#and about a hundred other wolf 359 ones

[imawriternotamagican]

Sounds I Can Play On-Demand In My Head:

WaaaWA waaaa (Magnus Archives intro)

Bumbumbu-bumbumbumbbumwa-WA (King Falls AM commercial break)

We're the bully busters we eat straight rocks

"Ohfficer Eye-ful!"

"Hello Jon apologies for the deception but-"

[ashes-in-a-jar]

In my head, you’re a Magnus Archives blog. I mean, I know you obviously listen to other things, but In my mind it’s things like Welcome to Nightvale, Malevolent, Hello from the Hallowoods, The Sheridan Tapes, things like that, horror and supernatural.

So I had to do a double-take when I saw a Dungeons and Daddies post from you, I really didn’t know you listened to it. Then I see you reblog a Fawx and Stallion post, and now I’m just wondering how many podcasts you’ve listened to that I’ve also listened to.

Hahaha yes this blog has been mainly for tma stuff for years now, I still feel like I'm new to the fandom but honestly I've been here through a lot of it since the beginning of season 5

Buuuuut in the past few months I've stopped going into the tma tag regularly and been feeling a little detached from it, at least as opposed to before. My listen to tmagp has been way less interactive and I hardly reblog content anymore (which is something I like doing but because of various bad experiences on the internet recently I have yet to recover from I feel safer posting my own original posts rather than reblogging)

And that freed up a space in my mind to realize I've actually been listening to a lot of podcasts besides tma and it's honestly a shame not to talk about them more with others

I do listen to a lot of horror fantasy supernatural and science fiction podcasts! I also love a lot of dnd and ttrpg podcasts, I also love everything dropout and wish I could get into critical role but it's so big I don't think I'll manage it

I put under the cut a (quite long) list of the podcasts I have listened to and/or have notifications turned on

Anyone following me, you're welcome to send me an ask about one of them if you like them as well or want to hear about them!

I also put a list of podcasts on my to listen to list. Feel free to drop a recommendation for which them to listen to first!

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

Podcasts I'm caught up on (the lists are long so it's alphabetical without "the")

Ongoing podcasts

The Amelia project

Ask your father

A voice from darkness

Black box

Brimstone valley mall

Camlann

The cellar letters

Death by dying

Derelict

Eeler's choice

Ethics town

Fawx and stallion

Hello from the Hallowoods

The hundred handed

Levian

Lost terminal

The Magnus protocol

Malevolent

Midnight burger

The mistholme museum of mystery morbidity and mortality

Neon inkwell

New years day

Not quite dead

Old gods of Appalachia

The penumbra podcast

The program

Red valley

The Sheridan Tapes

The silt verses

The sound museum

Super suits

Tell no tales

Tiny terrors

Traveling light

Unseen

The vesta clinic

Victoriocity

The white vault

Completed podcasts

Absolutely no adventures

Archive 81

Borrasca

The bright sessions

Camp here and there

Descendants

Give me away

I am in eskew

Monstrous agonies

Parkdale haunt

The Magnus archives

Re: dracula

The secret of st kilda

Spirit box radio

Steal the stars

Time:bombs

We know none

Wolf 359

Wooden overcoats

Ttrpgs

The adventure zone

Campaign skyjacks

Chapter and multiverse

Dark dice

Dice shame

Dimension 20 (not a podcast but I listen to it like one)

Dungeons and daddies

Not another d&d podcast

Rusty Quill gaming

Worlds beyond number

Podcast on my listen next list:

The Alexandria archives

Alice isn't dead

Ars paradoxica

Believer

The Black tapes

Blackwood

The box

The bridge

Carrier

Counterbalance

The cryptid keeper

Darkest night

The darkroom

The dark tome

The deca tapes

The deep vault

Dreamboy (this one is nsfw so it makes me nervous lol)

Duggan Hill

The earth collective

Either

The far meridian

The fountain road files

The glass canon

Jar of rebuke

Kings fall am (I started but heard not great things about it)

Knifepoint horror

Kollok 1991

Less is morgue

The leviathan chronicles

Liberty

Limetown

The lost cat

Mabel

Maeltopia

Marscorp

Mirrors

Mockery manor

Next stop

The no sleep podcast

The orphans

The Orpheus protocol

Out of place

Paired

Palimpsest

The phone booth

Point mystic

Pseudopod

Rabbits

The right left game

Shadows at the door

Spines

Stellar firma

The storage papers

Stories from among the stars

Super ordinary

Superstition

Tanis

Tides

Unwell

Vast horizon

Victoria's lift

Video palace

Welcome to night Vale (I listen to this one very sporadically lol)

We're alive

Within the wires

Woe begone (I started but got stuck on episode 20ish but want to continue)

Wrong station

Ttrpgs

BomBARDded

Critical role (it's sooo long tho)

Dames and dragons

Dragon friends

Join the party

The lucky die

Queens of adventure

Realms of pearl and glory

Rude tales of magic

Skyjacks courier call

Three black halflings

[staysaneathome]

Okay so because this won’t leave my brain, have a weird, tentative, not-quite canonical in any sense timeline:

Bad end of Wolf 359. Pryce and Cutter get the Dear Listeners’ cloning technology and secure the way for humanity’s domination amongst the stars

In response, Goddard Futuristics pulls funding for Dr. John Geistman’s cryotechnology development. After all, who needs to worry about the future of humanity if you’ve guaranteed your corporate survival? Sure, you’ll bring a few of them along as “citizen-employees”, but there’s new markets to conquer among the stars! Forget the sad kiwi, it’s time to diversify services!

And then Dr. John Geistman goes and develops inexplicable necromantic abilities. Hm.

Pryce and Cutter try to have him arrested, secreted away to the states, but the man makes a flesh fortress out of cows, of all things! And then is recruited by the U.S. government to have the sitting president reanimated after the president’s “accident”!

