance by lauding the catching committee.  It’s easy to defend receivers that are tough to defend.  Who’ll be the biggest deal next?   Guessers may as well play the lottery, as the chances of describing the future accurately is about as tricky.  Ask who’ll lead in yardage for a Predict the Bills question that every participant would get wrong.

Khalil Shakir needs Emergen-C because he catches anything.  He’s emerged as the A option in a Borg-like collective of players.  And a baffled Jacksonville defense provided the perfect opportunity for Keon Coleman to really get going.  

The next target winner isn’t predetermined.  Joe Brady emphasizes responding to conditions, namely those initiated by the defense.  There is no longer shoehorning in appeasement’s name.

Breaking up with Josh’s erstwhile BFF was a painfully necessary step.  At this point last season, the offense revolved around someone who was the first option even if he wasn’t open.

Enjoy a game plan based around making sure the chief drama queen doesn’t throw a hissy fit mid-route.  The top star rotates every game then every play.  Who knows?  The players aren’t even aware, which is maddening for other defensive coordinators.  Rotating targets is like having actors go through a couple scenes so there are no spoilers leaked about a finale.

Wings always did Paul McCartney’s songs.  Homer was right that he was the most talented one just like Stefon Diggs filled the same role in Buffalo.  The Bills claiming they’ve improved without their best wideout sounds like praising Pyongyang because there’s not much traffic.  But they’re all working together to move the ball on a randomized rotation.

The Bills predicted what was coming, maybe.  Brandon Beane could have anticipated that this offense would be better served without a potential Hall of Famer just like Darcy Regier could claim he assembled an undersized roster in anticipation that the league was finally about to limit interference.  They each got players who thrived whether they saw how the world would unfold or lucked into it.

You don’t need to script inspirational plays when Trevor Lawrence throws to the safety.  Helping tell the Damar Hamlin story is the fading quarterback’s gift to the narrative.  The worst throw in a game packed with them will be a key scene in Hallmark’s first football movie.  As another quarterback who makes more than Josh, his laid-back bro style is actively bothersome in passivity.

The Bills are a prime time team.  A schedule that’s as varied as the game plan keeps everyone alert.  Fans should feel thrilled at unpredictability, whether in who’s going to be that outing’s primary threat to enemy quarterbacks or playing on a novel day and time.  A Sunday morning routine that leaves partakers ready seven hours early is going to be closer to normal.

It’s tough to extract lessons from a game that became only technically a competition.  The Bills are aware that upcoming foes are unlikely to stubbornly remain in a man-to-man defense that Josh could’ve called himself.  But all they can do is deal with who’s scheduled.  Being on the right side of a game where neither starting quarterback finishes is the most they could’ve gotten out a preseason game that counts.

[devilish-parrot]

im not giving my real name but you can call me either Karl, Ryan or Oris

he/they. i dont usually have a preference. u can switch it up from one sentance to another or in the same sentance if u want, as long as you use them both

libra

1 brother. fun fact abt him; hes rlly good with lego

i dont have any pets any more. when i was like 5 i had 2 clownfish named nemo. then when i was 8 i had a rabbit named bunny but she died

my fandoms are in my pinned post. i really like tally hall and twomp atm, im really hyperfixated on them both. like ALOT

fav colours are black, blue and green. in that order

i cant choose a one favourite song so ill name a few i really like (they're all tally hall though because i havent been able to listen to anything els for weeks). The whole world and you, Welcome to tally hall, Taken for a ride, greener, You, Good day, Haiku, and The bidding

i dont have a favourite author so ill jusy tell u my favourite book: animal farm (highly recomend)

hobbies include reading, drawing, listening to music

i dont read fanfics

halloween

no partners, am single 😔 but i was doing my start of the year tarot reading recently (12 cards, one per month) and my brother was watching over, making his own skewed interpretations of the cards. he thinks im gonna get a boyfriend this month, then break up with him after he cheats on me, then ill spend my next four months plotting my revenge which ultimatly ends me up in jail... im pretty sure the card was actually reffering to me finishing my tally hall blog (more info on that below). if youre wondering, the card was xxi the world, drawn upright

ive spent the past 3 days working on a tally hall daily blog. im very proud of it but im nowhere near done. ive only gotten through 2 internet show episodes but already have posts queued up untill may. im really excited about this!!

tags (i wont tag mutuals that worm-brainzz already tagged) @confusedsnowpatch @ailill-everytime @jellyfish-fingernail @mikka-minns @milofonn @zaychik45510 @wielderofthechainsaw @thatfrogperson @theseusthetransratking @mysticlilac-ec @alex-is-a-simp-73 @felt-squirrels no pressure, u dont have to answer all the questions or any at all

I got bored so here's a little get-to-know-you tag game I think could be fun :3

Name(s)

Pronouns

Star sign

# of siblings & fun facts about them (if you have any)

# of pets & their names

Fandoms

Favorite color

Favorite song

Favorite author (of anything readable-- books, fanfics, zines, webtoons, whatever!)

Hobbies

Favorite fic type

Favorite holiday

Do you have any partner(s)? (romantic, qpp, anything!)

Fun facts about you / anything extra you wanna share!

────────

Name(s): Loki (highly preferred), Elye

Pronouns : they/them mostly, he/she okay too

Star sign: Pisces

# of siblings: I've got 2! An older sister and a younger sibling. The fun fact about them is that they're also both queer; in fact, my mom is too. The only non-queer person in my immediate family is my dad.

# of pets: 4 cats! Phoebe & Frankie are our girls, Lenny and Murray are our boys :3

Fandoms: MCU (kind of), BSD, OFMD, Ranboo (does his fanbase count as a fandom?)

Fav. color: Don't have one

Fav. song: Aurora Borealis by Lemon Demon

Fav. author: Alice Oseman

Hobbies: singing, acting, drawing, writing, procrastinating

Fav. fic type: Fluff, definitely. I am a sucker for well written coffee-shop and flower-shop aus, too. Smut's fine, but only if it's romantic. I can't do angst if there's no comfort.

Fav. Holiday: Hanukkah or Halloween! I love autumn and winter

Partners?: Yes! I have a girlfriend (queerplatonic) who I love very much, and a boyfriend (romantic) who I love very much :]

Fun facts:

- Even though I'm a cat person, I really, really want a dog.

- I actually used to play sports. Because I don't do gendered leagues anymore, I don't play, but I've been looking for mixed/gender-neutral/queer sports teams. Baseball and basketball specifically!

- I started questioning my identity in 2019; I'm no closer to finding a label now than I was then. The difference is, now I don't want a label. I just am. :]

tags: @neonganymede @cha0ticlesbian @x-chiara @exceleo @brinnybee @autistic-katara @gandalfthemorallygrey @ohboyanotherlokiblog @roachandrenfri @ourflagmeanslokius @exceleo @edettethegreat @swiftlyspidey

[tallyanimatez]

Hello Tally!!

So,, feathers AU Jade Leech, or rather the whole octavinelle trio

Since MC’s essentially sabotaging racers to ensure Grim’s win, I wanna see how their interactions go down with the trio, considering how shady they are in the canonical story :D

Does Azul know of the fowl (pun intended) play going on behind the scenes? Does he do anything to stop it, or make it benefit him as well? Are Crowley and Azul competing with each other in this aspect? Very intriguing, would like to know

Have a great day/night :D

... *puts down telephone* This is going to be a long one

So just like everyone the octo trio doesn't know who the culprit is either, but he does know that Crowley is involved in this sabotaging race incident, he just doesn't have the evidences to prove it and is working to prove it, although the culprit seems to be pointing at you the more he tries to deny it...

Not every doors are ment to be opened, just like how every secrets are ment to be kept

A mushroom encyclopedia, a hugging killing machine, and a shady takoyaki.

Never get their interest they say

Be careful of what you wish for they say

Don't try fiddling with their secrets they say

Even if somethings might not be true to the targeted people, it's always better to be safe than sorry. A fake trap can still be a trap if use correctly, so any information you grasp, whether real or fake, could always come in use if you know how to play your chess.

You've heard more or less from the Octavinelle team, and alot about their shady business. They say that they're capable of making everyone's wish come true if they can uphold the cost, in which...not all were able to uphold it and become a fool of themselves, pathetic really... but you don't want to join that gang, you're already a fool as if you are right now.

So don't screw it up, your name does not exist in this world as people don't care about it, create a reputation that even you can't disperse, then everything will be over.

You've never met the head of the team neither the twins that follows them, and you prefer it that way as your actual status is being wanted by every Great Sevens whether were they your victims or not.

