#Unpredictable plot

[c2e1-book]

Dive into the Twists and Turns of "Mind Games" – Free Audiobook!

Ready for a gripping psychological thriller that will keep you on the edge of your seat? "Mind Games: A Novel" takes you into a world of deception, manipulation, and mind-bending twists. As the characters play dangerous mental games, you'll find yourself questioning what is real and what’s not. If you love stories filled with suspense, intrigue, and unexpected revelations, this audiobook is a must-listen.

And the best part? You can experience "Mind Games" for free on Audible! Click the link below to begin unraveling the mystery:

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Prepare to have your mind twisted—start listening now!

[poppiesforthirteen]

i don't get people who don't like looms because "when two time lords love each other very much they send a formal application to the council to use a machine that is in their house" is so much funnier than a nuclear family

[d8tl55c]

chosen watches the Cursor fly away. this time, it doesn't disappear at the top of... whatever must have happened during the fight. maybe from His perspective, the window was very small. that would explain the scale... and anyway, now, it must be fullscreen.

can ALAN see the whole world from out there?

the Cursor flies up, up, up, up, up and away to the little hole chosen poked in the IP address shell. hopefully ALAN won't be mad about that.

little colorful dots climb off of the Cursor, and hop back through the Wi-Fi tunnel.

then the Cursor starts to get bigger. whuh?

no, wait, it's getting closer.

shit. is He mad?????

chosen watches it fly back down, with that strange halting acceleration. going, going, GOING, and slow slow slowing. it takes only three swipes to return to sea level.

the Cursor hovers next to them. they feel themself being watched, but this time they can't watch back; only infer His perspective, from the angle of ALAN's sole limb in the digital world.

they can't help but turn to look where ALAN sees from anyway. empty air. creepy. but turning again, they see the Cursor wiggling gently. a little wave. disturbingly cute.

ALAN scoots the Cursor upward. brings it down. up, and down. up. up?

it takes a second to translate. of course, they can't hear each other, so they both have to infer from context clues.

"Do you want to come with?"

before they can think, they're already shaking their head. "no," i can't.

the Cursor scoots down, hiding much of itself below the cliff they're standing on, only the tip peeking over. somehow it still translates.

sheepishly, "please?"

it could mean several other things. "why not?" or, "okay," or, "im sorry." it could be another invitation to step on, and return to that sanctuary (PRISON PRISON PRISON PRISON PRISON PRISON) over the clouds. chosen doesn't know. they shake their head.

they shake their head, quick, several times.

they refuse it all.

they turn away from ALAN, and jump into the air, arms splayed in a maneuver they've done thousands of times before.

the fire doesn't catch right in their hands. it sputters, blasts too hard on one and not the other, and then shuts off completely.

they've been stupid, just now, and overestimated themself.

they're going to hit the water spinning out of control.

.

and then, they're not.

the Cursor has them by the back.

fear shoots through exhausted limbs. it flows, as it always does, from their core to their head to their fingers, and this time they...

...let it wash through them. excess stress chemicals stopper and fade. nothing is left behind.

the Cursor sets them so, so gently on their feet. they want to crumple and take a nap right now in the dirt, but they desperately don't want to offend His kindness.

still, their body is not cooperative at present, and it loses it for just enough time to trip their balance.

the Cursor is there again for them to lean on.

chosen is blindsided by anger.

why is He still here? shouldn't He be playing with His new pets??

chosen pushes off from the Cursor, hard, so they land a short distance away at the edge of the cliff ledge. they sit in the dirt, pull their knees in tight, and refuse to look at it any more.

waves sploosh against the rocks, one after the other.

the bay is a relatively calm offshoot of the local sea. too rough for normal swimmers; the perfect private spot for a pair of HI-PWR hollowheads.

green flashbangs fire in their memory. they squeeze their eyes shut, then open them, afraid of seeing something worse left alone with their imagination.

one after the other, waves sploosh against the rocks.

chosen peeks over their shoulder.

the Cursor is still there.

it doesn't fit into the landscape at all. it hovers with a distinct anxiety, too nervous to move a single pixel, yet aching to do something. as chosen looks back, it shifts a little closer- then quickly moves back to its original spot. the picture of, "nonthreatening." on another day, chosen would laugh at it.

they wave their hand in a repetitive motion. "shoo! go home."

the Cursor returns to peeking over the top of the ledge. it doesn't budge.

"GO HOME!" chosen gestures more sharply at the sky to the tunnel that leads to that place where no one would know where they'd gone and they might be (not not not not not not) safe. they feel nothing.

then He does something different. it's the same up, down, up, down gesture, but this time at an angle. chosen traces it along the cliffside, right to... the top. it's-

He's offering a ride to the top.

not all the way up to His domain.

just a lift to stable ground.

just to help.

a little nothing something.

just for them.

all thoughts leave their brain.

whatever this is, is

unfathomable.

they nod, once, outside of themself. why not?

the Cursor darts to attention- remembers itself- and moves in, slowly.

chosen gathers enough wits to stop it before it can click their back again.

to their relief, it complies.

they climb aboard its upper slope.

each movement is precisely calculated to hide signs of weakness.

it's warm to the touch on the black surfaces, like a rock under the sun. it's............

... nice.

when they're settled, ALAN moves the Cursor up the slightest bit - maybe ten pixels. "Ready?"

the way He treats them like such a fragile thing is starting to feel weird.

chosen grips the Cursor and spits a small burst of fire towards the loose rocks. "get a move on!"

and so, He does. He pilots the Cursor (smoothly, carefully) up over the cliff, then down, settling it as close to the grass as it can go without touching.

chosen slides off the slope.

the Cursor recoils back into the air. it hangs there, motionless, anxious again.

or maybe they're projecting.

whatever.

waves sploosh against the rocks, far below, quieter now. it's so quiet away from the trees. exposed. they should probably get out of here.

chosen stands on the cliffside.

the Cursor hovers in the air.