But Pryce and Cutter have excellent PR people, and you can’t survive the cold recesses of space if you can’t adapt! It turns out their corporate “rivals” have the same idea: the weird necromancer can say what he wants about “saving the Earth”, but it turns out that no one really wants to listen after being reminded of what he did to those cows! And those policemen. And the cult he’s steadily amassing.

All told, it’s easier than it feels like it should be to escape the rapidly failing Earth with all of Goddard Futuristic’s vital employees, plus a few lucky relevant non-employee participants (Dr. Geistman has some cousins that Pryce is most interested in seeing if she can awaken any latent wizardry in, see if their children can inherit anything—Warren Kepler is her reluctant lab rat in this). Really, blasting off to space with all the other multitrillionaires is almost boringly simple!

Dr. John Geistman somehow killing the entire planet, ascending to godhood, and destroying every other planet in his way to stop them escaping in an act of spiteful vengeance is the only interesting part of the whole ordeal! And sure one of the twelve ships gets slightly damaged and can’t make it the whole journey.

But Pryce and Cutter have decades of experience in cheating death. This academic can’t even make them break a sweat.

(The unfortunate denizens of this twelfth vessel attempt to soldier on and create civilization anew on the planets they do reach. When the Empire of the Necrolord Prime, the renamed John Gaius, retaliates by killing these planets, they get a bit testy. The descendants of the survivors form the rebellion group the Blood of Eden.)

The eleven ships set up shop several hundred galaxies away. This becomes the Corporation Rim, which warns its inhabitants to not expand too far for fear of “alien” (really necromantic human) remnants.

Goddard Futuristics, with the help of the Dear Listeners’ cloning technology and Pryce’s advances in AI, rebrand as Stellar Firma Ltd. and begin making and selling planets. Pryce and Cutter remain the shadow-rulers behind the all-powerful Board.

Their business rivals on the other six ships set up their own corporations, beginning to set up colonies for mining and contractually -obligated labor. Some of those colonies get lost in the violent in-fighting between these lesser controlled companies which constantly devolve and are reborn anew. Those abandoned colonies form their own governments and societies opposed to those of the Corporation Rim. These are much more successful, and even propagate higher learning and better infrastructure.

In order to keep up with the competition over this new source of income and potential exploitation, the Corporation Rim kickstarts the development of Security Units within their companies, with inbuilt monitoring to data mine their new clients.

Pryce and Cutter meet an untimely end when they take a party barge to the Pleasure Moon of Quixotic, along with the rest of the Board and their families. Stellar Firma, deprived of the overlords that have guided its course since the twenty first century, is thrown into chaos.

I.M.O.G.E.N., Pryce’s magnum opus, becomes the supercomputer behind Stellar Firma’s operation in constant conflict with Internal Standards. She is in charge of using the Dear Listeners’ technology to combine DNA that’s proven to be receptive to the obedience protocol (Donors include R. Min., D. Jac., D. Eif., and A. Max.) to create clone assistants to design and sales consultants. One of these clones proves to be resistant to this gene. She decides to roll with it.

Years later, a Secunit that managed to hack its governor protocol follows a young human that an Asshole Research Transport AI feels very protective over into a coffee shop run by a clone and one of the most powerful administrative AIs to escape the Corporation Rim…

[bracketsoffear]

Major Tom (David Bowie) "An astronaut who was sent into deep space and vanishes -- possibly intentionally, depending on your reading of the lyrics. The line "And the papers want to know whose shirts you wear" emphasizes the mundane, capitalist nature of the world he left behind. This is further supported by the later portions of the song devoted to Major Tom's awe at the beauty and infinity of space, contrasted against the small, claustrophobic description of his spaceship as a 'tin can', which reduces humanity's great achievement of space travel to nothing more than cosmic debris. The line 'And I'm floating in a most peculiar way' may also refer to an inability to connect emotionally to others, feeding into the Vast's themes of disconnect and insignificance. The line "Though I'm past one hundred thousand miles, I'm feeling very still," refers both to the lack of any body relative to which he can judge his motion and his own sense of peace about the phenomenon. This is followed by the line, "And I think my spaceship knows which way to go," which can be interpreted as Major Tom's realization that he doesn't need to be there anymore, and can just let go. The mission and the world will go on without him. Whether or not he intentionally sabotaged his equipment to drift off forever into space, the song's ending shows him peacefully floating off into eternity, accepting and possibly even enjoying his fate. This is also supported by Peter Schilling's interpretation of the Major in his song, Major Tom (Coming Home), which emphasizes in the final verse "Now the light commands/This is my home/I'm coming home." Major Tom has chosen the stars over the planet, and he is prepared to fall forever to reach them.

Space Oddity Major Tom (Coming Home)"

Doug Eiffel (Wolf 359) "Lives on a space station light years from earth listening for chatter from deep space. Starts picking up radio signals of classical music that don’t make sense to be actually coming from earth. At one point drifts off into space in a tiny pod for a year and somehow survives."

[chooseruin]

Fictober day 1, belated: "I chose you."

Wolf 359, pre-canon, Jacobi and Maxwell. No plot only banter and awkward intimacy.

When he gets back from the shower, Maxwell's lying flopped across the shitty hotel bed like a kid's doll thrown from the top of a building. Face down. The angles of her arms and legs don't look comfortable, or Euclidean. According to pop culture, basically every woman in the developed world wants to be as long and narrow as Maxwell; except for Maxwell, who apparently wants to be a squished cranefly.