You have met someone similar to the Octavinelle head's description, a man with light grey wavy hair, with one long lock who surprisingly- can't fly very well despite claiming to be a racer, you find it funny seeing him struggle to even move 1 inch above ground. Then there's twin who looks very identical, one who has manners and rambles like a mushroom encyclopedia, the other is a big hugging killing machine you'd like to refer to since his grip could break your bones if you're not paying attention.

The shady business takoyaki, you like to call him that, once rambled about a sabotager in alot of races which made you jolted a little. He might have caught on that small reaction of yours, cause now he seems interested to pry in every aspects of your personal life, the twins-well the less mannered one seems to cling on you even more while the other one watches intentively...

If the attention is too much, you can always cut ties with them, break every connection and throw it into the abyss, nobody will be able to repair something that's destroyed to the dust, neither be attentive enough to find all the pieces together

It's been a few months since you've last seen them for your sake. A few months of erasing your trails, your existences from this world again.

------------------------------

Authors note: This draft has been sitting in my inbox for quite a while, I didn't have the full brain power to write anymore and I personally like it to be a cliffhanger :D

Anyways have a good day/night!

[n1kolaiz]

"You want to know what death is? I'll tell you. Death is the loss of life. Despite everything doctors like me attempt... a patient's life can still fall through our fingers. You think death lies in the apex of science? Anyone with such little regard for life will die by my hand."

Character Analysis: Yosano Akiko

Age: 25 || Ability: Thou Shalt Not Die

BSD CHAPTER CHAPTER 65-66 SPOILERS

table of contents:

1. Author counterpart.

2. Yosano's history.

3. 'Angel of Death' defined.

4. Yosano and Atsushi.

YOSANO BRAINROT!*(#&!*@#($

1. Author counterpart.

Having been given the “Sho Ho” at birth, Yosano Akiko’s counterpart—the real-life author—was known for her zealous take on both feminism and pacifism.

Side note: Once again, to avoid confusion, I will use the name Sho Ho in reference to the real-life author, and Yosano in reference to the BSD character.

Sho Ho's writings were pretty much out-of-the-ordinary in her time, and despite being suppressed by the social norms of gender hierarchy, she sought to reform society’s view on the cultural perspectives of women and their sexuality (She expressed her love for a woman in one of her poems, but many still argued on whether she identified herself as queer or not.)

"Thou Shalt Not Die," Yosano's ability, is actually named after one of Sho Ho's most famous, controversial poems. She wrote it for her brother, who was a soldier in the war between Russia and Japan (1904-1905). In her poem, she expressed her general distaste for war and how her brother was a part of it.

O my young brother, I cry for you Don't you understand you must not die! You who were born the last of all Command a special store of parents' love

Would parents place a blade in children's hands

Teaching them to murder other men Teaching them to kill and then to die? Have you so learned and grown to twenty-four?

- excerpt from Sho Ho's poem, "Kimi Shinitamou Koto Nakare"

Her words were blunt enough to inflict guilt on her brother's conscience, as she wasn't afraid to express her disapproval over how her brother took part in the typical violent bloodshed and manslaughter of war. Such opinions perturbed the authorities, and her work was eventually banned from the public for a period of time. Later on, it was used as an anti-war statement.

2. Yosano's history.

Now, as for the character in BSD, Yosano is seen to be generally strong-willed, and later on, we see that she is terrifyingly compassionately ambitious in the way she treats her patients. She treasured life itself, and hated the thought of losing a patient.

Yosano had developed her relations with Mori Ougai back in the Great War, when she was just 11 years old. Her ability was a great benefactor in saving lives. Realistically speaking, she was used for her ability to heal injured soldiers and diminish the effect of any casualty acquired.

Initially, she wasn't aware of this, until one of her close friends pointed it out by subtly accusing Mori of manipulating her to participate in the War under the close-to false pretence of 'saving lives.'

As much as her ability did save lives, it also forced soldiers to return to the frontlines and suffer injuries over and over again. The soldiers were never given the opportunity to return to their families because of her ability. This obliged them to carry on in the war without any excuse, inserting them into a vicious cycle they had no escape out of.

Metaphorically speaking, Yosano's hatred for Mori sort of mirrors Sho Ho's disdain for war and fighting, don't you think? The way Kafka materialised Yosano's past was quite interesting because he used chapters 65 and 66 to explain Yosano's dislike for Mori, reflecting how Sho Ho used her poem to explain why she condemned the idea of war and how her brother was part of it.

Before the effect of her ability was fully understood, however, every soldier praised and thanked her for what an angel she was. One of the soldiers she had befriended and gotten close to even kept a tally of the number of times she had saved him. He was the one who gifted her the butterfly hairpin she wore all the time.

The weight of the truth that her ability was a curse rather than a blessing fully dawned on her when her soldier friend ultimately committed suicide, because the fact of being indefinitely trapped in the throes of war agonised him until his spirit gave out. This drove Yosano to loathe her ability, or rather, how it was used.

In the time she participated in the War, Yosano was given the alias 'angel of death' due to the control she retained over the battlefield, but I thought that perhaps Kafka had a reason behind giving her this title, so I did my research.

3. 'Angel of Death' defined.

Side note: I wouldn't want to disrespect any culture or religion, so if my citations are inaccurate and/or disrespectful, do feel free to correct me/let me know! I did research out of pure curiosity, and I don't intend to twist the significance of any of the interpretations.

I had to grow up learning about the basics of religious stuff, so it's kind of nice to study something out of the box, and very much against my father's rigid belief system :D

ARCHANGEL ARIEL

(archangel: an angel of higher rank)

I came across the few characteristics of angels/goddesses and their roles, and the one which really caught my attention was the female archangel, Ariel, the angel of nature.

[ source ]

In Hebrew, the name Ariel means 'altar' or 'lioness of God,' and her role is to heal. In addition to that, she is also recognised as a helper to another one of the seven main archangels, Raphael, whose role is to provide physical and emotional healing, too.

She is the protecter of the environment and the animals therein, and is bestowed with the duty to oversee the order of heavenly bodies as well as earth's natural resources. She assures the sustenance of food, water, shelter, and supplies of human beings, much like how a nurse is to a patient I suppose.

In relation to Yosano, I think this part is pretty self-explanatory, or perhaps this is blown out of proportion HA, so take this as a suggestion rather than a fact, because I'd like to believe that Kafka had a reason for giving Yosano a title as such.

In the past, I've come across the angel of death only to perceive it as a female grim reaper of some sort, so it was pretty cool to find that the word 'angel' and 'death' made up a title of a someone like Ariel, one of the purest forms of humility and compassion.

GREEK GODDESS PANAKEIA

For my beloved (wannabe/or not) students of Greek mythology (much like myself, let's make a cult!), you've probably heard of Panakeia, the goddess of healing. Medicine finds most of its vital significance in Greek history, and in its mythology, Panakeia is actually known for her ability to heal any kind of sickness.

[ source ]

Her name means 'panacea,' which is actually defined as a remedy for all diseases. Terminal diseases and injuries lead to death, right? This would bring us back to Yosano's ability to nullify any injury's effects on a person, keeping them from death itself.

Now, we know that in order for Yosano's ability to work, her patient, or victim, has to be in a near-death condition in order for her treatment to take effect. This can't exactly fit into the description of resurrection, but it can be described as some sort of rebirth.

GREEK GODDESS PERSEPHONE

So another goddess which reminds me of Sho Ho/Yosano, is Persephone, the goddess of spring and rebirth. Before Hades, the god of the underworld, fell in love with Persephone to take her to live with him, Persephone lived a happy life.

Hades, with his nature of darkness and the like, was captivated by how pure Persephone was, and stole her away from her former life to live in an environment which differed sharply from her natural aura of purity.

[ source ]

Remember when Yosano's friend left a note behind before he killed himself? The note said nothing except for, "You are too righteous." Take that as you will, but figuratively speaking, you could say Mori takes the role of Hades in the story, while Yosano can be portrayed as Persephone.

Sho Ho can also be a parallel of Persephone, in that she had to adapt to the realities of war and disharmony, while Persephone had to adapt to the raw darkness of the underworld with Hades.

Sho Ho stood against society's norms and decided to reform it, making her one of the most well-known feministic pacifist in history, while Persephone managed to escape from the underworld to return to her former position, earning the title the 'Bringer of Life,' or the 'Destroyer of Death.'

Furthermore, the way Sho Ho's anti-war poem took its effect later on, reflects the way Persephone restored balance in the world after returning from the underworld.