...

their peripheral vision detects it rapidly changing shape, and draws their head to follow the motion.

the Cursor is flipping between different Flash tools; Box, Hand, Line, Transform. it stops at, Text.

then ALAN types something into a floating text box.

[Im sorry]

so that is what he was trying to say earlier.

or maybe it wasn't, and this is only what he's trying to say, now.

or maybe

maybe chosen is far too tired for any of this.

they're tired, and they hurt, everywhere, and of course dark had to be late to lunch AGAIN for his stupid fucking secret surprise project, so chosen had to go fetch him, and now-

-is that-?

they reach up, and pluck ALAN's apology out of the sky.

the Cursor twitches, but doesn't intervene, as they tear it into its individual charset characters, piece by piece, and lay them in the grass.

when they're finished, they pick up the 's,' and stuff it in their mouth.

it's Times New fucking Roman.

a shot of savoury-sweet explodes on their tongue in singular taste, the way only charset can.

they eat both 'r's and the 'o' before slowing down.

the 'm' and 'I' are fine, but it's the 'y' that gives them pause.

they snap off its tail, and are left with a 'v.' TNR is nicely modular like that.

the 'v,' they hold up to ALAN (still lurking overhead).

the Cursor wiggles incomprehensibly.

chosen waves the 'v,' pointing at it for extra emphasis.

He scrolls back to the Text Tool, and chosen nods.

He summons a second 'v.'

chosen grabs it. now they have two 'v's: this is the moment of truth.

chosen holds up both of them, one next to the other, so they look like a-

ALAN types a 'w' into the text box.

chosen nods rapidly!

they toss the 'v's to the side.

then, they gesture at the 'w' - without taking it - and widen their hands, vertically.

it's quiet while ALAN thinks, in that unknown dimension outside of the screen.

He deletes the 'w,' and types a 'W' - and not just one, either. He summons a whole mess of them, overflowing onto several new lines of the text box!

chosen leaps at the wall of charset as though afraid it's a mirage. they crash through, landing in a pile of the things, and seize a 'W' from the air.

they bite from the left-hand leg where the ascender is thickest.

it's unspeakably delicious. it's been too long since they've had their favorite food. they've had a terrible morning, and a horrible afternoon, and it's all over and done with and noo- and ALAN brought them TNR again-

right now, He's copying ever more 'W's, pasting batches in the text box and chipping them off with the Cursor. it looks like manufacturing hard candy. chosen wants to laugh again.

they also want to cry, really, really hard.

later.

chosen chews their 'W' and hopes pathetic weeping isn't rendered on ALAN's screen.

and the Cursor works away, chipping, chipping, chipping, until a real pile forms in the clearing by the cliff over the bay.

...

eventually, the authorities will rise from their asses and come investigate the source of the explosion. the burnt trench leading directly from the brand new caldera to this cliffside, where a conspicuous amount charset is piled would be a dead giveaway of something going on. chosen will stash it somewhere under the trees or something, later. they don't care right now.

ALAN does.

[Will you be okay?]

it's odd.

chosen plucks out the extra 'W,' tosses it in their pile, and simply knocks down the rest so only, [okay] remains.

the Cursor sways gently. He deletes his message, then re-types, [okay.]

...

[If you need anything you can use The]- He halts, and carefully deletes the capital T.

[you can use the console again. To reach me.]

chosen nods, not knowing how.

[okay]

...

there's nothing left to say.

ALAN switches back to the Cursor.

chosen stands up from the grass.

He moves to leave.

they stay still.

He moves a little further, then stops.

wiggles.

waving goodbye.

waiting for their response.

what a strange creature.

chosen waves back, this time. so He'll go away.

[the-music-maniac]

If Yan Wushi is so unpredictable, I think that DILF should bottom once in a while 👀

[blimbo-buddy]

could be just how I approach things but being spoiled on big plot points or twists or what have you doesn’t ruin my experience of reading/watching something. I get excited because now I could piece together stuff like foreshadowing or analyze further what brings the story to that plot point/twist. It’s fun! I don’t get a piece of media ruined for me through spoilers

[miirshroom]

Enya Geil and Finger Reader Enia - Unpacking a deep cut influence on Elden Ring

There is a character from the manga JoJo's Bizarre Adventure named "Enya Geil" or "Enya the Hag", who shares both naming phonetics and some design similarities with Finger Reader Enia of Elden Ring.

In a separate post I went over the Elden Ring tarot timeline in depth. In another post I cautiously floated the idea that maybe certain parts of Elden Ring are taking inspiration from the song titles and lyrics of at least one rock band (and I have data collection on several others in progress). In yet another I noted that the Egyptian god "Ra" seems to have a lot of significance for multiple characters.

Basically, what I want to explore is that Elden Ring's Finger Reader Enia is well positioned to demonstrate a likely inspiration for all of those elements in FromSoft's own 30-year body of work: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure.

Background Info from JoJo's Bizarre Adventure

JoJo's Bizarre Adventure is a manga series started on January 1, 1987, and still ongoing with Part 9 as of late 2024. It is considered one of the most successful manga series, and its most popular era was Part 3: Stardust Crusaders (1989-1992), which introduced the concept of "Stands". Stands are entities psychically generated by their user and in this debut arc tended to be named after one of two concepts: Tarot and Egyptian Gods. On the other hand, the users of the stands would be named after musical artists, which was a trend started in Part 1 and Part 2 ("Vanilla Ice", "Oingo" and "Boingo", "Nena", "Enya", etc). In future parts the tarot and Egyptian themes would be dropped and instead basically all Stands would be musical references that put JJBA as a series into copyright/localization hell ("Foo Fighters", "Metallica", "Bohemian Rhapsody", "Achtung Baby", etc).