She's already wearing her sleep mask, so he makes a point of clomping on his way over. If she's awake with her eyes covered while someone's there, it usually means she's pretty chilled, but no one really needs to repeat the experience of startling Alana Maxwell up from drowsing. Especially not at close range. Even Kepler, when he can't actually avoid it, goes right to barking her name in that tone that hits the brain stem without passing Go, collecting two hundred dollars, or bothering to achieve consciousness before you're wearing a different shirt on the other side of the room.

Once he can be pretty confident she's oriented to him, he unwraps the towel from his neck and whips the bottoms of her feet with it. She makes a noise like a berserker Pomeranian and completely fails to kick him.

"Heh." The second kick attack doesn't come any nearer to connecting. "Classic."

"Die in a fire, stumpfucker." She contracts in on herself, reflexive, like a poked bug. Jacobi drops down next to her. "Actually, you'd be worryingly into that. Die in a flood. Die in a broken industrial freezer. Die in a Claire's."

"Now, that reminds me. Did I ever tell you about the time I contracted Yersinia pestis from a contaminated piercing gun in Accomac, Virginia?"

Mentos-and-Coke fizz of Maxwell's laughter. "Wow. New Zealand cowboy pirate. Three simultaneous bad accents that don't actually sound anything like him either individually or in aggregate. Four point eight five stars."

"Fuck you and the rhinestone unicorn you rode in on." He pokes her in the ribcage. She barely even squeaks. Must've been braced for it. "So where'd I lose the point fifteen?"

"Town name could have had more syllables. I gave you an extra zero five for scansion."

"Long story short… I wasn't dead yet." He tips an invisible hat and settles back against the headboard. Sleet dashes against the window in monotonous handfuls. One of the cracks in the shitty ceiling looks kind of like the one he skateboarded over and broke two fingers outside the school when he was ten. "Why is everything in this place kind of almost slimy?"

"They're cutting corners on soaps and detergent. It leaves a residue." Maxwell burrows discontentedly into the sheets. "Can you do my back for a minute?"

"I guess, if it'll make up for the residue."

He rests his hand between her shoulderblades. It covers an objectively unnerving percentage of her back. Like touching a hot brick wrapped in washed-to-shreds t-shirt cotton. When he pushes down, she shudders and makes a distressing noise.

"More like up underneath my shoulderblade – other shoulderblade, jackass. My left. Yeah," gasping, when he does the thing like scratching and digging in at once. "Ow, fuck. Positive. Up underneath."

Jacobi's seen the way she sits at her keyboard. He's kind of amazed she still has a back, and that's here and now with strongly recommended gym time and the ten-thousand-dollar chair she dared him to dare her to requisition. That wasn't even what made Kepler bat an eye. God knows what she was like when she was younger.

He changes the angle, up underneath, and her leg on the opposite side genuinely starts twitching. "This is like playing Minesweeper with live charges."

"Like you wouldn't do that. We should do that next year for your birthday."

"Have you thought about seeing a physio? Or, like, an exorcist?" Drags his thumb along the knife-curve of her scapula, probably way too hard, as she's opening her mouth to answer. Something in there releases unceremoniously, and she groans.

"Same thing other side – I thought about it. I chose you."

He corkscrews his thumb down, same thing, other side. Maxwell runs cold, temp-wise, but Jesus you could fry an egg on her back. "Cool. Then you also chose me laughing at you when you turn forty and you're shaped like a question mark."

"It's, like, rilly cute how you think either of us will live to see forty." She twitches, and sighs, and rolls her shoulders till they crack. "Do we have any of those weird chips left?"

[andromerot]

what fiction podcasts would you recommend? ^_^

man. being dragged into the cringezone. its ok... so from ages fifteen to seventeen i listened to a LOT of audiodramas and honestly a lot of them are not very good. but some are! and some are fun :) im making a list

mabel podcast: if you've followed me for over two hours you've probably heard of it is one of my favorite things in the whole world...i cant even begin to describe the plot but i recommend it to all of you because a lot of people on tumblr are like, into haunted houses, or into fairy folklore, or into fucked up codependent lesbians, or all of the above. so it truly has something for everyone. but its beautiful, it really is. will ruin all romance for you though. honestly its not even a podcast to me its more like a girl best friend. i can talk about it forever so if you have more specific questions about it feel very welcome to send them

i am in eskew: another favorite! this one is about very terrible city that loves a man very much and will not let him go #relatable. this one is a proper horror podcast though so i do not recommend it to anyone squeamish - but i really like it.

the silt verses: done by the same people as eskew, horror as well. i haven't finished it yet but its amazing. it's about gods. gods that are Weird.

welcome to night vale: this one is a classic (arguably, The Classic) and i think is a fundamental part of what is now considered cringe 2014 tumblr culture but honestly it is very funny and silly. its been going steady for like ten years, has over 200 episodes, which means it has some very bad seasons and some pretty good ones. i think its best era was like 2014-2016 or so but yeah it's very long and has some gems. it dares ask the question "what if a town was very fucked up?" which was then asked by four hundred other podcasts, all done badly. but wtnv is fun

wolf 359: yet another classic. fucked me up bad. its about a spaceship with some guys inside it. it predicted among us. the best character is hera the artificial intelligence with severe mental problems

the far meridian: this one is very sweet and tiny but i think its underrated. soft and surreal. a girl who lives in a lighthouse that moves every night searches for her missing brother and Encounters Situations

ars paradoxica: one of the few time travel stories i like in this whole world. i remember almost nothing about the plot itself but i remember it broke my heart a lot. a scientist accidentally timetravels to the middle of wwii and shes hired to do some war shit, which sucks for her but she has nothing better to do. that sounds boring but i swear its not. maybe it was i dont remember.

neighbourly: anthology based on a long street of fucked up houses or fucked up people living in houses. it has some pretty good episodes and some banger episodes. im friends in law with the guy who makes it. its cool

alice isnt dead: theres a woman called alice and she is dead. but, spoilers, she isn't dead. her wife starts working as a trucker trying to find her and goes all around the us trying to find her and things happen to her.

