#Why‚ they're insignificant‚ of course. Why else?

[tvntheatre]

Convincing...

While I really do love imagining scenarios for my OCs I really should progress their stories if I want to get anywhere... jee

Front Street lyrics my beloathed. Have close-ups (+unblurred) because my suffering over the cross-hatching must be known.

[love-byers]

if mlvn is supposed to be the main romance of the show, the no. 1 couple, why would the writers save their big i love you moment for a scene where there is so much distraction

there is so much going on here. el choking, mike shifting around and hesitating, will in the background, light flickering, multiple cuts to jonathan and argyle

and then of course the fact that el is in vecnas mind space which is visually displeasing. it's red, bloody looking, thunder is crashing, the vines are squelching, el is crying, max is dying, and also the depressing music conveniently titled "You're The Heart."

there is SO MUCH HAPPENING!! this moment is supposed to be about el and mike, but it couldn't be farther from that.

and for people saying "well that's just what was happening in the moment!", this isnt real life. the story can be literally whatever the duffers want it to be. they could've written the scene differently so there was more tenderness, intimacy, gentleness, emotion. they could've found time for mike and el to have a sweet moment to themselves where he apologizes, and then when el is choking she simply remembers that moment and all of her memories with mike over the years. but nope, it just had to be the other way.

this scene is an example of exactly how to create intimacy between 2 characters in a scene with multiple other people. they made sure to do it a specific way to build will and mike's relationship.

when joyce is talking to will, jonathan is standing in the background for most of it. they also cut to mike and hopper watching. we are reminded there are others in the shed. they cut to will multiple times as joyce talks.

this next thing may sound insignificant, but it's not. they cut to jonathan BEFORE he starts speaking. he watches will for a second, then starts talking about the day lonnie left. then it immediately cuts to joyce, before cutting back to jonathan kneeling down in front of will. as jonathan talks there are shots of just jonathan, jonathan and joyce, and will listening.

they saved mikes for last. every writer knows whatever comes last will have the most impact.

when mike starts speaking, will is still looking at jonathan. wills head shoots towards mike. only after that do we see mike, and he's already crying.

they don't cut away from mike until he says "you were just swinging by yourself" it cuts to will then. then we're back to mike, and it doesn't cut until he's done talking.

there's no music, no flickering, no one else making noise or talking. there's no noise besides mike speaking, will breathing, and crickets outside. it sounds oxymoronic to say this, but the crickets only emphasize how silent it is in the shed besides mike. it's so silent and calm in there that you can hear the crickets. you can barely see anything behind mike, it's just his face illuminated by the light. mike isn't yelling, he's talking softly. this is gentle. intimate.

then it cuts back to will, and he looks more emotional than he has this whole time they've been trying to break through to him. his eyes are red and glossy, his breaths are shuddering as he looks at mike, like he's about to break and cry.

when it cuts to joyce, it's jarring. it tears wills eyes from mike. because at this point we've completely forgotten that there are other people in the room. it's like mike and will are in their own little bubble, like they're the only two people in the world. go and rewatch the full scene, its striking how different mikes monologue to will is shot compared to the others. it suddenly feels so much more intimate and emotionally intense.

and it doesn't, not for a SECOND, lead you to believe mike is hesitant or struggling to tell the truth. it's like the words are spilling straight out of mikes heart into will's. he does not have to be pushed into this or encouraged. the moment jonathan was done talking mike knew exactly what he wanted to say, and he was already so emotional he was crying.

it's coming from him. from his heart.

looking at joyce

looking at jonathan

looking at mike.

and to any deniers here saying all of this is just because of wills feelings for mike..

that's cruel.

that's actually cruel.

it would be DIABOLICAL for the writers to give byler such a sweet emotional moment like this just for it to end in a character who's already on the struggle bus being completely heartbroken. that is straight up cruel to will.

and it would also be queerbaiting lolz

and before you go, quick question. can you imagine THIS mike avoiding wills hug?

i highly doubt it.

[mt-oe]

𝘾𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙖𝙨 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝘼𝙧𝙚—bandmate mizu hcs

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Hey dears!

I've been listening to an old playlist I made when I still had time to listen to various genres of music and nostalgia hit me in such a good way.

Hope that you will find much fun in these headcanons as much as I had fun writing them <3

Enjoy! Mwa mwa :*

warnings: not proofread, she/her for mizu, implied afab reader

note/s: manager reader; mizu has a crush on you

✦ She plays both electric guitar and bass. She'd be sporting a white Epiphone 1961 Les Paul SG Standard, a graduation gift from her step father. Since it had so much sentimental value to her, she never really got around to replacing it. But when she got her first job, she spent the first few months saving up for her bass which was a Fender American Performer Mustang Bass.

You'll never see her in the studio without it. She even keeps it by her side when everyone's taking a small snack break. It's like they're her babies.

One time Taigen tried playing with it while Mizu was in the restroom and everyone was surprised at how fast she came out of the comfort room to smack him on the head with a force so heavy the smack sound echoed around. With that incident, everyone knew not to touch her instruments.

✦ Dresses up either in the typical oversized shirt and baggy pants...or like Kurt Cobain. You cannot change my mind. End of conversation.

✦ Mizu would be the type of member who has argued or fought with every one at least once. It didn't matter how insignificant the issue was. If she didn't like what she saw or what was happening, she doesn't hesitate to speak up about it. This, of course, led to arguments and fights that you often had to mediate.

Why you? It's because she never really listens to anyone else. If anyone else broke up the fight, she'd fight with them as well.

"Mizu," you sighed out, crossing your arms and staring at her with an unamused look.

When you arrived at the studio, Ringo had immediately informed you that Mizu and Akemi were arguing yet again. The atmosphere inside was so thick, you could probably cut it with a knife. This led you to pulling Mizu out of band practice to have a talk with her.

She leaned against the wall, crossing her arms back. Her head was turned towards another direction, not really able to look at you. "It's her damn fault. Her and her old man," she simply replied, making you sigh yet again.

"I know you're annoyed at her dad for interrupting our practice again but you know you can't argue with Akemi all the time," you responded, unfolding your arms and placing a hand on her shoulder. "We need both of you in this band, y'know?"

Her body tensed up slightly when she felt your hand make contact with her shoulder, a blush forming on her cheeks ever so slightly. Fuck you're so cute. She glanced at you before pushing herself off of the wall, rubbing a hand over her face, seemingly annoyed. "Fine, fine. I'll apologize," she grumbled

You smiled at her, making her glance at you again. "Thanks, Mizu."

When both of you returned inside, she immediately apologized to Akemi like a brat who was scolded. But Mizu knew she'd argue with Akemi again the next time her dad barges in the studio. She's just trying to please you for now.

✦ If she isn't playing, she'll be sitting all by herself, researching about where to buy instruments and paraphernalia or watching recordings of another band's recent gig. Ringo would often join her when he spots her. His sudden appearance often makes her jump. At first, it would just be Ringo talking about his day, then what he ate, then the new songs he discovered from the smart shuffle feature of Spotify to which Mizu would either respond by not saying anything or just nodding.

When Ringo spots her looking for better instruments, he'll start talking about second-hand equipment and old but gold repair shops. Although it seems like Mizu isn't listening to him, you'll spot her checking the seller's profile or going to the shop itself on her free time even if she had no intention in buying anything.

✦ Has the most random playlist among everyone in the band. While everyone had a main genre they stuck to, such as Taigen with grunge, Akemi with pop, and Ringo with country, Mizu just listens to whatever. As long as it sounds good, she adds it to her playlist.

And mind you, she just dumps all the songs in ONE playlist.

You tried listening to it once and hearing AC/DC's Back in Black after listening to Twice's TT followed by bouquet by Ichiko Aoba was not something you'd expect to hear in that order.

She gets embarrassed when she finds out you listened to her playlist but doesn't make it obvious. The next time you look at her profile, you'll find a playlist named "you, it's always you" and it's just filled with love songs and songs about having a crush.

✦ Along with the previous, their opponents during battle of the bands competitions often underestimate her. The other competitors would be so confused because why is this dude listening to Tchaikovsky backstage instead of practicing his rifts?

Mizu was simply chilling backstage, earphones in, listening to her random ass playlist again when a shadow looms over her. She looks up and sees Akemi, staring at her and saying something she could not hear.

She removes an earbud, raising an eyebrow at their vocalist in a seemingly annoyed manner. "Your music is too loud. We can hear it from the dressing room," Akemi points out, crossing her arms. She leans forward and looks at Mizu's phone before letting out an amused huff. "Don't you think listening to Hamilton before the competition is a bit weird?" she asks with a smirk.

The other bands sitting around and eavesdropping on the two whispered, glancing at them. Hamilton? Really? Before a battle of the bands competition? Bud is already throwing away his shot, they thought.

The guitarist simply grunts at her, shrugging her shoulders at her. "This is none of your business. Go warm up or something," she replies before putting her earbud back in and closing her eyes as she leaned back against the chair. Akemi rolled her eyes before walking off, probably to find the rest of the band.

When they get up on stage, everybody already thinks the guitarist doesn't know shit. But man, the look on everyone's faces when she starts playing Chopsuey? Goddamn.

Goddamn.

✦ Unlike the others members, she doesn't actively try to build connections with other bands. Once the competition is over, everyone except Mizu is out their mingling with other bands. You're out there talking with your fellow managers, Ringo is talking about food with the other bands for some reason, and Taigen is out there attracting the other women which leads to Akemi dragging him by the ear. Mizu is just...there.

She finds interacting with other people unnecessary. She also has her moments when she recognizes and wants to talk to someone from another band but she's too awkward to talk to them. What she'll do is just stare at them from a distance and wait for someone to introduce them to her.

"You're burning a hole through their heads," Taigen comments, sitting down next to Mizu on the equipment crate and propping his leg up. Mizu grunts in acknowledgement of his comment but continues to stare at the other band. "They probably think you're a weirdo," he laughs.

