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saintsenara · 2 months ago

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How do you think memory charms work from a brain science perspective, and what might the implications of such technology be? Given the complexities of memory—how it works, its function (e.g., in identity formation, decision making, psychological well-being, etc.)—the fact that these spells are so routinely used on Muggles who witness magic—especially under traumatic circumstances—is so sinister…

thank you very much for the ask, pal! a very interesting question to think about!

as you say, memory is the central part of human experience. it's integral to who we are, why we understand ourselves to be that way, and how we function daily. without the ability to remember things we've learned or which have happened to us in the past, we don't have the ability to understand the present or plan for the future, or apply context to why we behave in or feel certain ways. memory is so important to our understanding of our own existence that many people would say losing it is the thing they fear most...

and i think there's a very credible case for jkr being one of them.

in its understanding of the body, the harry potter series prioritises cognitive function above all things.

physical illnesses, injuries, or disabilities don't upset or frighten it unduly. this is partially because its genre conventions need to take this approach to physical impairment in order for their plots to advance - harry being able to take a bludger to the head and live to tell the tale is the same as john wick being able to fall from the top of a six-storey building, get up, and keep going: they're action heroes, and the person following their exploits wants that action to continue.

but it's also because the series' central theme is choice - and, specifically, the choice between good and evil. this choice - as the books understand it - is something freely and rationally made, with no cognitive impairment preventing it.

[hence - as i've written about elsewhere - voldemort's horcruxes do not - despite common fanon - make him insane.]

as a result, injuries, disabilities, or experiences which lead to a loss of cognitive capacity - thereby making it impossible for choices to be freely made - are presented by the text as uniquely horrifying.

the revelation that frank and alice longbottom can't recognise neville after they're attacked by the lestranges brings a "bitterness harry had never heard there before" into dumbledore's voice.

lupin is primarily ashamed of the loss of rational thought his transformations bring, and the wolfsbane potion works by preventing this loss of rationality:

"As long as I take it in the week preceding the full moon, I keep my mind when I transform... I am able to curl up in my office, a harmless wolf, and wait for the moon to wane again. "Before the Wolfsbane Potion was discovered, however, I became a fully fledged monster once a month."

harry thinks that "bathilda bagshot" [really nagini in disguise] is starting to forget how to perform magic, and equates this loss of function with the dark, dank, foul-smelling house in which she lives.

ariana dumbledore's trauma-induced cognitive disability gradually ruins her family’s lives.

harry, our hero, is never, ever affected by the imperius curse.

and, of course, the dementor's kiss - which canon understands as the single most frightening thing which could ever befall somebody - brings about a state where bodily functions continue, but cognitive ones are lost:

"You can exist without your soul, you know, as long as your brain and heart are still working. But you'll have no sense of self anymore, no memory, no... anything. There's no chance at all of recovery. You'll just - exist. As an empty shell. And your soul is gone forever... lost."

as a result of this, canon presents memories as things which are straightforward and factual. while they may be interpreted subjectively - harry's horror at snape's worst memory, for example - they are - in and of themselves - objective accounts of events. the memories which harry views in the pensieve, for example, are not "witness statements" - subjective, personal accounts of how an individual experienced an event, which might be contradicted by another person's own subjective recollection - they are fact. what they say happened actually happened. sirius' version of snape's worst memory would be identical to snape's.

and canon understands that memories are - therefore - devoid of things like perception, assumption, imagination, habit, and emotion. indeed, these things are not only irrelevant to the memory... they are detrimental to it.

slughorn's attempt to modify his memory of telling tom riddle about horcruxes is because he wishes to soothe an emotion - shame, at giving riddle the information he needed to commit such evil and then not telling anyone - by presenting an imagined version of events in which he looks better. his attempt to apply these two things to the memory are what curdles it. what dumbledore is asking harry to do, in sending him out to retrieve the unmodified memory from slughorn, is to acquire the objective facts:

"He has tried to rework the memory to show himself in a better light, obliterating those parts which he does not wish me to see. It is, as you will have noticed, very crudely done, and that is all to the good, for it shows that the true memory is still there beneath the alterations."

in saying that slughorn's "true memory" remains accessible, what dumbledore is saying is that slughorn should be judged as having full cognitive capacity. he's compos mentis, he's of sound mind. if the true memory did not remain - if slughorn had managed to corrupt his memory to such an extent that he genuinely believed that his conversation with riddle had never occurred [rather than knowing it did but wishing he'd behaved differently and therefore pretending he had] - then he would, in the eyes of the series, be insane.

now... this - unsurprisingly - is not how human memory actually works. memory is fragile, inconsistent, and subjective. we forget things. we misremember things. we remember things through subjective lenses. we invent false memories.

but we can - nonetheless - use what we know about human memory to uncover a wizarding theory of memory formation which would explain why they think this way.

and why they feel so comfortable tampering with people's memories.

[and why this is horrifying.]

what are memories?

in canon, memories are presented as something tangible - wisps of silvery liquid. and memories actually are physical things - albeit absolutely microscopic ones - which take up physical space in the brain. they're just kept out of the way of our conscious awareness until we need them.

[basically, they're christmas lights in a box in the attic. they physically exist and they're physically present in the house, but they sit - turned off and with no attention being paid to them - until they're needed, when they're brought out of storage and switched on.]

they are made - like almost everything to do with the brain - from neurons, which are a type of cell. neurons work like the wires in a telephone exchange - they transmit chemical and electrical signals across the brain [and, therefore, across the body] in a vast, high-speed, interwoven network:

a digital model of the neural network from a sesame-seed-sized fragment of human brain. there are about 50,000 connections shown. [source]

a neuron receives a signal, which it then interprets. it then sends a response [or action potential] along its stem [axon].

at the end of the axon, there are synapses, which form a bridge to other neurons, linking a chain of communication together.

synapses are generally activated by chemicals called neurotransmitters - such as serotonin, melatonin, adrenaline, dopamine [which are likely to be the ones most people have heard of], and others.

so: neuron x receives a signal, interprets it, and transmits that interpretation as an electrical signal along its axon, causing the release of adrenaline into the synapse linking it to neuron y. this activates the connection between neurons x and y. the signal passes across the synapse into neuron y, which interprets it, and the process continues.

each neuron has thousands of synaptic connections to other neurons. and these connections aren't static - they get stronger or weaker depending on exposure. the more we use the connection, the stronger the connection is.

one way to think of this is to imagine the synaptic connection as a volume dial, which controls how loudly two neurons "talk" to each other. if the connection between neuron x and neuron y is very strong, the synaptic connection allows them to shout at each other, thereby understanding each other clearly. if the connection between neuron x and neuron y is very weak, they're only whispering to each other, are having to strain to hear each other, and will probably only partially hear the communicated information.

the brain will therefore prioritise the information it can "hear" the clearest. this is why, if you learn two pieces of information, and then revise the first piece of information every day for a month and do no revision of the second piece, you will find it much easier to recall the first piece when asked - the brain prioritises the "loudest" voice.

when we learn or experience something we create synaptic connections, linking neurons into circuits in an ever-changing map across the brain.

these circuits are memories.

remembering something is the process of activating a specific neuron cluster, thereby retrieving the information it contains and communicating it as an electrical signal to another part of the brain.

this process of remembering can be unconscious - a smell might prompt us to remember something without us actively intending to; when we write something, we're not consciously thinking about how we learned to write, we just do it - or conscious - we might sniff a particular perfume bottle in order to summon up a specific memory; we might intentionally decide to remember a day we spent writing in a particular place.

what are the different types of memory?

there are two main categories of memory - short-term and long-term.

short-term memory is the brain's capacity to actively hold onto a small amount of information [about four things, on average] for a brief period of time [and by brief we mean around 15 seconds - any memory which can be recalled after that period of time is a long-term one] in order to allow you to do things, like take down a telephone number.

long-term memory, in contrast, is something the brain possesses an infinite capacity for. it can be divided into two subcategories.

the first of these is implicit memory. this refers to recollections which are unconscious, habitual, primed, or conditioned. learned motor skills - things like holding a pen or riding a bike - which you can do without having to think about how [procedural memories] are an example of implicit memories. so are things we are conditioned to do via the association of an action with a stimulus - like pavlov's dogs salivating when they heard the ringing of the bell - and things we are primed to do by general knowledge or contextual experience - like being shown the word "bread" in a word association game and responding "butter" without having to actively think about why that connection exists for us.

the second is explicit memory, which refers to the conscious recollection of a specific thing. explicit memory has two subcategories: episodic memory - the recollection of events or experiences - and semantic memory - the recollection of knowledge or information.

i know that belfast is the capital of northern ireland and paris is the capital of france. these are semantic memories.

i know i went to a restaurant in belfast with my partner last week and that i went to watch the french open in paris with my friend this spring. these are episodic ones.

episodic memory is highly dependent on context and association - you can remember where you parked your car by thinking about the shop you parked next to - some of which is semantic memory in its own right - you can tell that your friend has misremembered a story they're telling about your teenage years because you know you were sixteen when the event took place, your friend is talking about driving, and you possess the semantic knowledge that the legal driving age in the united kingdom is seventeen.

explicit memory is the aspect of memory most clearly affected by conditions like alzheimer's disease, while implicit memories tend to be recalled for much longer.

explicit memory is also the thing most clearly affected in canon by memory charms...

how are explicit memories formed?

at its most basic level, the brain is divided into three parts - the cerebrum, brainstem, and cerebellum. the cerebrum is the thing we’re concerned with today.

its main part - comprising about half of the brain’s weight - is the cortex, which is the wrinkly surface you probably picture when you hear the word “brain”. the cerebral cortex is divided into two hemispheres. each hemisphere has four lobes [so you have eight lobes in total] which relate to specific functions.

[here's a video of a dissection of a real human brain - if you fancy it - which goes into its anatomy in more detail]

nestled in each hemisphere of the cerebrum are several deeper structures.

in the temporal lobe, we find two of these structures - the hippocampus and the amygdala - which are crucial to memory formation. we have one of these in each hemisphere [so two hippocampi and two amygdalae in total] as part of our limbic system - a group of brain structures that regulate things like our sense of smell, emotions, memories, and autonomic behaviours [heart rate, breathing, sweating, etc.].

[here's a dissection of the limbic system, again - fair warning! - using a real human brain]

the hippocampus

when our brain decides it wants to hold onto a piece of information, it's channelled from the prefrontal cortex [in the frontal lobe], which controls short-term memory functions, to the hippocampus, which is then responsible for linking all of the relevant context surrounding the information together - like it's making a patchwork quilt.

let's go back to the example of being asked to take down a phone number. and let's imagine that the person who asks us to take down the phone number is also our fandom-style soulmate. several pieces of information will be created in the brain at once - the memory of being asked to take down the number, the memory of physically doing that, the sensory input of what our soulmate looks, sounds, and smells like, other sensory inputs [what the broader environment looks, sounds, and smells like; the fact we're drinking a coffee; the fact we're wearing a scratchy jumper], the emotion of knowing we've met our soulmate - which are then sewn together by the hippocampus into a coherent, linear account of what occurred.

the hippocampus is selective - it's more likely, even in an episodic memory as emotionally powerful as this one would be, to hold onto information which is comprehensible to it [so, for example, if a song is playing when you meet your soulmate, but its lyrics are in a language you don't understand, it's less likely to retain that as a key part of its account than if it's a song you understand and, especially, a song you already know and like].

it's also inventive - it will fill in gaps in the recollection of an episode. these inventions are often logical and based on both your semantic knowledge and parts of your implicit memory. for example, in the memory of being a child and going to hospital to meet your new baby brother, he is likely to be wearing a blue hat. it is highly unlikely that you actually remember the colour of the hat he was wearing - especially if you were quite young - but your brain settles on blue to fill that gap in your recollection because it knows you were raised in a culture which associates the colour blue with baby boys.

but they're also subjective. you may, for example, have more than one memory of the same event - with each memory's patchwork quilt having a slightly different pattern. to go back to the memory of meeting your soulmate, you might have one version of the memory which was stored by your brain on the day you first met, in which the thing you primarily remember is how nervous and awkward you were and how you were worried your soulmate didn't actually like you. you might then have a second version of the memory which is altered by contextual information you learned after the first version was created - after your soulmate asks you to marry them, for example, you are less likely to dwell on the parts of the first memory which are about worrying they didn't like you.

while the hippocampus is integral for the formation of long-term explicit and implicit memories, it's not the place where these long-term memories are permanently stored. instead, long-term memories appear to migrate [or awaken] from the hippocampus throughout the cerebral cortex, and to become progressively more independent of it over time. when it comes to explicit memories, the older, stronger, or deeper a memory is the more likely its independence from the hippocampus will be.

we know this because of a man called henry molaison, who had most of his hippocampus surgically removed in the 1950s in an effort to treat his epilepsy. following his operation, molaison was only able to form new episodic memories which lasted for less than a minute before they vanished forever from his consciousness, and essentially lived every single day as brand new, with no context surrounding it. the exception to this rule was that he could recall memories relating to significant experiences in his life which he'd formed years - and often decades - before his surgery. he could also recall certain facts - semantic memories - which he'd already known, but he couldn't form new semantic knowledge.

semantic memory also appears to become progressively independent of the hippocampus over time, much like implicit memories we have acquired through conditioning or priming. for example, the memory of the first time we drank a coffee while tired transforms into the general knowledge that drinking coffee generally helps us with tiredness, bolstered by the semantic knowledge that caffeine is a stimulant.

the amygdala

in the analogy of memory formation as being like creating a patchwork quilt, the amygdala is responsible for one of the most important squares the hippocampus sews together: the emotional significance of the memory.