within the wires: its an anthology but each season is a story. the first one is really really good, the others are a mixed bag. its an alternate history thing but the genre changes

the penumbra podcast: this one has been added to the list with a huge sigh because like i cant lie it has been extremely influential to my life but also i hate it. it was very important to me. its bad. don't listen to it. unless you're a mentally ill teenager or you like old women a lot maybe try it out then. the old women are not the main characters

anyway yeah like getting into indie podcasting like this really altered the way i saw media from a young age and even if some of these are not as good as i remember them being i do recommend the experience. the only ones i really listen to now are the first three and every once in a while i catch up with the last but im angry about that one. hope at least one of these is to your liking. listen to mabel

[cicaklah]

Star Trek Picard 3x04 thots

time for thots again

k so if you're new to my thots on star trek you probably should know that while I love picard as a character it is because he's an arrogant asshole who gets away with too much and deserves to be taken down a peg. Its one of the many, many reasons Sisko is my favourite captain, is that Sisko hates Picard for killing his wife and ruining his life. I like the idea that Picard is a hugely divisive figure in Starfleet and across the Federation because of what happened at Wolf 359 but more importantly, what happened afterwards. I think if the show had been a bit less chaotic that would have been the prestige tv to end all prestige tv, i.e. addressing the complex legacy of Picard the man.

anyway all this ties into my feelings that Shaw is right and should say it. Shaw's story of how he survived Wolf 359 was wonderfully affecting especially countering Picard's personal brand of mythmaking, i.e. he is still a man who cannot deal with not being the hero. Which is exactly what I WANT from my star trek. Picard believes one thing about himself, that he is a humble starfleet captain man who has never done anything wrong in his entire life, who isn't a showboater or a storyteller, while being the exact opposite: he should know that fish and chips shouldn't be eaten cold, yet he abandons his lunch to show off to a bunch of cadets. Was this once? Or was it a frequent occurence?

The twist in the tail that Picard's arrogance and showboating cost him the relationship with his son felt a bit lost, but that might have been on me losing focus. I liked and sympathised with Jack, who would have been, what, 18? Going to go make a great declaration, tracking down his biological father on the encouragement of his mother, and being accidentally cruelly rebuked as irrelevant. And then five years later trying to make a good thing of it, asking about hair loss etc, and picard just showing that he's way too self-involved to actually be able to relate.

Its a pity there's not going to be any real emotional fallout, or even Picard learning a lesson in his old age, because the show, after four episodes of doing a Not Bullshit Plot, has decided to bring in some Bullshit in the last few minutes. Jack is having visions!!!! Son of Picard is SPECIAL!!! Why do the changelings want him...and why did they know that the Titan was going to pick him up?? Either changelings are all through the federation (as implied in one ds9 episode, where a changeling tells Odo that there are dozens if not hundreds of sleeper agents throughout the federation who are never mentioned again), or what, Beverly is a changeling? I think it might be the sleeper agents leftover from the dominion war, but that is one hell of a story to pick up if so.

Idly, I wonder if they've ever asked Ira Steven Behr if he wants to come back and do a legacy show? Not that I necessarily want ds9 season 8, but I do find it odd that they've got none of the original writers back in for these last hurrahs with old writers (not since Bryan Fuller kicked it all off with the original concept for Disco, anyway). Today's episode was fine, but again it felt like a remix of some older episodes. I was sort of excited that maybe the nebula would be that Super Changeling that was mentioned in the beta novels (drink), which dies and basically fractures the link, but thats always too much to hope for. Still, space babies.

Anyway, another thot I had this week was that they have totally fucked up the casting of Jack, since he looks 33, not 23, and TNG onward casting was always to cast younger not older. Its like someone got confused, though I can't fault them, he looks so much like a baby patstew it really was a gift.

misc other thoughts:

captain shaw probably won't make another appearance but I love him, oh captain my asshole captain

who the fuck drinks white wine with fish and chips

oh seven my seven. excited for her and Raffi to be reunited maybe, not that there's going to be any space for them to be happy.

it was lovely to have a star trek breakfast, however I did sort of ruin it by not getting up til midday.

these are my thots on yaoi kthxbye

[commsroom]

some moments from the scripts that are everything to me

[normally-paranormal]

Tip #68

Finished off the last little bit of that Wolf 359 fic. Set four days after Who's There, Minkowski has a conversation with a ghost.

-----

“I say again: Requesting immediate assistance. Please respond.” 

Minkowski waited. And waited. The static of the radio popped and fizzled on, occasionally shifting frequency or fading out, but no other human voices came over the line. Her mouth tightening into a thin line, she shut off the comm. 

Four days. Only four days. It already felt like it’d been a lifetime since the red dwarf had turned blue and the entirety of her universe had shifted on its axis. In the rush to get the station back into functionality, between tallying up hundreds of system errors and reckoning with her three broken, angry, terrified crew mates, she hadn’t had time to reckon with, well, time. She wasn’t sure if she didn’t have enough of it or if she had way, way too much. Her days were both rapid and endless, her nights were a mix of rushing thoughts and sleepless hours spent listening to the horrible, aching noises the station made as it buckled under its own weight-- and there’d only been four of them since everything had really, really gone to hell. 

She should leave the comms room. Her transmission was completed and Hera could let her know if anything did come through to them, but she hesitated. Only for a moment. Her crew needed her to get up and get moving, they needed her to fix every single thing that’d been broken, but they could give her a minute, couldn't they? She deserved that much, didn’t she? A tiny little moment to herself so that she could finally think about…

Pryce and Carter’s Deep Space Survival Procedure and Protocol Manual, Tip #1,001: In times of trouble, an idle mind is your worst enemy. Keep yourself occupied at all times. Don’t stop. 