4. Yosano and Atsushi.

chapter 66; Yosano: "It's my fault that those close to me died... Is there some place where it's okay for me to live?"

chapter 8; Atsushi: "If I have any chance of saving them all, of returning them home safely, would that mean it's okay for me to keep on living?"

I couldn't help but think of Dazai and Atsushi back when I was reading through these panels. Ranpo (my beloved), along with Fukuzawa, accepted Yosano as she was, despite how her ability was a cause of despair and misfortune.

Ranpo looked past her mistakes and the entirety of how dark her past was to welcome her into the Armed Detective Agency. Dazai, on the other hand, knew who Atsushi was and what his ability had made him do before anyone else, and still decided to provide a safe place for Atsushi to find his sense of belonging, journeying with him as he learned to use his ability properly.

For more info about Dazai and Atsushi's dynamic, you can check out the analysis I did for Dazai :D

Atsushi desired to save people to prove his right to live, while Yosano made her wish to achieve the recovery of all her patients the reason for her existence.

Others would prefer to accuse both Yosano and Atsushi of having a saviour complex, but the reason why they pursued to save people with utmost dedication, stems from the nature of what their past was like. You know the saying 'from broken to beautiful?' Yeah, it's something like that.

The way their pasts were written out gave them a desire to change, which was, I daresay, initiated by the people who took them in: Ranpo and Dazai. Their abilities were demonised because of how they were used, but once they broke from their abilities' effect over their lives, they honed their skills to control them for the right cause instead.

In a less cynical point of view, I believe both Yosano and Atsushi stood for what was right, and wanted nothing but to achieve peace and harmony in whatever way they could, even if it meant risking their own lives to save others.

So yeah, that's it for my rants today. Thank you for reading, and if you have anything to add, go ahead! I'm open to discussions ;)

[simonalkenmayer]

Alright. Let’s go over this again.

This is a study. I am studying a few different things. Some have overlap and some don’t. No, I am not datafarming. I don’t care about your personal data. So let’s talk about what is included in my research.

Included in my research:

All comments on my posts. All asks sent to me. All public information regarding any supposed “beef” with me. All blog posts about me that I can find by sending my bot over the internet to find my name, or the many variations you’ve all crafted. All survey information. DM conversations with me about your life or your difficulties or your personal data are NOT part of my study. I do not record this information in any way. I do however make a note, if people disclose personal information to me, as it pertains to my research. It’s just a tick on a tally. That’s all). I use IP data, it’s true, but this is how it is used: I look at it to determine if one IP address is linked to multiple asks sent anonymously. I label these IP addresses. Whenever they ping my page again, I receive an email with the date and time and the pages visited. I record that information. This allows me to determine when someone is using the tumblr anon feature to pretend to be a group of people, to ask questions that are disingenuous, to visit my page over the blocking function, and so forth. These IP do list general location, it is true, but that is actually how they are labeled, no name or address associated. For example: let’s say I see an IP ping my ask box ten times in the same day, but the only asks I’ve gotten are a mix of kind and offensive, some with intended syntax and diction changes to obscure identity. I tag that IP as “Anon bully date/time” and set an alert. The next time they return, they have a different IP, because, let’s say they’re at work. It will still alert me that this is the same region, and same device and so, I will look at the region, and I will change the tag to say “New South Wales Anon 1” or “Austin Texas Anon 2b?” Or some other variation. Other than that? I don’t care. Certain repeat offenders whose names I know, are tagged by their usernames. That way I can see precisely when they return, which pages or links they visit, how often, and can then correlate that with the posts they make on their respective sites, and what they choose to say.

No personal data is ever recorded. If I know your real name, I do not use it. I use only handles and whatever bio you have made publicly available. All surveys are anonymous. The program that controls them knows if multiple surveys come from the same IP, but it does not disclose those IP. I do not read them to figure out who sent what, because that’s immaterial to me.

Does that help you comprehend how I do what I do? If you’d like to see an example of my labeling system, I will be happy to show you, the next time one of the usual suspects comes here, and reads this particular post. I will, of course, scrub it of the sort of data I think might be harmful, but it will give you an idea of what I keep, and how it looks to me when I get it.

I hope that you understand that what I am here doing, is neither prohibited by law, nor ethics. In fact, it’s what Tumblr is doing to you every day, and worse. It’s how your ads are targeted by region and your internet history. It’s how Facebook knows what videos to send you. How tiktok knows your preferred pronouns. They’re doing it to harvest your lives, repackage them, and sell them back to you. I have no such interest.

I hope you now comprehend what I am doing, and you understand why I have been so befuddled when people write whole tracts about why I am actually some…oh I don’t know…some sort of con artist out for money. This experiment has been costing me money since day one. Only recently, with the introduction of the Patreon, has it even begun to approach evening out.

Perhaps you’d like a financial breakdown as well? Hmm let’s see.

Financials:

Websites per year (current cost): $160

IP tracker, $90

Paying staff to go through all of this? (This will be by the year, for this one project’s hours only) $15,000 over the last two years

Memberships/software packages $200 yearly

Hiring an editor and paying for formatting assistance for books (by book) $5k

Art for covers and contests and websites (total over the entire decade) $5500

Negative effects on my time based on dollar value of what I charge for an hour of my consultation, for the last five years: let’s say 3 hours per day, for five years (that is conservative and my rates have changed over time) $330,000

An investment from an interested party in my conclusions: $10k

Amount of money made on sales of books, merchandise (that was requested by the gentle readers) patreon for the last ten years total: less than $15k so less than $1500 per year (let’s not forget this income is taxed and %15 went to my agent,). The largest quarterly royalty payment ever received, was when the book first debuted on Tapas, and remained a best seller for several quarters (remember it was possible to coin farm, and the vast majority of people read for free, so revenue came from advertisers and engagement): $670. My last monthly royalty statement, from smashwords, based on the donations made by those who put money down for the ebooks rather than download them for free: $24

I hope you can do the math on this and see that I have lost money on this study. It has been of zero financial use to me. So far. It may prove that at some point down the road, I can use the experience of it to offer social media companies a comprehensive idea of how to keep people safer online, or perhaps I will be able to help manage a company’s internet persona to assist them in being social proactive rather than a drain on society. But for now, it’s just data, and it’s just for my intellectual interest.

I hope this helps you as you contemplate your participation.

[dirkjakeweekly]

DIRKJAKE FIC RECS

This is a rebloggeable version of our sidebar page reproduced in full, for those who prefer to save things on their own blogs for later!

INTRO

This page is not intended to be an encyclopedia, but rather a non-exhaustive list of a few Dirkjake Fanfics (and Fancomics) for those that may be interested in the ship, but a little too tired of trawling through AO3 search! Some of these contain NSFW or suggestive content, viewer discretion is advised.

[ FIC RECS (last updated Jan 2021, click readmore for full list) ]

It’s only a canvas sky

Their guardians dead at the hands of the Condesce, growing up in the shadow of her slow takeover of the Skaian Federation, Dirk Strider and Jake English have spent their whole lives alone up until shortly before their twelfth birthdays.

Or: Dirk fixes a transmitter, makes a friend, builds a robot, and tries to communicate affection over distance to the barest possible minimum.

Read here!

GOD’S BRAND NEW FATE SELECTOR (Fancomics)

In ONE PARTICULAR TIMELINE, detached from many similar ones, an aspiring divorcee stands by his baby’s cradle and attempts to hatch an escape plan with some aid from the ghost of his long-deceased boyfriend. He’s not exactly helpful.

SOMEWHERE ELSE ENTIRELY, Dirk Strider is overcame by the nagging feeling his splinters may be getting a little out of hand and far too into his head, when he gets a booty call.

One timeline is Epilogues-Compliant, another Epilogues-Divergent. 

Read here!

We’re All Friends & Family Here (And Frankly, We’re Sick Of Your Shit)

It’s been about a year since the big Fast Forward, and sure, things on Earth C aren’t perfect for everyone. But they’re fine. Really. It’s fine. Everything is super fuckin’ swell, and that’s that.

It’s not like one night is going to change anything.

Read here!

Perpetuity

“Call it a car crash waiting to happen, you’ll just call it your downfall”

Dirk is a romantic, just not a particularly optimistic one.

(Written pre-epilogues release, post-game, fix-it)

Read here!

Tailspinning Into the Epilogues with Dirk and Jake (complete series)

Read here!

Stark Nonfiction (Part of the Tailspinning series)

Jake tries his hand at a gentler epilogue.

Read here!