Enya Geil in JJBA is an old hag with the Stand "Justice" as named after the 11th tarot. She is an antagonist subordinate to vampire DIO (whose stand is 21st tarot "The World"), and had a son named J. Geil - a serial rapist and murderer whose stand was "The Hanged Man". Enya was also responsible for creating new Stand users with the use of 5 golden arrows that were uncovered by archaeologists in Egypt and had been forged from a meteorite that carried a virus that gives people supernatural abilities.

The first power of Enya's Stand is puppetry - it is a mist that can take control of people by entering their bodies through open wounds. For this reason, Enya's weapon was a pair of scissors which she would use to create wounds ("the formless mother craves wounds"). The second power of the stand is illusions, both for illusory people and places. With these two powers combined, the Stand is capable of manipulating vast hoards of undead through piercing holes in the bones of skeletons and manipulating them as if they were alive while also projecting incredibly realistic (but warped) features of human beings.

The puppetry angle is one of the specific pointers to the Enia of Elden Ring. She communes with the Two Fingers - envoys of the Greater Will who direct ("puppet") the actions of the Golden Order faithful. The Elden Beast is one example of this theme that even the gods of the Lands Between are the puppets of something greater - its nervous system is made of amber starlight such as was brewed in the potion that Seluvis attempted to give to Ranni. Something to point out now is that Elden Ring's Enia does not need to secretly have the same personality and background as Enya Geil of JJBA - no more than either of them are the same person as the real life Irish folk singer Eithne "Enya" Pádraigín Ní Bhraonáin. As far as the Lands Between is concerned these are timeline clues more than characterization clues. It's a different story with Enia's counterpart in the Shadowlands.

Also, an important to note here is that I did not personally identify the connection between "Enia" and "Enya" of JJBA. JoJoWiki has a list of identified references in other media:

References were also noticed in Dark Souls, including another involving Enya:

Enia's position on the Timeline

Enia is styled similar to the Twin Maiden Husks, telegraphing that she also is an ancient mummified creature. Judging by her grandmotherly voice and that all other finger readers are called "crones" it would follow that Enia is also a kind of crone. When I put together the musical timeline of the Round Table Hold previously I had not acknowledged that there may be additional significance to the doorway to the Two Fingers chamber being in between Sagittarius and Capricorn.

Looking at it now, I suspect that this is intended to be the timeline marker for the earliest concept of the Two Fingers. Based on the calibration offered in Armored Core V (in 2012, the year of "The Hanged Man" tarot...), Armored Core (1997) is associated with the zodiac Capricorn.

Like clockwork the general plotline and theming of every following Armored Core entry syncs up with zodiac sequentially, so 1997 is generally what I identify as being the start of the Capricorn zone. Now I would guess that Shadow Tower represents the decision to commit to a zodiac theme in upcoming years as well as sundering of the timeline into two tracks. On the first track there is Armored Core being associated with the "Sun" Tarot after counting backwards from "The Fool" in 2000. On the second tarot track there is "Shadow Tower" (1998) representing "The Tower" tarot.

So that could be what the "Two Fingers" conceptually represent at their most basic layer before being piled with other symbolism. They began as the interweaving of the Armored Core series as the mainline (i.e. "the sun") with all other games being associated with the shadow, which may be characterized as two tarot tracks.

But still, the connection between Enya and Enia is not complete, as the "Justice" tarot is not immediately apparent in these early years. Counting backwards on the Shadow Fate line lands it too early in 1993. I think that there are two keys here: 1) retroactive continuity, and 2) the creation of a third tarot track as prompted by a specific circumstance.

All this time we're talking and sharing our rational view A billion other voices are spreading other news All this time we're living and trying to understand Why a billion other choices are making their demands Talk of a peaceable kingdom Talk of a time without fear The ones we wish would listen Never going to hear Justice against the Hanged Man Knight of Wands against the hour Swords against the kingdom Time against the Tower All this time we're shuffling and laying out all our cards While a billion other dealers are slipping past our guards All this time we're hoping and praying we all might learn While a billion other teachers are teaching them how to burn - from "Peaceable Kingdom" from Vapor Trails (2002) by Rush

The lyrics to the above song were written as a direct response to the terrorist attack on the World Trade Centre on 9/11/2001. Meaning that "The Tower" in the lyrics refers to a very real event. Look into music and movies/tv of that era and numerous artists made art responding to that event. Another notable one that I've stumbled across is progressive rock band Dream Theatre, who had the misfortune of releasing an album on September 11, 2001 showing the NYC skyline on fire (which was swiftly retracted and replaced) and later created the song "Sacrificed Sons" on the 2005 album "Octavarium" in response to the event.

So by the power of retroactive continuity and introduction of the three fingers it is possible to count backwards from "The Tower" in 2001 and arrive at "Justice" in 1996. The twist to this is that it isn't actually Enia who has the greatest narrative similarity to Enya the Hag. It's a third character who exists in the Shadow of the Shadow: Hornsent Grandam.

Hornsent Grandam as the Shadow of Finger Reader Enia

For a brief period of time upon the Shadow of the Erdtree release, the "Hornsent" Grandam was called "Empyrean" Grandam. Empyreans each have their own two fingers that give them instructions. Enia has a pair of Two Fingers giving her instructions. In the Jungian sense, the Shadow is the part of the psyche where undesired qualities are suppressed - like a dark doppelganger. So while Finger Reader Enia's resemblance to a JJBA character is superficial at best, Hornsent Grandam is what results from making a much deeper reference that manages to fly under the radar simply by avoiding any word association with her name.

Hornsent Grandam brings in a few elements that are similar to JJBA's Enya. Hornsent Grandam is more belligerent than Enia, and her face is flanked by two braids that echo the design of Enya the Hag who has two pigtails, she calls herself "this old hag" and she speaks of singing which goes all the way back to the singer Enya. She presides over the puppet show of the Dancing Lion and has a son who she is supportive of, which both have parallels in the JJBA Enya. Hornsent Grandam's son is either deceased (if it is implied that the "Watchful Spirit" is her son, as she hands that over in the same conversation), or is literally the Hornsent who is one of Miquella's followers (as he is actually summonable to the Messmer fight). She wishes vengeance against Messmer who has betrayed her, similar to how JJBA Enya was betrayed by DIO who implanted a flesh bud in her brain that activated when she was captured and it erupted from her face and eyeballs in wormlike strings (chapter link here). The flesh bud thing is one of DIO's vampire abilities, and Messmer "The Impaler" has that vampire allusion to him. Compare this to the wormy looking horns protruding from the eyes and forehead area of Hornsent Grandam.