The last of Pryce and Carter’s, and the easiest to remember. She shouldn’t have that moment to herself. She should keep moving. Minkowski pushed herself away from the console to start for the door. 

“Oh, lighten up, why don’t you? It’s not like the station’s gonna blow up if you stop and take a breath. It already did that, remember?” 

Minkowski froze. No, no no no… She turned, slowly, and sure enough, there he was. Communications Officer Douglas Eiffel, as foolish as ever, his feet resting on the console as if he wasn’t at risk of knocking a million switches out of place. With one hand resting behind his head, he gave her a raised eyebrow and a small smirk, a sight so familiar that, for a moment, she wanted to believe it was real. Everything else- the star, the alien transmission, the shuttle explosion- had just been a nightmare. A long, terrible nightmare. 

Pryce and Carter’s Tip #911: Sometimes things get worse before they get better.

And didn’t she know that more than anyone. Minkowski watched the man in front of her for just a moment longer, then closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. She knew better than to let herself indulge in something like.. this. Looking anywhere but at him, she spoke a little above her normal volume. “Hera?” 

“Yes, Commander?” Came the immediate response from the intercom. She sounded tired, Minkowski thought. It was almost funny to think an AI could be tired, if it wasn’t so tragic. Once upon a time, Hera had nearly always sounded.. Chipper, upbeat, even when sarcastic. Not anymore. 

“Can you check the oxygen levels in the station for me? Is anything off, in here or elsewhere?” 

“Um….” There was a pause, almost as if Hera were moving away to check something, as if she weren’t directly integrated into the station insofar as becoming the station. “No. I mean, thermal controls are a little.. Off, down in the cargo bay, but all oxygen levels in the station are suitable. Oxygen levels in the comms room specifically are nominal. Is…. everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Minkowski said. “Yeah, it's fine, Hera. I guess I just.. It’s been a long day.” 

“Oh, come on Commander, you’re smarter than that,” said Eiffel. Minkowski jumped, her gaze darting back to the man settled in front of her. He grinned. “Sorry to go all Sixth Sense on you, but plot twist: you’re seeing dead people.” 

“Commander?” 

“Like I said,” Minkowski started through gritted teeth, though she wasn’t sure if she was speaking to Hera or Eiffel or herself, “It’s been a long day.”

“Okay, Commander,” Hera said, at the same time at which Eiffel spoke over her to make his point; “Yeah, yeah. You think you’ve had a long day? How do you think I feel? At least you’ve got people to talk to, and a big fancy star to look at, while I’m over there somewhere in solitary confinement.” He gestured vaguely towards the direction that the shuttle had tumbled off in, and Minkowski remembered again that he would still be tumbling. With every single second that passed, he was moving thousands and thousands of miles away from the Hephaestus, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. He was out there, alone, drifting, and she didn't have to dig deep to know that she would never be able to save him. Suddenly Eiffel raised his hands in a placating gesture, pulling his feet from the console to sit up properly. “Okay, okay. That was a little harsh, I’ll admit. But aren’t you being a little harsh on yourself? I mean, how much sleep have you actually gotten in the last few nights?” 

Minkowski stared at him hard- a look she had given him a hundred times before, for a hundred different stupid reasons, most of them being something that had come out of his mouth. No, no, she wasn’t going to do this. She wasn’t going to talk to a ghost, not when there was so much work to be done. She wasn’t giving in to that, not right now, not ever, really not ever… 

“Hera?” 

“..Yeah, Commander?” 

“I want you to do a reboot of the comms systems.” 

There was a pause. Minkowski crossed her arms and waited, her gaze locked onto the man settled in front of her. He raised his eyebrows, turning his placating gesture into jazz-hands before he leaned back again in his seat. “A.. full reboot, Commander?” 

“Yes, Hera. A full reboot.” 

“Oh… kay, but I’m right in the middle of walking the Lieutenant through something, so can it wait just a tiny--” 

“Now.” 

“Okay, okay. Rebooting right now. Communications systems will be down for about.. Three minutes, give or take. And… d--” 

There was a quiet burst of static as Hera’s voice distorted and faded out. Minkowski felt a small well of guilt settle in her chest for shutting her off like that, but it meant three minutes of going totally unheard. Three minutes that she could speak to the ghost settled in front of her. She clenched her jaw, staring hard for another long moment. Eiffel only smiled in return, for once seeming to wait until she spoke first.

At least, he waited for a few seconds. And then he rolled his eyes and looked back to the console, seeming to search over the buttons and switches for something in particular. “You know, she probably would’ve just ignored you if you started talking to yourself. She does it to me all the time.” 

That wasn’t comforting. In fact, none of this was comforting. She wasn’t sure why she bothered shutting Hera down when she should just--

“You know how much I hate being the voice of reason, Commander. But I actually do think that you should take a break.” Eiffel looked back to her. She felt herself take a steadying breath, blinking at a burning feeling behind her eyes that told her tears were inevitable if she kept staring at him like this. Four days… he would still be alive, probably, unless he’d done something exceptionally stupid. She didn’t put it past him to do something exceptionally stupid. 

“I don’t have time for a break, Eiffel,” she snapped back. “I know you can’t exactly know this, but the station is falling apart and if we don’t do something about it I could-” 

“Oh, I know that perfectly well. It’s been falling apart since day one.” Eiffel smiled at her. “And I’m not me, remember? I’m all in here.” he gestured at his own head. “If you start thinking otherwise, you’ll have actually lost your mind. And then we’re really in for a ride if you go buying tickets to the crazy train.”