Between the Lines (Part of the Tailspinning series)

“It’s just… I can’t remember the last time I felt so at peace, I guess. It was such a lovely jaunt with Jade, and instead of being all torn up about coming home, I feel even better, now. It’s actually been a real while and a half since I felt… bad, you know? Like actually bad.”

You don’t have much in the way of emotional permanence about that sort of thing. Surely it was months ago, when you were staring gloomily at the bottoms of bottles like the world’s most up-his-own-ass useless overdramatic dilettante. Did it even really happen, if it all, in hindsight, just seems like a dumb pantomime of misery to get attention? A successful dumb pantomime of misery to get attention, mind you, you definitely got it, and a boyfriend to boot. Was it ever really as atrocious and apocalyptic and unsurvivable as it seemed?

Read here!

A Palate Cleanser (Part of the Tailspinning series)

ROXY: hay everybody its jakes turn! ROXY: hes got a few words hed like to say about our dear departed buddy

The eulogy we missed on Candy’s page 15.

Read here!

Eschewal

“you hope he’s a benevolent god”

Read here!

Grublr. (Fancomic)

In the consort kingdom, atop of the large, humongous mansion where the god of Hope lives, there is an apartment complex.

Read here!

The Hitchhikers Guide to Your Ex-Boyfriend (Fancomic)

Jake English waking up sore and alone on a cold floor is not a strange occurrence for him as of late. The ethereal beam of light and sluggishly churning floor is new, but he’s woken up in stranger places.

If circumstances were better he’d probably have something shocked and relevant to say about this strange landscape he’s found himself in, but circumstances are in fact legendarily shit right now.

(A comic/fic where Jake English gets rights)

Read here!

The Four Kings, the God Thief, and the Black Diamond Pirates

Dirk and Vriska have it good. They raid ships, pillage merchant vessels, constantly poison each other, possess a lucrative pact with the Wind King, sing a lot of dope fuckin’ sea shanties, and captain a loveable crew of pirate scum. They’re ready to kick back, take it easy, and become the vile and revered scourge of the diamond trading line.

Then they find someone in the water.

Read here!

Sea shanties for Thots (Four Kings continuation)

Jake English has never done anything wrong, ever, in his life, if you don’t count literally all that stuff from the first installment of oxfordRoulette’s diegetic-musical-cum-found-family-pirate-AU. Luckily, that was in the last story, and he is completely better now in all respects. None of that nonsense is a thing anymore and it will not be relevant at all! Surrounded by friends and allies, with a very cool piratey boyfriend and a hold full of treasure from his recently decimated country, he’s got everything a fellow could want.

What will he do?

Befriend an octopus god. Learn to fish. Kick back. Take it easy. Kiss his boyfriend a lot. Open a jewelry company? Pursue immortality. Confront his past. Embrace his future. Maybe save the world. One thing’s for sure: there will be a lot of songs involved.

Read here!

Two idiots at Homoville, N69, TX

In a moment of desperation, Dirk goes on r/relationships. Things get oversharey real quick. He types as follows:

“I [23M] cannot understand my [24M?] roommate. He is the most bizarre man to ever set foot on earth and I’m afraid I’m losing him.”

or, and They Were Roommates.

Read here!

Drive it home with one headlight

Some mistakes are so fucking big that they divert the path of your life entirely, sending you somewhere you were never meant to go. Some mistakes are so seismic and so obvious that when you look back on your life all you can see is the beacon where you made them. Some mistakes leave you so far off course you don’t even recognize who you are or why you’re still here.

You don’t usually get a chance to make amends.

Read here!

A Tallied List of Various Occasions in Which Jake English Encountered the Elusive Smile Belonging to One Dirk Strider

Jake English, explorer extraordinaire, tracks down the most unique treasure of all: a nerd in pointy sunglasses.

Read here!

BONES OF BLACK MARROW

Dirk summons a demon for the exclusive purpose of ‘cathartic boning.’ He gets what he wants.

NOTE: This fic is ergodic (think House of Leaves), which means it cannot be downloaded for offline perusal on your kindle/pdf reader. Also has CYOA elements, so clicking “Entire Work” will make the fic impossible to read.

Read here!

fire fly

A wedding. An anxiety attack. A daring tryst.

Read here!

DIRK TOPS (Fancomic)

Ever think about how Dirk Strider got full narrative awareness of the fanfics where he’s the big scary hunk in charge and went “I can do that” when he wasn’t, in fact, able to do that? i do. i think about that.

Read here!

MLM stands for Moron loving Moron (Fancomic)

aren’t you TIRED of longing? don’t you just want to go APESHIT while dating your best bro? i mean, you’ve earned it, right? (Collection of oneshot comics. marked as complete, updates whenever)

Read here!

fist is a four letter word

Jake’s face quirks. “App?“ 

“Yeah, app. Like, application. You know your phone can do other things right? Like, apps.”

“You sure do keep using that word! I’m not quite sure I understand what you mean.”

“You know, apps.” You try to think of how to explain apps. You suddenly can’t think of what apps are.

What’s the name of an app.

Literally just name any app.

He’s staring at you.

Oh my god.

Read here!

Witching Hour

There’s something almost magical about that time between too late at night and too early in the morning. It’s the perfect time to meet a stranger and go on an adventure.

Read here!

[zaph1337]

Monster Hunter Rating 27: Rathian, the Queen of the Land

I mentioned during the Rathalos review that there’s a reason why there wasn’t a lot to say about Rathalos’ behavior, and that I would discuss that here. The reason is simple: I was only talking about half of the species. Rathalos is the name given to the male members of the Rath family (AND LEMME TELL YOU SOMETHING, RANDOM TUMBLR-GOER READING THIS: ZAPH ISN’T TALKING ABOUT THIS KIND OF RATH!), so it’s time to see what the ladies are all about. Introducing the Queen of the Land, Rathian!

(How it appears in Monster Hunter 1)

(How it appears in Monster Hunter World)

(How it appears in Monster Hunter Rise)

Appearance: Rathians, obviously, look a lot like Rathalos, but there are some subtle differences besides the color. First, Rathians have a large chin spike to gore things they run/fly into. The spikes on their wings are also placed differently, being more spread out than they are on Rathalos. If you look at the MH1 render, you’ll notice that there are markings on the back of Rathian wings, rather than having them on the undersides like they are on Rathalos, who also have a different pattern. The final big differences that I see are the spiny hairs on Rathian’s wings, back, and tail.

Considering Rathian and Rathalos are meant to be the same species, it makes sense that they’d look similar to each other, but they have some differences that make them distinct. My only real gripe is that I don’t really like the shade of green they used, so I honestly prefer Rathalos’ design. Still, Rathian looks just fine. 7/10.

Behavior: Rathians are known as the Queens of the Land for a reason; even though they can fly perfectly fine, they patrol their territories on foot. But that’s because Rathalos already has the air covered, which brings me to an interesting aspect of Rath behavior: When they choose a mate, they stay together and hunt as a couple, as well as work together to guard their nest. Despite how strong Rathians are, they prefer to hunt smaller monsters like Velociprey/dromes and drag them back to the nest, while Rathalos grab larger prey such as heavy herbivores and weaker wyverns which they can airlift back home. This is apparently because Rathalos are the stronger of the two, but not only are Rathians still powerful enough to only be threatened by other apex predators, they’re larger than Rathalos are! Rathians are 75.6 ft long at largest and 37.8 ft long at smallest, while Rathalos are 73.8 ft long at largest and 37.4 ft long at largest. Yes, there’s barely any difference, but that just means that they should command the same respect that Rathalos do, since they should be just as powerful! Instead, monsters such as Plesioth find Rathians less threatening than they do Rathalos, which is moronic. It feels like the devs thought they couldn’t make Rathian an equal to Rathalos because it would make the latter less impressive, but by making the female Raths weaker it just comes off as (hopefully subconscious) sexism.

If Rathians are stuck fighting a monster that actually has a good chance of killing them, they can let out a special roar that their mates recognize as an SOS. If their Rathalos mates can get to them in time, then whatever attacked them has to deal with two of the most powerful wyverns around at the same time, which is likely a death sentence for anything but the most overpowered monsters out there. I like the idea of tag-team hunters, but I can’t get over the fact that Rathians are weaker than Rathalos for no good reason, and no, making Rathalos look better doesn’t count. 6/10.

Abilities: I can speak from experience here, too, because I’ve actually killed a Rathian in the Rise demo! Rathians have similar abilities to Rathalos, but there are a few key differences. First, Rathians seem to have greater proficiency with their fire abilities than Rathalos do, as they can spit out several bursts of fire at once. They can also charge their fireballs up to create a more powerful blast that ignites the ground, creating longer-lasting flames. 