She glares at him for a brief moment before looking at the band at a distance again. "They had a gig in the bar near our studio. Pretty impressive," she explains. Taigen nods, now staring at the band too.

The both of them watch as you approached the band of interest, cheery and bubbly. Almost immediately, you were already chatting it up out there.

A manager's skill probably.

Mid-conversation, you felt someone watching you so you turned around, eyes meeting with the two. Your smile widened, making the two of them stand up, knowing what was about to happen. They watched as you talked with the other band again. Suddenly, they looked at Taigen and Mizu's direction and approached them with you by their side.

"And these are my bandmates!" you introduced, moving over to their side. Just as Mizu was about to shake the vocalist's hands, the vocalist from the other band immediately patted her shoulder. "You're that person from one of our gigs! So how was it?"

The introvert in her was thanking you so much.

✦ She's a lady killer, but she's also very awkward when women approach her. As much as Mizu is pretty, Mizu is undeniably very handsome as well. Let's be honest, who wouldn't be attracted to a tall, well-built guitarist with an aloof aura and the sexiest deep voice you've ever heard?

The problem was, she didn't really know how to interact with them. The moment someone tries to hit on her, she's either frozen stiff or already planning her escape.

Mizu could not do anything but stare at what had landed on her feet.

It was a bra. With someone's number on it.

"Call me! Please!" someone from the audience screamed. She looked around in confusion before looking at the article of underwear by her feet with her eyes narrowed. Slowly, she bent down and picked it up, holding it by the straps.

Holy shit these were big.

What the hell was she supposed to do with this? Throw it back to the owner? Poor Mizu was lost. She continued to hold it up awkwardly, trying to figure out what should she do. If you hadn't told her to toss it you, she'd probably still be staring at it by the next song.

And you'd think people would stop doing that, but no. In fact, the amount of women hitting on her backstage increased. The little incident on stage somehow increased her charm with the ladies. Because holy shit...she plays both guitar and bass, both tall and well-built, looks so fucking good in a relaxed fit, can be both pretty and handsome at the same time, has an aloof and mysterious aura, AND she's awkward?? Sign me up. Sign me the fuck up.

✦ Unintentionally gets good venues for gigs. That's why you always bring her with you when talking to the owner of the venue. None of you really know how she does it, but she does?

"For the last time, I'm telling you. We've already booked enough performers for this month," the owner grumbled, glaring at you and your persistence.

You frowned at him, clasping your hands in front. "Please! We just need a gig to fund a new amplifier," you begged, giving the owner doe eyes. To no avail, the old man wouldn't budge...is what you thought.

Mizu saw your frown and knitted eyebrows and decided that it was a good time to approach you. She looked at you before looking at the owner with narrowed eyes, almost like a glare. "Is there a problem?" she asked, stepping forward and closer to the owner, stopping only once she was almost face-to-face with him. Her sharp blue eyes stared at his, piercing through his soul.

The owner stepped back a bit, looking up at her before shaking his head. "No no, we were only uh...talking about which time slot you wanted next week!" he said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head.

Upon hearing this, you immediately perked up and gently pushed Mizu aside. "What? Really?!" you exclaimed, holding on to the guitarist's arm in excitement. The owner nervously glanced back at Mizu, who was still looking at him with the same intimidating stare, before nodding in clear defeat.

After you had negotiated with him, the two of you left with a smile. "That went supeeer well!" you laughed out, looking over at Mizu. "What'd you do anyway?" You grasped her arm, shaking it slightly.

She shrugged, looking anywhere but at you to conceal her blush. "Beats me. I just looked over to see what you were frowning at."

✦ She doesn't like singing even if she sounds pretty good. Everyone in the band, except you, has heard her sing and has tried to convince her to be the lead vocalist for at least one song but is always greeted with a "no" or a "shut the fuck up". She WILL do the back up voice but she feels too insecure about how deep and husky her voice is so it's rare.

You didn't know she didn't like singing though and on one faithful occasion...

You opened the door to the studio and was immediately greeted by the sight of Mizu sitting on the floor with her guitar in hand. The two of you arrived pretty early so the rest weren't there yet. Her guitar was unplugged and it seems like she was looking up songs on her phone.

"Hey..." you greeted her quietly, to which she nodded. "What's up?"

She looked up from her phone before sitting up straight and propping her phone on her thigh, getting ready to play. For a moment, she did not do anything but stare at what was on her phone before looking at you.

"Want to hear me sing?"

You looked at her with wide eyes, a smile slowly tugging on the corner of your lips. Despite her question catching you off guard, it was still a welcomed surprise. You nodded and sat down on the floor next to her, leaning against her slightly.

Her breath hitched upon feeling you so close to her before she slowly relaxed and started strumming on the unplugged guitar. At first, she started strumming a bunch of random chords to calm her nerves. Once you heard the first few chords, you immediately recognized the song.

"If I could begin to be half of what you think of me, I could do about anything..." she sang, strumming on her guitar softly. "I could even learn how to love."

The way she was singing the song so shyly yet so tenderly warmed you up.

Each strum.

Each word.

Each pluck .

It was like she was singing the song with someone special in mind. You leaned closer to her, resting your head against her shoulder, not minding how much it was moving.

She moved her shoulder a bit lower so you could fully rest your head against it, still singing. "Look at you go. I just adore you." She glanced at you for a moment before continuing. "I wish that I knew...what makes you think I'm so special."

A small smile also tugged on her lips as she looked at you. You looked so peaceful. You felt so peaceful. Like you were enjoying your time with her as she continued to sing. "When I see the way you way you look shaken by how long it took, I could do about anything.."

"I could even learn how to love like you"

[blitzwhore]

Hold on, man... I'm having Thoughts and Emotions...

What if Stolas and Octavia made plans to watch the solar eclipse together on Earth to make up for not seeing Azathoth's tears? And maybe Octavia suddenly suggested inviting Blitzø and Loona over as well, since they were all together that other time, too?

And when Blitzø sees the awkward text from Stolas inviting them (I'd understand if you're busy or would rather not come, but Octavia seemed keen on the idea of seeing Loona again), he isn't sure he wants to go, because things with Stolas have been so weird lately, and he's deeply in denial about the feelings they have for one another. But Loona kicks him in the butt about it because he's being stupid, and so he reluctantly texts Stolas trying to sound as nonchalant as possible (shur y nut, portal plz) while freaking out inside.

And he doesn't know what he was expecting as he crossed that portal, but a mountaintop above the clouds is definitely not it.

“Thank you for coming,” Stolas says, and Blitzø can't help but notice the way Stolas bows to him—and then he pushes that information aside, not knowing what to do with it. “I hope the localisation is fine, and not too cold. Anywhere else would've been too crowded.”

“It's whatever,” Blitzø shrugs, and hates the way some of the light leaves Stolas' smile. He's only been here for half a minute and he's already messed things up.

Next to them, Octavia is explaining the intricacies of solar eclipses in detail to Loona. Absent-mindedly, Blitzø notices the way Loona softens around Via, but keeps it to himself, not wanting to be kicked in the nuts. Instead, he looks around for a semi-comfortable stone and plops down on it, wincing when Stolas sits carefully by his side.

He's searching desperately for something to say when Stolas announces, “Look up, everyone, it's about to start!”

At first, Blitzø notices nothing. Well, nothing but the mild discomfort of staring directly at the sun.

But then he sees it. The moon—a corner of it, anyway—overtaking the powerful star. And, for a second, he can't breathe.

Of course, the partial eclipse lasts long enough that conversation sparks up again, though awkward and sporadic. Stolas asks about work, Via talks about the moon's mountains. Blitzø tries to quieten the voice that says he doesn't deserve to be here.

But when the total eclipse nears, they're all too entranced to talk. As darkness washes over the sea of clouds below them, the seconds seem to slow, and each of his heartbeats thrums through him, echoing in the ground underneath him. He's one with the earth and the sky, and, when it all goes dark, the whole universe stops breathing with him to experience this.

He only remembers to breathe when, in the complete darkness, he feels thin, long fingers curling around his own.

Too entranced to remember all the reasons why he's not allowed to want this, Blitzø squeezes Stolas' hand firmly back.

They are one. Of course they are. How could they not be, when the sun and the moon themselves are?

It's less than two minutes before the sunlight begins regaining its territory and washing away the darkness, but it might as well be a lifetime.

A lifetime he spends with Stolas' hand clasped firmly in his own, surrounded by their daughters, marvelling at the vastness of the universe. Feeling like, maybe, they're all insignificant enough to deserve all the love they can find.

But, inevitably, the moment passes and reality settles back in.

Blitzø doesn't want the moment to end, but, of course, the moment doesn't care. And, too scared to keep holding on to a hope that feels as fragile and ephemeral as an eclipse, Blitzø lets go of Stolas' hand.

[greenthena]

Buck up, Hamlet!

***Trigger warning: Death and taking your own life in the context of Shakespeare***

Aziraphale likes Hamlet. Likes the play so much, that he bats his eyelashes at Crowley until the demon performs a miracle to make the mopey Prince of Denmark more popular. Well, good job, the both of you, because four hundred and some odd years later, you still can't get through repertory auditions without some bugger hoisting a skull and starting that monologue. Not that I don't appreciate Hamlet from a structural and analytical perspective. And the Prince of Denmark is a character most actors would sacrifice several toes to play. But it's dark. It's not a fun one.

So why does Aziraphale like it so much? Why's this fluffy little angel so Hell-bent on one of Shakespeare's tragedies? Join me, friendly Good Omens scholars, and let's suss some shit out.

Crowley adamantly dislikes Shakespeare's tragedies. "This isn't one of Shakespeare's gloomy ones, is it? Arghhhh. No wonder no one is here," he complains, wilting like a floppy noodle. Of course, it doesn't take much for Aziraphale to weasel the demon into miracling more people into the audience. But Crowley makes a point to say that he "still prefer(s) the funny ones" as he's leaving The Globe.

