#The Specter of the Revolution

[mysterious-secret-garden]

Georges d'Ostoya - The Specter of the Revolution, 1921.

[probablygayattorneys]

You know what? … I’ll allow it. With the power invested in me as a child of the American revolution, I declare Emmy an American citizen.

[clockwork-reveries]

The Neoterics?

Made for the masterpost.

Now you may ask yourself? What's Neoteric: Anarchy and Neoteric; Eminence? What's the difference. Well, to put it simply, Anarchy is during the Empyrean War, Eminence is the epilogue. There are technically 4-5 Neoterics. I don't exactly remember the names. Because I am far too burnt out (and busy from college) to write out EVERY Neoteric, this tumblr will tag accordingly to what period of time this was (usually)

Neoteric: Premonition: Prologue, Static's POV

Neoteric: Specter: War beginning, Amp's POV

Neoteric: Anarchy: Mid-war, Crescendo's POV

Neoteric: Revolutions: War ending, RK's POV

Neoteric: Eminence: Epilogue, LOCK's POV

NOTE: Just because they are in a character's POV doesn't mean they are confined, it mostly determines the time period. The POVs are meant for the concrete stories, not the side drabbles.

[oury-boros]

i dont care about harvey specter anymore. where's alex williams. why isn't he currently fucking louis litt, hes a cat man after all! his first big plotline was harvey being jealous that his bestie wants to spend time with ew gross louis litt. why isnt this occurring as we speak.

[tanadrin]

This series of four videos on Ukraine and the Russia-Ukraine conflict is very interesting. The first is basically just a narrative political history of Ukraine from about 2000 to 2014, talking about different political factions that were relevant in the country in the period, and how different internal and external pressures shaped politics. It's very helpful for understanding the Ukrainian political context, including just how recent and just how shallow the supposed tensions between monolingual Russian and bilingual Ukrainian-Russian speakers was in 2014.

The second video is an overview of the Donbass war from 2014-2022, which you might have been vaguely paying attention to at the time. But it's very helpful to have it all laid out in chronological order with the benefit of hindsight, especially due to the obfuscation of Russian operations at the time that made it hard to work out what, exactly, was going on. It's a combination of a good old 19th century-style filibuster (the military expedition, not the parliamentary maneuver), Fox News-style propaganda, and some (rather badly failed) attempts at astroturfing civil unrest--why Russia thought that would work becomes important in Part 4.

Part 3 is just an extended argument that NATO expansion is not relevant to the 2022 invasion of Ukraine, and while I already agreed with that assessment, it's nice to have it laid out in detail. The very very short version is that by NATO's own public criteria, Ukraine was simply not a candidate to join NATO, and had given up on joining NATO, and that had been painfully obvious since at least the Obama administration. Even more frustratingly, there were multiple points where Russia had an offramp to escalation, where it had gotten everything it could have possibly wanted from the conflict in Donbass, and it refused them all.

Part 4 is the author's attempt to explain why it refused them. The very short explanation is that Russia's government is led by idiots, who are very enamored of a flavor of conspiracy theory that has its origins in the LaRouche movement, and which has been bubbling in both left-wing and right-wing circles since 2000. In this worldview, the US government acting through the CIA (or the British royal family, or George Soros, or Jewish bankers, or whoever your bogeyman of choice is) has an almost supernatural ability to overthrow any government on earth by funding performance art groups (seriously), civil society NGOs, and protestors, and that almost every revolution, actual or so-called, since 1989 has been their direct work, from the post-Soviet revolutions, to Euromaidan, to the Arab Spring.

This belief, in its more overt or fragmentary forms, is incredibly popular, spurred on no doubt by historical instances of CIA malfeasance and actual aggressive wars waged by the Bush administration. But the problem is, it's bunk. During Russia's initial moves against Ukraine in 2014, they tried essentially the same playbook in the Donbass, and of course it failed miserably--you cannot actually astroturf a popular uprising. (The CIA has preferred to stage coups and assassinations, which are a different animal from color revolutions.) The separatists in the Donbass eventually had to be supported by a few thousand Russian troops and direct military aid.

But Putin, driven by his own paranoid misunderstanding of world events, the clique of yes-men he has embedded himself in, and his fear of gay Nazi Jewish CIA agents, simply got Russia in over its head. There is no offramp because Russia cannot articulate what its goals are, and because "stop trying to use George Soros to overthrow the Russian government" is not something the US can agree to, since they are not doing it. The only thing that might have prevented Putin fucking with Ukraine in the first place was maybe if rigging the parliamentary election in 2011 hadn't resulted in protests, in which Putin saw the specter of the hand of the CIA--but of course the US and NATO and the EU had nothing to do with that!

And to cap it all off, since the 2010s the LaRouche movement and its theory of color revolutions has been making inroads in China, so we have that to look forward to in coming decades.

[just-a-sleepy-idiot]

Herbert West Drabble: Being stuck at a Busstation with him while it rains

I watched the movie for the first time and now I already have three Wips for him I‘m working on

Content/Warnings: Gender neutral Reader

You were seated under the roof of an old, wooden Busstation and watched the trees bend and sway to the strong winds that whipped through the empty street. The humid summer air had suddenly been disrupted by a burst of rain that was still relentlessly pouring down on the small shelter that was this bus station. Thankfully you were already close when it started, you only got a little wet.

It would take a while for your bus to arrive, so you just quietly listened onto the drumming and tinkling noise. At some point though, you spotted a man swiftly walking towards the Busstation, sheltering his bag under his suit jacket rather than using it to cover himself. That was why he was already pretty soaked when he made it under the roof.