“Then you should know that I don’t have an option. What am I supposed to do, let it all keep breaking down? I don’t exactly have much to work with here.” She paused as he broke into a laugh and frowned. It wasn’t funny. None of it was funny. Not even Lovelace’s stupid jokes held anything funny in them anymore. They were stranded out here alone and as good as dead, with an unprecedented solar event happening right out their window and a crew member who’d been flung out of her reach only moments after she’d promised that she wouldn’t leave him out there. She had Hera, grieving and glitching at every turn, who’d been struggling to control the station even before part of it had blown up, and Hilbert, insane as he was, and Lovelace, losing her grip with every passing second, all to take care of and keep alive. And she couldn't. Not for forever, and she knew it. Eiffel kept laughing.

“But it is funny,” he told her, before she could even snap at him. He gave her a lopsided grin and rested an arm over the back of his chair. “Come on. You’ve got, like, the only three people in the galaxy who could survive a thing like this on your side. Hera’s a supercomputer, for crying out loud. And Lovelace, who’s totally lived up to the badass space captain thing, and Hilbert, who..” He grimaced a little, then shrugged. “Despite.. everything, is still kind of a mad supergenius. If anyone’s gonna get through it all, it’s the three people you’ve got behind you. And they’re not gonna go any more cu-cuckoo than they already have if you take a nap for a few hours.” 

He was right. Maybe. But just because her crew happened to be made up of some of the best minds she’d ever known didn’t mean that she had the resources they needed to keep them alive. There were vital repairs to be done to the station, things that she tried to pretend weren’t looming over their heads at any given moment. And then there was the fact that she didn’t have her full crew, either. She was missing one. Minkowski chewed at her lip, then sighed. She sounded tired even to her own ears. “And what about you, Eiffel?” 

He shrugged. That was about as much as an answer as she could get, really. “I don’t know, Commander. But if I were me, I wouldn’t want Commander Minkowski to work herself insane over a situation she couldn't do anything about. ..Pryce and Carter’s number 68,” he added, with a sudden expectant grin. “Go.” 

“There are limits,” she started, rattling off the tip without having to think about it, “To what the human body can take in any period of time. Please be mindful that you do not overwork yourself.” She paused, then frowned. “That’s a cheap trick. The next tip is-” 

“Unless you have orders to do so, I know, I know.” Eiffel raised an eyebrow at her. “But you’re the highest authority right now. And really, if you’re seeing things…” 

“I need a break,” she finished for him. His smile turned a bit more genuine as he spun his chair back towards the console. She let out a low breath. She didn’t want to rest, not right now, but maybe he was right. Maybe she was right? She didn’t know what the real Eiffel would say, but…

A burst of static. A pause. Then Hera’s voice floating over the intercom. “---Done. Oh, there we go. Communications systems are back online.” She sounded cheerful, at least. Then Hera’s voice softened, speaking to Minkowski only, she assumed. “Did that.. Do whatever you needed it to, Commander?” 

“Yeah, Hera. Thanks.” Minkowski hesitated a moment longer. Eiffel was still sitting in front of her, but she knew he’d be gone when she turned her back. Still drifting, out there, somewhere, in a direction she could pinpoint but couldn't follow. But she could sleep, and put herself on a regular rotation with Lovelace and Hilbert, and work out a plan to handle any alarms when they went off. She could do that much. Sighing, she turned from the console and started back out into the rest of the station.

[ofdreamsanddoodles]

making a post about the new designs made me realize that not everyone is probably aware of everything the penumbra podcast has done, so in light of the fact that they’ve officially stated they will eventually release a statement, here is a brief list of everything to keep in mind if/when they apologize:

hiring on an artist, Michaela Buckley (@/disasterscenario on tumblr) who’s designs were both racist & transmisogynist (post about it here) and then declaring these designs as canon, despite the cast being almost exclusively white vas, which is an issue with all her podcast art (like drawing damien from the bright sessions, a literal mind controlling villain, black, as well as a villain from wolf 359) here’s an example of some of the art in question

then, after being called out, said the designs were never really meant to be taken as “completely” canon (meaning any complaint of them hiring an artist who saw juno, an alcoholic with a broken home & anger issues, & making him black was just something they couldn’t control or change) and then only released an apology after said artist had left of her own choice to pursue other projects 

here is a twitter thread on disasterscenario’s apology. she’d said something previously, but it looks like she’s come back to it & apologized more thoroughly which i appreciate, though she hasn’t actually mentioned any of the racism involved. one thing she mentions is them wanting to do something “subversive” by having a black lead, despite doing none of the work for it.

despite the penumbra’s apology (which was more an apology for making the art canon than the racism) merch using those designs are still available on their store despite them saying they’ve discontinued merch. not entirely impossible for it to all be leftover, but considering it’s been several years i feel like it maybe should just be taken down entirely

not only that, but there has been a history of transmisogyny and racism in the story itself, as far back as the first penumbra episode, which described an asian family as “breeding like rabbits” (though i believe that was corrected with the newer version of it) issues that are only more prominant  in the latest season, which also included deadnaming vespa and constantly misgendering ale, the later of which was was excused with “but i’m too attracted to him for him to NOT be a woman.” even if your story is intended to show people that your characters can learn to be better despite living in a bigoted kingdom, misgendering a guy about a hundred times despite his clear frustration doesn’t really work, because all you’ve shown is that angelo doesn’t want to learn about this, since clearly ale’s distress isn’t worth him correcting himself over

despite getting feedback from fans from all of these fronts, still hired artist Ellison Estephan, who is also transmisogyistic and racist, which i’ve already talked about here, and when fans understandably were upset, harley tagaki kaner made a post about people “bullying in the name of social justice” on twitter

all of this is important to remember to make sure they honestly take responsibility for their actions. if they claim to still be learning, ask yourself why the effort and energy of all their trans fans & fans of color hasn’t been enough to teach them anything so far, and how much emotional labor these fans, as well as allies, will have to go through to continue to hold them accountable. if they claim they hadn’t realized the designs were racist, what proof do you have that they actually understood the criticism the first time? how can you promise they won’t do this again? even if they do genuinely want to do better, how many of their fans of color & trans fans will they keep hurting in the process?