Crowley, I would argue, goes to the theatre to escape his real-life situation. He's a bloody demon who, when he's not stationed on Earth, literally goes to Hell. And it's not a nice place. Crowley's everyday life (particularly when he's not around Aziraphale) revolves around pain and suffering--whether its his or someone else's is insignificant. What matters is that regularly sees and experiences tangible, visceral representations of tragedy in his actual existence. Of course he prefers Shakespeare's funny ones! They're a reminder that the world and the human race that he's accidentally become so attached to is full of more than torment and affliction. Crowley doesn't appreciate Shakespeare's tragedies because they're an extension of his own suffering, with which he's already intimately familiar. For Crowley, attending a Shakespearean tragedy is like picking a scab. You already know you've been injured and fussing with the damned thing only makes it worse.

This is not the case for Azirapahle. As an angel, he's not allowed to have any scabs, much less pick at them. Like Crowley, he sees suffering in the world. He knows that humanity is constantly facing difficult odds, and even the most wonderful of human lives eventually ends in death. But unlike Crowley, Aziraphale works within a system in which there is no gray space--and therefore, no room for an angel, an agent of the side of righteousness, to experience doubt in the Ineffable Plan. The Heavenly model is to deal with problems by pretending they don't exist. Heaven has an image to maintain, after all. Like, the sheer amount of repression we see amongst the Heavenly Host is honestly terrifying. I'm thinking about the way in which The Metatron frames the Fall and damnation of a third of the angels. "For one Prince of Heaven to be cast into the outer darkness makes a good story. For it to happen twice, makes it look like there is some kind of institutional problem." It's so cold and removed because to process something so traumatic would not fit the image of Heaven. So it's neatly boxed up and packed away into a soundbite that better fits Heaven's corporate brand.

Aziraphale's suffering is certainly no less than Crowley's. The angel's trauma is repressed. It's cloaked in shining bright hallways of pure angelic light. It's hidden behind false words and tight smiles. It's communicated passive-aggressively by abusers who still have the angel caught in their web of control and manipulation. At least Crowley's trauma is visible. When he fell, the demon took on a new appearance that physically demonstrates his suffering. He has access to feelings of anger and frustration and he's allowed to express these things because he's a demon. He doesn't have to be good.

Since Aziraphale is not permitted to own his emotions and his trauma, he outsources them. He enjoys Shakespeare's tragedies because they give him the opportunity to achieve second-hand catharsis. He may not be able to admit that he's suffering, but he can experience Hamlet's pain vicariously.

***Reminding you of that trigger warning, folks!***

And this is where we get to the question, "To be, or not to be?" This is the moment in S1 E3 when Aziraphale interacts with Richard Burbage, and shouts out, "To be! Not to be! Come on, Hamlet, buck up!" He says this with this coy little smile, obviously trying to get a laugh out of Crowley. But it's indicative of a more serious dilemma that the angel, himself, must parse out. In Shakespeare's play, Hamlet's query is expressed as he wrestles with the choice between life and death. Essentially, it's a contemplation of suicide--a dark part of humanity that Heaven manages by eternally condemning those who would risk it. However there's another way to read this question, not as life and death, but as agency and the lack thereof. We think of "to be" as the choice for life and "not to be" as the option for suicide. But the only way in which Hamlet can express his agency is by taking control of the one thing that truly belongs to him: his own life. So when asking this question of an eternal being, what exactly does it mean, "To be?" What does it mean for Aziraphale to express agency in his immortal existence?

In Western thought, we tend to divide things into binaries: right and wrong, black and white, good and evil...to be or not to be. Back in the Garden if Eden, Crowley first introduced Adam and Eve to the idea that they had a choice. The serpent presented two options, obey or disobey God's authority. Though I think a better way of looking at it would be to say, passively accept your role or have agency in your fate. This is Crowley's method. He never pushes temptations upon you. He just wants to make sure you know all your options.

Like Hamlet, Aziraphale is presented with the choice of, "To be or not to be?" He can sign on the dotted line and follow Heaven's authority or he can be an angel with agency, an angel that goes along with Heaven as far as he can. And though Aziraphale still struggles with how exactly free will pertains to angels, Crowley shows him time and time again that he has options--he can make his own choices. From the very first interaction between the angel and the demon on the wall of Eden, Crowley (ever the optimist) knows there is hope for some meaningful connection with Aziraphale, because the angel makes a choice for himself: he gives away his sword. And from that moment, Crowley realizes that this angel might be just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing.

It's no wonder Aziraphale gets attached to the tragedy of Hamlet. It allows him to observe and process the darker and more difficult emotions that he, as an angel, struggles to manage. And perhaps more importantly, the Prince of Denmark's famous soliloquy mirrors of Crowley's method of temptation, wherein the demon simply reminds him that he has a choice and that, even as an angel, he can find ways to express his agency.

[jayden-writes]

poisoned

pairing: none

main protagonists: Lucifer, Diavolo, gn!Reader

word count: ~3k

genre: hurt/comfort (more hurt than comfort), angst, whump

cw: near death experience (please do tell me if there's something else that needs a cw!)

summary: Not everyone approves of Lord Diavolo's exchange program.

other notes: no name, Y/N or MC used // AO3 // thanks again to @gravedwe11er for helping me so much with this fic!

There was a certain tension in the air during the banquet Lord Diavolo hosted to celebrate the beginning of the exchange program; while everyone smiled politely or at least held carefully neutral expressions on their faces, nothing could hide the blatant disdain in some of their eyes. You tried not to be affected by the stares burning into your back, but it was difficult. It had been a mere week since you’d been transported into the Devildom and you were still adjusting to the new environment. To say that you were struggling would have been an understatement - you were surrounded by immortal and potentially dangerous beings, constantly reminded of your fragility and insignificance in comparison to them. Living in the House of Lamentation with the Avatars of Sin wasn’t without stress either, you were always subjected to their eccentric behaviors and arguments.

An unexpected touch on your shoulder nearly made you yelp, and you bit your tongue to stifle the sound. Heart throbbing in your chest, you turned towards whoever had touched you and tentative relief washed over you when you recognized Asmodeus.

“You look ravishing, darling,” he cooed, linking his arm with yours, “well, not quite as ravishing as me, of course, but that’s to be expected.”

He gracefully led you to the tables, talking about how stunning your outfit was - he had picked it out himself - as he walked, while you stayed silent, too focused on not accidentally tripping over your own feet and embarrassing yourself in front of what was probably the majority of Devildom’s aristocracy. The guests were taking their assigned seats one by one and to your horror, you noticed Asmodeus was deliberately walking you to the seating places of Lucifer, Lord Diavolo, and the Purgatory Hall group - a single free spot was between the two demons.

“No, no no no, you can’t be serious,” you whispered to Asmo, hoping the people around you didn’t have such superior hearing that they would be able to make out your words. “They're all going to stare at me! They already are! Why don’t you sit there in my stead, you want to be in the spotlight, don’t you?”

The Avatar of Lust giggled and pulled the chair out, helping you get seated, then he leaned down to murmur into your ear, “As much as I would like that, you’re supposed to be the star of today’s evening, my dear.”

Giving you a wink, he withdrew and sauntered over to the opposite side of the long table, leaving you stuck amidst the prince and the eldest of the brothers. You could feel Lucifer’s critical gaze on you, however, you refused to look at him, opting to watch the attendees instead, being careful not to establish eye contact with anyone. After just a short moment, Lord Diavolo said your name cheerfully, redirecting your attention to him.

“Ah, I can’t wait to officially introduce you to everybody,” he beamed, and it took all of your willpower not to jump out of your seat and run out.

“Yeah… me neither…” you mumbled, shoulders sagging in defeat.

Lucifer cleared his throat, and you shifted your face towards him before he smoothly remarked, “I’m sure you will do perfectly fine and behave appropriately, won’t you?”

Swallowing hard, you promptly corrected your posture, sitting up straight again. His eyes were piercing through yours until you swiftly averted your gaze, this time letting it settle on the plate and cutlery in front of you. Someone from behind you poured an odd-looking liquid into your glass and you eyed it suspiciously. It didn’t look like any beverage you’ve ever had in your realm, so you assumed it was demonus. Nervously watching the others take their glasses, you decided to follow suit, grasping the fragile object with your shaking hands.

As you watched the cloudy white fluid sloshing around, a jarring, ominous feeling swept over you. Everything inside you screamed to put the drink aside, not to consume it, but you ignored your instinct, attributing it to you simply being hyper-vigilant and nervous. You bit the bullet and brought it to your lips, tilting it back and gulping it down in one go before placing it on the wooden surface. Embarrassment burned on your cheeks once you saw everybody was drinking theirs slowly. Even so, you were unable to dwell on that further once the flavor hit you and you barely managed to avoid grimacing; it was pleasantly sweet at first, though eventually there came a nauseating aftertaste burning in your throat. It made your eyes water and you rapidly blinked, trying to rid yourself of the tears. Out of nowhere, a terrifying thought popped into your head: what if your drink had been poisoned? As abruptly as this notion had crossed your mind, you quickly shook it off when, after a bit, the taste dissipated. Who would be so bold to try to poison you, the prized human exchange student, at an event hosted by Lord Diavolo himself while you were quite literally sitting next to him?