And then lastly, to tie the Hornsent Grandam back to the dawn of history there is the scorpion stew connection. Scorpions are found in Belurat and they are found in Rauh.

Armored Core: Project Phantasma is a prequel as verified by the story taking place in the year ED 0156, which is two years before the timeframe of Armored Core (1997) in ED 0158. Three context clues place it as zodiac Scorpio:

1) As previously noted, the Armored Core zodiac starts on Capricorn. Two years before = two signs before = Scorpio.

2) The enemy type with a body plan of a Scorpion (it shoots projectile attacks from its tail)

3) German hard rock band, "the Scorpions" released album "Taken by Force" on December 4, 1977, which was the same calendar day as the release of Armored Core: Project Phantasma (December 4, 1997). Something particularly attractive about this album release date is that the number "4" or "shi" in Japanese has associations with death, and so does the cover of the album. Of the Scorpions 18 other albums, there are 3 others that match dates with various FromSoftware games (which is a story for another day).

For 8 years before King's Field, FromSoftware was a company developing business productivity tools for PC. As the Scorpions are eaten, that 8 years of expertise was cannibalized and redirected into forging a new identity as a videogame developer. I think that's more or less what Rauh represents - an era of relative benign, peaceful and productive existence before being stepping into the drama that is the videogame development cycle. In the Japanese phonetics for "Rauh" it is spelled "Raufu", which is a Swahili word borrowed from the Arabic "Rauf". It means "gentle" or "kind".

Conclusion

"Mine eyes are oft apt to glaze over �� the years are toking their toll, 'tis plain to see. Even telling dream from reality…is a task increasingly beyond me…" - Final dialogue of Hornsent Grandam

One of the main themes of the DLC is that dreams are taking over reality. In a meta sense this is exactly what is experienced when playing the Shadow of the Erdtree DLC - previous knowledge is being overwritten by the new information revealed in the DLC. This is deceptive, as the reality inside the mindscape of the cocoon is a heavily doctored version of the reality of the Lands Between. It's biased towards pessimistic and paranoia-tinged/emotion-driven interpretations.

In a way, it is demonstrating trope overdose. Characters in the story are reduced to mythological references like Freyja and Ymir, or to manga references like Enia's surface comparison to JJBA's Enya. Comparisons were made between Miquella and Griffith based on not much more than the aesthetic of a fair haired effeminate male character with a hint of sinister manipulation and association with an eclipse - the DLC complied by presenting a version of Miquella that is suddenly Griffith levels of megalomania with none of the on-screen character development. An observation that I have seen made about the Frenzy Flame and the Three Fingers is that they remove the ability to see differences. Forming a theory that a certain character was inspired by another character based on superficial similarity cannot be the end of interpretation - characters need to be evaluated on their own unique psychology as developed in their own context.

The trouble with relying too heavily on references to previous literary canon is that all of the missteps of previous generations are implied to be inherited as well. It is in fact not a societal good to be propagating the tropes that women in positions of power and men who don't meet restrictive standards of masculinity are untrustworthy. A trope so deeply ingrained that someone like Ranni gets accused of being sinister and manipulative despite being one of the most blunt, forthcoming, and rational characters in the game.

Telling the difference between what is true and not true is complicated by the Lands Between being itself a fictional universe. And yet, this is also a phenomena seen in the real world, where fictional media - from movies to comics to books to music - reinforces cultural stereotypes and misinformation that people propagate uncritically. Even historical fiction elevates individuals to the positions of "hero" and "villain" as a flattening of real-life people which has the effect of creating the false impression that society is built on the efforts of magically successful individuals. Rather than the reality where improvements to quality of life are a collective effort and require both constant maintenance and a working understanding of all of the interconnected processes that allow our current civilization to function.

Regardless, the only viable answer in both the Lands Between and in real life for the question of how to sort fact and fiction is to make a personal effort to understand the rules of the universe. In the real world, this would be gaining knowledge of physics, plant biology, ecosystems, how various types of complex objects are manufactured from base elemental components, etc. In the Lands Between, this is through gaining knowledge of all of the above in addition to the magic systems and narrative rules that underlie characters' perceptions of their own history: tarot/alchemy, astrology, chakras, music and poetry, pseudo-archaeology, mythology, etc.

[lieutenantselnia]

I randomly felt like watching this edit again and ohh ... the feelings😭😭 This video basically carried me through my last semester and final exams at high school, I literally watched it multiple times every day (I swear a couple hundred views are from me alone), on the bus ride to school in the morning, when I got home again, before going to bed, just in between because I felt like it ... Internally I wasn't doing that well at the time, and it just brought me so much comfort. Also I'm pretty sure it plays a significant role in how I fell more and more in love with 2nd Dimension Heinz💕 This edit just means so much to me and I love it so much <3

[arcadekitten]

how would you feel if someone like matpat made a theory on your game series?

matthew patthew

I guess where I stand right now is I feel like...indifferent I suppose? Just as long as people don't treat a theory like it IS canon before I've said or done anything or finished whatever I'm working on

[dannyphannypack]

Happy Holiday Truce @ghozteevee !

I'm so sorry about the wait! I'd say the holidays got away from me, but I think procrastination is pretty true-to-form for me. Something I'll definitely work on in the New Year. I really hope it's still January 3rd for you!

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this little story <3 I took some inspo from two of your prompts: post identity reveal family outing and sibling bonding. The sibling bonding is in the first quarter or so, the parental bonding is in the last bit. Also, the conclusion definitely ran away from me! Very Brother Bear vibes up in here. I hope that's okay!