He had black, short hair, glasses and wore a shirt and tie combo that was now fully sticking to his body. You smiled at him with some sympathy, he nodded at you and took a under the bench as well.

You put your bag on your lap and rustled around to find something, shortly after you handed him a handkerchief. „For your glasses.“ You imagined it was pretty hard to see with rain stained, fogged up glasses. „Ah“ he took it and took his glasses off to clean them, revealing dark, very dark eyes beneath that briefly met yours before polishing his glasses. „Thank you.“ He muttered, frowning down at the specters with a concentrated look in his face.

„You must really like your work if you are trying to protect your bag from the rain instead of yourself.“ You joked lightly, putting your own bag to the side again. Herbert looked up, „Like..?“ he paused, „well, you could say so. But most would rather call it Obsession.“ He huffed and put his glasses back on. He handed you the handkerchief back, the way your fingers closed around the fabric mirrored his own, you were looking at him though. „Is it Obsession or Possession?“

Herbert looked up at that, letting go of the handkerchief and now it was you who didn’t look as you were putting it away. It struck him, the phrasing, yet you just lightly smiled like it was nothing.

„Both, probably.“ He said. He liked to think that he was in control of it all, that he was the constructive agent of a scientific revolution. Exceeding not only research but pre-existing beliefs about death itself in the world. But then again there was failure he hated to acknowledge, like the Death of Dr. Gruber. The state he slipped into when he needed a shot. So both, probably.

„What about you?“ He turned the question back at you. He didn’t really care to hear about other peoples lives, he was more occupied to beat Death than to get to know the living. But the question, that weirdly precise phrase, made him a bit curious about your answer.

„I think I may be too idealistic to enjoy the work I‘m doing now, maybe my expectations are too romanticized. I want to do more than all of what is within reach of me right now. But I don’t really have a choice.“ You laughed.

Strangely enough he understood, in a way. Always feeling like there was more to be done, more to archive only to be halted by the somber limitations of his environment. He responded with a hum.

You shivered, wrapping your arms around your body in an attempt to combat the sneaking cold. A strand of hair fell in front of your eyes, but you kept looking out into the rain. Observing it. And Herbert looked at you, and the way there was something so attentive and imaginative in the way you were watching Nature bend and wrestle with the wind and rain. He looked at things the same way, but with different intentions. Everything had a reason, a purpose, and he was determined to put the pieces of his environment together into something he could make sense of or use.

And he saw purpose in you, somehow. And he ached to make sense of it, to grasp how something about you resonated with the Drive that led him to do all of these things. You were very different from him, but your perception seemed to overlap with his in some places.

You heard faint rustling, and looked up in surprise when you saw him gently putting his jacket around your shoulders, careful not to come too close. Herbert held your gaze. You sighed without noise, feeling that it slightly helped with the cold.

„Maybe you can do more.“ He pulled a business card out of his pocket and handed it to you, „My name is Herbert West. Would you like to be my Assistant?“

- - -

I hope you liked it even though this was really short! Please comment to let me know <3

[m0thy94]

I don't think we give enough credit to how funny and scathing the fact is that, 10,000 years in the future, when humanity has expanded to countless other planets throughout the galaxy, and there are necromancers who can slay the vengeful specters of celestial bodies and cross through dimensions, no matter what planet we are on us regular folk are still sitting in cars stuck in traffic. The revolution on New Rho won't be televised but will be keeping a close ear on the radio for any problems taking out lanes on the freeway and what's a good alternate route to go kill god

[probablyasocialecologist]

The Pale is a haze that bends and warps reality and memory. It is a grayness into nothingness, impossible to describe or measure, a location without a defined location, into which one’s memories scramble with other’s and no one’s. It is filled with information from the past, but none that is clear, instead degraded like that of the damaged tapes found in the game. Traveling through it is dangerous. Reality is suspended, and one’s brain becomes garbled as one ceases to be able to remember what is the present and what is the past; what are one’s memories and what are not. It encases the game with a sense of oncoming apocalypse, as the majority of the planet is covered with it, and worse, it is expanding. A parallel to both our own climate change, and our cultural stuckness, it represents the end. The end of the world, a slow and ongoing process; and the end (or more accurately, the edge) of possibility. Disco Elysium’s reality is bounded by a sea of nothingness, in the same way our own is, with no escape from the confines of capitalist reality imaginable.

What hope is there for such a dying world? A world exhausted of the new, ravaged by neoliberal austerity, and overflowing with suffering. In this capacity, Disco Elysium is no fantasy, but our own sad, warped reality. In his book Ghosts of My Life, Mark Fisher describes the concept of hauntology. Originally a term coined by Jacques Derrida, hauntology is an idea that can be understood as how everything that exists is defined not only by what is present, but equally so by what is absent (the word itself reflects this: ontology is the branch of philosophy that studies existence and being. In Derrida’s native French, the h in hauntology is silent, thus (h)auntology is pronounced the same as ontology). He argues that hauntological music, in how it engages with memory and loss, has “an implicit acknowledgment that the hopes created by postwar electronica or by the euphoric dance music of the 1990s have evaporated — not only has the future not arrived, it no longer seems possible.” For Fisher, the latter half of the twentieth century represented a bursting forth of possibilities, with different cultural forms, in what he terms “popular modernism,” were allowed to experiment and expand, in large part due to post-war social welfare policies. With the closing of that period, and the dawning of the so-called “end of history,” such possibilities were drained away. Where once there was a hope for the future (whether in art or in politics), now we have only repetition and despair. In other words, to use his only terminology, these futures are lost. Yet, unlike the bubble gum optimism that neoliberals push, Fisher argues that this kind of sadness can be understood to be productive. In holding onto the desire for the future, rather than it being seen as some kind of conservatism or hopelessness, Fisher argues that “this refusal gives the melancholia a political dimension because it amounts to a failure to accommodate to the closed horizons of capitalist realism.” Sadness and holding into past desires for such lost futures, is political, and imperative, as it sustains the hope for something else, an alternative to that closed off reality that we live in under capitalism.