Exhaling a shaky breath, you focused on the prince beside you who started addressing the guests with a speech. You were unable to understand his words; a loud rushing in your ears drowned all the noises out and your pulse was thumping in your throat. Confused by the abrupt onset of physical symptoms of anxiety, you took slow, deep breaths, knowing it would be over sooner or later. You nodded slightly whenever it seemed appropriate based on Lord Diavolo's body language and whatever snippets of sentences you picked up on to look like you were listening. It took a while, but when he was finally done, he smiled at you and you reciprocated, even if you weren’t sure exactly how forced it looked. He stood up along with everyone else, the attendees gradually mingling with each other again. It was obvious what was going to happen now; he would begin introducing you to the various important people of this realm. Anxiously, you rose as well, a wave of heat coursing through your body as you did so, feeling your legs wobble under your weight and your heart rate spiking. Looking around yourself, you noticed that your vision was hazy, yet you could still feel demons staring at you and hear their snickering. Turning back towards Lord Diavolo who was standing in front of you, you attempted to make out what he was saying; your efforts, however, were fruitless.

“Fresh air”, you managed to choke out, “I’ll get some fresh air.”

With that you spun on your heel, leaving the hall and ignoring all the voices surrounding you that were increasing in volume, but remained abstruse and unintelligible to you. All of a sudden, a person blocked your path and you were able to hazily make out red eyes, narrowing dangerously at you. Disregarding their presence completely, you pushed past them, continuing your way out. By the time you were alone, in a quiet hallway, you were wondering how you had been able to walk at all, your knees threatening to buckle at any moment. Still, you moved on, steadying yourself against the walls with one arm. The contrasting silence made you more aware of how noisy the whirring in your ears was, and how ragged your breathing had become as the heat in your body intensified. Head spinning, you stumbled through the hallways, having no idea where you were; you could have been in the castle’s dungeons for all you knew.

Despite the fog in your mind, you began to realize this was not anxiety; it had to be something entirely different. You faintly remembered the drink you had been served earlier - had it been just a few minutes since then or hours? Did someone actually poison you?

Before you could ponder on that question any further, pain exploded in your torso, making you clutch your chest and sending you falling to the ground. Unable to get up or even call for help, you could only clench your teeth while your breaths came in bursts, tears pooling in your eyes. The floor underneath you was blissfully cold as you ended up lying motionless on your side, almost paralyzed by the pain.

After some time, black dress shoes appeared in your view; their wearer quickly knelt next to you, and a gloved hand reached out towards you. When you let out a startled yelp, it temporarily paused in the air, then resumed its movements. The muddled shushing sounds did nothing to ease your fear, and the two fingers pressing against your neck didn’t either. Your pulse was pounding beneath the warm leather of the gloves and you could hear indistinct words, loosely resembling curses. The hand disappeared for a moment before it gently nudged your shoulder, coaxing you into rolling on your back. Someone was hovering over you, but all you could make out was the blurry silhouette of what you assumed must have been a demon. Whether they were here to finish their job or not, you did not know, and you were too weak to defend yourself.

Suddenly, the fingers - now bare - brushed over your face, the touch cool on your heated cheeks. Not able to stop yourself you whined, pushing up into the hand, not caring about the potential intentions they had. Soon, a second hand joined, mirroring the actions of the other, providing you with relief. However, it was short-lived; murmured, unfamiliar words that resonated with power filled your ears, and a strange pulling sensation emanated from the fingers on you. It was as if, somehow, it was reaching into your body, your soul, searching for something. You felt like your insides were being set on fire and it was trying to eat its way out of you, breaching through each and every cell. All you could do was cry out and sob, hot tears scorching your skin. The person wiped away the incessant tears, but they didn’t cease what they were doing, and you were certain that they truly were there to kill you.

Slowly, your vision became less blurred and you were able to make out a vaguely familiar face gazing down at you, red eyes that had glared at you with discontent previously were now a mix of concern and anger.

“… L-Lu… cifer…?” you managed to slur, tongue heavy in your mouth and pain clawing relentlessly at you. The demon you presumed to be Lucifer responded, but you were unable to comprehend even a single word.

“S-stop, please, please m-make it stop,” you pleaded with him while you were gasping for air. He held your gaze as you begged for mercy and the intensity in his demeanor seemed to subside. The grip on your cheeks softened and the overwhelming sensations eased. Your sight and hearing cleared further and eventually, you identified Lucifer to be the one kneeling by your side. Before you could say anything, however, a hand moved from your cheek to your brow, covering your eyes as well.

“Sleep,” was the first thing you were able to hear - and also the last, then you were plunged into darkness.

As you came to, you found yourself lying on a soft surface, slightly propped up, and a light fabric was draped over your body. Gradually, you regained awareness of your surroundings; you could feel the way your clothes were clinging to you, and just how drained you were. Some distance away, there were hushed voices, seemingly arguing with one another, and you could make out a couple of fragmented sentences from one person.

“… all due respect, my lord… warned you… you were naive to… the human… everything at risk… lucky that nothing…”

You blinked your eyes open, taking in the room blearily before your gaze landed on two people - a guilty-looking Lord Diavolo and an angry Lucifer. And as if the latter had a sixth sense, his head immediately snapped towards you and the argument ceased. The men promptly strode over to you, Lucifer sitting on the chair right next to the bed you were resting on, while Lord Diavolo stood in the background, his lips pressed into a thin line.

Lucifer's hand grazed over your forehead, brushing strands of hair that were sticking to the skin aside, feeling the lingering heat radiating off you. His fingers then went to your neck, checking your pulse once more. It was eerily silent as he attentively assessed your condition, and you felt awfully tired. Your body was aching; all you wanted was to return to blissful unconsciousness. But as soon as you closed your eyes, fingertips tapped insistently on your cheek until you opened them again with a groan.

“You must stay awake for now,” Lucifer asserted firmly. “Tell me, how are you feeling?”

“I'm alive,” you muttered hoarsely. He let out a long-suffering sigh at that while Lord Diavolo tensed up even more.

“Evidently, you are well enough to joke around. I suppose that is a good sign. Nevertheless - and I can not overemphasize this - you did nearly die. Consider yourself lucky that I found you when I did. A few minutes later and you would have succumbed to the poison.”

Reclining in the chair, he crossed his arms in front of his chest and fixed you with an appraising gaze. You attempted to sit up, but the pain shooting through you and Lucifer’s scowl made you lie back down. Finally, Lord Diavolo stepped closer to you and you observed his strained expression; you had never seen him like that before, and you almost felt bad about getting poisoned at his banquet.

“I’m terribly sorry that this has happened. Please accept my sincerest apologies and the assurance that nothing of this sort will ever occur again,” his voice sounded subdued and quiet.

“It’s not your fault, Lord Diavolo, you couldn’t have known.”

“He did know. I warned him that this could happen and yet, he refused to listen to me”, Lucifer huffed.

“Maybe because you always assume that the worst will happen, and then it never does. Well, this time it did, but-”

“I beg your pardon?” he halted your thoughtless retort with an indignant glare, making you shut up instantly. “As you should have noticed by now, not assuming that the worst could happen at all times is what will get you killed in the Devildom. I am merely trying to keep you alive, although you seem all but keen on seeking your death here with the amount of trouble you have managed to find yourself in since your arrival.”

Lucifer shook his head and sighed heavily before standing up.

“I have matters to attend to. Namely, finding the culprit”, he stated calmly as he walked towards the door. “Lord Diavolo, we will continue our conversation at a later time.”

With the Avatar of Pride out of the room, Lord Diavolo took the seat. His eyes were everywhere but on you while he was wringing his hands.

“Lord Dia-” you began, only to be interrupted by him.

“No. Please, just call me Diavolo,” he uttered, now looking at you. “I’ve put you in grievous danger because I believed no one would dare harm you on the castle’s premises. It was foolish of me to think that, and I must apologize for the distress I inadvertently caused you.”

“But you didn’t mean to, Diavolo. I’m not mad at you,” you explained and you tried sitting up again to be more at eye level with him. He quickly steadied you and helped you lean against the headboard. Pained whimpers bubbled in your throat and you clenched your jaw to suppress them as you shifted your position - you didn't want to make him feel even worse. However, it didn’t escape his notice and he sat on the edge of the bed, keeping a hold of your upper arms. His touch was cautious, as if he was scared of hurting you further. The prince looked at you for a moment before he moved his hands to your shoulders, his thumbs lightly stroking over them in a comforting manner.

“Seeing you like that… unconscious, barely holding onto life while Lucifer brought you back from the brink…” Diavolo finally said, his voice cracking.“It made me realize how frail you truly are. And… that I wish to get to know you properly. I don’t want to waste any more precious time, not when a human’s life is so short and delicate. And I promise you, from now on I will do better in ensuring your safety.”

The serious look on Diavolo's face was dizzying, so you simply nodded slowly. Just as he was about to speak again, Barbatos entered, carrying a tray with a steaming cup of tea.

“Ah. I see you have regained consciousness. How are you feeling?” asked the butler.

“I'm doing alright,” you replied easily. Diavolo tightened his grip on you a little, almost imperceptibly so, no doubt having recognized your lie. Giving you a lenient smile, Barbatos set the tray on the nightstand next to you.

“You will be alright. Eventually,” he spoke, his words heavy with meaning, before bowing and exiting the room, leaving you alone with Diavolo. With his hands still resting comfortingly on your shoulders, he frowned as he watched his butler leave.

Not wanting to further aggravate the ache that was plaguing your body, you suppressed the urge to shake your head. 51 weeks left. You just had to make it through 51 more weeks.

[whatcannotbesaid-shallbewept]

"This is The Sound Of Something Being Born" (But What?)

Like anyone else who's listened to it, I just can't stop thinking about Warriors.

It's a dense work, and while the genderswap is probably my favourite thing about it, there's two other things about the story that I'm obsessed with. "This is the sound of something being born", and the song Same Train Home.

I've done my post on the genderswap so consider this Part 2 of my "favourite things about The Warriors" meta series.

But while the Genderswap is important to Warriors it's not the main thesis of the story.

While "This is the sound of something born" definitely is the thesis. It's in the first song, and the finale line of the last song. It's the mic-drop moment that ends the album. So what's being born exactly? And what do I have to add to this thesis?

It's important to pay attention to who says that line. Firstly, it's the guest rappers on Survive The Night. Then it's Cleon in Finale.