this is one of the most important bits of context which the hippocampus applies to its account of a memory. the more emotive a memory is, the more likely it is to be remembered.

and this isn't just the case when it comes to specific episodic memories - such as remembering your wedding day, or the time you were in a car accident. it applies to semantic memory - if i tell you that paris is the capital of france and then punch you in the face, you'll remember it - and to implicit conditioned and primed memories.

imagine you are three years old, you're in the park, and you meet a dog. the dog is on a lead, calm, quiet, and well trained. you are asked if you'd like to pet it and you say yes. the dog is happy to be petted - it wags its tail and it licks your hand - and you enjoy the experience and start laughing.

the hippocampus takes care of the "bullet points" of this event - the actions and the order in which they occurred, where they took place, and so on. the amygdala assigns an emotional response to the specific episodic memory - that is, when you recall it later, you will feel happy - and to the implicit memory you have accrued from the experience - that is, the next time you see a dog, even if it's not the dog you petted, your brain will be automatically primed to feel calm, safe, and happy.

and now imagine you are three years old, you're in the park, and you meet a dog. the dog is loose, agitated, barking, and much bigger than you. it bounds up to you while you're playing and knocks you to the ground. it growls and you see its teeth. you're afraid and start crying.

the same process occurs, but with a fear response. the hippocampus remembers what happened and in what order, the amygdala remembers how the specific memory made you feel and extrapolates from this to assign that feeling to your implicit memory. the next time you see a dog, even if the dog is on a lead and behaving perfectly calmly, your brain will be automatically primed to feel afraid.

and this reference to fear is important. as i've said, the brain prioritises remembering emotional memories… but it prioritises remembering stressful and/or frightening emotional memories above all other kinds. and it also tends to really cling on to things we have acquired by fear learning - the process by which we unconsciously associate a stimulus with a frightening event.

to return to the scenario above, if you met the nice dog first and then met the frightening dog later, your brain would prioritise the memory of the frightening dog. if you met the frightening dog first and then met the nice dog later, your brain would still prioritise the memory of the frightening dog. and even if you lose the ability to recall the specific episodic memory of meeting the specific frightening dog, your brain would still remember that it was afraid of dogs in general.

the amygdala plays a major role in this fear learning and fear-based recall. and it does this via channels of communication which don't need to involve the hippocampus - it communicates bi-directionally with the cerebral cortex, both with and without the hippocampus also being part of the conversation.

and this has an enormous implication for our wizarding theory of memory.

and so - at last - we come to...

the neuroscience of memory charms

we know from canon that memory charms focus on the removal of explicit memories - and, specifically, the explicit episodic memories which the series understands as objective snapshots of events.

we also know that short-term memory and implicit memory can experience collateral damage when the explicit memory is removed - especially if the charm is performed poorly. we learn in order of the phoenix, for example, that gilderoy lockhart lost the ability to write [an implicit procedural memory] after his charm backfired, and has had to undergo something akin to physical therapy [the way someone who'd received a head injury would] in order to regain this motor skill:

"I'm very well indeed, thank you!" said Lockhart exuberantly, pulling a rather battered peacock-feather quill from his pocket. "Now, how many autographs would you like? I can do joined-up writing now, you know!"

we also know that the recovery of an implicit behaviour - his fondness for signing autographs, a response based in an unconscious assumption he makes whenever he meets anyone [that they're a fan] - is taken by his healers as a sign that his self-perception is stabilising:

"He was rather well known a few years ago; we very much hope that this liking for giving autographs is a sign that his memory might be coming back a little bit... This is our long-term resident ward... For permanent spell damage, you know. Of course, with intensive remedial potions and charms and a bit of luck, we can produce some improvement... Gilderoy does seem to be getting back some sense of himself."

crucially, we see here no expectation that any specific memories - episodic memories, canon's factual accounts which prove someone to be of sound mind - will return. what the healer means by "his memory might be coming back a little bit" is something general. a memory charm - as the text understands it - affects something discrete.

but lockhart also shows us that the specific episodic memory impacted by a charm isn't deleted from the brain. it remains in storage - and, therefore, retains the potential to be reactivated.

and he also shows us that this potential reactivation is very likely to depend on an emotional stimulus, especially a negative one:

The smile faded slowly from Lockhart’s face. For a few moments he gazed intently at Harry, then he said, "Haven't we met?" "Er... yeah, we have," said Harry. "You used to teach us at Hogwarts, remember?" "Teach?" repeated Lockhart, looking faintly unsettled. "Me? Did I?" And then the smile reappeared upon his face so suddenly it was rather alarming. "Taught you everything you know, I expect, did I? Well, how about those autographs, then? Shall we say a round dozen, you can give them to all your little friends then and nobody will be left out!"

lockhart clearly associates a stimulus - something to do with harry - with a fear response [probably from being frogmarched at wandpoint and forced to jump into a hole]. this emotional context calls out to an episodic memory it has been severed from, but can't get there and falls silent again, drowned out by the louder activity of the implicit memory, telling lockhart to talk about autographs because these are fans.

so lockhart hasn't lost this specific episodic memory - he just can't access it. from this, we can conclude that memory charms block communication across synaptic connections, thereby preventing a memory from being retrieved.

and we can also conclude that - since wizards regard episodic memories as objective, factual accounts of events, which are unaffected by things like perception, assumption, imagination, habit, and emotion - they only understand the formation of these memories as they happen in the hippocampus. and, specifically, that they understand memory formation only as the hippocampus ordering events into a coherent, linear account - which they regard as objectively correct. we can further conclude that they do not understand anything other than this ordering of events as forming part of the episodic memory process, and, therefore, that they do not understand memory charms as needing to affect anything other than these "factual" snapshots.

which means that a memory charm will block the retrieval of the "bullet points" of an episodic memory from the hippocampus - and, therefore, someone whose memory has been modified won't remember the specific order of events surrounding the memory.

but it won't block the other bits of information - other patches of the quilt of the memory - from being retrieved. it will just remove them from their context.

and - right on the canon page - we learn that this failure to remove anything other than the bullet points, even in memory charms which are accurately and skilfully performed, makes the experience of having a modified memory profoundly disorienting to the person affected.

we see this - for example - in the case of morfin gaunt:

"So the Ministry called upon Morfin. They did not need to question him, to use Veritaserum or Legilimency. He admitted to the murder on the spot, giving details only the murderer could know. He was proud, he said, to have killed the Muggles, had been awaiting his chance all these years. He handed over his wand, which was proved at once to have been used to kill the Riddles. And he permitted himself to be led off to Azkaban without a fight. All that disturbed him was the fact that his father's ring had disappeared. 'He'll kill me for losing it,' he told his captors over and over again. 'He'll kill me for losing his ring.' And that, apparently, was all he ever said again. He lived out the remainder of his life in Azkaban, lamenting the loss of Marvolo's last heirloom, and is buried beside the prison, alongside the other poor souls who have expired within its walls."

morfin's verbal tic is a manifestation of a emotional response which now lacks any other context - the fear caused by his nephew visiting him, on the day the riddles were murdered, and incapacitating him [in a way which would allow him to steal his wand] just before the crime took place. in repeating it, what he's saying is "i know i didn't do this, even though i confessed, but i can't explain how i know this, and i am afraid".

and we know that dumbledore is able to use this emotional clue as the end of a line of string, which he can then follow back across deactivated synaptic connections to the suppressed [and, in canon's view, objective] episodic memory of tom riddle meeting his uncle:

"But he had this real memory in him all the time!" "Yes, but it took a great deal of skilled Legilimency to coax it out of him," said Dumbledore, "and why should anybody delve further into Morfin's mind when he had already confessed to the crime? However, I was able to secure a visit to Morfin in the last weeks of his life, by which time I was attempting to discover as much as I could about Voldemort's past. I extracted this memory with difficulty. When I saw what it contained, I attempted to use it to secure Morfin's release from Azkaban. Before the Ministry reached their decision, however, Morfin had died."

we see something similar in voldemort's treatment of bertha jorkins:

"But Wormtail - displaying a presence of mind I would never have expected from him - convinced Bertha Jorkins to accompany him on a nighttime stroll. He overpowered her... he brought her to me. And Bertha Jorkins, who might have ruined all, proved instead to be a gift beyond my wildest dreams... for - with a little persuasion - she became a veritable mine of information. "She told me that the Triwizard Tournament would be played at Hogwarts this year. She told me that she knew of a faithful Death Eater who would be only too willing to help me, if I could only contact him. She told me many things... but the means I used to break the Memory Charm upon her were powerful, and when I had extracted all useful information from her, her mind and body were both damaged beyond repair. She had now served her purpose. I could not possess her. I disposed of her."

something we are told about bertha jorkins across goblet of fire - including by both sirius and dumbledore, characters the doylist narrative of this book trusts to be telling the truth - is that she loved gossip. and this - feeling intrigued in, scandalised by, and excited by a piece of information - is an emotional response.

voldemort - like dumbledore - seizes on this emotional component as the end of a line of string. bertha provides him with a piece of semantic information - the triwizard tournament is to be played - which makes her think of piece of general information - she knows barty crouch sr., who is organising it - which causes an emotional response which places the string in his hand - barty crouch sr. = scandal. voldemort then follows that string across deactivated synaptic connections to the suppressed [and, in canon's view, objective] episodic memory of bertha discovering that barty crouch jr. [about whom she possessed various contextual information, such as the fact that he was found guilty of being a death eater] was alive.

ergo, memory charms block the point-by-point recollection of specific episodic memories, unless someone is determined either to do a lot of careful forensic work or to commit murder.

but they do nothing to block the additional context - above all, the emotional context - which is so important to memory formation and recollection. and this is what makes the casual use of them - especially the casual use of them on muggles - so terrifying. because their efficacy is dramatically reduced in circumstances where a memory has an emotional context.

and witnessing someone performing actual magic would undoubtedly inspire quite a strong emotional response...

the circumstances in which they work well will be those like tom riddle sr.'s run-in with morfin. the ministry response to the incident is speedy, which means the memory hasn't been consolidated for long-term storage beyond the hippocampus. the incident seems to be the first time riddle ever interacts with morfin - meaning that he doesn't retain a conditioned implicit response that morfin is frightening or dangerous. riddle talks about the gaunts in a way that suggests he thinks they're funny and ridiculous, laughs at bob ogden as he's chased from the shack, and is happy riding along the lane where he was attacked, which shows that he didn't develop a fear response to the incident [nor, indeed, any significant emotional response at all]. preventing him from recalling this memory is simple, and it has no repercussions.

[in terms of his brain health, that is. obviously, it has a major repercussion in that it removes any pre-warning he might have given himself about merope…]

but outside of this context - in which the ministry essentially gets incredibly lucky that riddle sr.'s brain reacts in the only way which actually makes them viable - memory charms are clearly nowhere near as effective as wizards seem to think.

because, when it comes to people's strongest, deepest memories, the only thing being removed is the ability to run through the summary of events - to go down a checklist of what happened, and to contextualise an emotional response [for instance] by situating it within the account of the event which triggered it. the emotions these memories provoke, and the way in which they're bound up into the knowledge which helps us understand our place in the world, remain. all that happens is that these feelings can't be situated in a point-by-point context which explains how they might have occurred.

and so, to come to the memory charm the series thinks is noble and benign... what hermione does to her parents is remove the bullet points surrounding the most important memories of their lives from their heads, leaving profound, lingering emotional responses, which respond to stimuli even though the grangers can't understand why...

when she says that they don't know they have a daughter, what she means is that they don't remember the list of events which proved that fact to be true. mrs granger doesn't remember that she took a pregnancy test which was positive, mr granger doesn't remember that he witnessed hermione being born, neither of them remember taking her to the cinema to see the little mermaid, or buying her first school shoes, or taking her to see her grandparents on her sixth birthday.

but the evidence of canon is that the emotions attached to these events - and the unconscious knowledge which emerges from them - would remain.

and this is why hermione's modification of her parents' memories is an example of the series' black-and-white, protagonist-centred morality which i absolutely loathe. not because the watsonian text isn't horrified by it [why would harry know how memory charms work] but because the doylist text handwaves it away as something easily reversed [via jkr saying that hermione immediately restored her parents' memories the second the war was over] which left no adverse effects.

because - sure - i'm not quibbling with the need to think of hermione's decision to wipe her parents' memories as necessary, but it needs to be understood as one of those horrific choices which only become necessary because the alternative is worse.

and this necessity doesn't erase the fact that what hermione does to her parents is meaningfully no different from what bellatrix and company do to the longbottoms. we see that alice longbottom retains the emotional context to a memory - she knows that she loves neville and wants to give him a present - even if she no longer remembers who he is and what his relationship is to her. the same thing will have happened to the grangers.

and so "monica wilkins" might have found herself driving down a street in suburban melbourne one december afternoon when a christmas song came on the radio… and for reasons she doesn't understand, she burst into tears… and she went home and started making dinner… and she'd adapted the recipe she was using so it didn't have any coriander in it… but she doesn't know why, because she likes coriander just fine, and so does her husband… and then "wendall" came in, and she told him about her strange experience… and he said that he turned on the tv and meet me in st louis was showing and he had to change the channel because he thought he was going to cry… and this made them both intensely uneasy… because they've got no reason to behave so strangely… so irrationally... they don't have any memories associated with that song or that film… right?

but that's because they don't remember the facts of how their only daughter - who's got the coriander-tastes-like-soap gene - only lasted two days of a family skiing trip in december 1995, even though they hadn't spent any significant time with her since august 1994, before she swanned off back into a magical world which seemed to be robbing them of her piece by piece.

they can only remember how sad it made them feel.

#asks answered #asenora meta #real special interest hours who's up?