Disco Elysium exemplifies the kind of melancholia that Fisher talks about. The failure of the revolution is a lost future that weighs down the whole district. Despite the absence of the reality of communism in Martinaise, it exerts a strong presence like nothing else. Fifty years on from its defeat, it’s as if time has failed to really move on. In other words, the failure of the revolution haunts the area, the literal specter of communism can be found everywhere. Many of the other failures of the future can equally be ascribed to politics and the economy. Would any of the misery that surrounds Martinaise’s citizens be present if not for neoliberalism? It’s hard to say, but that ambiguity is what makes hauntology so powerful. It engenders feelings of what if and other potentialities; possibilities that the official reality attempts to close off. The character of Cuno, for example, is a twelve year old drug addict. His father is dying of alcoholism and is left mostly to his own ends, which leads him to all sorts of mischief and crime. It’s noted in the game that Cuno has potential, given the correct choices, it’s even possible for Cuno to take the place of your partner. Yet, for the most part, it only remains that: a potentiality. Cuno is just another poor soul, crushed in the grinder of neoliberalism.

[ri-writes-if]

There are two types of readers for your work: One wants to jail Selene for her crimes, stop the revolution, elope with your chosen RO. The other is gay. Selene is hot, and you yearn for sapphic tragedies. Get her therapy and better her non-life while you can. Abandon morals, you won't need any once you marry your ghost bride. Commit crimes together, establish free medical care for the shards, adopt an abyssal monster together. DO *NOT* STOP THINKING OF THAT SPECTER A SINGLE SECOND OF YOUR DAY. good.

Sometimes, they're both at the same time

You're correct. Jail is good, but have you thought of marrying her? 🫵 Nothing is better than a dead wife with questionable morals.

[sleepyowlwrites]

it's that time of year. I must give you spooky songs.

I'm not just throwing my playlists at you, either. you can find all 200+ of my playlists on my spotify. spooky is a blanket term, okay. the vibes are expansive but there's something...there.

spooky but in the background, mostly

the Ghost songs by Louie Zong

Ancient Souls - The Daniel Pemberton TV Orchestra

Edge of Night - Cullen Vance

The Mist - Max LL

The Inevitable Haunted House - Boqeh

Mass (Re-Imagined) - Phoria

Dispossession - SQUARE ENIX MUSIC

Ceaseless Watcher - harvo

Waltz of the Bone King - Peter Gaundry

Thryy Wyrd Tynns - Alec Holowka

Dance Off - Heloise Tunstall-Behrens & Auclair

Dragon Lullaby - Dave Volpe

The Gambit of Night - Neil DeGraide, Dirt Poor Robbins

Sleep - The Last Bison

Mausoleum - Rafferty

White Specter - Adrian Von Ziegler

spooky but there's something here with you, a creature?

Fangs - Little Red Lung

Rusalka, Rusalka / Wild Rushes - The Decemberists

That Unwanted Animal - The Amazing Devil

Into the Woods - PHILDEL

Into the Unknown - Evetty

The Nowhere King - The Centaurworld Cast

Aha! - Imogen Heap

The Glow - The Last Bison

Nature Girl - Cryoshell

Running with the Wolves - AURORA

Howling Moon - Coleman Hall

The Pines - Roses & Revolutions

Caterpillars (Of the Commonwealth) - Will Connolly

The Night We Met - Lord Huron

Errasuriz - Kiltro

Bloodsuckers - Johnny Hollow

We Have It All - Pim Stones

spooky but maybe it's you

Devourer - Aideoneus

When I Was Done Dying - Dan Deacon

The Yawning Grave - Lord Huron

So Tonight That I Might See - Mazzy Star

The Mortal Boy King - The Paper Kites

Stone Wall, Stone Fence - Gregory and the Hawk

Ghosts - James Vincent McMorrow

Oceanica - San Fermin

Going - Tow'rs

Sticks and Stones - The Pierces

Strange - Runah

All Things Devour - aseaes

Raise the Dead - RAIGN

Sunlit Grave - Saint Mesa

Remain Nameless - Florence + the Machine

spooky but we're having a good time, I think

Let's B Goblins! - Ratwyfe

Death, Thrice Drawn - The Scary Jokes

Great Vacation - Dirt Poor Robbins

Face the Night - Tennyson

Skeleton Song - Kate Nash

Bones - anne october

The Magic - Lola Blanc

All Is Well (Goodbye, Goodbye) - Radical Face

the jester - ratz

spooky but in pastels

In The Beginning - Fahrenhaidt

Kiss the Grass - The Paper Kites

Butterfly Water - Pastelle

I Was Feeling Down, I Found a Nice Witch and We're Friends - In Love With a Ghost

The Ancestor - Darlingside

Entangled Life - Merlin Sheldrake, Cosmo Sheldrake

Night Owls - Mree

[txttletale]

as i say quite often, anarchist/ML infighting in the modern world is pointless -- it's just shadowboxing the specters of reactionary wreckerism / gulags and purges (delete as appropriate) in the aftermath of a purely imaginary revolution at a time when the capitalist state still exists and any mass revolutionary movement does not. just a total inversion of priorities--it's fighting over what to do with our chickens before we even have the eggs

[anarchy-and-piglins]

I have been infected by your AU. As such, have thoughts.