Cleon is definitely the heart (or soul?) of the story - she's the one who believes in Cyrus, the Warrior who has the highest emotional stakes in that dream being destroyed.

But Cyrus' dream isn't what Cleon is talking about in the finale. So... what?

Eisa Davis has already said what's actually being born in the final song... it's Hip-hop.

She calls the album "a love letter to the origins of the Hip-Hop". You can look at the plot through a lense of the Cyrus truce "enabling the the cultural conditions that created hip-hop". Like the real gang truces did in the 70s.

That's why the guest rappers are the first ones to say "this is the sound of something being born".

I basically agree with @thewhizzyhead that Luther killing Cyrus made peace between the gangs impossible. That dream is firmly dead.

The Gramercy Riffs even admit this themselves. In the end, they break the peace. In their words "Fuck the truce, and do what's right."

By the finale, the album admits that peace isn't a sustainable goal anymore. Hell, it's not even worth it. Guys like Luther need to be stopped, and peace isn't working.

And this is where I go a little bit feral because... thats what RENT says!! And like Lin Manuel Miranda, I fucking love RENT.

One of the final lines of act one of RENT is - "The opposite of war isn't peace, its creation".

Which is almost exactly the same as Warriors' final thesis. Destruction, peace, creation.

Luther wants blind destruction, Cyrus and The Riffs want peace but fail, and in the end Cleon declares - "This is the sound of something being born"

Now that's always been a great line from RENT, but not really one that the story focuses on.

Jonathan Larson was a very political writer, only really writing charged satire before RENT. But I wouldn't really call RENT politically charged . (Partly due to his editors asking him to change things)

A lot of people have praised the ending of Warriors for being hopeful - and it very much is hopeful.

But it shouldn't be? Right?

If you look objectively at the situation - Cyrus is dead, Fox and Ajax are gone, Luther destroyed any chance of peace, and you know. They're still a gang dealing with things like poverty and police violence.

Over the course of Warriors nothing actually changes for the better. In fact, things are probably worse.

The situation is hopeless - but for some reason, the characters aren't. And the narrative rewards them for this.

You see, RENT ends in the exact same way. Things get worse - some of them die, relationships get ruined, most of them don't achieve their dreams. They still all have death sentences over their head, they're still poor. Everything's the same.

But one single thing changes.

Mimi, after a indirect suicide attempt, survives. And afterwards, she wants to live.

That's the triumphant moment the show ends on. RENT is a very optimistic show, and this is how it justifies all that optimism. With just one small, insignificant thing, like hope.

The same happens with Cleon. Things get worse, but Cleon still has hope.

This is what the line "The opposite of war isn't peace, its creation" actually means. It's another example of RENT's optimism.

It's blind optimism that doesn't really make logical sense - but it ends up being proven right anyway. In a very metatextual way.

Some of the characters in RENT probably don't even survive much longer after the final song - but Mark managed to record a lot of their lives in his documentary.

The film that plays in the final moments of the play, is also subtextually - the musical RENT. Something was lost, but something was created too. RENT didn't just create itself, but half a hundred other culturally relevant musicals. Some of which you may already know - In The Heights, Hamilton, Warriors.

Watching the musical RENT over and over, you get a sort of self-fulfilling prophecy. A story loops back in on itself. It's the same with Warriors.

Eventually the birth Hip-hop happened, and then Warriors. It's own self-fulfilling prophecy. This is the sound of something being born.

[warsamongthestars]

I became curious about something; how different do you think things would go if someone else but Crosshair had a 'functioning chip'? Say Hunter was the one 'loyal' to the Empire. Because then the rest of the Batch would suddenly stand leaderless for instance. Ignoring the bad writing of the show of course. (Sorry if you've covered this somewhere already.)

I prolly have covered it? I don't think so, but I also don't remember, and I am doomed to inevitably repeat things as all who forget their history are will to do...

I think that the situation is an interesting story to explore.

But if it followed TBB's logic, it would be one that, unfortunately, would inevitably done the same things that occur in TBB, without fail and maybe with only minor to insignificant one-line differences.

( Almost word per word, exactly like a fanfiction rewrite that spends a majority of its time just copy pasting lines word per word without taking it stories into new directions... just merely adding scenes that get a Mature Rating slapped on )

Because TBB is not, in fact, written to tell stories but sell you something for attention and subscription money. It was never going to be deep, it was only going to bank on hype, rush and attention-of-the-moment; and it was never going to follow any kind of character or character arc beyond how it affects their OC and the OC's rival character.

So to follow the lines of this logic, to follow TBB, is to place Hunter as Omega's anime rival... and it would be just like Crosshair's arc, if not exactly. Maybe a change of planet, maybe a change from sniper rifle to combat knife, exchange the energy bow for a vibrosword, but the result wouldn't be any different.

BUT.

If we were to follow the line of thinking, with the idea that unique characters make the plot, they are not made by the plot... And that means following the character as they are introduced and presented, with all implications in mind, with the world build of Star Wars and the set up of the Clone Wars...

And of course, adding the best parts-- human experience and human imagination in a beautifully gruesome mesh-like disaster...

It starts with the fact that the Bad Batch are killers first and foremost. They brag about putting down insurrections and killing the people involved [the Yalbec story from the Bad Batch arc of season 7. The implications behind their bragging are horrifying, so I grabbed popcorn.], as well as the fun additional information that suggests why there was an insurrection [ I'd be pretty pissed too if my giant bug mother was hunted down and killed because her stinger was delicious to some cultures, and even more so if the Republic we're apart of does nothing about it. ]

They all follow the Empire, because its easy. Even better, they're highly regarded for their skills, probably finally get a paycheck with benefits. To the bad batchers, there really isn't much difference between the Empire and the Republic, the Empire is just the Republic with the shackles off anyway, and they're just continuing what they've been doing since deployment.

But because the chip runs on regular clone genome, not their mutant modified brains, that's when conflict would begin arise.

That's the sciencey-bullshit explanation.

The narrative-bullshit explanation, is that the strongest parts of each character can break through the evil-artifact's influence, provided that what is strong about them isn't what the evil-artifact attaches / attacks.

That's a general set up. So let's add your suggestion as a spark point to get stories going moving forward. Setting up the setting is all nice and dandy, but we need Ideas now.

So let's add in the idea that while everyone knows something is probably wrong, but can't quite put their finger on it, they know that there is obviously up with Hunter.

He's colder, he's more vicious, he's not the anxious compulsive snarker now, he's seemingly more a perfect soldier than any reg. Orders are absolute and be damned to anyone in the way.

( It was already noticed that the regs are acting like that too, regardless if they were like that before, and this on the backburner of the minds of the Bad Batch. But because most of the Bad Batchers are "special" (save Echo, who is freaking out) they don't consider themselves to be as knee deep in the cacky as they actually are. )

Echo is the very first one to call it out. He knows something is wrong. His brothers aren't acting right, the Bad batch have been getting these odd headaches, and Hunter has done a total 180. But given that Echo is new, the rest of the Batch try to confront Hunter.

( The jedi are dead. Echo saw the massacre reports and recordings via his new built-in hacking skills. Rex is dead, Jesse is dead, Kix is dead--everyone he has ever known, is gone. And if they're not gone, they are certainly not them anymore. Echo wants desperately to trust his squad--they're the only ones left... )

They send Wrecker first, because its hard to do anything to Wrecker. Wrecker's general warmhearted rough housing, results in being yelled at and given a vicious cold shoulder. Wrecker leaves Hunter alone, and becomes depressed.

Then its Tech, who isn't a socialite by any means, and tries to break the ice, so to speak, with fun information facts he's learned. When Hunter ignores him, Tech skips right into direct confrontation, breaking down that there is something wrong going on and they're in the middle of it, Hunter shuts him down. Tech leaves Hunter alone, and copes by putting his mind to a nearby droid project, and never saying a word to anyone.

Then the big one, Crosshair. Second in command, confident and in control, and the biggest asshole when he has had it with someone. He straight up confronts Hunter, no preamble, though unlike the avoidant Wrecker or the bullheaded Tech in confrontations, Crosshair hits his marks.

"You weren't like this before." "You're acting like a Reg." "Since when did we care about Orders?" "Since when did we care about missions beyond surviving them and the GAR?" "You notice how the Empire is killing regs enmass?" "You're going to led us to our death with that attitude."

( It should be noted, that Hunter's original self, has just enough capacity over his chipped brainwashing to not report his brothers, nor to execute them for defying Order 66. )

( This is not enough, however, to stop him from retaliating with the full force of a wild animal. )

Hunter and Crosshair end up in a fight. Hunter, at his worst, is a vicious dirty fighter who uses his environment and flexibility and stealth, to take down an opponent. He is wicked wiht a knife and small arms, Crosshair's absolute weakness as a primarily long ranged fighter. Hunter, chip or no chip, does not attack to kill his brothers, but Crosshair is dragged to medical afterwards for an "incident with a training droid".

Echo has had enough. Lines have been crossed, he has been told to sit back and wait for the team to handle it, his own feelings are a chaotic mess, and now his alarms are going off.

Whatever is going on with the clone army and with Hunter, its not something that can be reasoned with, and its certainly not something that can be done about when under the scrutiny of these natborn officers.... These new officers who would order public staff executions, and gods knows what else they do to the planets they occupy...

The only decision is to run and maybe, find a way to help from the outside, because they're not doing shit here.

( with dragging of feet and looming disaster in their minds ("We're just, leaving Hunter behind!?"), it doesn't take much for Echo to convince the remaining squad that they can't handle Hunter right now, but maybe, just maybe, they can find help and get him later. )

( "He'll be fine, he has to be fine, they aren't going to kill him because of our failure, that'd just be a... waste of resource," says Echo, "We just need to sell it like its a mutiny." )

They do. Hunter is hard to deal with one on one, but collectively (well, minus a wounded Crosshair) its easy to cause a scene and punch his lights out in front of cameras.