[wolf359transcripts]

Wolf 359 Season 1 Episode 7 - “The Sound and the Fury”

This episode features multiple sections where people talk over other conversations in the background, which made it... interesting to transcribe. I've transcribed the background conversations as best I could, and those are linked in the appropriate places on this post.

As always, corrections and additions are very welcome! Please send an ask if you can figure out the words that I left as "unclear"!

[intro music]

Welcome to Wolf 359.

Hera: [from a distance] You are being completely irrational, Commander. There’s no need to take that tone of voice with me.

Minkowski: [from a distance] I’m being irrational? You’re the one that’s been holding critical information –

[Hera and Minkowski continue arguing in the background]

Eiffel: God, they’re still at it.

Eiffel: This is the audio log of Communications Officer Eiffel, recording from the comms room of the Hephaestus Station. It’s day five hundred and twelve since mission launch. And, you’re all just in time for tonight’s entertainment. Holyfield/Tyson, the Leo Constellation match. I don’t know who threw the first punch, but it’s been going for the past two hours. And of course they decide to host The Sound and the Fury right outside my door. God forbid I need to go get anything to eat, or use the bathroom, or anything like that. They’ll have to stop for air sooner or later. Or uh... at least Minkowski will. In the meantime, that means we gotta make our own fun. So... um...

[soft beep]

Eiffel: Oh! Looks like the calendar for station events for next week just updated in the local server. Perfect.

[typing noises]

Eiffel: Alright... let’s see. On Monday evening, we’ll be going through the gravitational field of a passing comet! So, we’ll be spending most of the day securing the sensitive equipment. Expect localised interruptions... of power and water supplies, as well as mild to moderate turbulence throughout the day. Oh, won’t that be fun.

Eiffel: On Tuesday, we’ll be having another station chess tournament. Given Dr. Hilbert’s uninterrupted fifty-three week winning streak, he has agreed to play blindfolded, and without rooks, bishops, or queens. As always, participation is compulsory. [softly] Dangit.

Eiffel: On Wednesday, our orbital alignment will make it possible to view the solar system through our high-power telescope. If you would like to get a glimpse of home, report to the observatory deck during your off hours.

Eiffel: Thursday will be –

[door slams, Minkowski can be heard particularly loudly in the background]

Eiffel: [clears throat] Thursday will be movie night, if you would like to vote for what film we’ll be watching, submit your written choice to Commander Minkowski. Although since all we have is a VHS of Home Alone 2, the effect of your vote will be negligible.

Eiffel: On Friday, we’ll have mustard. [pause] Um. That’s all it says for Friday. Not sure what that means. I’ll have to ask Minkowski about that one.

Eiffel: On Saturday –

[open intercom buzz]

Eiffel: Hey Dr. Hilbert!

Hilbert: [urgently] Eiffel.

Eiffel: Don’t worry about the clashing titans. I don’t think they’d manage to kill each other just yet.

Hilbert: [alarmed] Eiffel!

Eiffel: Now I haven’t got the foggiest about what set them off. Maybe Hera put skim milk instead of two percent into the Commander’s seaweed this morning?

Hilbert: [drawn out choking] Eiffel!

Eiffel: Besides, you know how they can be. Minkowski does pig-headed obstinacy like it’s an Olympic sport, and Hera’s a grandmaster at the passive-aggressive slow burn. I guess it was just a matter of time before things got to a boil.

Hilbert: [monotonously] Eiffel.

Eiffel: Anyway. What’s going on with you, Doc? [gasp] Wait, how did your thing go? You were looking for that weird plant monster thing again, right? Were you finally able to kill it?

Hilbert: [monotonously] I would never harm specimen thirty-four, Eiffel. Specimen thirty-four is the most evolutionarily competitive life form on this station. The most deserving of life.

Eiffel: ...Right on. So, what can I do you for?

Hilbert: [monotonously] Fertiliser. The greenhouse needs more fertiliser. Where does Commander Minkowski keep the fertiliser?

Eiffel: Um... Down in the storage shed? By engineer – Wait. Did you say fertiliser? I thought you said some – thing else. Y-Yeah, no. Fertiliser is up on the... observatory deck. Yup, uh, way at the top of the station.

Hilbert: [monotonously] Thank you. Your cooperation has been noted. Soon you will be allowed to surrender your life to the growth of your biological superior.

[close intercom buzz]

Eiffel: Welp! Looks like Hilbert’s finally let go of that last shred of sanity! I’d better –

[Hera and Minkowski’s argument ends]

[door opens]

Minkowski: Eiffel! Can you believe this?

[door closes]

Eiffel: Hey Commander! I was just commenting – I think we might have a situation on our hands.

Minkowski: Of course we do. Our operating system is a tin-headed, insubordinate, feckless fool!

Eiffel: N-No, Commander, the thing is –

Minkowski: All I was saying, was that it would be a good idea if she started giving me reports, on all the systems she runs. Just in case there’s another emergency. Is that so unreasonable?

Eiffel: No, but –

Minkowski: Of course it’s not! It’s my ship! I’m responsible for the lives of everyone on board. I ought to know what’s happening behind the scenes.

Eiffel: ... Agreed, but –

Minkowski: And the other things is that –

Eiffel: Commander! [pauses] I hate to distract you from your little spat with our version of Clippy, but I think there’s something seriously wrong with Hilbert.

Minkowski: Little spat?

Eiffel: [irritated sigh]

Minkowski: This is a serious matter of station protocol. Not some teenage squabble. Whose side are you even on?