Secondly, Rathians lack venomous talons, but that’s just because their venom is channeled to a different part of their bodies: their tails. They do this by doing an aerial backflip that swings their tail like an uppercut. The wiki says that the barbs on the tail are what injects the venom, but it also says that they can poison you with their tails even if you cut the clubbed tip with the barbs on it off, so its best explanation is that the organ that produces the venom is located near the tail’s base and not its tip. Finally, Rathians do more damage with their head-on charges because yes, that chin spike is indeed made to impale you.

Like I said, I’ve killed one of these before, but it didn’t come easy. They use their abilities rather effectively, and I doubt that the one I fought was a high-rank Rathian. Really shows you how dangerous these ladies are. 7/10.

Equipment: If you’re worried that the devs just recolored the Rathalos equipment for Rathian, then good news: they actually tried this time! Yeah, there are a couple of recolors, but the majority of the weapons are unique. To prove it, remember the Sword and Shield that I showed for Rathalos? Here’s the Princess Rapier, the Rathian SnS from the same game:

See? Completely different! Rathian weapons are either Poison or Fire element, and this one definitely leans more into the Poison aspect, since plants and poison have a strong connection. This looks cool, but I can’t help but wonder where the smith got those vines and thorns from, ‘cause the only things that went into this weapon came from Rathians. Next up is a Hunting Horn that’s called the Valkyrie Chordmaker in the majority of its appearances, though the render I’m using come from MHO, which doesn’t have English names for equipment:

The reason I used the MHO model for this weapon is that it best shows off how pretty it is. There are several neat touches to it; the head may be a bell, but the handle is a flute, which, by the way, has the Rathian wing markings around the finger holes, and there’s a crown marking where the bell and flute meet, as well as a bigger crown that the bell’s leaves are emerging from. Those leaves also give the impression that the bell is like a flower bud and the handle is a stem. I just really like this thing, okay? To end off the weapons, here are the Dual Blades shared between Rathian and Rathalos in almost every game that has Dual Blades for them, the Twin Flames:

I like how the Rathian blade is bigger ‘cause that’s how Rathian and Rathalos actually are, though it makes the Rathalos blade look more like a kunai or dagger than an actual sword. Other than that, this is a sweet, symbolic weapon that becomes less sweet when you remember how you got the parts for it. As for the armor sets, they’re not recolors, either. Here’s the Blademaster armor from Tri:

The men’s set looks really cool thanks to the helmet, though I can’t help but be reminded of Reptile from Mortal Kombat when I look at it (Note: I have never played an MK game in my life, I’m just interested in the characters, lore, and sometimes even the meta). The women’s set, though, raises a question: why do you need a dress made of steel, especially when you’re probably gonna be dodge-rolling in it? Well, whatever. Let’s end this off with the Gunner set from Tri:

Well, that’s a shift. We went from lizardmen and warrior queen chic to military garb. I mean, it makes sense; not only are you a Gunner, but Rathians are the perfect color for making camo out of their body parts. Don’t ask me where the goggles came from, though.

The Rathian equipment is all great, apart from one or two recolors of Rathalos weapons. There were several weapons with cool designs that I couldn’t show due to my weapon limit of 3 and the fact that I didn’t like how small the renders were, but I think that the Chordmaker alone made up for that. 8/10.

Final Thoughts and Tally: Listen, if Rathalos was getting a high score, so was Rathian. They’re both impressive monsters with cool equipment, but I like how Rathalos looks just a bit better. Still, this is one queen that’s earned her throne, and no one’s taking it from her any time soon. 7/10.

[suwya]

Till the Stars Had Run Away - Chapter 6

.

Summary: Killian Jones was a voyager. Actually, he was many things, or at least he had been - a lieutenant, a brother, a loving boyfriend - until everything had turned upside down and his life had hit an all time low. So, he gave up. Aboard his spaceship he abandoned Arcadia, his planet, navigating the stars and other solar systems in search of... well, he still didn't know what he was searching for, but his rule was "never remain in the same place longer than necessary."

.

Rating: M

.

Prologue; Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

AO3

.

.

A/N: Sorry for the waiting, but real life came along and I had to stop writing for a couple of weeks. Thank you @thisonesatellite for being the best beta reader I could ever ask for. And thank to all of you who are reading this. Happy Labour Day!

.

.

Chapter 6 . .

Be not inhospitable to strangers,

lest they be angels in disguise.

(W. B. Yeats)

.

.

.

When Killian regained consciousness he found himself in what reminded him of a military hospital. There were thin white curtains around his bed, but through them he could spot other beds like his, most of them empty. The room seemed large and dimly lit.

He closed his eyes and remembered the crash landing, the unknown desert planet, the great rock that was about to crush Henry, and that feeling of unease and imminent danger he had felt just before the impact. Where was he? And above all what kind of situation was he in, a good or a bad one? He opened his eyes again, and noticed he wasn’t alone. A woman was checking his IV, and a nearby monitor was beeping intermittently.

Killian tried to sit up, but a stabbing pain in his lungs made him desist immediately. He groaned loudly.

“Look who’s awake.” Said the woman, who was now staring at him. “Hello, handsome.” She added cheerfully.

Killian had found himself dealing with uncharted waters several times in his life. He decided to play the waiting game. “This is usually my line, well, more or less.”

“Really? In this case, I'll warn my husband not to approach you.”

“Don’t worry I'm not into men, not recently at least.” He smirked.

“Oh, but my husband is quite the charming one.”

“I still prefer the company of a fair lady, if I could choose.” He winked and chuckled, and a dull pain made him gasp.

“Take it easy.” She immediately shifted her attitude from playful to worried. “How do you feel?”

“As if I've been hit by a rocket.”

“Not a rocket, but yes, you’ve been hit hard. You’ve suffered two broken ribs. And believe me, you were lucky, it could have been worse. Do you mind if I run some tests and see how you react?”

“No problem.”

While the woman was busy measuring his temperature, making him follow a small blue LED light with his gaze, and extracting some blood to examine later, he took advantage of the opportunity to observe her more closely. She had short black hair and green eyes, bright and lively in contrast to her very delicate skin. Killian found himself thinking of another pair of green eyes, which had been filling his thoughts frequently lately. The memory brought him back to reality quickly.

“What is this place?” He inquired, eager to know what had happened while he was unconscious.

“Welcome to Vernal-Den.” She answered smiling.

Killian tried to remember if he had ever read about this planet. “Never heard of it.”

“Yeah, we’re not very popular.”

Was she too concentrated on checking-in his vitals, or was she being too concise on purpose? He didn’t know, but he intended to keep an eye on her. “How long was I out?”

“A while.” Another elusive answer.

He decided to test the waters. “Were there ….other injured people with me?”

“If you’re referring to Henry and Emma, they are perfectly fine.” She seemed sincere. “They are staying at our place. Henry has visited you every day since you came in.”

“And Emma?”

“Well, she can’t come in. She’s not a relative of yours. But she has spent long hours sitting just outside that door.” She said pointing towards the exit. “I had to order her to go home and get some rest.”

After that she excused herself, saying that she had to attend to other patients.

He realized she hadn’t even told him her name. He didn’t know if he could trust her or not. The fact that she had avoided some of his questions sent chills down his spine. And most of all there was the Emma problem.

Why couldn’t she visit him? Was it true that it was only a matter of rules? Or was she in some kind of peril? He needed to know what was happening behind those doors that separated him from the woman that had been pestering his dreams in the last ten years of his life. He had to know that she was alright. To hell with rules! He thought. And by the way, when was the last time he followed one. He had to get out of this place. He tried to sit up, but the pain in his lungs was so strong that his vision started to blur and cold sweat formed on his temples. He lay back down on the bed, aware that in his conditions he couldn’t have gone far before collapsing unconscious on the floor. He promised himself to solve the problem as soon as he had enough strengths, but he couldn't dwell too much on that thought, because sleep was reclaiming his mind again.

.

.

~·~·~·~

.

.

Time passed very slowly, or so it seemed, but maybe it was simply the fact that every day looked the same. Killian was mostly asleep, probably due to the painkillers introduced through the IV, and when he woke up he couldn't tell how long he had been out, he couldn't even tell if it was day or night. There were no windows in that room.

During one of the moments when his mind regained consciousness, he felt the mattress drop slightly to one side and he slowly opened his eyes.