The thing that catches Technoblade in the end is his empathy. That, more than anything, is what keeps him trapped.

He knows the others are androids. How could he not? He knows this. He knows everything about them, from their personality to their responses, is artificial. It's not real, it's an approximation of what would work best, an amalgamation of code and psychology all jumbled up in the most efficient attempts to make him stay. The guilt trips don't work, or at least they shouldn't, because there's nothing to hurt. No soul, no personality aside from what they manufactured.

But they do. They make him hesitate, every time. He knows ways to take out androids (all risky, hypothetical at best, but a chance), but they're the type of thing androids don't come back from. He can't take the thought of ToMM1's eyes blinking shut and never opening, the thought of PH1lZa's hurt and W1LbuR's bitter resignation when they realize the betrayal. (And really, that's assuming it works and there isn't something worse that comes of it. Failure is a specter of its own.)

He just. . . can't.

Because who is he to draw the line between artificial and true, between worth it and not, between person and tool.

Because really it can all be summed up in one line.

"I'm a person."

I'm going off of character Technoblade here and assuming his personality in the AU would be mostly the same. So he's the guy who tore down governments and thought they'd be fine, because all he could see were the people inside. The guy who stared down a kid who was supposed to be executed and saw just that. A kid, an ally, someone with friends and fears, not a threat. (Which in that moment Tubbo was, not in and of himself, but due to the circumstances around him. Tubbo was the linchpin which held Technoblade's life and the revolution on its back.) He's the one who fought so hard to be a person, only to never be believed. This is the man who knows how it feels to be a threat (The Blade) and how hard it is to be anything different when that's all you are to those around you.

And that's part of the tragedy here. Technoblade can't help but see them as real, as people. And they can't help but not.

Thanks to the programing, all they can ever see is a problem, a solution, a possession. Something to be protected, but only. Ever. Some. Thing.

While he can't help but see them as human, they can't help but see him as machine. A mess of inputs and outputs; made to be manipulated.

(As for possible AU names. . . Mechanisms of Captivity? Mechanisms of Trust? Machine AU? I don't know if any of these are what you were looking for, or if they'd work, but you asked.)

I've been thinking a lot about Techno in this AU, the sort of person he is.

I'm inclined to actually make him a bit younger. Think in the older teen ballpark (16-18 years old?). But very much still an anarchist. The thing about this AU is that even before the whole literal apocalypse started, it was basically a cyberpunk dystopia.

Through the advancement of technology and capitalism, as well as the environment being ruined and people's jobs being increasingly threatened by automatisation, the wealth gap has only become wider. The middle class is all but gone. There's only low income citizens struggling to get by (and often dying in the process) and the rich elite that rule everything living a cushy life full of luxury. Androids and robots are everywhere - service jobs, public transports, security, everywhere - but highly advanced androids with intelligence for personal purchase are really just a commodity for the rich.

Techno is an orphan, and he's been on the very bottom of this wretched society, trying to scrape by. An anarchist who hates the oppressive, controlling government, and hates androids by extension. He's a bit of a hacker (his bestie Skeppy even more so) and isn't unknown to the law system, though it's mostly petty crime, so him being a minor and his own resourcefulness has allowed him to stay out of real trouble. He's not upgraded to full on terrorism yet. Theft to get by, moving contraband around for money, sometimes street art or vandalism, that sort of thing.

(Maybe even a Robin Hood type vibe, steal from the rich give to the poor!)

But Techno has learned how to work around androids (again, security is mostly machine-based. Techno knows how to be tricky with them). And that's what saves his life when the killing machine apocalypse gets into full swing.

It's also another layer to his dislike for SBI. Techno is going to be even more hostile and distrustful towards them regardless of the apocalypse thing. And he knows androids are just machines, but it's hard when SBI are so humanlike...

And then again, they are the most advanced models ever. The bug has even further boosted their cognitive ability. At what point does one get personhood? At what point have these machines become people?

(Some people had other ideas but 'Mechanisms of Trust' is banger I'm stealing that /lh)

[paint-it-dead]

I googled the Belladonna of Sadness and: “To take revenge, she makes a pact with the Devil himself who appears as an erotic sprite and transforms her into a black-robed vision of madness and desire.” (Femto, the blessed king of longing) “The spirit visits Jeanne once again and rapes her in exchange for more riches“ (Gennon and Griffith) ”the baron offers to make Jeanne the second-highest noble in the land, but she refuses, saying she wishes to take over the entire world.” (Ok Miura HAD to have seen this, right? Wtf…Griffith…)

omg if you havent watched it check it out, check it out, check it out!!!!!

i think i read somewhere that Miura was inspired by it in writing Berserk? but i cant say that with full confidence...

but the parallels!!! the story goes even deeper than what you said! its been almost a year since ive watched it, so my memory of it is not 100%, but ill talk about what i can remember!