The tricky bit is running to the Havoc Marauder. They are, of course, successful, but not without some strange, unseen, outside help from a blond haired clone cadet we haven't seen up onto this point. To CF99, it just seems like coincidence that the blast doors reopen as they're closing, and that training droids are suddenly flooding hallways.

They fly off.

And that would be... well, at least the first five episodes maybe? No TV show movie or 1 hour episode start, just, full on first quarter of season 1.

This is just my idea of it... but it starts with setting Echo up as the leader of the Bad Batch, and it does not involve Omega having center stage, but merely being an implied part of plot to be revealed later.

As for what happens going forward, that depends on what we want them to face. Do we want them inevidably heading to Wayland? Does Wayland even exist as it does in TBB or is it something else? Does Pabu exist or maybe are we canonizing old media planets into the Disney verse? Does Cid exist or is someone else around?

The best thing about a over arching episodic story... is that you can literally do anything, as long as you know the world build and the rules of the "game". There's a lot more that can be done in the STar Wars sandbox than just rehashing familiar shit for kudos and likes.

But we can set up a few things from what we know prior and from what this set up already has.

Rex is out there, starting the Rebellion, and he's working to free clones--which is perfect in order to get Hunter back. This also sets up the reveal of the chips as well as the fact that it was Fives who discovered them, and it was only by slim chance, that Rex ever escaped in the first place.

Crosshair would understand the logic of leaving Hunter, but the emotional impact of leaving a brother for potential dead, would immediately make him a rival challenging character to Echo. The writing rules of this situation, however, is to make him merely a rival, not a saboteur. Just because someone is a dick, doesn't mean they're going to unscrew the ship engine and tell the enemy where you're at. This is very important to keep in mind.

Each Bad Batcher would have an episode to come to terms with leaving Hunter, facing what their relationship with him meant to them, and dealing with the possibility that he may or may not come back. Part of this is returning to a post-battle Kamino and finding 99 was killed, which would play into why each Batcher is anxious.

Just as well, for emotional character scores that doesn't involve the plot or grief, each Batcher gets an episode to face the galaxy on their own merits, potentially leading them to a finale arc later on for when this initial over-arching plot is over, as a way to either allow the next over-arching plot or to retire the character for now. Rule of writing? It has to bee on their merits alone, not detailing their relationship with their team.

Of course we're going to have team episodes that help define to the audience what kind of relationship with batcher has with one another.

And we're gonna need episodes where the Bad Batchers butt heads with Echo as Echo leads a team that he wasn't a vital part of, and didn't share much history with.

Obviously we have to save Hunter. None of this 3 years separation-dangle-him-in-your-face shit. And Just as the other batchers get their own character episodes, both for their histories and themselves facing the world--Hunter needs those too without the looming threat of the chip. But before we get there, we're going to have fun with his chip episodes but allowing him to have an evil arc with obvious internal conflict--as his true self fights with the evil outside forces controlling his life.

I know I don't like her as she's treated in TBB, but Omega would be an interesting character to use without putting her in the spotlight. We do need someone around who knows their medical. Just maybe she's integral to freeing Hunter...

Because I love a dose of self indulgence, and every writers needs that in their stories, each Batcher gets a Chip episode or Chip Arc in some fashion. Enough to ensure character conflict and growth, and also to inspire fans to create their own Chip AUs. Could be that, because of how CF99 was made, removing their chips are a lot more complicated than just a brain operation on a derelict ship.

New Clones introduced of course. Perhaps those who would've filled in for clones who died in TCWs--like, since Commander Ponds die, who was Windu's new Commander for the rest of the war? And those from TBB, cos let's face it, thems were awesome too. Mayday might just survive this time!

No Guest Characters. If there are, they need to have a serious connection to clones, other wise, someone is robbing story and character for cameo rights, and that's not how you make a story. This is a clone story.

If we're gonna have Rex, we need Cody. Cody needs to be totally chipped as a foremost example of how bad the chip gets. He's meant to serve exactly as he's intended, as he's done in all his appearances, and in this case, he needs to additionally be Rex's rival and antagonist character.

And the final writing rule, the most important one...

Clone stories need to have an element of tragedy and finality. You don't have to kill a main character to get it, but there is no happy ending here.

The happy ending is performed by Luke Skywalker in "Return of the Jedi".

We can only achieve Bittersweet, at best. Everyone can live, and still lose.

Its by this rule, that Order 66 really is the tragedy its born to be and not just an excuse for the plot to get rid of all the Jedi characters.

We should see its direct effects as a clone story, and not just some one handed episode that never becomes relevant again. When this story ends, the loose ends should be on purpose as a message of "Because of the events leading to this story, this rope is permanently cut and can never be tied again. This is not a place of honor, we are survivors of the worst and the world cannot be fixed."

...

I wasn't expecting to write a full episode with a concept board attached, but damn, here you go, a full novel for your question.

[undercoverpan]

Say what you mean (I can't, sorry)

"Why didn't you make me tea when I was sick?"

The room they're in is quiet. Spider isn't looking at him, rather, he's staring at his cup of water as he sits down in one of the cold, metal chairs the RDA had left behind. Jake's place within the four walls is at the small counter, leaning other it with his elbows as he grips a piece of bone, whittling it into a bead. Neither face the other.

"What?" He asks, resuming with his carving. Spider glances at him from the corner of his eyes, catching the dismissive tone, and thinks of shutting his mouth. Just dropping the conversation. But with a second glance, he catches amber on the man's songchord, and thins his lips. Proof of his place within the family is reflected in that insignificant amber, the same blood that courses through his veins now. How he hated his blood; how he wonders why and how Jake could cherish it. His blood beckons him to speak, rushing to his cheeks as he opens his mouth again.

"When I was sick, you never made me tea." 

Jake regards his words in the way you might regard the core of an eaten Yovo fruit. Past its sweet flesh, what is it worth? The seeds may be cultivated by Eywa, but not necessarily the Na'vi. By Jake. But Spider wants to be valued beyond his metaphorical and literal flesh. 

"Did you want some tea?" He offers; and Spider stills. His rational mind, the one that never made any effort to shield him from the less rational parts of himself that dwelled within his heart, tells him that that is what he wants. Tea. He's asked for tea and he's being offered tea. He associates that part of his thoughts with cowardice and willful ignorance, because this isn't what he wants. 

"No, not right now. Back then, when I was a kid. You used to make the others tea; but never me. Why?" He presses, and though he shows great restraint with the emotions seeping through his teeth like blood through a white bandage, it is still as palpable and intrusive as the past comparison. Jake pauses, turns, and looks at Spider. He feels microscopic beneath his intense gaze, like an insect, like a yerik, like prey and insignificance all at once. Their relationship is one of commensalism, maybe parasitism if you push it. Spider certainly is.

"That's because you rarely got sick. Also, Norm wanted to keep you away from Na'vi foods and drink when you got sick–" he starts and Spider feels shame welling up in his throat like bile. Embarrassment. "No. Not that. Why didn't you make me tea?" He says. It's simple, a simple question. But below the surface, it's a heavy; loaded question. It's not stupid, or petty, or childish; it is a plea. A plea for understanding, a plea for please don't make me really say it.

"I never thought to make you tea. I…I thought you liked making your own tea." He offers instead an odd olive branch of sorts. Spider tightens his grip on his cup. "I always wanted someone to make me tea. It–, I like my tea, but I've never compared it to anything else. I don't know if I'm doing it right; I don't know what tea is supposed to taste like." He says, admits with some embarrassment and hesitance. Jake takes a breath; it feels like he's taking the air straight from Spider's lungs.

"Is it so bad, not knowing what tea is if you like what you make?" 

He asks. 

"Is it so bad that I want you to make me tea?" Spider counters. Jake sighs and Spider feels ridiculous. An 8 year old tugging at someone's sleeve, saying come look, I hit it right in the middle this time! I carved it myself! I wove it myself! I saw this and thought of you! I learned how to do this today! I made this for you!

"It's not that I don't want to make you tea, Spider, I promise. It's just…" he hesitates, searching for something inside himself, something more genuine than he wants to be right now. "...With the kids, and Neytiri, and the rest of the clan, I was just so busy." 

Spider feels something in him deflate, filled with some delusional hope that because he is part of 'the kids' and 'the clan' he'd get tea, but he wasn't. Never was, never will be. He bites his lip, hunching over like Jake punched him in the stomach and with the pain in his chest, he might've.

"Okay." He says, tersely. He doesn't dare meet his gaze. Doesn't want to imagine what he'd find in that golden eyed gaze.

"Spider…" He trails, reaches a big blue hand towards Spider in some kind of attempt at comfort. It's a cruel thing, reaching when you've made it clear you have no intention of holding. Featherlight touches grace him occasionally, but he wants the real thing. He wants somebody to care in the same way a father was. Anyone, anyone at all.

"It was stupid to ask," he says, standing up, "Sorry. It's stupid–, I'm stupid–,"  He rushes out of the room, water forgotten, eyes red rimmed and body stiff, trapped in rigor mortis. His body is tense, reeling from some kind of impact. He grits his teeth as he makes it to his little bedroom. He opens and closes the door behind him, a quiet click as it shuts behind him. His room, small and usually suffocating, is his sanctuary.

Sanctuary.  His uturu from the rest of the world, when it all became too much. And it's so stupid and he's so stupid because it's just tea. It's just tea, it's something he can make on his own, it's something he doesn't necessarily love; it was such a stupid and petty and desperate thing to ask. He feels like there are bugs under his skin, he wants to rip them all out. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid

He feels hot tears down his cheeks. Embarrassing.

He sinks to the floor, knees tucked beneath his chin. He heaves.

The room blurs, turning into a muddled sea of colours in his vision. His head is cold against the hard floor as sobs wrack his built frame. And yet, from the corner of his eye, he spots something. It's in a brown can, a familiar one. He reaches out his hand and touches cold metal, pulling it from beneath his bed. 