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dandelionsoda · 2 months ago

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My favourite unrealistic omo scenario right now is using negative reinforcement on a man to make him afraid of pissing (let's say for the sake of his health that he's a vampire or some other kind of supernatural creature that can only consume and pass liquids). There are a few ways to do this. Like for instance every time he pees I punish him brutally for not being able to hold it, maybe by whipping him. Or I make him wear a shock collar and give him a painful shock whenever he goes to the bathroom. Maybe nice once in a while but pretty hard to endure multiple times a day.

Sooner or later he associates pissing with extreme pain and tries to avoid it as much as he can. Inevitably he wets himself a few times, and I punish him accordingly. He gets better at holding it in after some trial and error. Eventually all this training really sinks into his subconscious, and he stays away from the bathroom out of his own "free will" even when he's out of the house or I'm not around. Then after a while I don't even have to punish him at all, he just instinctively holds it for as long as possible. His bladder stretches from always being so swollen and full. It still hurts to keep it in till the very very last second but if he even thinks about the bathroom he's paralyzed by fear and can't bring himself to go near it.

Next I start using positive enforcement, like praise and affection and orgasms, whenever he drinks liquids and the more he drinks the nicer I am. I encourage him to stay overhydrated and needy. It makes the constant holding even harder and more painful but he wants to please me so he gulps down drink after drink even when he's already writhing and bouncing in his seat, brimming over with pee. He lies in bed next to me whining and trembling from head to toe while I stroke his bulging bladder and tell him he's such a good boy for staying so full, gaslighting him and convincing him that he doesn't need to piss ever again. People wonder why he's so weirdly fidgety and anxious and distracted whenever he goes out and its because I keep him permanently bursting. He didn't have a superhuman bladder capacity when we started but he does now. If it was this easy to turn him into my fucked up little Pavlov experiment then imagine what else I could do to his brain...

#omorashi #full bladder #piss desperation #fictomo #pee denial #pee holding #I write such mean scenarios on here I promise I'm nice in real life lol

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suzukiblu · 4 months ago

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WIP excerpt: “Match is technically also a Luthor”. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Match slants his eyes back to Luthor, who still just looks indulgently amused and does not seem inclined to correct his . . . whatever Lena is. She called him “Father”, but since Luthor’s also referred to himself as both Superboy’s and his father, that isn’t necessarily trustworthy intel.

Also, if nothing else, Lena clearly doesn’t know his assignment or understand his purpose here any better than he does, so that also implies her to be a poor source of intel.

“Am I her replacement bodyguard?” he asks Luthor skeptically, because admitting he doesn’t know something is better than making a mistake.

Probably.

“Right now, you’re her babysitter,” Luthor replies dryly, then pauses and amends, “Or she’s yours. I’m still unclear on your capacity for long-term independent function, to be honest, and I wouldn’t trust the opinions of the idiots who plagiarized you even if I had bothered to read them. We’ll fit in some independent cognitive tests at some point this week, I suppose.”

“. . . ‘cognitive’ tests,” Match repeats blankly. “Cognitive” is the last thing the Agenda ever cared about testing him on, because he isn’t supposed to be–he isn’t thinking about anything. Obviously.

Physical tests would make sense. Combat assessments, physical readings, DNA scans; that kind of thing.

. . . then again, he supposes Luthor already knows everything that’s in his DNA, doesn’t he.

Assuming the Agenda “plagiarized” him well enough, anyway.

“To start, yes,” Luthor says. “For now, if anything goes wrong, the security system will alert me. Don’t let her eat too much sugar. Or eat too much sugar yourself.”

“. . . I have no idea what ‘too much’ sugar is for either of our metabolisms,” Match says.

“I’m sure you can google something,” Luthor says, giving him a wry look.

“I have no idea what that is either,” Match says. He doesn’t like admitting not knowing things, for obvious reasons, but also there is no possible way that Lex Luthor can’t pronounce “googol” correctly, and also he can’t imagine how a googol would even be relevant to whatever the hell Luthor is saying anyway.

“Hm,” Luthor says, his eyes narrowing slightly. Match does not let his hackles raise. “I should’ve murdered more people in that lab, apparently.”

“Google Search is a web-based service operated by the American multinational corporation Google LLC as the most popular search engine globally and most-visited website in the world,” Lena informs him promptly, ineffectively pulling at his hands again and using her full weight in a entirely fruitless attempt to get him to move. “It has a share of ninety-two percent of the search engine market and its parent company’s current net worth is valued at 1.97 trillion dollars.”

. . . that seems like something that should’ve been covered in his uploads, yes, Match thinks, eyeing her warily. Assuming she’s actually correct, anyway, which–again, she’s been a poor source of intel so far.

. . . is that even normal information for a kindergarten-aged child to have, either way? Especially one who’s not even intelligent enough to realize how futile trying to drag a telekinetic metaweapon twice her size around without any enhancements of her own is? Match has no idea.

#dc match #lex luthor #lena luthor ii #wip: match is technically also a luthor #superfamily #you know like arguably lol #superfamily RELEVANT at least?

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moonstruckme · 1 year ago

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Hey, I read your James potter fic where reader is insecure about her acne and I was wondering if you could do a similar one where reader has a big nose? (Kinda like a Roman nose?) totally not self projecting!—yes I am— anyways thank you!

Hi gorgeous, thank you for requesting!

Small disclaimer that I imagine James as desi so him also not having a non-euro-centric nose is a part of this :)

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 753 words

When James walks in on you brushing dark powder onto your nose, you feel caught.

“What the hell is this?” he asks. His tone is more comically curious than accusatory, but your face heats anyway. “Babe, I swear every time I leave you alone, you acquire some new makeup thingy I’ve never seen before. And I lived with Sirius, so I ought to know most of them.”

You do your best to blend the powder, sending James a smile in the mirror. “Sounds like you shouldn’t ever leave me alone,” you say.

“Seems the only solution,” James agrees, bringing his arms around your waist. He sets his chin on your shoulder. “What’s this one?”

“Contour,” you say lightly.

James’ eyes cloud with confusion behind his glasses. He regards you in the mirror. “I guess I have heard of that one before,” he admits. “You’re using it on your nose?”

You clear your throat. “Yeah.”

“What for?”

“Just, like,” you’re trying to sound casual, but you can’t really look at him, “to make it look a bit smaller.”

For a minute, James just watches you. You brush at the powder on your nose, unsure whether you’re trying to use it or make it go away. It seems like it looks bad no matter what you do.

“Why do you want to do that, angel?” James’ voice is tender. It tells you he already knows.

“I’m just trying something new.”

“But why would you want to make it look smaller?”

You sigh, and he kisses your shoulder, comforting you even as he interrogates you. “I don’t always love the way it looks,” you murmur.

He lifts his head from your shoulder. You abandon your efforts with the contour, your eyes sticking to your bathroom counter as he moves to your side. Somehow, voicing the insecurity feels worse than the insecurity itself. You’re awash with shame.

“Sweetheart,” James says. “Hey, look at me.”

You tilt your head up. He’s giving you one of those smiles that seems more for your benefit than his, not at its full capacity but beautiful nonetheless. He taps his nose.

“Think you should put some of that on me too?”

You feel your face contort before you can check it, mouth and forehead pinching. “No.” Your voice comes out incredulous. “Of course not.”

“My nose is about the same size as yours,” he says. It sounds like he’s pleading rather than arguing with you, the way he’s speaking so gently. “Why do yours and not mine?”

“B—because,” you sputter, “it’s not for you.”

“Why not?”

You shake your head. You feel backed into a corner. You don’t know why, you just know the way it is.

“Angel,” James says softly. “Look, I know things are a bit different for you than they are for me. No one tells guys we have the wrong nose. But does it seem fair to you that you should feel like you have to hide yours?” He works his hand behind your ear, thumb stroking at your jaw, and you want to argue that you’re not trying to hide it, that you’re just tweaking it if anything, but you’d be lying. “Your nose is perfect,” he insists. “It’s part of the prettiest face I’ve ever seen. You really want to mess with the prettiest face I’ve ever seen?”

He cocks an eyebrow at you, and you try to fight your smile but it wins out in the end. Your boyfriend’s grin magnifies in response.

“I’m waiting for an answer, sweetheart,” he teases.

You roll your eyes. “No,” you mumble.

“Correct,” he laughs, taking your face between his hands.

He squishes your face together so your lips push out. When he kisses you, his nose slides against your own, big and bumpy and perfect. Part of the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen. His mouth pushes on yours with an ardent sincerity.

You remember the contour too late.

James comes away with a smearing of dark powder on his dusky skin. You lick your thumb, wiping at it. He pays you no mind.

“Are we ready to go? Sirius’ll be all moody if we’re late.”

You laugh. “You did this on purpose,” you accuse.

“What?” He glances past you into the mirror and gives an insouciant shrug. “Is this not the look?”

You roll your eyes again, trying and failing to look vexed. “Come here.”

He steps forward gamely to let you rub makeup remover over the smudges on his nose. When you’re done, you do yours too.

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sassenach77yle · 9 months ago

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May 1, 1771 May Union Camp

I glanced sideways, careful not to move in case he was still asleep. He wasn’t. He was lying quite still, though, utterly relaxed, save for his right hand. He had this raised, and appeared to be examining it closely, turning it to and fro and slowly curling and uncurling his fingers—as well as he could. The fourth finger had a fused joint, and was permanently stiff; the middle finger was slightly twisted, a deep white scar spiraling round the middle joint. His hand was callused and battered by work, and the tiny stigma of a nail-wound still showed, pale-pink, in the middle of his palm. The skin of his hand was deeply bronzed and weathered, freckled with sun-blots and scattered with bleached gold hairs. I thought it remarkably beautiful.

“Happy Birthday,” I said, softly. “Taking stock?”

He let the hand fall on his chest, and turned his head to look at me, smiling.Aye, something of the sort. Though I suppose I’ve a few hours left. I was born at half-six; I willna have lived a full half-century until suppertime.” I laughed and rolled onto my side, kicking the blanket off. The air was still delightfully cool, but it wouldn’t last long. “Do you expect to disintegrate much further before supper?” I asked, teasing. “Oh, I dinna suppose anything is likely to fall off by then,” he said, consideringly. “As to the workings . . . aye, well . . .” He arched his back, stretching, and sank back with a gratified groan as my hand settled on him. “It all seems to be in perfect working order,” I assured him. I gave a brief, experimental tug, making him yelp slightly. “Not loose at all.” “Good,” he said, folding his hand firmly over mine to prevent further unauthorized experiments. “How did ye ken what I was doing? Taking stock, as ye say?” I let him keep hold of the hand, but shifted to set my chin in the center of his chest, where a small depression seemed made for the purpose. “I always do that, when I have a birthday—though I generally do it the night before. More looking back, I think, reflecting a bit on the year that’s just gone. But I do check things over; I think perhaps everyone does. Just to see if you’re the same person as the day before.” “I’m reasonably certain that I am,” he assured me. “Ye dinna see any marked changes, do ye?” I lifted my chin from its resting place and looked him over carefully. It was in fact rather hard to look at him objectively; I was both so used to his features and so fond of them that I tended to notice tiny, dear things about him—the freckle on his earlobe, the lower incisor pushing eagerly forward, just slightly out of line with its fellows—and to respond to the slightest change of his expression—but not really to look at him as an integrated whole. He bore my examination tranquilly, eyelids half-lowered against the growing light. His hair had come loose while he slept and feathered over his shoulders, its ruddy waves framing a face strongly marked by both humor and passion—but which possessed a paradoxical and most remarkable capacity for stillness.

“No,” I said at last, and set my chin down again with a contented sigh. “It’s still you.”

[...]

Jamie’s free hand rested on my back, his thumb idly stroking the edge of my shoulder blade. With his usual capacity for mental discipline, he appeared to have dismissed the uncertainty of the military prospects completely from his mind, and was thinking of something else entirely. “Do ye ever think—” he began, and then broke off. “Think what?” I bent and kissed his chest, arching my back to encourage him to rub it, which he did. “Well . . . I’m no so sure I can explain, but it’s struck me that now I have lived longer than my father did—which is not something I expected to happen,” he added, with faint wryness. “It’s only . . . well, it seems odd, is all. I only wondered, did ye ever think of that, yourself—having lost your mother young, I mean?” “Yes.” My face was buried in his chest, my voice muffled in the folds of his shirt. “I used to—when I was younger. Like going on a journey without a map.” His hand on my back paused for a moment. “Aye, that’s it.” He sounded a little surprised. “I kent more or less what it would be like to be a man of thirty, or of forty—but now what?” His chest moved briefly, with a small noise that might have been a mixture of amusement and puzzlement.

“You invent yourself,” I said softly, to the shadows inside the hair that had fallen over my face. “You look at other women—or men; you try on their lives for size. You take what you can use, and you look inside yourself for what you can’t find elsewhere. And always . . . always . . . you wonder if you’re doing it right.”

His hand was warm and heavy on my back. He felt the tears that ran unexpectedly from the corners of my eyes to dampen his shirt, and his other hand came up to touch my head and smooth my hair. “Aye, that’s it,” he said again, very softly. The camp was beginning to stir outside, with clangings and thumps, and the hoarse sound of sleep-rough voices. Overhead, the grasshopper began to chirp, the sound like someone scratching a nail on a copper pot.

“This is a morning my father never saw,” Jamie said, still so softly that I heard it as much through the walls of his chest, as with my ears.

“The world and each day in it is a gift, mo chridhe—no matter what tomorrow may be.”

I sighed deeply and turned my head, to rest my cheek against his chest. He reached over gently and wiped my nose with a fold of his shirt. “And as for taking stock,” he added practically, “I’ve all my teeth, none of my parts are missing, and my cock still stands up by itself in the morning. It could be worse.”