(spoilers ofc)

it contains incredible artwork and its set in pre-revolution France(remind you of another manga berserk was inspired by?) and it talks about a beautiful woman- The Most Beautiful Woman Alive!!!- who has just gotten married to the love of her life! but the marriage can only be made legal by the king/ the baron of the lands(an aristocrat of sorts i dont recall properly) who immediately as he sees her, takes her and rapes her. what should have been the happiest night of her life spent with her lover, is spent being defiled, helpless as she is to fight her fate; a poor powerless woman against the all powerful aristocrat. she becomes someone else; traumatised and desperate and her husband cannot look at her the same anymore. but amid all the grief regarding what was taken from her and how she was changed, arises a new emotion: rage. she wants power. she wants vengance. for every petal of hers that was wilted, she wants to birth a new thorn.

now if you're trying to draw parallels, ig this can be a perfect parallel with griffith getting tortured by the king. the helplessness and the toll of it all. the way how it affects his decision-making in the series.

but now as our beautiful woman is stuck in her bottomless desparate anguish, a new character appears before her: a small evil spectre! he looks her straight in the eyes and says. i am you. and you are me. give everything you have to me and i will grant you what you wish for: a chance to make things even. she is poor, she has nothing to give. so the spectre takes her body. defiles her the same way. and she is granted success. she is granted money. her husband and her reap the benefits of her new powers. now the aristocrat is feeling threatened by her status, tries to appease her-offers her lands and riches beyond a simple commoners imagination. but she, unbothered, responds:"money? lands? im not interested in something as small as that, beacuse im going to take over the world." appalled by her ambition, the aristocrat orders she be exiled as a witch, never to return. this whole time the spectre just grows bigger and bigger. stronger and stronger. the more she hates and gains and succeeds, the louder it roars. the more angry and resentful she becomes, the hungrier it grows. its goal: to break her strong spirit piece by piece, little by little. and when she is exiled and thoroughly broken, it reveals himself: he is actually the devil. he asks: what do you crave? he knows what she wants: power. she asks him to make her into a devil, into a wicked, ugly, wrathful woman who will strike fear into the hearts of anybody who crosses her. she doesnt want to be desirable anymore. her beauty was her cage, her curse. and thats what the specter does. transforms her into an all powerful demon.

but as she aweakens from the transformation, she notices that she has become lovlier, more desirable than she ever was before, an otherworldly, overwhelming type of beauty. she anguishes over this. asks for explanations. she wanted to be terrible, scary and full of rage and anger. to this, the devil responds: "who says that anger and rage cannot be beautiful?"

in berserk, this could be a parallel with the godhand offering griffith his option to sacrifice at his lowest point, and griffith's transformation into a devil -femto- and later into an otherworldly beauty - neo-griffith. there is nothing lovely or lovable left in him anymore, but he is the most lovely and beloved character by everyone in the show after his neo-griffith transformation. his power knows no equal and he strikes fear into the hearts of all who dare cross him. nothing will ever touch him again and nothing will ever be taken from him again, unless he wills it.

so she lives in exile, her otherworldly powers making her a diety of sorts, one people love and worship. one day, her husband, mad at himself and sick with love for her, goes to her to ask for her forgiveness. he couldn't save her when she needed him, and he couldn't protect her when she was taken from him, so all he does is ask for forgiveness. and amid her power-hungry, hatered spinning days of rage, she blooms with love for him, everything else thrown aside or forgotten. he was all she had ever wanted once after all. they fall into each other, one last time before tragedy strikes.

the aristocrat, terrified of her, her power, the support people gave her, orders for her to be burned at the stake. as the flames overwhelm her and she cries out one last time, the people witnessing the scene, cry out in uproar. they kill the king, avenge her and become a lingering flame in the calamitous fire of the french revolution. even though she is no longer there, she achieves exactly what she wanted- vengence against those who wronged her, and world domination, as the uproar from her tragedy, is what kickstarts the world to change.

now the whole parallels with griffith i made clear in italics, but there i dont think that thet is where the parallels with berserk end. there is another character, whose case could be argued, might have been inspired by this movie: casca. the unfortunate fate of the woman, the defilement and heartbreak she experiences because of conditions she cannot control, her story is drowning in them. i believe, if Miura was indeed inspired by this movie, that casca's story takes root in this unfortunate fate this character suffers through, but the only element present in casca's story is the heartbreak and pain, the rage and vengeance part is yet to be seen.

this movie seems to overlap both of these characters journeys, emotions and characterisations. if i have made a post about their alikeness before, this movie would be the main thesis for it. they switch roles and imagery within this "belladonna" character to the point where you cant make a case for one without mentioning the other. he becomes a demon, she becomes a witch. he falls in desperation, she falls into her lover's arms. he takes over the world, she gets burned at the stake. he gets the purpose, she gets the tragedy.

overall, berserk or not, belladonna of sadness is a beautiful story and 100% worth the watch. it contains some of my favourite lines of dialogue and scenes ive ever seen in animated media. its experimental and different, but man, isnt it captivating. WATCH IT!!!

[makapatag]

more uv@eot shit

this is gonna feature words that dont rlly make sense unless you've read the rest of the manuscript

THE LOST AND FORGOTTEN ARTS

All Martial Arts are mostly banned, save for a few practiced and allowed by the PANTHEON for sport. Martial Arts are culture, you see. Culture not approved by THE PANTHEON is pushed to the margins.

And anything not approved by the Pantheon is the whole of humanity.

Here, drink this. That’s it. Hard to go down, huh? Yeah, haha, fucking–you’ll get used to it. You have to. That’s AMRI, it heals all wounds, it's made from the Semen of the God of the Binary Star we orbit. RIT, the last star before all the suns fade. They try to call out to us, you know? The solar flares scramble the Meta-Consciousness and fuck up the systems in The End.