Enjoy! :3

Word Count: 3280

Danny gasped awake with a shiver, barely catching the green of his eyes as it caught on the shiny, canvassed ceiling of their tent. His breath fogged in front of him, visible in the quickly dimming glow. It served as a warning of what he already knew had awoken him, but it was nice to get the confirmation anyway: there was a ghost nearby.

He rubbed the crust from his eyes as he allowed his brain time to wake up the rest of the way. The good news was that it didn’t feel like anything overly powerful. The bad news was that if it tripped his Ghost Sense, then it was powerful enough—and more than likely causing havoc, because it was clearly feeling some big emotions and those emotions usually amounted to some brand of anger. It also felt distinctly feral, and given their locale, it was safe to bet it was an animal spirit of some kind. Those could be especially unpredictable, and he wasn’t in the mood.

Danny looked over at the sleeping bag where his sister slept—seeing in the dark hadn’t been a problem for a long time, with or without the aid of glowing eyes—and he watched the slow rise and fall of her chest as she quietly snored. Now, whether or not to wake her was the question. The Ghost Assault Vehicle would be the safest place for her if things went haywire, but undoubtedly she’d be worried and clingy and want to help, which he also wasn’t in the mood for.

Ultimately, though, safety overruled whatever annoying sibling feelings she might stir up. Danny dislodged himself from his own sleeping bag and crawled across the floor to her, the waterproof fabric beneath him making rustling noises all the way.

“Psst,” he whispered, setting a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Jazz.”

“Whazzat?” she asked, jerking. “Danny?”

“Hey. There’s a ghost.”

Her eyes blew open. “Like, here? Now?”

Yeah, maybe he could’ve handled that better. “Not yet,” he amended. “But I’m heading out. You should probably get in the Gav, just in case.”

“The G-A-V, Danny, not the ‘Gav.’” It was an old argument, one they hadn’t really argued over in years. Danny figured that Jazz probably found it endearing now that she was out of the house and missing him for most of the year. She sighed as she sat up and reached for the ground, hands fumbling towards her glasses. “You’re going alone? At least tell Mom and Dad first. And help me with a light, please.”

Danny summoned a ball of ectoplasm and sent it floating up towards the domed ceiling, where it lit the whole tent in a dim, soft blue. He grimaced. “I was kind of hoping you’d do that.”

Danny’s parents had been informed of his little secret only a week ago, and all-in-all it had gone down pretty well. The timing had been strategic, of course; Danny was going off to college at the end of the summer, and his parents needed to know why their newest ghostly ally would be disappearing from Amity for the entire school year (barring holidays and emergencies, if all went well). Going to college was a failsafe he knew he hadn’t needed, but wanted anyway—seeing alternate timelines where his parents were accepting of his after-school activities was very different from actually experiencing it in his own, after all. They’d reacted much as expected, though. Surprised. Excited. Sad. Guilt-stricken.

Jazz looked at him with something that bordered on pity, and it made him squirm. “I can if that’s what you really want, Danny,” she allowed. “But you know why I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Okay, no need to get all mopey about it,” Danny deflected, clambering up to his knees (the tent wasn’t tall enough to stand, which kind of put a damper on his whole ‘stoic’ front. Not that he’d admit that). “It just…still feels weird. But I can do it!”

Jazz raised her hands in fake surrender and fought a smile. “Yeah, yeah, you’re a big boy now, I got it.” She unzipped her sleeping bag and cast the cover aside. “I’ll go hide. Though…if it’s big enough that you needed to wake us up, maybe you should do more than just let them know.”

“Like?” Danny asked, just to be obstinate. He knew what Jazz was hinting at.

Jazz rolled her eyes. “Like ask for help, you big dummy.”

Danny sighed. It’d be the first time working with them since…“I don’t know if we’re at that level yet, Jazz.”

“You were before you told them,” Jazz pointed out with a raised brow.

“It’s different,” he stressed.

“Okay, well, different or not, you need to tell them you’re leaving, at the very least.” Jazz crawled over her sleeping bag towards the door and unzipped it with a practiced, fluid motion. “After you,” she said with a dramatic gesture towards the dark campfire and forest beyond.

Danny grumbled as he passed, and once out of the threshold he let the ectoplasmic ball lighting the inside of the tent wink out, just to hear Jazz’s indignant “Hey!” from behind him. Seconds later he heard (and saw) her flashlight click on behind him; ectoplasm-powered and too big for its own good, Danny was sure that thing created its own light pollution. He refused to use it on principle.

Danny walked the short trek to his parents’ tent and crouched to get the zipper, deciding against intangibility just in case one of his parents was awake enough to notice a shadowy silhouette phase through the wall. On the other side, Jack snored with the force of a train engine; Danny could swear it was rattling the zipper out of his hands as he fumbled with it.

The inside was dark, but Jazz’s flashlight outside cast long shadows across the floor. Danny moved out of the way so that the light could hit his parent’s faces; Danny knew his mother would have in ear plugs, so this was really the only safe way of waking her beyond shaking, which Danny knew from experience could be…startling, sometimes.

He watched her brows furrow before her eyes squinted open. She rubbed at her eyes with one hand and took an ear plug out with the other. “Danny? What happened?”

“Um, there’s a ghost,” Danny said (muttered, more like). “I was gonna go—”

“Hold on, I can’t hear you,” Maddie said, turning to shake her husband. “Jack, wake up. Danny needs something.”

“Whazzat?” Jack yelled, in much the same way as Jazz. Like father, like daughter. “What happened?”

“Uh,” Danny said, feeling tenser now with both their attentions on him. “There’s a ghost.” He pointed north. “Half a mile that way, maybe. Getting closer. I was gonna go deal with it, but I told Jazz to get in the RV just in case.”

Maddie frowned. “You were gonna go deal with it? By yourself?”