Cap 58 HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU ~the fiery cross

#outlander #outlanderedit #the frasers #outlander starz #jamie fraser #outlander series #outlander fanart #samheughan #jamie&claire #jamie and claire #claire fraser #dr claire randall #claire beauchamp #caitrionabalfe #outlander books #outlander season 5 #outlander 5x07

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iwritenarrativesandstuff · 2 years ago

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The Book: Everything We Know So Far and Possible Connections

The Book's lore is driving me crazy and I had to write this. This isn't meant to be a solid cohesive theory on anything but I wanted to compile everything we know about the Book, some rather disturbing implications of what that might mean, and which characters may or may not have a connection to it, as well as what that connection might be.

This is a long post, so I've bolded the key info. You can skim those if you don't want to go through everything. :)

***Major spoilers for BSD and for Beast!***

Main Series Information:

The first mentions of the Book occur in Chapter 28, when Fitzgerald tells Atsushi that the Guild's goal is to locate it. He tells Atsushi that only one copy of this book exists, and that neither flames nor abilities can damage it.

Fitzgerald claims he knows the Book is there because a prophet ability user foresaw that it had been sealed within Yokohama. When Atsushi asks what the relation is between him and the Book, Fitzgerald says that Atsushi is the guide to the Book.

In Chapter 35, Fitzgerald states that his goal is to use the Book to bring his daughter back to life.

The next mention is in Chapter 46, when Dazai talks to Fyodor in the alley. Dazai mentions that since Fyodor and the Rats don't have the firepower to burn down Yokohama, he instead needs to exterminate Yokohama's ability users to get to the Book, hence the cannibalism strategy.

Dazai says the true Book is a single novel with blank pages where anything written becomes the truth. Fyodor wishes to use it to make a world without the sin of ability users. Dazai says basically "good luck with that dude" lol. (Actually the line is "Give that a go, if you can, that is." which... might be significant?)

Chapter 58: Taneda dumps a lot of info on Ranpo. His assailant, who we know to be Sigma, stole a page from him, a single page removed from the Book in order to study it. The page has exactly the same capacity to make anything written become reality, it just has limited space to write. However, the Book has a restriction: it requires karmic/narrative consistency.

In Chapter 58.5, Mykola's speech about cages and the freedom of birds is ironically dictated word for word by a mysterious author. The translator note on the unofficial version I'm reading says the mysterious author is using imperfect Japanese with lots of katakana - I cannot confirm this myself, but it has interesting implications on our mystery author's identity if true. The page is used to position the Agency as the terrorists in the white hoods and frame them.

Chapter 59: Ranpo believes the Book was not made by an ability user but by something far greater than that. His proof is that unlike Mushitarou's ability, which can also alter reality, the people affected by the Book also have new memories to fit the alteration to the events. The Agency members remember committing the crime, even though they know they didn't.

In Chapter 70, Mushitarou reveals the DoA plans to use the other side of the page to eliminate the country at the next full moon. I am curious as to the significance of the full moon, given the moon's frequent recurrence in the series and Atsushi's ability connection to it. Chapter 74.5 establishes that the Sky Casino, with its 13 year history, was created 8 days ago when the page was written on, as a base for the next stage and also to "repay" Sigma for the use of his ability to retrieve it. In Chapter 75, Fyodor claims that Sigma, too, was written into existence via the Book 3 years ago - he has no memories before this point.

Chapter 77: the page was written with a condition that no police or law enforcement would believe in the Agency's innocence. However, Tachihara broke through that condition by reaffirming his identity as a member of the Mafia, which (metaphorically) tears the page.

Later references don't tell us too much more but I'll summarize them regardless. Kamui/Fukuchi has the page, which Atsushi knows from Sigma's info. Ranpo made an appeal to the police, explaining that the Agency was framed and the page preventing them from seeing the truth, and half the force sees the truth for themselves, breaking through the page's condition. Ranpo believed the direct opposition to the page's restrictions might sway Fukuchi into believing them (unfortunately, we don't know if this was right, as Fukuchi was not affected in the first place, being Kamui himself). And that's what we have so far.

Disturbing Implication #1: The Special Division knows/knew the location of the Book.

Taneda mentions that a page from the Book was taken to study. This implies that at one point, the Special Division had the Book or knew of its location. The higher ups may still know where it is. There are a few potential timelines here: the first is that the page was removed many, many years earlier, perhaps during the war, and the second is that the page was removed and tested 3 years ago, and Sigma resulted from these trials.

Disturbing Implication #2: Ranpo says the Book was created by something greater.

Something greater than ability users. I suspect this may be something outside their world. At this stage, it seems very likely this "greater entity" is an author - the author of the world we read about (it's Asagiri omg). An author, to the world they write, is akin to a god. I'm kind of joking about the Asagiri thing, but the "author" of the Book is likely someone/something that exists beyond the scope of the world of BSD.

Contradiction: The Book cannot be damaged by flame or ability, but pages can be torn out of it? How?

Beast Information:

Oh boy. Where to even start?

Beast Dazai states that the Book is the origin of the main universe's world, and it contains an infinite number of parallel worlds within it.

"What you write becomes a reality" is actually a misnomer. Writing in the Book calls a parallel world that aligns with what is written directly from the Book. This parallel world will then trade places with the real world.

There is a single physical reality, and infinite possible worlds. The Beast universe exists within the Book, as a possible world.

A version of the Book exists in the Beast universe. However, this Beast version of the Book is more of a weakness. Orders from the real world can overwrite Beast. And anyone who tries to write in Beast's Book will make Beast cease to exist.

Beast Dazai jumps at the end of Beast. This is because if more than 3 people know the truth about the Book, the world will destabilize - it may even disappear without Beast's Book being written in.

Beast Dazai created a singularity using his ability. It's not explained how he did this, but it has something to do with his nullification. He did this to read the memories of real-world/original Dazai - the Dazai who exists outside the Book. (It seems all but given that this is Dazai from the main timeline.)

Though the above conflicts with some of what we know in the main manga, we can take it as fact, I think. The narration is heavy on emphasizing that Beast Dazai is telling no lies in this scene.

Disturbing Implication #3: Any alterations are not inventions but transferrals, which means these events actually occurred in another universe.

This means that the Agency really were the DoA terrorists in a parallel world and they did carry out the plan. They really did take the hostages in this world. Tanizaki really did push the button. This would explain their memories. The caveat of no one in law enforcement believing them might make sense too - they're actually criminals in that world, so they would have no reason to believe them. "Trading places" also implies that the terrorist Agency universe has the terrorists trying to save the hostages like the Agency originally planned to do (potentially).

Sigma is an interesting case. If he really was written into existence from the Book, then he was called from another parallel world - literally displaced from his home. His amnesia likely occurred in that parallel world too.

Disturbing Implication #4: The parallel worlds are more fragile than the main world of BSD.

There is something different about our main universe. The Book that originates here is the real deal. But Beast's (and all the Books from different parallel worlds) leave them vulnerable. These worlds can be destroyed at any time if anyone tries to write in these Books. Only a select number of people can know how it really works before it starts to destabilize. What's more, at any point, someone could write in the real-world's Book and overwrite it entirely, and there would be nothing that any of the people within that world could do about it. And Beast Akutagawa, thinking back on the events of the story, comes to the conclusion that even though his world is "but a shadow", the desires, feelings and actions of the people within it make those people no less real than those in the original.

Beast is a goddamn existential horror.

Character Connections

Now, onto the characters who are known to have some kind of connection to the Book.

Fitzgerald wanted the Book in the Guild arc to bring back his daughter. While this is the first mention of it, given that he got his info from clearly secondhand sources (the prophet ability user or Fyodor, most likely), I don't think he has any sort of deeper understanding of it, nor a more personal connection. Ranpo seems to be figuring out the Book's logistics rather quickly, but I expect nothing less from the greatest detective, and he doesn't have a strong personal connection I can see as of yet. As for Fukuchi, whatever knowledge he gained 36 years ago might be connected... but again, I have nothing else to say on this front, considering we have little else on this (I'm actually more inclined to think it has to do with the war - which may tie in with the Book, but not necessarily). I would also be very surprised if Mori doesn't know something but I have no real evidence for this other than that the man is suspicious as hell. Then again, there's also Tokoyami Island, which "appeared" seemingly out of nowhere and is where Yosano's backstory took place and Fukuchi headed after his argument with Fukuzawa. It seems possible, if not likely, that it was created with the Book. So, let's go over some characters who we actually can expand on a little.

Taneda

Not much to say here other than what kind of research was being done with the Book? Given that Taneda had the page on him, was he the one responsible for the research being conducted on it, or was he just involved?

What kind of research was being done with the page? How were they testing it? The page was blank, so they must not have created anything with it yet. How then, did Taneda know how it worked and that the page would have the same capacities as the full Book?

Taneda doesn't seem to understand the Book completely - he thinks it was created by an ability user, after all, and like everyone else in the main universe he doesn't know the reason the Book requires narrative consistency (that it is pulling from other worlds, not just making anything written come true).

The Special Division likely had the Book at one point, but by the time Fitzgerald comes to retrieve it, it has been "sealed". Did the Special Division seal it? Why and how?

Atsushi

We know he has a lot to do with it. Atsushi and the Book are incredibly intertwined, and the initial conflict was kicked off by a bounty placed on his head for this connection.

He is called the "guide" to the Book. What does that mean? Is he meant to locate it? Unlock the seal? Or is he a guide on how to use it properly?

6 years ago, Shibusawa found Atsushi at the orphanage when he was just a kid and tortured him to extract his ability. He was a researcher who learned about the tiger from Fyodor, who called Atsushi's ability "one that guides the envy of all ability users". And we know Fyodor has been after the Book for a long time, so it's difficult to imagine this does not have something to do with it.

Atsushi is the only character to directly reference a real-life novel in the series and recall reading it. "The head may err but never the blood" and "I only regret what I haven't done" are from the real Nakajima Atsushi's "Light, Wind, and Dreams", a fictionalized autobiography detailing the last few years of the life of Robert Louis Stevenson. While other characters quote their namesakes' fiction on occasion, to my recollection, Atsushi is the only one who explicitly remembers reading the book, but finds himself unable to remember the author's name. Cute reference, or plot significant? You decide.

Atsushi's tiger is heavily associated with the moon, particularly the full moon. For some reason, the other side of the page is to be used at the next full moon and cannot be used sooner. Atsushi's ability crystal, pulled out of him by Shibusawa as a child, is described as "pale and glittering like the moon".

It is entirely unlike the red crystals that form in the Dead Apple separated abilities - including Atsushi's tiger (also red). It is, however, similar to Dazai's, which is white. Atsushi transforms into the tiger to swallow the moon-like crystal - to reiterate, it was outside him when he transformed. What's more, from Beast it's known that this instance was when his ability apparently activated for the first time - how could it do that if it was already removed from him? Later on, Shibusawa tries to take the crystal again and Atsushi's transformation deteriorates, that's true, but bear in mind that Atsushi was convinced that crystal was the tiger, which may have psychologically influenced this. In fact, the moon crystal may not be the tiger at all. It is entirely possible it is something else, and it is likely that which makes Atsushi so sought after. If it is, I refuse to believe this has nothing to do with the Book.

Atsushi's ability is described as the "spark of life that resists all abilities". A reference to his healing factor, perhaps? Or something more meaningful?

He's also referred to as an "angel" by Shibusawa who canonically got his information from Fyodor so... make of that what you will.

Tachihara

This isn't so much about Tachihara having significance in future but more about what his breaking of the page's conditions might mean.

At the crux of this is his split identity - he's a Hunting Dog, but also a mafioso, and his struggle between these identities is his core conflict in the Sky Casino arc.

Eventually, Tachihara, recalling Hirotsu and Gin's words that anyone in the Mafia knows that the Agency is innocent, frantically realizes they have the wrong culprits, thus breaking through the page's caveat that all law enforcement would never believe them, accompanied by a metaphorical tear in the page.

It's intriguing because we don't see this same dramatic depiction later on with the police when Ranpo appeals to them - Tachihara has changed his expected role from police to mafioso. Tachihara is no longer playing the "character" he was meant to play.

He tore out of that restriction in the story. His story line is now on a different path. There are some serious implications of that if a change in character can literally break people free of the Book's reality-altering influence. It is all-powerful so long as everyone plays their expected role in that narrative. Breaking out of that can change the story, even if only minutely.

Sigma

Of course Sigma is connected. He was apparently written into the Book three years ago - which means he came from one of the parallel worlds. (Provided Fyodor is telling the truth about his origins, but I think it would be very strange narratively if this wasn't - at least partially - true.)

I am curious if Sigma will regain some of his memories soon, or if it is even possible for him. If he can regain memories, then they would be from a world within the Book. Or, perhaps his memories don't exist because that world has been overwritten and no longer exists?

Is it possible for Sigma to communicate between worlds using his exchange of information? Maybe this is completely out of left field... I'm just curious what role Sigma is going to play in all this.

It's strange, for someone so obviously connected I... really don't have much to say about him. I just think we don't have enough.

Mykola

There isn't too much to say for certain about him, but I know I was super uncomfortable with his entire speech about birds and cages and freedom being dictated in real-time by the page. That's rough, buddy.

As of this moment, he's supposed to be dead, but somehow defied his fate and is still alive. He decided not to play the role ("character") he was previously meant to, and now he is the cast's biggest wildcard.