It’s expensive as fuck, can only be bought by the Gods. How’d we get them? By fucking stealing them of course. How else? We destroy shipments, grab them back. We never get caught. We’re good like that. You, though? You’ll fuck it up. Unless you stick around.

You’re a ROOKIE aren’t ya? There’s a lot to learn about the THEATER OF SUBLIME VIOLENCE. That’s what we like to call this whole charade. Yeah, that is the term for the gladiatorial sports as well. For the Gods it might just be sport, but for us it's our entire lives. We spend our entire lives in violence, struggling to get out of hell.

Here’s the secret, Rookie. There’s no getting out of Hell. 

So what do you do when you can’t reach heaven? You destroy it. “It’s easier to imagine the end of the world than the end of capitalism,” they say. So end the fucking world. Become the apocalypse. Some say this shit is depressing and defeatist as fuck, but I don’t think so. For the next world to be born the current one must be destroyed. It takes a helluva a lot of hope to get there. Let me teach you the ropes. You probably have some fighting knowledge, right? Everyone does, here in hell. Throw a punch, a kick? Yeah, that’s good. Gimme a grapple? All right, good enough, you gotta apply some more pressure around my neck but you’ll get the hang of it. That’s enough. Let’s get you to a Martial Commune. That’s where you’ll learn the ULTRAVIOLENCE ARTS. We like to call it just UV ARTS.

You ever heard of THE HEAD OF MARX?

THE HEAD OF MARX

Named after the economic thinker, the Head of Marx puts in mind the sleek plausibility of revolution. To be inducted into this art, you must recite the Communist Mantra and have your skull broken apart with anticapitalist enlightenment, then sutured back together to become a silver kintsugi, with threads of nano-mantra-wires made by the Monk Shatrasattva of the Broken Mountain Range, a well known Marx-Dharmist. The Head of Marx makes your head thicker than most. You become fucking determined. Your main attacking tool becomes your HEAD, you slam it down and destroy and kill the specter. 

Art Traits

Posture: 3

Speed: 4

Style: Raider/Sentinel

Determination: When you describe yourself canceling out a Hit with your Skull, inflict Push 2 on one of the attackers, and then give them your Provoke 1.

Philosophical Juggernaut: When you make a close attack and describe yourself using your Skull, gain 1 Deflect Token. 1/Strike. 

Impenetrable Power of Communism: At the start of your Riff, choose a square adjacent to you. Any attack that starts from that square or has a line of effect that goes through that square suffers Dullness as your burning Skull faces that direction.

MINOR MASTERY: THE HEAD

Things will never be the same.Your head has been shattered apart, and put together again. Your eyes are concetric bifocals to continue the Proletariat revolution. It is only through economic upheaval can everyone blast open the gates for the Path of Enlightenment. And once done, there’s still work to do.

For 1 Beat, you can use your head like a hammer. Make a Close Heat Attack, and then give the target a Knockdown 1 or Push 3. 

EXCEEDS:

TRIPLE SKULL: +1 Beat to make the attack a Blast 3 Heat Attack.

ULTIMATE KILLING RHETORIC: Gain a STRENGTHEN TOKEN after the attack, and then Rush 1.

[theresattrpgforthat]

this might be a big ask, but do you know of any fantasy adventure RPGs that does idk fantasy napolionics, not nesesarily actual napolionics with fantasy elements, but sorta 18th very early 19th century tech + magic and other fantasy stuff, pre/peri-industrial but only just, whfrpg leans (allover the place but) earlier, and a lot of other fantasy stuff with guns leans eather Piracy, or steapunk?

THEME: Fantasy Napoleonics.

Hello friend, there's a lot of different elements going on here, so I"m casting a pretty wide net to show you what's out there. I hope something in here strikes your fancy! I primarily looked for games that felt like they fell within the right time frame, but I also threw in some games that maybe fall just outside your parameters in the hopes they spark something for you.

Castle Falkenstein, by R. Talsorian Games.

When computer game designer Tom Olam found himself sorcerously shanghaied by a rogue Wizard and a Faerie Lord, little did he suspect that he would soon become the pivotal force in the struggle to control an alternate Victorian Universe. But before the deadly game could end, he would first have to battle gigantic Landfortresses, outwit Dragons, romance a beautiful Adventuress, and defeat the Evil legions of a Dark Court determined to destroy him at all costs.  Then maybe, just maybe, he could find a way home again …

Originally published in 1994, Castle Falkenstein is set in the Victorian era, but with a magical twist. This is a world of swashbuckling and adventure, complete with elves, dwarves and magic - but also submarines, Sherlock Holmes, and England’s courtly sensibilities.

There’s going to be many different kinds of roleplaying options in this kind of game, including combat, feats of derring-do, and diplomacy! The thing that possibly makes this game a bit far from what you’re looking for is the ruleset. Rather than using dice, this game uses a deck of cards, with different suits being suitable for different tasks, while card value determines skill or difficulty.

When it comes to setting, however, you’re going to have a lot of great things to look at. The supplements for this game include The Lost Notebooks of Leonardo da Vinci, Curious Creatures, Steam Age, and more!

17th Century Minimalist, by Games Omnivorous.

Welcome to the 17th century minimalist.

This is a fast-paced and highly-deadly game with a pinch of black humour that puts characters as wanderers in 17th century Europe. You will play as tricksters, thieves, former soldiers, bankrupt swashbucklers and petty physicians, roaming the Old Continent in search of coin and glory. The system is designed to allow fast character creation, compatibility with other games (mostly in the OSR community) and a reckless style of play. 