“You are awake! How do you feel? Can you breathe? Of course you can, you would be dead otherwise! Does it hurt?” Henry was sitting at the end of the bed, and he was asking a lot of questions, as usual. “Sorry.” He suddenly looked contrite. “I should let you rest, but…”

“It’s ok, lad.” Killian cut him off. “I’m glad to see you’re all in one piece.”

The boy greeted him with a wide grin.

Killian remembered the last moments before getting injured, and he was relieved to know that he had been able to prevent that rock from hitting Henry. But other worries crowded his mind. “How about your mom?”

“She’s fine. She’s outside. They won’t let her in. You know, only relatives and all that stuff.” He explained.

“I see. And why are you…?”

Henry didn’t let him finish the question. “I told them I’m your son.” He whispered with a conspiratory smile.

“Clever boy.” Killian’s chuckle turned soon into a cough due to the pain.

“Does it hurt?” The boy asked, frowning.

The man dismissed the question with a wave of his hand. “It’s not a big deal.” He didn’t want the lad to feel responsible for his well-being. “How many days have passed since we landed here?” He asked, changing the subject.

“I don't know exactly.” And at Killian’s questioning look, he added, “It’s complicated.”

“How so?”

“People live underground here,” The boy started to explain, “With no opportunity to look outside. And there are no clocks. My watch had probably broken when we arrived, it doesn’t work anymore.”

The man hummed, he was starting to understand. The lack of windows, the elusive answer he had received from the dark-haired nurse… everything was beginning to tally in Killian’s head. “I want you to think carefully about everything you saw outside this room. Did you feel something was wrong?”

The boy shrugged. “I don't know.” He seemed to ponder. “This place is strange. Lots of corridors and passages underground. We are not allowed to go out into the open. They say it’s dangerous. But I never felt a threat or something. I would rather say it’s boring.”

“Why boring?”

Henry was trying to find the right words to explain it. “All the days are the same, people repeat the same actions every day. They say it’s useful to maintain a routine. But I don’t think Mary Margaret and David are bad people.”

“I’m sorry, who?” Killian asked.

“Oh, yeah, Mary Margaret, she is your nurse. We’re staying at her home. She is very nice. And David is her husband. He showed me the greenhouse. It’s awesome and huge, you should see it! But I don’t think he works there. I don’t know what his job is.”

Routine? New people? A greenhouse? Well, that was a lot of information to process. But Killian felt sleep calling him back. Next time I see that lady Margaret, I’m going to ask her not to put more painkillers in my IV. He thought. “Thank you, Henry, for everything. But I may need to rest for a while now.” He managed to say before falling asleep again.

.

.

~·~·~·~

.

.

Emma knew Killian was feeling better, Henry had told her about their short chat, and some of her child's enthusiasm had even infected her positively, but she continued to feel restless, she wanted to make herself useful. Most of all, she wanted to see Killian again.

All this absurd situation was her fault. And no, she was not thinking about the fact that Killian was lying on a hospital bed because of some bad decisions she had made lately. No. She was not going down that path again. She had already spent a lot of hours regretting many choices done in the last month.

But this was nonsensical, why couldn’t she visit a friend that was hurt and maybe in need of some company? She had actually had a chance to say that she was his wife; after all in the eyes of her guests, she and Killian had a son together, so why not lie a bit more and make Mary Margaret believe that she and Killian were married. But the thought of a possible long time spent together on this planet feigning to be a happily married couple scared her, and she couldn’t go on with the lie.

So there she was, sitting on a very uncomfortable metal chair in the waiting room. She had spent more hours there than she could count.

David had passed by to greet his wife, and he had offered to take Henry with him, on the way back home. So she was left alone with her thoughts.

Mary Margaret peeked out the door with a steaming mug in her hand. “Take this. It will help.”

She agreed with a nod. “Thank you.” She sipped some of the hot liquid and it felt like her nerves were starting to relax a little.

“You should go home and rest. It's late.” The woman said.

“Mary Margaret let me enter.” Emma pleaded for the umpteenth time.

“We have already talked about it. You know I can’t do that. There are strict rules down here, and the best way for us to survive is to follow them.”

“This is insane. I’m not a dangerous criminal or someone who is plotting to destroy this planet. I just want to see him. Please.” She begged.

The dark-haired woman seemed to be pondering all the possible consequences. “All right.” She sighed. “Let’s just say that I’m going inside and leave the door ajar, by mistake, of course. I have to check some very important documents, so I’ll be busy and concentrated. I’m not going to ask you what you’re going to do in the next... fifteen minutes or so. Okay?”

“Thank you.” Emma handed her the cup back, rising from her chair. “You won’t regret it.”

After Mary Margaret disappeared behind the door, Emma waited some minutes before going after her. The room was large and there were many beds, she had no idea where Killian was, but after a quick look at the surroundings, she discovered that only a couple of all the beds were occupied.

She approached one of those and gently opened the curtain trying not to disturb the patient lying inside.

Killian seemed asleep. He was pale, with dark circles under his eyes. She could only imagine the pain he was going through. She had her heart in her throat because she felt responsible for the situation. If they hadn't taken a detour because she had requested it, they'd probably all be home safe and sound by now.

“Hey, beautiful.” He greeted her with a painful grin.

Immersed as she was in her thoughts, she hadn't noticed that he had woken up. She smiled, trying to be strong and not show her inner turmoil. “Do they treat you well here?”

“I'm not complaining. The nurse is kind and the food is edible.” He tried to downplay the situation. “Although I would prefer the care and attention of a certain blonde.” He winked.

Emma chuckled. Then she went closer to him and sat down on the side of his bed, trying not to cause him any more pain. She looked him straight in the eye, and then, gently, she took his hand in hers, intertwining her fingers with his. She saw him swallow hard, and the beeping of his heartbeat accelerated on the monitor. She smiled softly again. “Thank you for saving my son’s life.”

She saw how he wet his lips before answering as if his mouth had been suddenly dry. “It was the right thing to do.” Was his answer, but his voice came out slightly choked.

Emma looked back, checking if any hospital employee was nearby, “I shouldn’t be here, and unfortunately my time is running out. But I wanted to see you... needed to see with my own eyes that you are ok... well, more or less.” She whispered, with her gaze lowered, avoiding eye contact. The physical connection of their joined hands was already arousing too many contradictory emotions inside her.

“Aye. I know the feeling.” He replied, letting her know that he had been eager to establish contact with her throughout his stay in the hospital.

At those words, she stared at him again. “Get well soon.” She bent down and dropped a mild kiss at the corner of his lips. “We need you.”

.

.

~·~·~·~

.

.

Killian was lying on his back staring at the ceiling. This time there was no way he would fall asleep again. Every time he thought about what had just happened his beeping monitor sped up. He blushed. It had been just a chaste kiss, nothing compared to the hot and breathtaking one they had shared a few days before. But she had said it had been a one-time thing and he had promised himself not to indulge in those lustful thoughts anymore. Yet, this last kiss had seemed much more real, and meaningful... it had left him with a feeling of hope.

Hope and distress. Emma was such a strong and beautiful woman, a marvelous creature, as he liked to describe her in his mind, and a princess even. And what was he? A rebel, and a scoundrel. Or a rapscallion... whatever. Okay, maybe not anymore, but he had been in the past, for many years. He had been trying to redeem himself lately. But was he worth enough of her? That was the million dollar question.

He was still ruminating on it when the known brunette peeked out the curtains. “Hello. How are you today?” She greeted him with a bright smile, as usual.

“Better.” He hoped the monitor on his right wasn’t showing his state of mind.

She came closer. “Do you mind if I check your ribs? It's time to change the dressing.” After a short pause, she added, “I'm sorry, but we don't have the best equipment to assist our patients. We have to work with what we have available on this planet.” She said pointing to the bands that covered his chest.

Killian nodded, and Mary Margaret started to untie the bandages. She seemed concentrated on her task, probably she was trying to avoid causing him any pain. It was only when she started to apply an ointment on the bruises, that she spoke again. “You love her.” It was just a whisper, and Killian doubted if he had heard correctly. But then she added “Emma.”

It wasn’t a question, and he pondered what was the correct answer, or if she was expecting one. “I'd go to the end of the world for her… Or the multiverse.” He said eventually.

“And she for you, I take it?”

Killian chuckled and shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“What’s the problem?” She looked at him surprised. Then took some clean gauzes and started to wrap them on him.

“She's bloody brilliant, an amazing woman. She fights for her son and always does what’s right.” Killian’s voice was so full of admiration.

“Is there something wrong with it?” Mary Margaret inquired.

Killian shook his head again. “She raised the bar very high. The fact is, I don't think I measure up.”