Mykola's fixation on freedom at all costs may have some interesting implications for his interactions with the idea of the Book. When his words were written on the page, was the page dictating his speech, or was it merely recording what he was already saying? If the Book is the story, then does the story control the characters, or, as it has been implied by Mykola and Tachihara, can the characters defy the story? When they defy the story, the story changes to accommodate this. Have they really, then, defied anything of significance at all? (For clarity: I don't know if this is where BSD will go with it - in actuality, I'm always confused when people theorize the Book's author is evil and controlling, or that the series will end tragically, given how much BSD loves to emphasize the importance of writing and reading and understanding and living. This is just an example of a few possible questions it may make sense for Mykola to fixate on.)

I don't have a lot to say for certain, but given his need to be free, his connection with Fyodor, and his Dazai-foiling traits, I'd think it very odd if he wasn't involved to some extent.

Dazai

...where to even start.

Dazai clearly knows things about the Book. He appears to know much of what Fyodor does, and it makes me curious as to whether it came up when they first met (whenever that was).

However, main series Dazai doesn't seem to have all the info Beast Dazai does. For one thing, he too echoes that the Book makes all that is written into it become reality. He may know about the parallel worlds within it and could just be lying by omission, but I've seen very little to suggest that this is the case.

Main series Dazai appears to know about certain events long before they occur (not everything though; I need to remind people that he can and has been thrown off/wrong about things before) - notably, most of these planned events revolve around Fyodor. He's been preparing Atsushi and Akutagawa specifically to deal with the upcoming threat posed by Fyodor's pursuit of the Book.

Beast Dazai was somehow able to read the memories of real-world Dazai by creating a singularity with his ability... somehow. It's assumed he must've created it while in contact with the Book (otherwise how else could he have read the memories) but it's actually not elaborated on and we still have little to no details.

If his nullification caused a singularity, then how? Was it a singularity with the Book? Himself? Whatever the Book was sealed with/in? Singularities are still quite mysterious, but they need to involve one of two things - an insurmountable contradiction, or an uncontrollable increase in power with no way to cap it. Given that nullification doesn't lend itself to an increase in anything, it's likely an inherent contradiction.

I think it pretty obvious that Dazai has some special knowledge of the Book; some connection to it. He's been preparing to combat Fyodor for many, many years, and he seems to want to take Fyodor out as quickly as possible. Clearly, his potential use of the Book is a big deal to Dazai and worth putting his full effort into preventing, which is a little odd, honestly, considering he only met him once before the events of Dead Apple. Fyodor must've really made a terrible impression on him.

Where did he come from? There's that post about how Dazai is in everyone else's backstory for some reason, but we don't know his yet. Here's what we do know: He has some kind of connection with the Old Mafia Boss. He wandered around Yokohama for awhile. He's not related to Mori or an orphan he picked up.

While I've seen suggestions that Dazai met Fyodor in the 2 year gap between his leaving the Mafia and joining the ADA, I think there's reason to suggest he may have met Fyodor before he ever joined the Mafia, as a young child. Just bringing it up as a possibility because Beast Dazai's forming of a singularity with it sounded intentional - which means at 16, he would already have known what the Book was. Did he get his knowledge from Fyodor? Someone else?

Why did young Dazai become so listless and unable to find a reason to live? How did he become convinced that he will lose everything he wants so badly to keep when he gets it? Why did he think he could predict everything in advance? Is it just his intelligence and observation? Or is there more to it than that?

While I'm not a huge fan of the "Dazai is the Book" theory (given that it would make him literally inhuman, which I think runs antithetical to his story), on reviewing all this I've come up with a new incredibly deranged and not-at-all-sound theory:

Dazai is the Book's seal. In this essay I will -

Fyodor

First of all, we know hardly anything about him. We don't understand his ability. We don't even know how old he is. He's been with V/the Decay of the Angel for many years apparently... he was involved in Shibusawa's actions... he has some kind of a history with Dazai... he perfected the art of dramatically standing on windy roofs... truly, he's an enigma.

On a more serious note, all we know is that he wants the Book to create a world free of ability users. Free of sin.

This doesn't seem to fully align with Fukuchi's goal. My proof? They have differing concepts of "angels".

Fukuchi's "angels" borrow from the Buddhist concept of Devas and also likely references Mishima Yukio's The Decay of the Angel. Fukuchi tells Tachihara that the angels are the politicians who remain in their lofty seats and send soldiers into war to die. His goal isn't revenge per se, but it does appear to involve dethroning them in a sense. He doesn't mention wiping out ability users nor of having any particular ill-will towards them.

However, Fyodor's concept is closer to the Abrahamic concept of angel, what with the numerous references to original sin, the script for the play in Untold Origins speaking of angels banished by God for their sins, etc. What's interesting is that the play emphasizes ability users as "angels" who have regained some of their prior powers (I find it difficult to believe Fyodor was not involved in the creation of this) - so Fyodor's "sinful angels" are likely ability users. What does this mean for their goals? Are they still aligned? Is the undermining of government necessary for the elimination of ability users? (Also quick note: do not quote me on any religious stuff - I am not religious myself. I do research sometimes but I'm very, very far from an expert ahaha.)

So, now: Cannibalism was part 1 of the DoA's plan, and all the ensuing stages will culminate in the use of the other side of the page.

Firstly, there's the obvious "what will the other side of the page be used for?"

But then there's something else. By the time Cannibalism occurred, the pieces were already in place for the next phase of the plan, where Sigma would steal the page from Taneda. Why then, does Fyodor still claim, on numerous occasions, to be after the Book? The page should be able to accomplish anything the Book can. Either there is something misleading in the information we have been told, or there is something he wants to do with the Book that isn't writing in it. I think the former is more likely but I digress, the latter is still a possibility.

A few more outstanding questions: Why was he spreading info on Atsushi to Shibusawa and presumably Fitzgerald, but not going after Atsushi himself? Wouldn't he want Atsushi as the Book's guide?

What is his connection to the prophet ability user Fitzgerald mentioned - is it him, with his uncanny predictive powers? Is it someone else associated with the DoA? Is it someone in the government? How long ago was this prediction made - was it made long enough ago that this is why V was active in Yokohama?

There's a lot that's very confusing about Fyodor, and I don't think we know nearly enough about him to make proper predictions as to his relation to the Book yet.

Akutagawa

He's only really tangentially related to it through his connection to Atsushi - if any showdown is going to happen involving the Book, you can bet he and Akutagawa will be teaming up for that.

At the same time, Dazai selected Akutagawa as a mentee a long time ago, and he's been planning for them to work together since he met Atsushi, specifically so they can prevent Fyodor from achieving his goals. In Beast, he mentions their abilities form a singularity together - likely that ability to "cut through anything".

I know this may be entirely wild and out of left field but if it can cut through anything... could it damage the impervious Book? Could it even destroy it? Or maybe it could destroy whatever is sealing it? Who knows, but it makes me think they're going to have to destroy something. (Interesting how this runs counter to sskk's need to act as protectors of the Book in Beast... so maybe it will be in defense. It's all so unclear.)

There's also the whole "dragon is the manifestation of the chaos of ability users". Atsushi and Akutagawa are the tiger and the dragon, at odds with each other via rivalry but also in balance. I think it would be very strange if Atsushi's ability were unusual but not Akutagawa's.

In addition to all the above, I am also side-eyeing all the author characters in this series. For one thing, there's very few of them. For another, two of them have died, changing the path of their respective best friends' lives - and in a series that actually... doesn't kill that many named characters off permanently, it's worth taking a look at.

Yokomizo wanted to transcend the boundaries of fiction in his writing to create a mystery that bled into reality - the ultimate mystery. Mushitarou writes to see his friend again, to connect with him through his greatest passion. Poe's ability allows him to take real people and pull them into constructed narratives that can be escaped once they are "solved" - when the story reaches its conclusion. He is also the one who spurs Mushitarou into writing to cope with his loss.

Natsume wrote a few books as well. We don't know completely what they were about (and from my brief research they don't seem to correspond perfectly to his real life novels - might be a reference to Kokoro but the story does not appear to be the same...), but at least one was a series of three novels, with the last featuring an assassin who stopped killing, but Natsume derided these books and said they were not very good. He tore out the last few pages from the third, final book that explained why the assassin changed his path, and gave the book to a young Odasaku with a note "Don't blame me if you regret [reading] it".

Odasaku wanted to complete that novel. It completely changed his perspective on the world and opened his eyes - he re-read it multiple times (if I remember correctly, he also read it over and over to a wounded and exasperated Dazai in TDIPUD lol), and the lack of an ending bothered him immensely, not just because the story was incomplete, but because the scene was necessary to understanding the assassin's character. Odasaku wrote to understand himself and others, because writing novels is writing people. Natsume seemed to think he was uniquely qualified to do so, but Odasaku disagreed, thinking that someone who took lives was in no position to write about them - to understand them.

Odasaku dies. In every universe, and before he gets the chance to write the novel that sits in his mind - except in Beast, where Dazai painstakingly maintained the world to ensure he stayed alive. It seems oddly specific that this one random person should die before having the opportunity to write the story he wished... and I have to wonder if the universe really doesn't want him writing that book for some reason. And if that's the case, then is there any reason (beyond saving Oda from killing) why Natsume encouraged him to do so?

As a bonus, in the anime, Odasaku is the one to title drop "to the stray dogs" as a cheers, which Dazai will later echo. This doesn't happen in the novel... but if you look back at the difference between the anime Book and the manga Book - you'll notice the manga Book's cover is blank. The anime's says "Stray Dogs". Could be something, could be nothing. But it's worth mentioning.

And that's pretty much it for now! As we get more info, I'll continue to update this post. If anything here gives you ideas, please feel free to ramble about it in the tags or comments, or shoot me an ask! I love to read all your thoughts. :)

#this is so long. if you made it through... congratulations! you are probably just as obsessed as i am hgnkvhgvnskf #feel free to add on. these aren't full theories or anything and a lot are just suggestions or open ended questions #i hope this is a helpful reference and at least sparks some interesting thoughts!#bsd #bsd meta #bsd the book #i don't want to tag everyone...#so i won't lol #storyrambles

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vegageshsworld · 6 months ago

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WHAT ARE SUBLIMINALS?

subliminals are audio affirmations hidden under music or sounds of nature, they are aimed at changing internal attitudes, changing internal and external states

there are subliminals aimed at correcting health in all its manifestations (there are "local" subliminals that are aimed at healing a specific organ/state); there are also subliminals aimed at transforming consciousness, any external characteristics and defects, etc.

it is worth saying that there are countless subliminals, it is only important to know which subliminals can be useful!

HOW DO SUBLIMINALS WORK?

passing through our consciousness, which does not perceive voice instructions disguised under various sounds, so positive affirmations get into our subconscious, where they are fixed. our consciousness is a unique mechanism and sometimes it is capable of independently putting up blocks, thereby preventing ordinary affirmations that we ourselves pronounce from being fixed. therefore, we can say that subliminals have the ability to deceive our consciousness

WHAT ARE THE RULES FOR EFFECTIVE LISTENING?

it is worth starting with the fact that there are two main types of subliminals:

subliminals created on the basis of binaural beats (usually, this is indicated in the description of the subliminals), such subliminals are usually listened to either in a calm state or while running/walking and in both headphones;

subliminals created on the basis of ordinary affirmations disguised as music/nature noise. such subliminals can be listened to anywhere and in any way: you can listen without headphones, you can listen while you are doing your own thing (writing, drawing, cooking, washing, etc. - which, by the way, you can’t do when listening to subs based on binaural beats)

you can listen to subs as many times as you like + include listening to them in your list of “daily rituals” - for the desired results to appear faster, consistency and regularity are necessary!

how not to get hung up on the results and how to get maximum results after listening to any sub (in general, I want to combine these two topics, because if you do not get hung up on the results, then, a priori, you get what you want)

───── ⋆⋅♡⋅⋆ ─────

what advice could I give, based on my experience of listening to subs?

work with thinking, first of all! - add subliminals to your playlist that remove internal blocks and limitations; add subs that help your subconscious "earn" at full capacity; add boosters; also, do not underestimate meditation (at one time they really helped me calm down and achieve harmony, from which the subs began to act more effectively)

try to just lag behind yourself. yes, that's right. continue listening to subliminals, but remove all sorts of expectations from your head. the only thoughts you should have are "yes, I know that the results WILL STILL BE", "I just know that EVERYTHING WILL HAPPEN EXACTLY THE WAY I WANT"

stop going to the mirror every second and looking at how your appearance has/hasn't changed, stop waiting for anything, and just believe that everything will happen exactly the way you want. the only thing you can't know is the time frame in which certain changes will happen to you. and there will still be cuts after listening to subs, it's just that for some people they will be more or less pronounced

also, in order not to get hung up on cuts, you can find yourself a certain hobby (my hobby is video editing, where I am very distracted from all sorts of thoughts and listen to subs during it, just like that)

I would advise people who are not very receptive to subs to turn on subs at night and fall asleep with them, because our subconscious is on different frequencies during sleep and functions a little differently, being in a state of rest. therefore, as an option, listening to this can also be a good catalyst for the manifestation of the desired results

healthy sleep is also important (7-8 hours a day)

───── ⋆⋅♡⋅⋆ ─────

YOU WILL BE OKAY, I KNOW IT!! I LOVE YOU!! <3

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edelgarfield · 6 months ago

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I am genuinely so sick of seeing the take that "man's hubris caused the calamity" and that being used as "take that!" against the people of Aeor, who largely were not even alive during the start of the Calamity, & who, regardless of the reason, have had to live in a world ravaged by the gods' conflict.