Danny glanced behind him, where Jazz was giving him a thumbs up from across the campsite. “Um, no,” he lied, turning back around. “You guys can come. If you want. You don’t have to.”

“Of course we want to, Danno!” Jack shouted. He had positively lit up, like grogginess wasn’t and had never been an issue for him. “I’ll go get the Fenton Grappler!”

“Do you know what kind of ghost it is, sweetie?” Maddie asked, still watching him. “What equipment do we need to bring?”

Danny hadn’t thought that far ahead. “It’s an animal, I think. It feels pretty feral. It’s not that strong, either, but—”

“Animal spirits can be unpredictable,” Maddie said, echoing Danny’s earlier considerations. “Alright, we’ll bring the capturing gear.” She paused. “If…that’s okay?”

Danny almost laughed; he’d never heard his mom sound so unsure when it came to ghost hunting. “That sounds good, Mom,” he said. “I’ll go get my boots on.”

— — —

Danny led the way through the timber with his parents, feeling a little silly in human form but unwilling to change nonetheless. It was nice to walk, sometimes, even when flying would be quicker and less taxing. And he could pass his feet intangibly through those pesky fallen branches and thorny bushes, so really it wasn’t all that worse than strolling down an Amity sidewalk. There was, he told himself, no other reason he might want to stay human in this scenario. He certainly wouldn’t feel uncomfortable otherwise.

“Are we getting close, honey?” Maddie asked after helping Jack over a rotted trunk.

The irony wasn’t lost on Danny; he’d asked the same question on the RV ride there. He felt around in his chest, feeling for the speed at which his core buzzed it’s steady warning, the strength of the tug. “Nearly there,” he promised.

“That’s a real neat trick, Danny-boy,” Jack praised. Danny could hear the smile in his voice. “You know, I always wondered how Phantom heard wind of a ghost faster than we did. Didn’t I, Mads?”

Danny kicked at some dead leaves and sticks at the ground, embarrassed. “That ghost alarm you guys developed works similarly. It maybe doesn’t have quite the range, though.”

Maddie hummed, contemplating. “And that’s what woke you up tonight?”

“Yeah.”

Maddie reached out to set her hand on his shoulder, stopping him. He closed his eyes before he turned to face her, bracing. If he hadn’t caught on to the concern in her voice before, he was definitely feeling it now. “How often do ghosts wake you up?” she asked, quiet.

Danny opened his mouth to lie and then thought better of it. That was a habit he was determined to break with his family, whether they’d like the answer or not. “Once or twice a night,” he admitted, slowly. When Maddie made a pained noise, he quickly added, “Usually it’s nothing to worry about, though, so I just go back to sleep. Like, at least half the time.”

She bit her lip. Guilty. “You shouldn’t have had to deal with that, hun.”

“Can we not do this?” Danny pleaded. These were the kind of conversations he’d been trying to avoid for the past week. “It’s my fault for not telling you guys, not your fault for not noticing.”

“We know that’s how you feel, Danny,” his mom allowed. She shared a glance with Jack from over her shoulder. “But we can’t help but feel like some of that lies on us, too. For noticing the clues but not acting on them in the ways we should have.”

“We want to know now, though,” Jack said, coming up behind his wife. “Warts and all.”

“Is this an intervention?” Danny asked, nervous. It felt like his core was constricting in his chest. “Because I get enough of that from Jazz.”

“It’s not an intervention,” his mom denied, pinching the bridge of her nose. “It’s just…Why haven’t you turned into Phantom yet, Danny?”

Danny wasn’t sure if he heard that right. It felt like the conversation had spun 180. “What?” he asked.

“This isn’t exactly an easy hike, sweetie,” she said. “Mostly uphill, through brambles and across fallen trees.”

“It’s been fine,” he argued. “I’ve been phasing through most of it.”

“If we were Tucker or Sam, you would have flown us there,” Maddie finished, and, well, he couldn’t deny that logic. “So why haven’t you?”

Danny frowned. “I didn’t think we were at that stage yet.”

“We’re not on a date, Danny; we’re your parents,” she sighed, shaking her head. “There is nothing you could do that would make me stop loving you. I changed your diapers; I should know.”

Danny frowned. If she had said that two weeks ago, before they’d known, he might not have believed her. He did believe her this time, but it was marred by something else—this aching, squeezing feeling in his chest, riddling his core with fear and anxiety and confusion and—

Oh. That wasn’t from him.

“Look out!” Danny yelled, grabbing hold of his parents and shoving them to the ground. His shield came up just in time: a glowing black bear, absolutely massive for its species, came barreling down upon it, scratching and growling and baring sharp, sharp teeth with saber-toothed tiger levels of length. He flinched against its strength but held steady, keeping his hands in front of him to feed ectoplasm into the bubble that surrounded them.

Perhaps realizing that its efforts were futile, the bear backed away, roared once in warning, and then took off running in the opposite direction, taking a moment to pause awkwardly at a hollowed tree stump before disappearing over the hill.

“Okay,” Danny breathed, allowing the shield to dissipate. There was that conversation out the window. He was almost grateful for it; he’d always been better at fighting than he was at talking, and staying human during this battle was quickly becoming a moot point, anyhow. “Alright, here’s the plan: you guys follow from back here, and I’ll fly up and cut it off from the front. Sound good?”

He was about to run off then, but Maddie grabbed his chin and twisted him to face her. Her eyes scanned over him faster than Danny could even blink, checking for injuries at a near-inhuman speed. 

Once he got over his shock at being grabbed, he started to squirm. “Mom, stop. I’m fine,” he murmured, trying to turn away to hide the way embarrassment was quickly flooding his cheeks with red.

Once satisfied, Maddie nodded and placed a chaste kiss to his forehead. “Be safe,” she commanded in a no-nonsense voice, like he’d be grounded for a week if he came back injured. Then, she finally let him go.

“You too,” he said, turning away. Squeezing his eyes shut, he transformed—focusing on the way his core bloomed outward instead of the stares on his back—and took off into the air.