The woman folded the old bandages and took the ointment bottle, then she stood up, she was making an exit when she stopped short. “Since you came here I've been watching you.”

“I don't know if I should be flattered or scared.” The man tried to ease the tension of the moment.

“We don’t have many foreigners on this planet, but believe me, you're not one of the bad guys. You sacrificed yourself for the sake of a young boy. There's good in your heart.” She smiled at him softly. “I’m going to look for the doctor; I bet you’ll be leaving this room soon.”

.

.

~·~·~·~

.

.

The following day started the same as the previous ones. But during the first hours of the evening a man in a white coat came to visit Killian. He explained the medications and precautions to be taken to him, some movements that he should avoid for a while, and other tips for a speedy recovery. Then he handed over some papers for the patient to sign to be discharged. Finally some good news.

After a while redressing and packing up his few belongings in his satchel Killian went to the door. Walking hurt a bit but nothing he couldn’t bear.

Mary Margaret was already waiting for him, and a tall blonde guy was with her. “You must be Jones.” He said. When they shook hands, Killian learned his name was David Nolan, and he remembered Henry had mentioned him in his conversations. “I’m going to take you to our humble abode.”

Nolan's house was in fact modest. A loft with a large dining room, a kitchenette, a bedroom, and a small bathroom on one corner, all open, without doors, except for the bathroom. There was a raised bedroom opposite it, whose access was a metal stair.

Dinner was good, if a little awkward. Emma didn't interact much, and Killian wanted to ask if something was troubling her, but he preferred to wait for a better time, perhaps a less crowded one. Henry entertained them with what he had done throughout the day and kept repeating how glad he was that Killian was back with them.

But the man was still a bit cautious with those new people around him. He didn’t know them, especially the Nolan guy, who had been silent for most of the dinner, glancing sidelong at him as if he wanted to study him thoroughly before making a personal judgment. The feeling was mutual, Killian thought.

Just after dessert, David started to speak. “What will you need to restore your ship?” He asked.

“Uh… a new stabilizer, I think, and some parts of the propulsion engine for sure. But I’ll have to look closely at the damages to be sure there’s nothing else broken.”

The blond man nodded. “Not many ships come and go from here. But I hope we can find all the pieces you need.”

“Thank you, mate.”

“Tomorrow I’ll take you to the hangar where your ship is. We’ll have a look at it.” He seemed sincere in his generosity.

“May I help?” Henry barged in.

A chorus of “No!” echoed the room.

“I appreciate the support, but it could be dangerous.” Killian explained.

“I hate being here. I feel trapped.” The boy complained.

Mary Margaret sighed. “This is a feeling that will vanish with time.”

The woman was no doubt trying to instill some optimism, but Killian didn't like the idea of staying in that place longer than necessary. “Well, then, let’s hope we could leave this planet before the feeling has entirely vanished.” He made a grin and passed his hand on his side.

“Time for resting.” The brunette stated although it sounded more like an order. “But before that, we should change those bandages. Emma, would you like to help me?”

“Me?” Emma, who had been silent and a bit on the sidelines all evening, seemed to re-emerge from wherever she’d gone.

“He won’t be able to do it by himself when you won’t live here anymore. It’s better if you learn how to help him.” Mary Margaret clarified.

Emma looked like she was going to object, but in the end, she asserted. “Sure.”

.

.

~·~·~·~

.

.

If a certain nervousness had taken hold of Emma as she climbed to the upstairs room, it disappeared the instant Mary Margaret helped Killian get rid of his shirt. That wasn’t a thorax, it was a nautical chart. Most of it was covered by gauze, but she could still spot many marks and scars.

There was a tattoo, two of them to be exact, but Emma saw just one at first. It was on his right forearm; it was a big red heart with a dagger running through and the name “Milah” across it. Emma made a mental note to ask him later who she was.

Mary Margaret showed her how to unfasten the bandages, and then she ordered her to stand behind him, to help better in removing them all.

On his back, Emma saw the second tattoo, on his right shoulder. It was an old nautical instrument she had read about in a book when she was younger, but she couldn’t remember the exact name. The drawing was beautifully detailed, even if it had faded, it was probably older than the other one, she thought.

And when all the gauze was out of the way, she saw them: tiny, blurred, old scars that studded most of his back. Emma wondered what kind of life he had to endure when he was very young.

Mary Margaret asked her to help with the ointment. She had already opened the bottle and was showing the blonde woman how much cream to use. But Emma wasn't listening, standing now in front of the man, her attention was caught by the glorious chest hair that was covering most of his torso.

Okay, there was also a big, horrible bruise on his right ribs, but Mary Margaret was saying that it seemed on the way to a fast recovery, if the yellow and purple veining was some indication.

Emma was ogling and she wasn’t ashamed of it either. The amount of hair decreased in the lower part of his chest, leaving a black trail that disappeared under the hem of his pants.

"See something you like?" Emma was abruptly taken back to reality by a smug Killian that was smirking at her while arching an eyebrow. She blushed. She was caught red-handed, but she couldn’t let him win. She took advantage of the fact that Mary Margaret was looking for something in a nearby drawer, to get closer to him. She looked at him lasciviously from under her lashes. “Maybe?” She purred.

Now it was his time to blush, he looked intently at his feet, but she found the bright red that appeared on his ears extremely endearing. Point for Emma.

Mary Margaret taught the other woman how to fix the bandages, and Emma had to use some tiny hooks to hold them together. She did not miss the opportunity to casually slide her fingers over a part of his chest hair that came out of the bandages.

“Bloody Hell!” Killian muttered.

Emma retreated her hand immediately. “Sorry. Did I hurt you?” Worries that she had done something wrong clouded her gaze.

“Apologies.” Killian was scratching behind his ear, in evident embarrassment. “While I do enjoy two lovely ladies attending to my needs, I'm not used to someone taking care of me…” He smiled and brought his mouth close to Emma’s ear: “I’m usually the one who devotes full attention to a woman’s needs.” He whispered, but clearly not as quietly as he would have liked, because Mary Margaret's answer - “Well, you will have to put that off for a while” - made him blush again like a schoolboy scolded by his teacher.

.

.

~·~·~·~

.

.

Suddenly it was bedtime. Everyone was busy making preparations and taking shifts for the bathroom to change for the night. Killian was upstairs, staring at the bed he knew he had to share with Emma, who was arranging a pillow on the nearby sofa. He passed a hand through his hair and then scratched a spot behind his right ear. “I'll crash on that couch.” He stated as if it was the most logical conclusion to a battle he was fighting inside.

“Don't be ridiculous,” she scoffed. “It's barely long enough for Henry. Plus, you’re still recovering, you absolutely need to rest.”

He didn't seem very convinced. “Emma, I'm not sure this is a good idea.”

“And why is that?” Was her exasperated reply, turning towards him with her hands on her hips. “What are you going to do? Seduce me with a couple of broken ribs and a ten-year-old boy sleeping next to us?”

He lifted his arms and surrendered. “Fair point.” He conceded.

In no time they were all ready for the night and Henry was snoring softly on the sofa. Killian was supine, staring at the ceiling and thinking about the events of the day. In any case, sleep had no intention of coming, but he tried not to move. He didn’t want to wake up his roommates. Emma was lying close with her back to him and he didn’t know if she was already in the arms of Morpheus.

He turned his head to observe how her upper body moved with the rhythm of her breathing, blond curls covering her shoulders. Killian had to repress the urge to touch them. And as if responding to his call, she stirred and turned to face him.

Her eyes opened lazily. “Still awake?” She murmured.

“I have the feeling that I’ve slept enough for the rest of my life.” He whispered. “But you can’t rest either, I see.”

She didn’t answer.

Perhaps it was the closeness, perhaps it was the fact that they had spent the last few days apart. Killian didn't know how he found the courage, but he lifted his left arm as an invitation. “Come here,” he said.

She seemed to ponder the situation, chewing her bottom lip. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

He decided not to think about all the possible implications of that sentence. He was falling in love with her, he was aware of it. Probably the simple doubt that she might not reciprocate was already hurting him, but he knew that at that moment she was referring only to his physical bruises. “You won’t.”

She slipped under the sheets towards him, resting her head gently on his left shoulder and placing a hand on his chest, avoiding the bruised part. Not many minutes passed before her lids grew heavy and she dozed off to the rhythm of his heartbeats. Killian placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

[apothecarinomicon]

Spring week 1 part 1

I’m not quite sure how to begin.