Avalir and Aeor were far from perfect & the ruling class certainly was full of hubris & elitism, but blaming mortals as a whole for the Calamity is so incredibly fucked up. Avalir as a whole did not collectively decide to invite the Betrayer Gods into the Material Plane. The largest instigators of the Calamity were:

1. Vespin Chloras, who was following in the footsteps laid by the Raven Queen, and

2. Zerxus, who was manipulated by Asmodeus, and

3. Asmodeus, who despises mortals because he blames them for the rift driven between the Prime Deities & Betrayer Gods.

Like I can't speak to Vespin Chloras but I genuinely cannot find it in myself to blame Zerxus, a mortal man, for being manipulated by the God of Manipulation, or for believing in redemption and forgiveness. You can think he was foolish to fall for it, but being gullible or having faith isn't a sin. There's a bunch of arguments that "it's arrogant for a mortal to believe himself deserving of forgiving a god" and I won't argue that Zerxus had some arrogance & self-righteousness. But I just. I do not and will never believe that divine beings are morally superior to mortals.

there's this idea that the pursuit of godhood/power is inherently corrupt, and to an extent I'm inclined to agree (I started a whole rant here abt this, but that's a different post). but hand in hand, there seems to be this idea that the gods themselves are shielded from that same corruption, which I simply don't think is true. whether mortals are capable of wielding the power of a god without being destroyed is a separate issue to its morality. something being inherently risky/unsafe does not automatically mean it's wrong. but I don't understand how people can say it's irresponsible/evil for mortals to pursue godlike power, or that they can't be trusted to wield that power, without applying the same logic to the gods themselves. It doesn't make sense to me that the pursuit of power is wrong, but the ones who actually wield that power, sometimes violently & unfairly, only ever wield it responsibly.

in fact, I think that without any sort of power to resist the violence & will of the gods, the gods are left completely unchecked to use Exandria in whatever capacity they choose to. that's an extremely dangerous thing for anyone living on it, and asking mortals to simply trust that the gods will never act against the people of Exandria is an extremely cruel thing. If people choose to have faith in the gods & their will, that's wonderful. But faith being a requirement just to live peacefully, & deeming anyone without faith sinful & arrogant is unfair.

it's not morally bankrupt to desire freedom from the will of the gods. it's not corrupt to want mortals to carve their own path. it's not evil to question what you've been told about the world.

The idea that "man's/Avalir's hubris caused the Calamity" feels like a fantasy version of "humanity is causing climate change" or "humans are inherently evil," which are extremely unpopular opinions on Tumblr. It's attributing actions taken by one or a small group of people to humanity as a whole. It's blaming humanity for being manipulated by a higher power. It's holding mortals responsible for their own murders.

#cr spoilers #cr3 #cr downfall

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talenlee · 9 months ago

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Why Is Druid?

Say that like ‘where is Wizard Hut?‘

I love the 4e Druid. This is a marked change from how much I liked the 3e druid, or how often you might see me playing a druid in a Baldur’s Gate game. Back in 3rd edition, the druid, despite being very powerful, never really engaged me, in part perhaps because I was always trying to find something exploitative and powerful rather than merely accepting the juggernaut of a toolkit the game just left in the Player’s Handbook. You couldn’t get clever with the Druid, you just had to pick it up and use it, like some sort of society of creative anachronisms where one of the anachronisms available to the players was has gun. Valid, but hardly sporting.

The Druid in 4th edition is different. Wildly different. Weirdly different, and different in one of those ways that shows what I think of as a seam in the design between 4th and 3rd editions of D&D.

The Druid was one of 3rd edition’s great mistakes, a full spellcasting class with healer capacity to serve as a pinch-hitter healer in a group that wanted things a little more varied, addressing an enormously complex potential build from its earlier edition, 2e, and all in the process, resulting in some deeply confused mash up of abilities that attempted to address confusion with volume. The druid of 2e had a special unique set of rules compared to the Cleric — for example, at a certain level, you passed into a specific category of Druidic ability and now you were technically a Hierophant, and Hierophants had seven extra spells of every level. Of course there was a limited supply of Hierophants in the world, so there was a question of if you could level up if another one existed, and maybe there’s a one-in, one-out policy? First in, first fired?

Anyway, I can’t speak to how it played, but I am at least aware, on the edges of it, that the 2e druid was odd. It had a lot of things it could do, but much of how it worked, reading the books, seemed to be interesting but challenging to manage. You could wild shape, you could heal, you could cast utility spells, you could even fight with some melee weapons — personally, I didn’t see any of it worth it, because none of the things it could do it could do very well.

3e addressed this seeming difficulty by instead taking all those different options and bringing them all up to the same level. Wild Shape worked by checking traits of monster units, which meant that you weren’t limited to specific reinterpretations of animals and instead could do what a druid feels like it should do — you know, turn into an animal. The spells were rebalanced and shared across different classes, which meant that they tended to work in a more standardised way. Armour rules were aggregated, and weapons were made less terrible.

The result was that the 3e druid went from being ‘decent’ at a bunch of things to ‘good’ at everything it wanted to do. The problem of the druid then became about picking the thing you wanted to at every opportunity, and doing a good job of it — you’d have druids carrying wands of healing so they could dedicate their spell slots to more important tasks, like Flame Striking opponents, or messing up the battlefield with roots. You’d also see druids keeping the ‘best’ list of animals on hand, and every new monster book presented a new chance for druids to develop a new best form.

It also created the strange question of What does the druid do?

The answer was ‘everything.’

The 4e Druid, in comparison and contrast to these designs is something very different that touches, at best, on the periphery of what the 3e Druid could be. I mean it stands to reason, you can only ever touch on doing everything when something you’re working from is so powerful. 4e with its role system of Defender, Striker, Leader and Controller, and its reliable, reusable balance math suddenly was confronted with fitting an elephant into a shoebox.

How do you represent something busted that could do everything in the context of a new system that sought to explicitly prevent that? I joked when the game was new that the four roles were Defender, Striker, Leader and Miscellaneous. That any class too powerful, with too much stuff it could potentially do, got thrown to the Controller role as suggested by the first Controller we ever saw being the Wizard. Oh and back in Player’s Handbook 1, the Wizard had a few builds that were pretty ridiculously pushed — the pinball wizard, I’ll talk about it sometime — and that meant that it was easy to feel like the Controller Does Everything.

That impression diluted through experience, of course, and eventually it came to that while yes, the Controller sure has some Miscellaneous vibes, the core of what the Controller was there to do was to attack the enemy action economy. Nice and obvious to a non giga-nerd, right? Okay, how about this: The leader lets you do more things, the controller stops them from doing more things?

And into this space, they poured the druid.

It works beautifully, for my tastes; the druid needs to do lots of things to feel properly druidy, but you need to make sure the doing lots of things doesn’t unbalance the game. Controllers have the widest variety of things they can do and ways they can do them – inflicting status conditions, changing enemy position, preventing specific action types, making areas on the battlefield inaccessible, these are all ‘controllery’ things, and that means there’s a lot of different ways you can flavour them. The Invoker is most famous for making zones in the play space hard to deal with, the Wizard has a build that slides things all over the place, and the psion controls people with immense penalties to their damage rolls.

Obligatory pause where, while reading this aloud, for either Fox or I to comment on how amazing it is that Dishearten is an AOE power.

Anyway, the druid was designed to be a mode switcher class. That is, there are two ways a druid can do things. One is a melee controller that makes a single target’s life harder, the other is a ranged controller that makes a large group of enemies’ lives harder. This mode switching then adds a new element to the class that your powers can interact with, where you now have control powers that can add a mode switching element to them as well. This is your Wild Shape – you transform into some kind of nonspecific beast, which can use your Wild Shape powers. Each form has fewer powers to manage, and you can build your druid to specialise in one or the other or do a mix.

This lets the druid do the ‘a lot’ without letting them actually do everything. You have a lot of choices and a lot of ways to play with those pieces, but even just how often you use the mode switch is part of what the druid does to control the battlefield. When I first played a druid, it was not uncommon to start a fight out of wild shape, use the first turn to make some kind of area control power, then shift into wild shape for the rest of the fight kicking people into that area control power. There are druids builds that work like wizards and only ever shapeshift to get away from problems, and make a hit while scuttling away, or to sit on a specific type of problem. There were druids who focused on summoning monsters and using them as kind of turrets on the battlefield, positioning allies in a way that benefitted them around those summons.

Lone artillery combat encounters, where you have a bunch of stuff in front of a long-ranged attacker? Druids love those. Even at level 1, that artillery is spending their days completely stuck underneath a Fire Hawk power.

Problem is, of course, that if you want to do Everything doing a Lot is going to miss something. That was what led to the subclasses of the druid, the ones that added healer elements to the druid, because the druid back in 3e could do that. It added animal companions, because the druid back in 3e could do that. Now I don’t worry too much about these things because if I wanted an animal companion on my Druid, I’d take a theme for that, but also because these changes were introduced in an Essentials book.

Which is to say, they’re crap.

They’re not crap crap, like I try to defend Essentials as giving players a choice for simplified character builds, but in the specific case of the Essentials Druids, in order to work with the simplified choices, these Essentials druids with their animal companions and their healing powers have to look at all other Druid powers and not use them. The only use they get out of their animal companion is using the specific subset of powers that make them work, and that makes combat more samey. But again: That’s a thing you probably want if you want a simplified build.

Still, it gives rise to my favourite joke – I mean like, funny thing, not really a joke, there’s no subversion of reality or anything here – about the Healer Druid. See, every Leader in the game gets an encounter power, usable twice a combat at level 1, that heals an ally with a bonus. Every class gets their own version that lets them distinguish their class specifically and add some interesting detail that shows how this Leader differs from other Leaders.

The Healer druid build gets Healing Word.

The Cleric power.

Literally, the same power, same name, listed as a Cleric power.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

#DnD 4e #Dungeons &amp; Dragons #Games

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hot-claws-420 · 3 days ago

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[AFTER ACTION REPORT]

[UPLOAD DELAYED BY: {29}DAYS]

[NOTIFYING COMMAND OF OPERATION: @albatross-lancer]

[GREETINGS. I AM OMA, ONBOARD MEDICAL ASSISTANT TO CALLISIGN {SINGED WHISKERS}. WHILE DOING ROUTINE MAINTENANCE, I HAVE PARTIALLY RECOVERED {1} FILES DAMAGED BY REACTOR STRESS DURING OPERATION {SIEGE OF ERDAF}. DESPITE THE DELAY, I AM REQUIRED BY MY DIRECTIVE TO RELAY THIS REPORT TO COMMAND {ALBATROSS}. NOTE, INFORMATION ON PILOT AND MECH STATUS IS OUT OF DATE AS OF NOW. PLEASE STAND BY FOR FILE UPLOAD...]

[CALLSIGN: SINGED WHISKERS; STATUS: ALIVE]

[MECH DESIGNATION: SLAG KITTY, ENKIDU UNIT; STATUS: DAMAGED, STRUCTURE FULL, REACTOR STRESSED {1} TIMES, SINCE STABILIZED]

...<UPLOADING MISSION RECORDING>

[An ever growing view of the side of Pirate Vessel "Direption." Its hull has been punctured by some manner of breach charge. More and more debris floating around the massive hole becomes clear as the mech rapidly moves closer. SLAG KITTY appears to be carried by another, mounted mech, boosting to build speed.]

Callsign Photon: Releasing you in T-15 seconds. Ready?

[RELEASING COMBAT STIMS DOSE ONE]

Callsign SINGED WHISKERS: HHRRRHMMMM fucking KILL!!!

Callsign Photon: That... sounds like a yes. Dropping. Slowing myself and covering your six. The rest are just behind us.

[CALCULATING TIME TO IMPACT...]

[10 SECONDS...]

[5...]

[4...]

[3...]

[2...]

[The vacuum devours the sound of impact. Metal silently bends, rips, tears. SLAG KITTY lands claws first on a pirate chassis with the speed of a missile. With the momentum, SINGED is able to halfway bisect the mech vertically as she crunches it against the ground.]

SINGED: HEY, HEY!!! AHAHAHAHAHEHEHEHE!!!

[A hail of gunfire rains in both directions as Albatross forces begin landing in her wake.]

Photon: Three hostiles pointed your direction, SINGED. Covering ya. Pick 'em off.

[Sparks shower the deck as SLAG KITTY and the remains of the destroyed chassis scrape along and bounce back up in the zero g. The enkidu leaps from the wreckage towards an incoming pirate mech armed with some sort of integrated chainsaw. The weapon is torn from the chassis in seconds as plasma claws rip across the machine's arm.]

SINGED: GRaAAHH!!!

[As the mech's arm is shredded, a war pike streaks past SLAG KITTY'S head, striking one of the remaining two in the shoulder and knocking the aim of its rifle off target from SINGED. She takes the opportunity to latch her claws under the head of the chassis and pull upward, tearing it from the body.]

Photon: Seems we scared them off.

[SLAG KITTY digs its claws into the deck to bring its momentum to a screeching halt and keep from floating off. SINGED turns to see the remaining two attackers fleeing towards a set of hanger doors.]

Photon: I say we pursue. If they call for reinforcements, that pulls guns away from our folks working towards the bridge.

SINGED: Aye aye! HeheHEE!!

[SLAG KITTY grips its claw into the deck of the ship and throws itself, floating in pursuit of the targets. The pair of pirates stop at the doors. An emergency light flashes yellow when the first of the two slams its fist onto the chassis-scale console. The door does not open immediately.]

Photon: It's depressurizing. There'll be two sets of doors. Looks like we have time to pick one of- t---- o-- f-- f-- f

[A pair of antennae atop one of the pirate chassis produce a series of blinks, and the sensors of the SLAG KITTY are occasionally interrupted by static.]

[REACTOR HEAT CAPACITY {16%}.]