The closest thing to magic in this game is an illusionist, but that doesn't stop this game from pushing your imagination. Games Omnivorous is pretty well-regarded in the OSR community. 17th Century Minimalist is meant to be simplified, fast-paced, and deadly, with technology like flintlock fire-arms, and goals like searching for treasure and glory. If you want to see a fuller review of this game, I’d recommend looking at Questing Beast’s video that covers the rules and the layout of the game.

A Guide to Casting Phantoms in the Revolution, by World Champ Games Co.

A Guide to Casting Phantoms in the Revolution is a single-session roleplaying game, in which players work together to summon specters to fight the aristocracy during the French Revolution. Featuring the pentacrawl system, Guide is different every time you play. Played on a story map in the shape of a pentagram, create a cast of characters, interpret symbols to create unique moments, and have the phantoms do you bidding—or you’ll do theirs!

This is a game with a number of physical, in-person components required to play. However, if you just have the pdf, the creator also directs you to online resources that you can print for the full experience. You are members of a secret cabal, casting phantoms to help you fight. This is a game that evokes the feeling of a ritual, and might feel magical or personal depending on how you play. It’s a strange mix of thematic storytelling and complex mechanics, so it might not be for everyone, but if you want to feel like a cult enacting revenge through eldritch rituals, I’d recommend checking this out!

Tales from the Aerosphere, by EfanGamez.

Tales from the Aerosphere is an original steampunk TTRPG that is powered by the Neon Nights system, a system that prioritizes seemingly limitless character creation freedom. From medics, to assassins, to mechanics, to a literal barbarian, there are THOUSANDS of character combinations you can play in Tales from the Aerosphere.

This game has its own setting, but all of the set pieces could be dropped, altered or changed if you like. The focus on this game is on character creation: the creator has outlined a number of discrete parts that you can use to not just put a unique character together, but tell you something about the world you’re in. If you’re a Spy, then there’s some kind of international conflict that hasn’t blown open into full-out war yet - perhaps there’s technology being developed that some nations don’t want others to learn about.

The game is extremely steampunk, with airships, CogWare that gives you exceptional abilities, and Tesla technology. It’s going to be on the more fantastical side of things, so if you really want to immerse yourself in another world, why not give it a go?

Shot & Splinters, by Tom Mecredy.

Shot & Splinters is a tabletop roleplaying game of naval adventure, inspired by Horatio Hornblower, Aubrey & Maturin, and Richard Sharpe. Drawing on history but not beholden to it, the game is set against the backdrop of the Napoleonic Wars, thrusting your characters into the heart of the conflict. 

If you want seafaring and piracy, this is probably the game for you. It’s set in a napoleonic time frame, but it has strange creatures located upon uncharted waters. The mechanics are OSR, so expect simple stats, tables upon tables of gear, and a hex crawl map of the uncharted seas. If you want more adventure in this world, you can also check out Beneath the Battlements, a city crawl that brings your characters through a city under invasion. Honestly, I think this game might be the closest on the list of what you're looking for in terms of technology level, and possibly theme.

Games I’ve Recommended in the Past

Lady Blackbird, by John Harper.

[qqueenofhades]

Completely shocking, out-of-the-blue prompt that I've never mentioned to you before, definitely not inspired by work:

Ivan is a grumpy librarian/archivist, and Fedyor is a researcher who comes by looking for information on Darklina and/or their connection to Nikolai, and he finds the background of a love story. Obviously, the main character is Ivan's Disgust at the Perception of Heterosexuality

The light in the windowless back office is dim, grainy, and often gives Ivan a headache within the first few hours of him getting to work, which is not ideal for improving his temper. (Then again, not much is.) And despite its flaws, he does vastly prefer it to actually having to interact with the library patrons, as there is literally nothing worse than that. Especially academics, who come in with their laundry lists and their obscure texts, their pet projects and their insistence that if he just looks harder, he's sure to find it this time. Ivan has entertained many, many happy visions of just walking out, locking the doors behind him, and setting the whole thing on fire. Not that he has done that, and he probably -- probably -- wouldn't. He needs this job. Employment for a notorious ex-special ops soldier is thin on the ground as it is, and especially when it means he can, if he plays his cards right, spend most of the day completely alone. But still.

It is now, however, winter break at Os Alta Imperial State University, which means the throngs of panicked students trying to finish their last-minute assignment have mercifully receded, and Ivan can mostly organize his boxes in peace. Or so he thinks, until the accursed tinkle of the Please Ring for Service bell summons him like a wrathful specter, sweater-clad and glowering, to the front desk. "What?!"

"Uh. Good morning to you too." The newcomer -- young, dark-haired, and holding a large manila folder which portends absolutely nothing good, raises both eyebrows. "Can I speak to the archivist?"

"You're speaking to him," Ivan growls. This welcome has caused more than one quaking undergraduate to flee in abject terror rather than ask for even one book, and he fondly hopes for a similar effect this time. But the newcomer -- too old for an undergrad, so probably an advanced doctoral candidate or junior lecturer -- is made of stronger stuff, and doesn't flinch. "Can I help you, Mr... ?"

"Doctor," the annoyingly handsome interloper (not that Ivan has noticed) informs him. "Dr. Fedyor Kaminsky. I'm the new lecturer in the history department, Modern Ravkan History, and I was hoping that you could retrieve a few records for me? Boxes..." He consults his notes. Ivan contemplates murder. "T-1343 and T-1345 especially?"