I’m not typically one for journaling but it would appear to be part of the gig, as it were. I found this book—the one I’m writing in, heavy and musty and leather-bound—sitting on the table when I arrived, open to a blank page. There are at least a thousand pages filled before it, and no matter how many blank pages I flip past this one I can’t reach the back cover without closing the book entirely.

Mòrag told me things that present themselves for investigation here tend to be worth exploring, and if my gut tells me what’s right not to stray from its guidance. But I’m getting ahead of myself—you don’t even know who I am.

My name is Fionn Gill, and I’m a witch. I know, I know, but I don’t get into all that “warlock” “wizard” shit. It’s just a way to separate and belittle the same practice based solely on the gender of the practitioner, in my opinion. My specialty lies in potion-making, though I’m not very experienced. I’ve really only just finished my training—I’m from Huntsmanland and they’re not nearly as magically-inclined there as they are in High Rannoc. This is the first part of the country I’ve visited other than my tutor’s homestead and I must say, it hasn’t made the most stellar impression.

My tutor Edith received a letter stating that services would be required in the town of Greenmoor, and since the letter didn’t specify her services, she sent me to take care of it. I don’t know if she expected it to be an indefinite position, but here we are.

I didn’t bring a lot with me—just enough for the journey. It was about all I could carry walking. I arrived in Greenmoor with just about the clothes on my back, hoping they had an apothecary of their own so I could get this over with.

I’ve never really been one for small towns, and nor do they have much love for me. I’ve always thought I was meant for adventure—movement, action, peril, all of it. Small town life just feels so… stagnant. Nothing changes, no one grows or changes or has anything interesting to talk about. It’s enough to drive you mad.

Not to mention the natural suspicion of outsiders. I could see it on Mòrag McKinney’s face, even as she greeted me at the edge of town in her official capacity as mayor. Her hair was done up in a huge bun of thick braids on top of her head—a hairstyle with a formality at odds with her armored clothing.

She seemed surprised when I told her I was the witch. That’s not uncommon—like most intellectual and healing work, witchcraft is traditionally the domain of women. Even in the relatively forward-thinking country of High Rannoc, I tend to get some variation on ‘oh, how progressive!’ when I tell people my vocation. Often if you get a man doing witchcraft, his neighbors will whisper certain things about him. My neighbors back home were whispering those things about me anyway, so that wasn’t much of a hurdle to me.

Mòrag (she insisted I call her by her first name once we’d been properly introduced) gave me a brief tour of Greenmoor. It is, to put it lightly, tiny. I’d estimate a population around fifty. Near everyone has a job that serves an internal function to the community, with maybe the exception of the innkeeper. There are blacksmiths, miners, a carpenter, a tanner… she didn’t indicate any artists or poets or anything of that sort to me, which was disheartening. Even when I thought I would only be here briefly, I was hoping to enjoy the finer things the locals had to offer. The closest this town comes is a library, but I sorely doubt they have any kind of collection of works by local authors.

Mòrag pointed out all the magical resources in town, and some of them impressed me—the lunar tower and ritual circle in particular looked useful. She did not show me any apothecary, and following her aforementioned advice, I took that to mean there wasn’t one. Can’t wait to go out and experience the joys of foraging in the wilderness myself.

Once we’d gone through the entire village, she showed me to the cottage where I’ll be staying. It’s a little ways away from the town proper, down a walking path through some trees. It’s little more than a one-room thing, with only the washroom closed off from the rest of the space. The walls and door are made of dark wood, and the outside still has bark attached in many places. The roof is sloped and overgrown with moss and ivy. Inside the main room there is a bed, a large set of shelves which ought to have reagents and potion-making materials on them but are mostly bare, and a table on which this book sits. The washroom has a tub and a latrine—no plumbing to be found. Out back sits the remains of a garden, only one plot of which looks salvageable. A ways back into the trees there’s a creek. Most of the rest of the clearing is in the early stages of becoming overgrown, with trees and bushes and flowers starting to stretch themselves out and remembering how to be wild.

Mòrag told me the witch who was here before me was a bit of a recluse. No one in town knew very much about her, and she seemed to prefer it that way. They came to her for her healing potions and never made it past small talk and kept inviting her to parties and festivals even though she never attended. And then one day nearly everyone in town woke up with a gift from her—the farmers received her animals, the barkeep her ferments, the innkeeper and bakers her crops. As the townspeople tallied their gifts they realized it amounted to nearly everything she owned. They went together to her cottage to ask her why she’d given it all away, and found her cottage—this cottage—empty. The ensuing search turned up no body, no note, not a shred of evidence to speak of. It was as if she’d disappeared into thin air. As the townsfolk talked and wondered what had happened, they quickly realized no one knew her well enough to provide any real insight. They couldn’t even come to a consensus on what her name was.

They had quickly moved on to discussing the more pressing issue: the town was lacking a healer. The general store owner had worked with my tutor Edith in years prior (Edith loved to tell stories of the time she spent pursuing the culinary arts). Thus, the letter and thus, my presence.

Mòrag told me she hoped I might be more engaged in the community than my predecessor. I decided to refrain from telling her not to get her hopes up, and instead expressed my confusion: I’d thought this was a single gig, that I was to heal someone of their illness and then leave.

She disabused me of that notion with rather more intensity than I think was warranted.

She told me that unless my predecessor reappeared, I was all they had. She said Edith had spoken highly of my abilities in her return letter (I doubted that—Edith never spoke highly of anyone). She told me I would receive a base pay of 20 silver per cure to start, and that if I did the townsfolk well and they grew to like me, they’d most certainly be willing to pay more. She told me that the folks of Greenmoor were good people, even if they were a bit disaster-prone and some of them could make good use of a little more common sense.

And, well, how do you say no to that?

When I asked where I would be getting my materials, she told me the areas surrounding Greenmoor were rich in natural resources. So it will be as I feared. I’m glad I brought my off-road boots.

Mòrag left me to get settled in and I immediately took stock. There are no reagents on the shelves (of course not! Why would there be?), but I did find a cauldron, mortar and pestle, and a copper alembic (which is used for distilling)—so at least once I have the reagents I’ll be able to do some basic cooking with them. I also found a small leather-bound book with vague descriptions of some of the areas surrounding the village. I should be able to cross-reference it with my notes on the environments where useful reagents can be found to make searching for materials a bit less painful.

I pulled a matted tangle of weeds out of the garden plot, but it looks like whatever was planted underneath already shriveled away to nothing. Well, at least the land’s clear now.

One thing that I knew I’d need if I was going to be able to handle this was a familiar. I’ve never been one for conjuration but in this case it’s an unfortunate necessity. I was supposed to be getting one within the next few weeks at Edith’s anyway, and I already knew the process. You’re supposed to have a more experienced witch observe your first time, but that’s just academic formality—there’s nothing actually dangerous about the process.

I found what looks to be a quarter cran basket (was my predecessor into fishing…?) under the bed, and set out around the property collecting small rocks and flowers and toadstools that had the right kinds of vibration. They were for use in the ritual, but also collecting them was a good start to cleaning the property up. Because if I’m going to be living here, it cannot stay looking like this.

I took the basket into the woods near the creek and laid its contents out in a circle as wide as I was tall. Before I placed each one down, I held it for a moment and asked it to help me with my task. Then, I sat in the center of my circle and closed my eyes and tried to meditate. Clearing my head has never been my strong suit, but I’m usually able to fudge the process enough to do what needs doing. This time took a bit longer than usual but eventually I managed. I felt my energy (spirit, consciousness, whatever) radiating out from me, pink and orange and bright and loud, first to the edges of the circle and then beyond. All of it asked a single question and listened for the answer.

The response came from much closer than anticipated, when I felt something small hop onto my knee.

I opened my eyes and looked down to see a frog staring back at me, blinking lazily and making small, guttural noises. Her back was green and rough and slimy. One of her eyes was milky, pointing vaguely off to the left, while the other gazed straight at me. The tips of her toes (three on each foot) edged closer to brown than the rest of her body.

Having clearly presented herself, she now asked if my gut said we would be good partners.

I’ve named her Ailean.

And now here I am, writing all of this down. I don’t know if I’ll be able to manage this every day. Whoever reads this may have to settle for a few times a week. With that said, I do think I’d like to go back and read what my predecessor wrote. Maybe it’ll give a clue as to where she’s gone, and help me escape this position sooner. She seems to have been quite the prolific writer—getting through her logs could take months, especially if the townsfolk keep me particularly busy with their various woes. I’ll have to start reading sooner rather than later.

Speak of the devil, there’s a knock on my door. It hasn’t even been a full day and I might already have my first customer. I’ll finish this later.

⇦●〇●⇨