SINGED: PPFFFT AHAHAHAHAAHHAHAAHAA!!!! U FUCKIN CALL THAT HEAT??? I BURN MY REACTOR HARDER THAN THAT CUZ ITS FUNNY!!!! WATCH THIS!!!

[SINGED gives a triumphant roar: the only thing audible over coms as there's a single, brief flash from the muzzle of SLAG KITTY. In an instant, the entire middle of the tech mech simply ceases to be, cockpit and all. The legs of the doomed machine begin to drift in either direction, just in time for the door to begin slowly opening behind them.]

[WARNING: REACTOR HEAT CAPACITY {97.8%}. STABILIZATION RECOMMENDED.]

Photon: Nice shot, kid.

SINGED: HEHEHAHA!! BYE BYE!!!

[The remaining pirate flees through the barely open doors, which close behind them. As they do so, SLAG KITTY pursues.]

[ENGAGING RAPID HEAT VENTING...]

[SLAG KITTY reaches the doors as it cools, immediately throwing itself against them and clawing like a caged animal.]

SINGED: Let me IN!! LET ME IIINNNN!!!!

[A Nelson, presumably Callsign Photon's mech, flies into frame on its mount.]

Photon: Kid. You just need to hit the button.

SINGED: Oh.

[Photon does so, and the yellow light begins flashing again. Eventually, they begin to open once more.]

SINGED: Hrrgh... Hmm... HRRGH GRRRR.

Photon: What are you doing?

SINGED: It's too SLOW!! My PREY'S gonna get away!!

Photon: Patience. We want them to get help, remember?

[SINGED growls again but says nothing, the enkidu staring at the doors like a cat staring through a window at a bird. After about twenty seconds, the door opens wide enough for the duo to get through, and SLAG KITTY immediately slams the next button. As the first set of doors seals behind them, SINGED begins clawing at the next set.]

SINGED: OPEN OPEN OPEN OPEN OPEN

Photon: SINGED. The chamber has to depressurize before that'll happen.

SINGED: I CANN MAKE IT GO FASTER!!!

[Before Photon can protest, SLAG KITTY has backed up, and another flash escapes the displacer in its maw. A large circular portion of the doorway is erased. Both mechs stagger backwards as the vacuum rips air from the next corridor into the chamber. With the doors behind the pair sealed, this lasts only a moment.]

SINGED: NO MORE FLOAT!!!

[She quickly scurries through the hole.]

Photon: Well, if it works it w-

...<ERROR. FILE DAMAGED. SCRUBBING VIDEO FILE FOR INTACT FOOTAGE>

[A number of short, disjointed clips follow, ranging on average from 1 to fifteen seconds. They show Photon and SINGED working through the ship, chasing the fleeing pirate, and SINGED subsequently tearing through mechs like a rabid beast. It seems that at some point in the chaos they engaged their second round of stims. Photon's plan was to draw fire from the main team, and the two certainly seem to have succeeded by that measure.]

[Finally, the footage begins to come in longer intact clips again. SLAG KITTY appears to have have just reached the end of a catwalk, before...]

Photon: LOOK OUT!!!

[Photon's mech slams into SLAG KITTY, bringing it out of the line of fire of a shotgun at the last second. There's hardly time to make out the shape of the mech rounding the corner before more gunfire sprays the catwalk from elsewhere.]

Photon: Intercepting long ranged hostile.

[Photon leaps over the side and into flight. More gunfire follows. SINGED's focus returns to the shotgunner. Examining the frame, it appears to be a modified blackbeard.]

SINGED: HeheEE. Get in CLOSE so I ca- AAUGH!!

[The blackbeard obliges, too quickly for the SLAG KITTY to tear into it with Primal Fury. The pirate slams the shotgun into her like a club, sending her flying a great distance backward. She claws into the ground to gain traction and retain her footing.]

SINGED: GRRRRrRR!!!

Blackbeard: Heheh.

[The pirate, looking over the SLAG KITTY, drops his shotgun, pulling from his back a long, two-handed axe.]

SINGED: OHhhh I like u. IM GONNA EA- GAHH!!!

[The pirate's grapple catches SLAG KITTY and reels him in close. AS SINGED takes a step back, caught of guard by the speed, the axe is brought down into the enkidu's shoulder.]

SINGED: AUGH!! GRRRRRAAA!!

[The pirate twists his axe, using the leverage to throw SLAG KITTY to the side and off of the catwalk. SINGED does her best to tuck and roll, but from the crunching sound of the impact, it's clear she isn't able to avoid damage entirely.]

[The blackbeard leaps from the catwalk after her, engaging a jump jet and descending upon her. Seeing an opportunity, her burning claws engage, and like a cat with a bird she latches them into the flying opponent.]

SINGED: GRRR GET DOWN!!!

[The plasma talons rip through the chassis, but aren't enough to stop it from landing atop SLAG KITTY and pinning it to the ground.]

Blackbeard: Time to put ya down, ya feral fuckin dog.

[He swings the axe overhead towards the ground, and SLAG KITTY has just enough time to move its head aside before it can chop through. Instead, it embeds itself in the ground. As the pirate pulls, it's not released immediately.]

[RELEASING COMBAT STIMS DOSE {3}.]

SINGED: I. AM A CAT!!! MRRAAAAAAAAHH!!!!

[SLAG KITTY's maw wraps around the pole of the axe and bites with all its might. Heat builds in the frame's mouth, and metal softens as teeth rend. The axe-head is snapped violently from the pole.]

[WARNING: REACTOR HEAT CAPACITY {86.4%}. STABILIZATION RECOMMENDED.]

SINGED: I DOTN CAREE!!! RAAAAAGH!!!

Blackbeard: Oh fu-

[The jaws' next target is the leg of the frame, and the teeth sink in just as deep, producing even more slag. In short order, the blackbeard is wrestled to the ground, leg mangled to the point of near removal.]

[WARNING: REACTOR HEAT CAPACITY {EXCEEDED}. POWER PLANT DESTABILIZED.]

SINGED: I SAID I DONT CARRRE AAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!!

[SLAG KITTY's claws rip into the chassis, leaving a wide, molten gash with each strike.]

...<ERROR. FILE DAMAGED. SCRUBBING VIDEO FILE FOR INTACT FOOTAGE>

Blackbeard: FUCK NO NO NO!!!

...<ERROR. FILE DAMAGED. SCRUBBING VIDEO FILE FOR INTACT FOOTAGE>

[The cockpit of the Blackbeard is torn open just enough for SLAG KITTY's head to fit through. SINGED gives a horrific roar, and the pirate inside goes ghostly white.]

...<ERROR. FILE DAMAGED. SCRUBBING VIDEO FILE FOR INTACT FOOTAGE>

SINGED: AHAHAHAHHHAAA

[SLAG KITTY looks over the unmoving wreckage of the blackbeard, then to Photon's side of the battlefield, which has gone quiet. Photon holds his lance trained on the remaining enemy frame, which was disarmed, raising its hands in surrender.]

Photon: Just got word, kid. We've taken the bridge. It's over.

SINGED: Wha? BUt. KILL. KILLLLL!!!!!

[RELEASING POST-COMBAT SEDATIVES]

SINGED: Wha... Wh... hrrn. eepy...

Photon: You did good, you little maniac. Get some rest. You've earned it.

...<RECORDING ENDS>

#ooc WOWIE im glad i could finally get this out! was more relevant nearly a month ago but thats how it is sometimes #also id like to point out that i used a license from the Corsair Gruntworks LCP for the blackbeard #the axe he used was a breidax from the Stamford license and i was also inspied by one of the Stamfords systems #so thanks to Pines! :D #lancer rp #oc rp #oc rp blog #lancer enkidu #sally screaming #OMA updating #tw drugs

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sirfrogsworth · 1 year ago

Text

Mounjaro's Revenge: The Inevitable Adventures of Froggie, Chapter Unknown

I keep saying I can't leave the house without having some kind of adventure. And I really thought I was going to have a quick, uneventful doctor's visit with my monthly checkup this past Wednesday. I'd go in, they'd check the box Medicare requires every month, and I'd come straight home.

But adventure seeks me out. I can't seem to escape its grasp. And, yes, sometimes I like having adventures. They give me something to write about. And sometimes they are fun memories. But sometimes adventures just make me tired. And not all adventures are positive.

For the past 3 weeks I have been on the second dosage amount of Mounjaro. Unlike the Ozempic, I have had a few issues with side effects. Roughly 48 hours after my injection, I get sick to my stomach and feel pukey. It lasts for about two hours. I either vomit and lose the urge or I hold it in and it fades. I am then compelled to take a nap.

Considering the weight loss and glucose control, getting sick for an hour or two per week isn't a huge deal. There is a good chance I will get used to the medication as time goes on, but even if I don't, I am okay with this consequence.

My injection day was Tuesday, and based on past experience, I figured I'd have until Thursday morning before I got sick. The past 2 episodes happened at almost identical times, so I figured Wednesday wouldn't be a problem.

But right before my doctor's appointment I started feeling extremely... rough.

Optimistic for no good reason, I was hopeful I could get through the appointment before the urge to vomit arrived.

I get to the office and there are 3 patients ahead of me. This was not a good sign. My doctor tends to overbook and I was probably going to have a bit of a wait. I arrived in the middle of a lively conversation about where to get a good steak in St. Louis. I'm used to waiting rooms being full of quiet and bored people staring at their phones so when I opened the door it felt like the conversation smacked me in the face.

The cast of characters were as follows...

There was an older black man who had the spirit of a kindly grandpa. He seemed nice and wise and was enjoying the steak conversation. Let's call him, Old Guy.

There was an older white fellow who was anxious about the wait time due to having another appointment soon. He was on hold with the other doctor's office trying to delay his appointment time. He was only mildly interested in steak due to that distraction. I already used Old Guy, so... Anxious Guy.

And then there was the steak expert who was leading the conversation. Actually, leading is not strong enough. He was *dominating* the conversation. As I sat down and his visage entered my field of view, I was a bit taken aback.

Do you know how in Star Trek everyone has a mirror universe doppelganger who may look the same, but they usually have personality traits that are reversed?

They are often identified by arch overacting or a change in facial hair.

The steak expert was my mirror universe counterpart. He was of similar age, height, and weight. Same color hair and eyes. He even wore similar clothing.

But he had a goatee instead of a beard. *gasp*

And he wore... sandals. *double gasp*

He had clearly been in a recent transporter mishap.

I mean, I could *never* wear sandals. The world is not ready to handle my nude foot and I find very few sandals have the load-bearing capacity necessary for people my size. You are asking for foot pain if you are over 300 pounds and wearing sandals.

Mirror Froggie was very outgoing and personable, but he had trouble filtering what he said and was often obliviously rude. He clearly thought himself to be hilarious but struggled to make even kindly Old Guy chuckle.

Old Guy said, "I think Longhorn makes a decent steak for the money."

And then Mirror Me's unfiltered response... "Longhorn is shit. You shouldn't eat there. You are wasting your money on shit steak."

"I don't know, I've always enjoyed..."

"I'm telling you, friend, it is shit steak. End of story."

You could tell that made Old Guy feel bad for suggesting what he liked. But he brushed it off and asked for a better suggestion. Mirror Froggie confidently told him of a restaurant called "Sam's" that had "the best steak in town."

Old Guy proceeded to ask Siri to look up Sam's and it took a few tries. He reminded me of my dad fighting with the iPhone and repeating things over and over with increasing volume. I think Old Guy wasn't specific enough as he got the wholesale club on the first few attempts. Finally he said, "SAMMM'S STEAKHOUSSSSE" and found success. Old Guy saw the reviews and some of them were... not great.

But Mirror Froggie was like, "You can't read reviews. They're all liars." And I was questioning why people would take the time to lie about a small St. Louis steakhouse, but whatever. He then said it was because the restaurant was in disrepair and needed new plumbing, but that's why they could sell such amazing steak at reasonable prices.

Theories are less logical in the Mirror Universe. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Anxious Guy got off his phone call and cursed into the void. He missed his other appointment. He interjected with, "Is that Sam's place expensive?" And that sent Mirror Froggie into a long diatribe about the price of meat at different places and his annoyance at steak-related inflation. Soon after, Anxious Guy finally got in to see the doctor. Old Guy was keeping Mirror Froggie busy with conversation, so I just closed my eyes and rested as they discussed the price of oversized shrimp "as big as your fist". I guess they ran out of things to say about steak.

As they were talking I started to get a spidey-sense about Mirror Froggie.

He *needed* conversation.

He *needed* distraction.

His boredom abhors a vacuum.

Whenever there was a lull or silent moment, I could see him getting very antsy. And if Old Guy got called in before Mirror Froggie... I was going to have a problem.

I was feeling sicker by the moment and did not have the bandwidth to help some stranger with his inability to accept boredom.

And... Old Guy was next.

Because, of course he was.

I feel like sitting there with my eyes closed and also not having said a word the entire time was a pretty decent social cue that I was not interested in talking. But Mirror Me decided to poke that notion with a stick in order to find a way in.

He speaks barely above a whisper, "I wish I could sleep in a public waiting room. Not sure how you do that."

"Yeah, I'm not feeling well. Nothing contagious, just very tired."

"Well, if you're sick, I guess you're in the right place, am I right? *long pause* Cuz we're next to a hospital. *short pause* Right?"

Oh great, he's a joke explainer.

Mirror Froggie did not care about my desire to sit in peace while I waited. His foot was anxiously a-tappin' and he was vibrating with energy that needed someplace to go. He tried standing up and walking in circles. And I guess because my eyes were shut he decided to narrate his walking and stretching to keep me informed. That satisfied him for roughly 20 seconds. He sat back down and was clearly struggling to be alone with his own thoughts.

"Hey, friend."

I open my eyes slowly.