Oh, great. Not again. Kaminsky -- yes, he vaguely recalls that name, from a department telegram welcoming the new faculty and staff, but it is absolutely not germane to Ivan's further actions in any part. He knows what is in those boxes, and someone always thinks they'll find something there that hasn't already been found, removed, and/or heavily censored. Ravka's last tsar and tsaritsa, Nikolai Lantsov and his half-Shu queen, Alina Starkov, are a figure of fascination and mystery for plenty of people, even after the revolution and the establishment of the Konsilium and everything that befell them as a result. Especially their relationship with the so-called Darkling, Aleksander Morozova, one of the most enigmatic and controversial figures in all of Ravkan history. Doctor Fedyor Kaminsky thinks he's going to jump into his new job with that? Good luck.

"We don't have those boxes," Ivan says, which is almost true. The Konsilium strongly prefers, in general, that people don't look at them, and any other uncomfortable bits of their history. "Go away."

Fedyor Kaminsky folds his arms. "No."

Saints, Ivan thinks sourly. What has he done to deserve this purgatory? (The Konsilium has also tried to outlaw the Ravkan Faith, since they're all supposed to be modern and secular now and because nobody wants another Apparat, but old habits are hard to break.) He stares at Fedyor, who stares back. This is confounding. Why hasn't he run away in terror yet? Everyone else does.

"Sorry," Ivan says, and turns away. "Can't help. Good day."

Naturally, Fedyor Kaminsky does not take the hint. He's back again the next day, still politely and stubbornly repeating his request for those boxes, and when Ivan loathingly suggests that the library is on winter-break hours and does not have to accommodate him at all, cheerily asks if Ivan's boss, the director of special collections, would agree. The threat of workplace discipline (or Saints forbid, a note in his permanent file) is stiff enough to make Ivan finally, furiously recant. Fine. If Kaminsky wants to get himself fired before even finishing his first year, it's nothing to Ivan. Might be a perk.

So, when they're into the second week of the requests, Ivan gives in, stomps to the back, and angrily hauls down the boxes, which are gathering dust from all the times he has, according to the rules, refused access to them before. It's not wise for Fedyor to look at these materials in the open, so Ivan tells him to take them to one of the backside reading rooms -- which is right across from Ivan's office, and makes him grimly reflect that he should have planned it better. But Fedyor works steadily and mostly silently, which is always a commendation in Ivan's book, and finally, on one dead-silent freezing morning right after the Winter Fete, when they are literally the only two people in the library and probably all of campus, he gives in. "What are you looking for?"

Fedyor jumps, glancing up in patent surprise. They eye each other for a long moment, as if to be sure that Ivan Sakharov actually did, entirely of his own volition, initiate a conversation with another human being. Then finally, warily, he says, "What's it to you?"

Good, Ivan thinks. Good instincts, just in case I was in fact an informer for the Konsilium. "I don't care," he says aloud. "I was just curious. They seemed so important to you."

"I'm just working on something," Fedyor says, after a long pause. "Confirming a hypothesis. It'll probably get me into trouble, but -- " He shrugs, with no small amount of bitterness. "I'm used to that."

Ivan thinks about it. This can't go anywhere good, but they've been made a strange sort of partners in this buried secret, and he's almost gotten used to Fedyor working away outside his door. "What?"

"I think they were lovers," Fedyor says, after a final, reluctant moment. "Alina and the Darkling, that is, and then also Alina and Nikolai, and maybe all three of them together. I think it's a love story. And as for why this matters, well -- it wouldn't change anything about our own history right now, how it all ended. But the narrative has always been that the Darkling was this awful monster who had to be destroyed, and the Grisha were his secret shock troops determined to overthrow the country on his behalf, and that pulled Alina and Nikolai into some regrettable circumstance they couldn't control and that led to their tragic downfall -- you know. It's just..."

"What?"

"I don't think it's true." Fedyor shrugs again. "I think everything we know about our own past, about the fall of the Imperial House of Lantsov, and about the Grisha, is a lie. And if that's the case, then the Konsilium knows it, or has covered it up, and that means -- "

"Shut up," Ivan interrupts roughly. "Saints. Don't talk like that. Someone could hear you."

"You could hear me." Fedyor smiles a little, a shadowed eclipse, and it does something very strange to Ivan's innards. "Does that matter?"

"I... " Ivan's mouth is dry. He can't look away. Not for any reason that means anything. "Never mind," he says, which seems the best and safest option, if it isn't already far too late. "Go back to work."

Fedyor eyes him a moment longer, then nods, a deliberate motion indicating that he knows and understands Ivan is choosing to keep his secret. Ivan himself doesn't know why, or what it is about Doctor Kaminsky, the feckless and foolish and fearless, that's gotten under his skin. It could be -- but no, it's not, it can't be that. From time to time, the very brave or very stupid actually think that Ivan himself is good-looking and try to flirt, and once a woman actually asked him on a date, which was the worst moment of his entire life (does he look like a heterosexual?!?!) But it's just shallow, surface-level, not like they're seeing him. Not like they know what monstrosity lies beneath. I think it's a love story. As if love matters. As if love, and the simple truth of it, can change the course of history.

Ivan shudders, once and then again. He looks at Fedyor for a very long moment, allowing himself -- just for that short and fleeting instant -- to imagine something he can never, never have. He grieves for it as if it was real, and then he lets it go. Turns, and walks away.