Going on a bear hunt. He was sure there was a kid’s song about that.

Danny followed the tug in his gut from the sky; it was even stronger now that he’d transformed and they’d gotten…acquainted, for lack of a better word. He couldn’t shake that weird anxious worry in his gut—the one that seemed to be emanating from the bear in waves—but he could fight through it, and that’s what mattered.

Animal spirits were all instinct and emotion, wrapped up into something tight and cohesive that ectoplasm wouldn’t have trouble latching onto. Usually that something was governed by anger, which, as far as Danny knew, was the strongest emotion in a living animal’s arsenal. Human spirits could end up governed by that too, but there was more nuance to the reasoning behind anger with a person: jealousy, revenge, even loneliness could rearrange into different flavors of the same base emotion. It was easier to assuage because of its complicatedness; when there was a direct physical link to someone’s anger, there was something to solve.

It was more difficult to get angry animal spirits to move on. They were angry at everything and nothing all at once. The whole world fueled their anger, and so there was little that could calm them down.

Fear, though…He’d never met an animal spirit governed by fear, or worry, or whatever anxious instinct this bear’s ectoplasm was releasing. Maybe he could turn this into a happy ending, for both him and the bear. He hoped he could, anyway.

Danny dived down in front of it, and from the way it twisted backwards and picked up its pace in the direction opposite of him (the direction towards his parents), it seemed the bear could sense him, too. He went intangible and picked up the pace, letting trees and leaves fly through him at a dizzying pace. Finally, the forest opened into a little clearing, and Danny threw up a green wall at the end of it, where the bear was trying to escape. It skid to a halt so fast it left deep gashes in the dirt, dropped something fuzzy and black from its mouth, and turned to face him.

Danny froze. There, curled beneath the ghost bear’s legs, was a single cub. It peered out from behind her, oblivious to the danger and curious as to the reason for their night’s interruption. More importantly, it did not glow like it’s mother. It was still alive.

Mother Bear growled a warning at the same time Danny’s parents started crashing through the brush nearest her. “Stop!” he shouted out, holding out a hand despite his parents not being able to see him. “Uh, stand down!”

“Danny?” His dad called. “What’s going on?”

Mother Bear was looking increasingly frantic. Panicking a little himself—whether from the emotions that he was accidentally leaching off her or the situation, he wasn’t sure—Danny made a split-second decision and thrust a dome over the top of her and her cub. It would shield them from any sudden bear attacks, true, but it also served as makeshift protection from any Fenton weaponry.

He trusted his parents not to shoot him. He wasn’t sure if he trusted them not to shoot Mother Bear.

“It’s safe now!” Danny called to his parents. “Um, leave your guns outside the clearing! And walk slowly!”

Danny was almost surprised to hear them listening. He didn’t know why. He had to stop doubting them.

“Oh,” Maddie said when she breached the tree line. Mother Bear rotated to face her and Jack as they stepped out, gnashing her too-long teeth and backing further over her cub to put it safely beneath her belly. It peeked out from beneath her paws. “It’s…a mother.”

She sounded shocked. Danny concurred.

“Come over here,” Danny told his parents. “Behind me. I’m gonna try something.”

He stepped forward as his parents came around the dome. Mother Bear watched them walk until they’d settled behind Danny, and already he could feel that fear worry stress easing, just from having all potential predators in-sight instead of surrounding her.

“Danny,” Maddie warned when he took another step forward. “Bears are extremely protective of their young.”

“I know,” Danny murmured, keeping his voice low. He inched forward, getting lower to the ground as he walked. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Mother Bear snarled statically, touching on Ghost Speak but unable to form full coherence. Worry, is what Danny was able to read from it. Worry. Baby. Danger.

Danny switched tactics, changing to Ghost Speak as he set his hands gently against the wall of the dome, emanating as many calming emotions as he could summon. Calm. Safe.

She flinched, but her teeth were shortening, growing less sharp. Baby Bear yawned beneath her, a kind of squeaking hum. Almost like a puppy. Like Cujo, maybe.

Calm. Safe. Danny promised, at the same time voicing sentences in English above the Ghost Speak’s static: “It’s okay. You’re safe. I won’t hurt you. I won’t hurt him. You can let go. I’ll protect him. It’s alright.”

Mother Bear swayed, grew smaller. Promise. She growled. Staticked. No-nonsense voice. 

Promise. Danny responded.

Baby Bear nuzzled into Mother Bear, and she licked at his cheek as her body grew brighter and began dissipating, moving on. Baby Bear purred and purred.

She looked at Danny. Looked behind him, where his parents stood. Mother? she asked. With the emotions clogging her speech finally gone, he could actually understand her.

Danny nodded. “Yeah. That’s my Mom.”

Good. Mother Bear hummed, closing her eyes. Safe.

She disappeared, her glowing green fragments scattering on the wind.

Danny turned around to face his parents, and for the first time noticed that they were both crying. That was okay. He was crying, too.

He cleared his throat. “So. Anyway. Where’s the nearest Animal Sanctuary?”

[riomarks]

I understand why riordan made new rome have a child army because percy needed to integrate among peers for the sake of Plot and Character but it would have been more impactful to go from a camp where the average age was 14 (similar age to achilles at the start of the trojan war, supposedly) and the culture surrounding aging is the same as mayflies and the persuit of individual glory

To new rome where the average recruit is between 18-22 years old (like actual ancient roman legionnaires), expected to serve for 10 years before retirement where 'real life' begins and any glory earned is for the collective glory of rome.

Imagine veteran war leader, saviour of olympus percy jackson turning up to camp jupiter and everyone just sees a traumatised child. Maybe percy does still join the legion at 17, a year early because of his experience or maybe he's in a foster home in the city for a year before being a recuit and comes to learn the roman way of life, the community outside of its military, maybe it would actually trigger a loyalty in him that strengthens the ties between camps or creates a meaningful internal and philosophical conflict thats not based on percy, the bitter and jaded child soldier, supporting a literal child army bc yay university!