It's one of the better drinks the RDA makes. Coffee flavoured energy drink, a favourite amongst the science guys. He always thought it tasted like dung, the bitterness juxtaposed awfully with the artificial sweetness. But when it's in a chipped mug, topped with copious amounts of whipped cream and chocolate, it's good. When it's shared around a campfire with Quaritch, it's good. When it's put into a microwave and subsequently blows up said microwave, it's good. 

He ignores the warning labels and drinks it down. It's good.

_________

Spider not asking what he rlly wants <333 turning to an unhealthy imitation of what he truly desires <333 he cant ask his dad for affection or why he feels unloved, he like frfr

[buffkitties]

It kind of makes me want to see a scenario where a post-game Komaeda that's come to a self-realization that he really doesn't like the inequality of their world at all, finally calls his classmates out on how they treated him. Pointing out that if it really bothered them so much to hear him talk about himself being their inferior, then why did they act like he was beneath them. It's honestly depressing just how meanspirited everything outside of the OVA is to him. Like you really do get the impression when he walks back into class that they would have been relieved to learn he'd perished in that desert.

Also on the topic of the Reserve Course, there's something else that really bugs the shit out of me about DR3. The continued use of featureless models for them. Like it made sense in Hinata's Chapter 3 dream sequence, because he wanted to stand out from talentless people. But in a story where they're front and center, and a major event involves them being brainwashed into committing an involuntary mass-suicide? Seriously undermines the horror and tragedy of the whole thing.

It actually made me appreciate this one scene in a fic I read somewhere (that I can't remember the name of), where Hinata has a nightmare vision of the Reserve Course. Who call him out on the fact that he was no different from the rest of them, and could have just as easily have died alongside them. Yet he barely remembers any of them besides Natsumi and Sato.

God, yeah. It also really bugs me how unfazed by the whole thing they made Hinata seem, especially since he joined the Kamukura Project because of the Natsumi and Sato situation in the first place. Once again, it feels like they've completely thrown Hinata's trauma away, just like they did with the apparent "merge" of him and Izuru Kamukura, despite that just being his alias and there being no point in the story which implies it wasn't just him before DR3. He was just one lucky person to survive the mass suicide because he joined the project. Otherwise, he would've been dead alongside everybody else. Not to mention that they completely missed out on the opportunity to write a survivor's guilt for him since he was one of the indirect causes of the situation.

Also ! Komaeda does feel bothered by how he's treated by everyone. A lot of the time, he implies or outright states that he doesn't understand why he's so hated and misunderstood, and even gets upset when he thinks about Hinata hating him, too. He genuinely doesn't see what's wrong with the way he talks because it's the truth, and they should feel happy to have that privilege, so he assumes that he's treated badly precisely because of talent, and that it's because he's worthless compared to them (aka how talentless people get treated too). While he doesn't realise that it's because he mentioned they're privileged that they're offended because people who are privileged hate being reminded of it, he does see that talent affects how they're acting towards him. It's also just a case of he's bothered by it, but he can't really do anything about it in a society where ultimates have all the power. Still, he does always step in if they cross a line towards anybody or make them uncomfortable, and he can stand up for himself if he sees a reason to. Usually, he just brushes their comments towards himself off or sees them as a fact rather than personal insult, too.

Edit: I agree on the featurless models. It made the reserve course feel insignificant and like the event didn't matter at all because they're not even portrayed as people, just something in the background.

[panlight]

Hi. I have a few thoughts about "Breaking Dawn". I am 50/50 with these options, maybe they are both correct or both are not correct. Mayer wrote that all vampires know how to use modern technology because

1. So that vampires don't look pathetic and insignificant in the eyes of modern people who are surrounded by these technologies.

2. Vampires actually interact with these things, Bella is an unreliable storyteller in this.

Imagine stone statues that used to be people, but now they eat people. The cute things they have they took from the corpses of their victims. They don't watch movies or listen to music (don't know how to use technology or don't their senses perceive it?), don't talk to people and fight to the death for territory and food with other vampires. Doesn't sound cool, does it? A vampire who is 300-500 years old with a MacBook and a Range Rover is something else.

Your thoughts?

See this is really fascinating to me, especially back when I was actively reading fanfic, to see how differently other people interpreted it. Because when I originally read the books, my impression was that yeah, they weren't doing any of this. They were living in the woods just eating people and not going near humans at all because they couldn't without killing them. I thought it was really super hard, borderline impossible, for human-killing vampires to really interact with the human world in any meaningful way. That they couldn't pop into a movie theater and watch a film because the temptation to kill everyone would be too great and then it would be a whole thing and the Volturi might come after them. Like, at the time I thought Jasper going into a diner in the first place was super weird; why would he do that (other than so the cute diner story can happen, of course!), especially when he was already thirsty! Seemed to be asking for trouble!

And so, yeah, I didn't think being a Twilight style vampire sounded that cool. Living in the forest attacking random hikers and then wearing their clothes? Can't sleep? Can only drink blood and not enjoy food at all? No thanks. Sounds awful. What's the point of immortality if you can't like, DO stuff? Even the Volturi, Patrons of the Arts that they are, allegedly have just sat still on their thrones for so long they have literally gathered dust and started to petrify. They aren't going out and exploring the world, they aren't being active and engaged. They're sitting there like the stone people they are.

But then other people interpreted it totally differently and wrote vampires outside the Cullens having fairly Cullen-like lives with enjoying human world arts and culture and tech. Other vampires who had jobs and cool cars and nice houses. And certainly I've read and seen plenty of other vampire stories that do that, but I thought originally that Twilight vampires were much more 'feral' for the lack of the better word and hidden, that the whole vegetarian thing DID allow the Cullens a level of access to the human world that other vampires didn't have.

I've now come to think it's somewhere in the middle. I think Twilight vampires are still pretty nomadic, generally, and out of touch with the human world, but not as completely as I thought before. The whole red eyes thing are a bit of problem, but with colored contacts (like Heidi uses) or sunglasses, it's not a huge thing in the modern world. And I think the temptation to hunt is not as extreme as I originally had thought, either. That they probably can sit in a diner or movie theater or library for awhile and be fine as long no one is actively bleeding. But I still think the average Twilight vampire probably leads a pretty 'boring' life that's mostly about where they are going to find their next victim and trying not to draw attention to themselves. The average vampire isn't scrolling TikTok on their phone, because they don't have one, and don't have money to pay for service, because they don't have a job or a bank account. But they might fool around with the phone of their victim for a little while before tossing it so they can't be tracked. They don't have a permanent residence (other than Amun and his hidden temple, I guess), but might "play house" from time to time in a victim's place for the novelty of it, take a shower, figure out how the TV works, before going back to the wilderness once their victim's disappearance is noticed. It seems really lonely and boring, and a waste of their incredible intelligence. Better if you have a mate, I guess, but even then. I think the James/Victoria lifestyle (other than hunting other vampires for funsies like James liked to do) is probably closer to the average vampire experience than the Cullens'.

But then again, in MS James knows how to fly a plane apparently. Or did he just like . . . figure it out as he went since it wouldn't matter if he crashed?

[l-in-the-light]

Chapter 1124 comment (small spoilers)

Spoken like a true D. there, Vivi. Not fearing death.

Still, what's her problem?! We need those news printed!! And yeah yeah I get her point that he's gonna pin down murder of Vegapunk on Luffy, but we need all those other news hitting the papers. How else will Luffy know what's going on?! Vivi, get your shit back together, which side are you on?? You also relied on newspapers all this time to read news about your fav Strawhats!

I feel so conflicted right now. Because yeah, I do get Vivi's point here, but this is not really helping anyone right now, it's just for her own sake because she dislikes that Morgans preys on reporting misery of other people. And ofc it's awful, but also neccessary evil, especially in a world of One Piece, where Morgans IS the only source of information. What is she even expecting him to do? To pledge to always publish only truth? That's not how the world works. But I guess we all wish it would be the case.

That being said I did some online gaming news writing before and quickly quit. It was terrible. The only acceptable news to be published were about the most popular games (countless new GTA rumours, never any indie games unless they're trendy at the moment or a phenomenon like Dave the Diver), only the ones that will get the most "clicks". Any other news were ignored. And also lots of trash content, also for the clicks. And there was always a rat race involved - whoever refreshes the site constantly gets the news topics first and of course only the boss dictates the news roster. You could propose your own stuff to publish, but 90% of cases would be rejected just because. It was really discouraging, to say the least. Also they were so backwards in how the news were written, if you try to be objective they will try to make you write them in more embarrassingly "controversial" fashion too and if you just keep doing it your own way, they will start to be nitpicky about some insignificant to the topic details or even accuse you of not knowing shit about games just because they can. No one cares about the facts, only about clicks.

But in this particular case, I'm with Morgans. Those news need to hit the papers. Now's not the right time for the criticism Vivi, now's the time to grit your teeth and hope for the best.

This chapter finishes with a feast, which makes me think we're not gonna hop to Elbaf right away. Otherwise why not wait till we reach it to celebrate? Meanwhile if we're making another stop on the way, that makes more sense. Fans will be so mad that Elbaf will get once again delayed tho. I don't care. I would prefer Elbaf with Law onboard already, thank you very much.

My hopeful prediction is that we're gonna meet Law soon.

[thejockout]

As time passes and I release more files, an increasing number of people DM asking whether I'd be interested in trancing them personally. A few have even requested to do this with me as an altered commission, which they'd pay for on a regular basis as I work with them! To date, I have not said yes to anyone: and I'd like to take a minute here to explain why. If you're one of the people who's asked, offered or suggested this, don't feel bad - I've never given a stance on it. But I'm doing it here now!