"Do you see that magazine next to you? Would you mind handing that to me?"

I thought, "This is good. He's seeking out an alternate source of stimulation. He can read the magazine and I can rest until my turn."

Seriously, brain... where is this optimism coming from? I've been a cynical misanthrope for like 4 years now.

He flips through a few pages. "Look at this. It's got Oprah on the cover. It's got to be good, right? They don't put Oprah on the cover unless it is good, ya know? Though she doesn't look right after losing all that weight. You know what I mean, friend?"

Well, shit.

I didn't give him a distraction, I gave him a conversation starter. Still, I kept my eyes closed in the hopes he would give up.

"Hey, friend."

Crap.

"You want to hear a joke?"

I open my eyes. I'm not getting out of this.

"Sure." as unenthusiastically as I can manage.

He proceeds to tell three jokes all strung together. All of them terrible and none of them coherent enough for me to remember. I gave him complimentary singular chuckles even though two of the punchlines didn't make sense. I think one was about accidentally eating cat food.

"Hey, friend... how'd you like my jokes?"

I jokingly replied back, "Well, you said *a* joke and that was *three* jokes. That wasn't what I agreed to."

He chuckles and I close my eyes again.

"Hey, friend."

Jesus Christ, would someone jingle their keys for this dude?

"Do you want to hear a 'locker room' joke?"

Oh fuck me.

"I... guess?"

There was no way out of this aside from unpleasant confrontation and my energy calculation of that was much higher than just suffering through a dirty joke.

Here it is, as best as I can remember...

"So there is a pirate ship. And the captain has a beautiful daughter who has come aboard. He tells her that the crew hasn't seen a woman in a long time and they aren't safe to be around, so she should keep a razor blade 'down there.' After the voyage he assembles all of his men and instructs them to pull down their pants. Every one of them has had their dick cut off... except for one. The captain goes up to the only one with their dick intact and says, 'Thank you for not deflowering my only daughter. You should be commended for your restraint. And as a reward, I will make you my first mate.'"

I literally cannot type the punchline because it was an unintelligible noise. Basically, Mirror Froggie imitated someone without a tongue trying to speak.

Yeah. That happened.

I could not hide my disdain for this joke and I was feeling too awful to muster up any kind of response. He seemed confused by the absence of laughter from his wonderful rapey body mutilation joke.

"You get it, friend? He lost his tongue because he ate her pussy."

Yes, explaining the joke always helps... friend.

In whatever the opposite of the nick of time is, moments after this stranger said "ate her pussy"... the nurse calls Mirror Froggie in for his appointment.

I would feel relieved, but the Mounjaro side effects were getting worse and the urge to lose the remaining nutritional value from last night's dinner was increasing by the moment. I was next in line, so I was hoping Mirror Froggie didn't take up too much of the doctor's time with horrible "locker room" jokes and dubious steakhouse suggestions.

Roughly 5 minutes later the nurse calls me in to get my vitals. She weighs me and I am down another 3 pounds. That reminded me of why I was suffering this tummy tantrum. My blood pressure was perfect but my pulse was quite high. I was very anxious holding in my stomach contents and I tried to explain, but she asked me to try and relax to lower my heart rate. We compromised when I got it down to 107.

The nurse keeps forgetting that I don't really have a family anymore. And I know she has a lot of patients in and out and they probably all blend together. But she always ends up asking me questions that require me to remind her my parents are dead.

"Did your mom put up the Christmas tree yet?"

I went with, "No tree this year. Too much work."

"Aw, that's too bad. I actually got mine up early this year. You gotta put up a tree for Christmas."

Thankfully her job was done at this point and she abruptly ended the conversation.

Next up, the pee guy.

He has never actually told me what his name is so that is just what I call him in my head.

Every month I have to sacrifice my urine to the gods of Medicare so they know I am taking my meds and not selling them on the mean streets of Spanish Lake. And the pee guy always comes in to collect my sample. The little cup is kept in a white paper bag for discretion. He used to just give you a clear ziplock, and that was a little embarrassing, as everyone in the waiting room could see your pee. I definitely prefer the new white paper bag system.

It could be my lunch or some cookies or a bunch of peanuts.

Who is to know?

The pee guy is a bit of a talker as well. But the nice thing about his conversational style is that you can't get in a word edgewise. If he asks you a question, he'll even answer it for you. This requires very little effort on my part.

"Hey there, Mr. Benjermin!"

(I have noticed Ben-jer-min is a common pronunciation among Black folks in the area. Not sure if that is just a St. Louis thing or not. Perhaps I have a dialectologist follower who knows.)

I wave hello.

"How's it going, Mr. Benjermin!? Good? Good. Just gotta get your sample. Still taking the same meds? (I nod yes.) Okay, just need you to sign here. New Year's is coming up. Gotta be careful not to party too hard. You'll be regretting that. Though you don't look like a drinker to me. (I nod no.) Yeah, you're a good one. You keep it clean. Okay then, Mr. Benjermin. You're all set. Here is your new sample cup for next time."

He replaces my white paper bag with a new white paper bag and leaves the room without me saying a word. And I'm just realizing he asks me if I am a drinker quite a lot. He must sense my teetotaler spirit or something because he always assumes (correctly) that I don't drink. He's just really concerned about me partying too hard.

Finally the doctor comes in.

My doctor is kind, compassionate, and competent. The almost 3 Cs. But he's got a touch of what I call "Boomer-itis." He's on the progressive side of most things but there are a few ingrained sensibilities from that generation he didn't escape. It's mostly harmless. Though he said something sexist in front of a nurse practitioner student during my last visit that made her roll her eyes behind him.

He greets me and I tell him I'm not feeling well from the Mounjaro and that I am still recovering from my trip to Florida. He tells me that a lot of people can get sick for days from these new drugs, so getting sick for an hour or two isn't so bad. I agree, though I really wish I had not gotten sick at the exact time of this appointment. I keep eyeballing the trash can in the corner just in case things go sideways in my tummy.

He asks about my trip to Florida and I predicted that—as I already had photos ready to go on my phone. I scroll through them, showing off amazing cityscapes and mountainous clouds and an orange sunset over a lake—hoping to impress him with my photography skills to no avail. And then he sees Katrina. Now, I am not blind to her attractiveness, but I do sometimes forget how people respond when they see her next to me.

"Oh, wow. She's beautiful!" he exclaims.

I almost felt flattered on her behalf. But then his Boomer-itis starts to kick in. And he repeats, "Yeah, she's *really* beautiful. Just a friend, you said?" His facial expression and tone of voice are like, "You poor thing, you have been friendzone'd." And probably a touch of, "She's out of your league, buddy." I don't know exactly how to describe it, but it is this familiar look of pity and worry. This is usually followed up with a probing question trying to figure out what our "deal" is. Why is it so odd to that generation that a man and woman can earnestly be just friends and perfectly content with that arrangement?

It would be the easiest thing in the world to just say, "She's gay" and that she isn't "out of my league" as she plays an entirely different sport. (Competitive Subaru Ownership?) But my friendship with Katrina is not some consolation prize due to her queerness. I shouldn't have to explain or justify why I'm "just friends" or why I'm not "being led on."

In a worried tone, "So, umm, how'd you two meet?"

There it is.

"She is an artist. I posted some of her work on my website and it was very popular and helped people find her work. She messaged me to say thank you and we were instant friends. 10 years later she's my best friend and very much like family."

Thankfully his pity face evaporated and he finally saw how long-lasting and meaningful this friendship was. But it is a weirdly common obstacle I have noticed whenever people see a fat guy has a conventionally attractive friend.

Friends are great. Friends have been more supportive and beneficial to me than any romantic entanglement I've ever had.

All of my friends are hot and queer and that's awesome.

Note to self: Put that on a t-shirt.

Knowing how difficult it was, he congratulated me on surviving the trip and we wrapped up our appointment quickly. All I have left to do is check in with his assistant, get my prescriptions sent in, and make my next appointment. I can see the finish line, but my tummy is rumbling and I am making contingency plans for the Great Upchuck of 2023™. I'm clocking trashcans with plastic liners. I'm trying to remember where the nearest restroom is. And then I look down at the little white paper bag containing my urine sample cup and think, "Last resort."

Trinica (the competence ninja and my favorite person in the office) is processing my meds and searching the calendar for next month's visit. Shelly is keeping quiet and working on her computer. I start pacing back and forth. I'm not sure what I think that will do, but I think desperation is taking over at this point.

Shelly sees me and asks, "How's that whole disability situation going for you?" She is acting like my best friend now after cursing at me on the phone. I have a feeling she had an unpleasant conversation with my doctor after that episode because she isn't this sweet and nice to anyone.

I give her the update, "Everything is submitted. My lawyer is happy with all of the records we were able to find. It's just a waiting game now. It could be a couple of months but if I have to see a judge it could be over a year."

She commiserates with me about how slow the process can be.

Then, out of fucking nowhere, Mirror Froggie reappears in the little sliding reception window like a jumpscare in a horror movie.

Are you fucking kidding me with this guy?

"Hey Trinica, do you have a business card for the doctor? I want to recommend him to Doug."

Who the fuck is Doug? Are we supposed to know Doug? Is Doug the tongueless pussy-eating pirate who needs medical attention?

Trinica looks in her desk and is unable to find a spare card. So she stops processing my stuff and starts hunting around the office. She has a bad leg so she is slowly limping while searching every desk. I have never wanted to strangle anyone before, but my doppeldouche was really pushing his luck.

At this point I am just staring at the little trash can in the blood-draw room. I can feel the scrambled eggs reversing course through my digestive system.

Trinica finds a fucking card for fucking Doug and fucking Mirror Froggie finally fucks off to bother people that are not me.

Trinica gets me all sorted, I wish everyone a Merry Christmas, and make to the car.

I sit in the driver's seat, and with that unearned optimism, say to myself, "I made it."

For all of you who are squeamish about bodily fluids, you can just pretend this is where the story ends. Everything was fine. I made it home and was happy and comfortable and nothing gross happened. The nausea faded away and I lived happily ever after.

The End.

Thank you for reading this and have a lovely day.

Just scroll on by to the next post!

Okay, so you all probably thought I was foreshadowing a monumental barf.

But foreshadowing is typically subtle. You don't want to give away the ending. Of course this was going to end in barf. The barfing was inevitable. The barf was not what I was *actually* foreshadowing at all.

Did anyone catch what it was?

You know that discrete white paper bag?

The one that could be for peanuts or maybe a sammich and definitely not my urine sample cup?

The last resort?

Look, it's all I had.

I was not going to make it home. I was not going to make it back into the bathroom. No trash bins on the horizon. Nothing in my car.

At first it was just an itty bitty baby barf. A perfect amount to be contained in a flimsy paper bag. I felt a relief wash over me.

"That's all?" still being stupidly optimistic.

But then I made that noise.

That... pre-retch noise.

That one where your head kinda juts forward and your lips make a giant O shape and you make a very specific grunting sound. That sound where if another person hears it, they involuntarily make the same specific grunting sound.

This was when I had one of those movie moments when a character knows they are about to die and they can't do anything about it. And I made this exact face as I waited for the impending doom of a vomitous explosion.

The Great Upchuck of 2023™ commenced.

And it was... intense.

Everything inside my stomach transferred rapidly, furiously, projectile-ly into the bag of foreshadowing.

I mean, I'm pretty much convinced my stomach is a TARDIS because I do not remember ingesting that much food. This sheer volume of barf had to be coming from another dimensional plane.

I could see it staining the sides of the bag as it was clearly not meant for this. When I finished it was barely intact—soggy, if you will. When I was absolutely sure I had ralph'd to completion, my only option was to gently place it on the passenger's side floor (sans floor mats). All I needed was for it to last 5 more minutes on the trip home and then I could dispose of it and pretend this never happened.

Physically I felt such a relief. Sometimes there is this post-puke euphoria where you just feel, well... lighter. Unburdened with no longer having that feeling. Happy it is over with.

I place the key in the ignition and head for home. As I'm driving I can't help but stare at the bag. I can see it mocking me as it changes colors. The exterior was getting... damp. If this were someone else's vomit, I would have been vomiting because of it. Just... so gross.

I get home and park the car. I walk around to the passenger side to begin the extraction process. I pull the trash can close and I have to psych myself up to deal with this horrible hurling happenstance.

And this next part, well... it would be hilarious if it weren't so damned disgusting.

I stare at the bag.

The bag stares back at me.

I take a deep breath and approach the bag.

The bag grins at me.

I gingerly grasp the very tippy-top in an effort to not touch any of the offending material.

I slowly lift up the bag.

And the very instant it reaches just enough height to do the most damage...

The bottom falls out.

If the bag had broken just as I was picking it up, the carnage would have been minimal. Only a small area to clean up. But clearly this bag read the Wikipedia page on air burst nuclear weapons. It knew you get a much more devastating blast radius if you detonate from an elevated position.

A TARDIS worth of partially digested scrambled eggs just pour and splatter and spray onto the floor of my car. It looked like the bag was puking out my puke.

The bag is now dead but I can feel its ghost laughing at me.

I stand there frozen holding the top of this evil deceased white paper bag trying and failing to process what just happened.

I realize I have no idea what to do with this situation. This is something that would usually be followed with, "MOoooOOOoooommmmm! How do I clean up vomit?"

And she would say, "You'll never do it right. I'll clean it up."

And I'd pretend to be like, "Oh no, it's my mess. I could never let you do that for me."

And she'd insist and break out her endless supply of very specific cleaning potions and magics and soon it would be as if the vomit didn't even exist.

So, I guess my question is... do I have to get my car detailed now?

The Actual End.

#long post #the inevitable adventures of froggie #trigger warning #vomit mention #rape mention

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