[lazzarella]

Well, The Paradise of Thorns was a wild ride. I think I’m feeling kind of shellshocked. All I can say right now is the acting was incredible across the board, the score is beautiful and it looked stunning. And it left me stunned XD

Might say more later when I’ve digested it, but I kind of suck at writing about movies, so this will probably be it, as vague and pointless as it is

But I definitely liked it! Just, you know, need to process it a little more

[sskk-manifesto]

Ep 4 :)

[tokutaiseichan]

i know i said Haku is the most suspicious but that doesn't mean i don't have other suspects in my mind. anyway! here's my list of spy suspects → 1) Haku 2) Rui 3) Tohma

if you let me go even more wild with my ass-theories, i'd say even Kaito can be a spy candidates if the writers are into the whole "guy who spents more than half of the story being a cowardly underdog is actually super smart and works for the enemies" trope.

or Haru if they're into the "shady fox eyes" trope.

(※ don't take this seriously, they don't call me Detective Reaching #2 for nothing)

[lord-squiggletits]

One TF fandom argument that confuses me is when people put Megatron and Starscream versus each other like, when people say that it's "unfair that Megatron gets redemption but Starscream doesn't" (in regards to IDW1) because like. One, IDW1 in phase 2 was written by like 4 different writers, so you can't try to claim that there was some unified vision where the nonexistent Singular Writer of IDW was like "no Starscream isn't allowed to have nice things."

And second, I don't think the writers would even think of it that way? It's not like the writers were like "okay we have one Get Out Of Jail Free Card and we're going to spend it on Megatron, sorry Starscream maybe in the next reboot you can get it." The divisions fans make between X character likers and Y character likers are completely made up fandom drama and sometimes I feel like people don't understand that the writers aren't privy to fandom infighting/drama and wouldn't write Megatron and Starscream in opposition to each other as if one character's gain must come at the other's expense.

And finally............. IDW1 Starscream literally does get to be portrayed as a more morally gray person, have his feelings shown and treated as human, even make some friends/have people treat him nicely? IDK what fucking comics people are reading where they think that Starscream is treated as an evil villain with no redeeming qualities at all. Maybe it's the same Starscream fans who shit on TAAO/Scott or something, that's the only way I could explain it.

[lavenderjewels]

my only general predictions for jjk is that Yuuji will be able to target the different souls in Sukuna’s body to be able to reach Megumi’s suppressed soul and attack sukuna’s. Im actually interested in how this will all go down, especially with Higuruma in the mix, since these fights can’t be as simple as two overpowered characters with the loss of multiple special grade sorcerers. With the potential of a court trial domain or Yuuji’s knowledge of the soul, I imagine it’ll become more psychological or metaphysical in the fighting, with a lot of good insight into sukuna and/or yuuji, megumi, etc. As for Kenjaku, I have NO idea where their story is going (apart from Yuuta wanting to kill them), but i enjoy that part of the story being unpredictable—it fits their character

[acourtofquestions]

Why I’m currently mad at Chaol:

… buckle up folks; these ever-changing opinions (started with the Rowan rollercoaster) & are now about to go off the roads (much like Queen of Shadows seems to be preparing me for)…

Honestly, I think I am angrier with him than I was with Rowan. Maybe cause I’m slightly bitter because I did love him (maybe I still do… we shall see) but that came first, so there was a character more than the initial arguments — but even more so because she loved him, and he did love her; it makes it worse — Rowan at least didn’t know her; yes, it made him seem more unjust in his cruelty & anger, it was clearly far more assumption based & projection, but despite how well he managed to know her (& use it to hit where it hurt) he didn’t really know her (not yet, not in the same way). Meanwhile, Chaol KNOWS her & she trusted him; more than almost anyone or “entrusted” (maybe as the better term); giving him her identity after 10 years TEN YEARS on the run she told him.

And when he said those words it was pointed to the fact of knowing her, hurtful in a way only he could be; knowing not only her, but her past, her trauma, her grief, and saying all of it to spite those things; to hurt her. I at least don’t think Rowan wanted to hurt her; he was willing to, he was aware of the bruises he left but with the end goal was not suffering, he wanted to help. Chaol was angry over some petty claim to a broken heart, angry at himself & unable to admit it, angry at her for so many held tallies & mistakes against her, he leaves so much unforgiven & carries such a grudge. He is unwilling to admit to the parts he plays & willing to hurt her for the sake of his anger, regardless of the price; one she will be paying instead. The way he blatantly disregards her; her name, her ideas, her love, her family, her grief, her fear, her… everything; the good she did, the bad he did, what parts they both played. It’s not acceptable.

Not After everything… perhaps one could say it’s because of everything… but it’s just unacceptable. And though there is no “just” nor excuse in trauma; it’s not a competition; he, however, has no reason within it. I’m sorry, but your broken heart is not the same as hers, your year is not the same, you know nothing of duty & horror & guilt & grief; of monsters, & love, & tragedy. And though he has kept his hands mostly clean, he has been privileged; that’s not to say she hasn’t chosen wrongly, she has decided to bloody her hands in wrong ways time & time again. There is no changing that, but she also has not had many choices in her life & the ones she had she made right. She tried to spare you of so much even after & in her own fury over Nehemia… and you just threw her to the wolves like that; just. like. that.

All of this; intent, uneven, ignorant, cruel, small mindedness… it’s shifted into something more menacing; & dare I say tinged with misogyny? His system of; she is erratic, emotional, hysterical, uncontrollable, manipulative, selfish, unpredictable, “monster” thought process of a “tyrant queen”… Not to mention the further concerning growing edge of prejudice; his love & his fear for his friends, his lack of knowledge & blissful ignorance of privilege, has all instead shifted into a “holier than thou” it’s all of them thought process. A belief system built on eliminating danger, on singular right without wrong; dangerously capable justifications & a start to ruin; not just for her, or him, but the world.