Reason #1: As a subject and tist, my "field of expertise" lies in pre-made mp3s. I had my dalliances with sites like Hypnosis4Guys and a few sessions over Skype/Discord back in the day, but they were almost all disastrous. Of maybe... 8/9 separate individuals, 6 violated my set boundaries (by recording me, by jerking off when we'd established it would be a sfw session, by trying to change the topic of trance to get their own suggestions in place) and I frankly have no interest as a subject in repeating this experience. So I stick to MP3s.

But that also means that I have little practical experience of live trance work on either end; I'm sure that I could improvise some BS as well as anyone else can. I'm not so down on myself that I think I'd never figure it out. But I don't have a history with it, and I'm pretty hesitant to pick anyone as my "first subject" who'd have to sit through me fumbling my way through a few sessions before I figured it all out.

Reason #2: Compared to producing 'nosis MP3s, live trance is a whoooole different ballgame intimacy-wise. And it's one I don't feel equipped for because of how seriously I'd want to take it. Needing to provide aftercare, working with safeties, ensuring a sub's comfort and ease... these are all considerations that are uniquely challenging to account for in live trance, and ones I'm very hesitant to do with a stranger as a result. Even something as simple as needing to guarantee my internet doesn't go out, or that I don't get interrupted... I wouldn't be able to live with myself if something went wrong/a subject had an abreaction when they were under for me.

Hypnosis is a tricky business, and it can dredge up unpleasant/unwanted emotions in people pretty easily if you strike the wrong chord (which, in this whole space of TF kink, is possible if not common.) I have had panic attacks a not-insignificant number of times in trance, and I know how scary it can be. I would want somebody more experienced/educated than myself to help me through it if we were trancing together.

Reason #3: To date, I don't consider I've gotten enough training to be engaging with these pseudo-therapeutic topics on a specifically one-to-one basis. I already try to step lightly around certain topics like image and self-worth in my files because I'm not a psych grad and my only "qualifications" in hypnosis or therapy are short-form courses. (I am, however, pursuing further education in hypnosis and doing a course on it right now.)

But this is complicated because the suggestions a lot of subjects in this space want, me included, can really put you in a psychological minefield. Things like habit change, strong TF ideas, ego effects and permanent change ✨... they're closely tied to our sense of identity, self, sexuality, etc, and there IS a risk of some butterfly effect when you go plucking these strings. I'm not criticising other tists for tackling these issues/themes via live sessions. Their choices are their own, and their subjects are choosing their tists just as much as the other way around... but personally, I would feel irresponsible dipping into people's minds in that way.

But then... why are files different?

Ultimately, a file is different because it's premade; I am writing a script, I'm telling you what it contains, and it's up to you to decide if that's right for you. There is no learning on the fly what I'm speaking about (assuming you read a file description), and you've at least broadly decided you like the theme I'm exploring. After pretalks and setup, a live trance is improv; even if you're working repeatedly with a subject on their specific desires, that requires a flexibility/change that demands a lot more "Navigation" of the sub's psyche than files do. It's more involved. As I said earlier, it's more intimate. And it's a lot more responsibility.

I still try to be responsible with my files. I pay attention to safeties, ethics, etc. I am wary of encouraging irresponsible behaviours without appropriate softening, and I generally temper my own desires a little when writing to avoid causing harm inadvertently. But that same caution would make live work very challenging to do well, so I haven't yet.

Sorry for the seriousness of the post, but I figured it was worthy of a full response. Thanks for reading.

[carlyraejepsans]

Thoughts on transfem sans?

ehh I'm sorry, I don't think i could get into it. i feel like the way his character plays on certain tropes is meant to evoke this... image of sleazy masculinity that falls just short of the more common examples of the trope in popular media (mainly by uhhhhh doing away with the misoginy LMAOO).

the accent, the general air of unkemptness, the literal scene dedicated to him waltzing into a bar while everyone there is like "heyyy, it's our favourite guy! everybody loves this guy". it all builds up. of course, sans is an infinitely more complex character than this, and these moments are undermined and complemented by his sillier, more heartfelt side. in a way, i could argue that sans is a subversion of the greasy bar-popular guy trope. but i think being comfortable in that masculinity is still a non insignificant part of his character. it fits him like a glove, and he carries it around with the same ease he carries everything else about him. so... I don't really see him changing it or being substantially feminine in any way. it's not so much about "being a cis man", as that masculinity itself that is just, well, part of his persona. which is why you've seen me joke about him being a bulldyke or a transman in the past. they're both identities that center masculinity.

[sanderssideswriting]

the new my roommate is hades is here so let's see if it's any better then the first. It'll go the same as last time, my live thoughts then conclusion/overall thoughts

I still don't like the guy who plays Hades. He's trying soo hard to be edgy and dark but it's so forced.

ahhh exposition about engineering of all things. "You did chemical engineering, why are you taking intro to engineering." "there's different types of engineering Hades. Keep up, you're the immortal one, how do you not know this?" "your lives are insignificant, I can't keep up with every technological advancement, especially these days."

I guess they're trying to put in little bits of educational content like how they said last time that Benjamin Franklin never went to college. But there has to be a better way. But at the end of the day this is just a way to introduce Hephaestus to Thomas, sorry, Homer.

Hephaestus is a nerd, the reminds the teacher of the homework nerd. I do like the jacket though, it's a cool jacket.

soooo the gods just being at this community college is just a known fact? "oh yeah the greek gods? nah that's normal, we had the norse pantheon here last semester. They were great, they threw a ton of amazing parties. Loki was very active in the LGBT group, it was actually pretty cool."

this fucking script god damn. Like I get the message being that "education is important and it's important to always strive to learn new things" but does it have to be so blatant all the time. Is there no such thing as subtly.

all the talking in class is killing me.

Personally if I was trying to show the god of the dead the beauty in humanity and that humans are worthy of caring for I wouldn't drag him to an engineering class of all things. Why not a class on the history of music, art history, a class on literature.

Hermes jump scare, I smiled a little

there's so much exposition

Hades summoned the ghost of Nicola Tesla. why haven't they been booted out for being disruptive???

at least it was pointed out that they're being disruptive to everyone else who are trying to learn

Why is hades being nice and having an emption moment with Thomas Homer? they don't fucking like each other, Hades whole thing is he doesn't care about humanity

this also, just isn't that great of an emotional moment. Like it makes sense Hephaestus is being nice but why's Hades being decent

why was Hephaestus aware of him before they met?

this is a class, not group therapy

I skipped the bit of Thomas Homer standing up to yell at everyone. I got the bit about him telling the teacher to teach everyone and not just praise Hephaestus and yeah, that's fair. If you're going to not explain anything and be a dick of a teach you gotta be equally dickish to everyone

the teacher's a fucking robot. the explains why the teacher knew Hephaestus was a god and why they didn't get kicked out of class

final thoughts are I think that if I was 15 again I'd like it a bit more, back when I was younger and still admired Thomas and worshipped the ground he walked on. But that was a years ago.

Thomas specifically refers to being in a community college, but in community colleges all you can get is an associates degree and credits for a four year school to get a bachelors degree.

The editing, not great, but there was also way less effects, only a dark circle around Hades and the Nicola Tesla ghost being very blue and red lightning when the robot broke that was a few seconds too long.

And of course, Thomas's horribly ill fitting glasses I cannot get over because look at them.

[wuntrum]

Oooh I just started rewatching Twin Peaks yesterday! The last time I saw it was around 4 or 5 years ago. Just putting on the first episode again made me realize how much like home this weird little show feels like to me. It’s been nice to see your enthusiasm for it on my dash :)

may I ask what you enjoy most about the show, or why it appeals to you, if anything comes to mind? I find it’s a bit of an odd one to try recommending to people - I love it, of course, but my taste is a little strange, and I don’t find other fans out in the wild that often.

oooh, that's an interesting question! i think theres a lot of aspects that appeal to me about twin peaks...on a very surface level i love the aesthetics of the show, as someone who lives in new england (pacific northwest and new england are connected pacman-map-style in my mind), the settings and fashion are all excellent. i also love its absurdity, i love the fact that no one talks like a real person and theres people with such weird and distinct archetypes and over the top emotions all colliding with each other---that, and the way it approaches the sort of worldbuilding going on, plus the importance of dreams in the narrative contribute to such an interesting and dreamy atmosphere. i think what makes twin peaks special compared to things that were made after it and were inspired by parts of it is that even when its confusing and strange on a literal level, its always emotionally resonant--you don't need to understand it, because you feel it. the way they're able to set up all the people and relationships in this town so quickly, you really feel like you're a fly on the wall in this living and breathing place, even when its strange. you rarely see how buildings and places connect, but you don't need to because its all so convincing as a woven together location (and of course thats for like logistical/filming purposes, but it creates an interesting effect lol). it uses the familiarity of americana tropes (and even television tropes) and distorts them to create meaning, while still keeping parts of their signifiers intact. even watching it for the first time in 2021 was shocking throughout, so i genuinely can't imagine how it felt catching it live when it was airing, like there was nothing else like it! the fact that david lynch helped to make a prime time television show is something that like logically should never have happened, but i'm so glad it did. i also think on a production/creative level, its so interesting to see how it sort of morphed and developed as the original run and fire walk with me and the return unfolded, like what themes were dropped versus what (at first) insignificant details were given meaning and expanded upon.

i do think it can be a hard sell to convince people to give it a chance--i've had a friend or two try to watch it and say its too slow for them, or it just wasn't clicking. but i've also had more friends really get into it, probably because i have a lot of weirdo artsy friends (i say that with love of course). but i think it's a great gateway into other weird and absurd stuff, or at least it was for me. i also enjoy a good ol "weird thing happening in small town" story, and so it was interesting watching twin peaks and then revisiting stuff that was clearly inspired by it, or at least partially (welcome to night vale, s1 of stranger things...s1 of riverdale. but also i think the return has its own sort of inspiration fuel, like season 4 of barry and beau is afraid struck me in the same way that the return did)