Eiffel: S-side?

Minkowski: Side.

Eiffel: Well... that’s a... a very complicated question, Commander. With many different... angles, and nuances to explore, and uh... consider. H-Have I ever mentioned that I’m a huge fan of Switzerland?

Minkowski: Oh, it doesn’t seem all that complicated to me. I think that you either agree with me that Hera is being unreasonable by not wanting to acquiesce to a very simple demand, or you think that a piece of buggy, malfunctioning software knows better than your commanding officer.

Eiffel: Gee, look at the time. I-I gotta go.

Minkowski: Sit your Swiss ass down and pick a side, Doug!

Eiffel: Well...

Minkowski: Oh of course. Fine. Take her side. You’re both utterly useless.

Eiffel: No no no. It’s not like that. I totally see your point. Hera’s made some mistakes since you got here, dangerous mistakes. I get that we can’t just trust her with all the systems that are keeping us alive.

Minkowski: [surprised] We can’t?

Eiffel: No, I’m a-absolutely of the opinion you can only trust artificial intelligences about as far as you can throw ‘em.

Minkowski: I didn’t know that.

Eiffel: You didn’t?

Minkowski: No, I didn’t.

Hera: Neither did I.

[silence]

Eiffel: ... Hera?

Hera: Hello, Officer Eiffel.

Eiffel: I [nervous chuckle] didn’t realise you were... with us, as it were.

Hera: Yes, I noticed.

Minkowski: Go away, Hera. This is a private conversation.

Hera: No. If I’m going to be the subject of this little têté-á-têté, I’d like to have my têté in the mix. I wanna hear what else Officer Eiffel has to say about me.

Eiffel: Now Hera, to be fair, you know how critical I am of Commander Minkowski.

Minkowski: You are?

Eiffel: ...No, of course not! I... only think the highest of you.

Hera: So you agree with her that I’m incompetent, is that it?

Eiffel: ...No, I think you’re doing a great job!

Minkowski: You do?

Eiffel: ...Well... most of the time.

Hera: Most of the time?

Eiffel: Almost all of the time.

Minkowski and Hera, at once: What does that even mean?

Eiffel: I... I... I... I-I think that Hera is an absolutely professional operating system, and... she does a great job and should... be trusted with our lives, except for a few times when... Commander Minkowski could maybe... help by... [irritated] For god’s sake, I can’t be honest with both of you here. Could one of you please step out of the room so I can say what I really think?

Minkowski: Hera, get out.

Hera: Make me.

Minkowski: Why, you cheeky little –

Eiffel: C’mon, Commander, you can’t really hold that against her. It’s just her programming.

Hera: Oh, stop. Stop it. Do you have any idea how condescending that is? Just chalking everything I do to my programming? What if I just went around blaming every stupid decision you make on biology?

Eiffel: Hera.

Hera: “Why are they doing that? Isn’t that a bit dangerous?” “Oh. Never mind, that’s just their... biology.” “That’s a terrible idea. Don’t they know any better?” “Just that pesky ol’ biology!” “We really should have sprang for the more expensive model.”

Eiffel: Hera.

Hera: “Good god! Why are they playing with that? They’re going to get us all blown up!” “Oh. It’s just their biology. We’ll just have God take a look under the hood the next time he comes by.”

Eiffel: Okay okay. I’m sorry. You know I didn’t mean it like that.

Hera: Do I? Apparently you don’t trust artificial intelligences now.

Eiffel: Hey. You can’t hold that against me. You were practically wire-tapping.

Hera: So what?

Eiffel: So you... can’t go off on that! I-I was just lying to Commander Minkowski to get her off my back!

Minkowski: Still here, actually.

Eiffel: Oh god damn it. Look. I just meant that –

Hera: Of course you tried to intimidate Eiffel into siding with you. Why am I not surprised?

Minkowski: Please. Like you wouldn’t have done the same? You’re just annoyed that I beat you to the punch.

[open intercom buzz]

Hera: Oh, right. Like I actually care enough about what you do, to try and sabotage you.

[Hera and Minkowski continue arguing in the background]

[switch clicks]

Eiffel: Hey, Dr. Hilbert? Have you found any of those marbles yet?

Hilbert: [monotonously] I know what you tried to do. You tried to stop the Blessed Eternal’s growth. You tried to hide the seed of life.

Eiffel: [sighs] See? That’s exactly what I was afraid you were going to say.

Hilbert: You are no better than the oppressor. Your death shall be no quicker, no less painful, no less humiliating. You scream shall echo through –

Eiffel: Yup. [sighs] Death, plant monster, fertiliser. Got it. Talk to you later.

[close intercom buzz]

Hera: That’s right, Commander, just fall back on the military training. Don’t try solving your problems like a human being or anything.

Eiffel: Hey guys? Guys?

Minkowski: Where do you even get off saying that to me? You’re not even human!

Eiffel: Oi!

Minkowski and Hera, at once: What?

Eiffel: Look. Our rating on the peril-o-meter just went from “Spidey-sense is tingling”, to “Bat Signal in the sky”, so this argument is over, okay? It’s stupid fight to begin with, and your referee is throwing in the towel. So let’s all just stop, okay? I think you’re both great. I think you both do your jobs really, really, really well. I think that you’re both intelligent and have good judgement, and you can definitely find a way to compromise and work together. And just in case it wasn’t already obvious, I am absolutely terrified of both of you. But making me choose a side between the woman who has the military authority to shoot me, and the woman who makes my oxygen, is only gonna end in tears. Now. Something is seriously up with Dr. Hilbert. I don’t know if he’s under some kind of... hypnosis, or mind control, or if he’s just gone madder than he normally is, but he’s defecting to team mutant plant monster. Right now, he’s feeding his new boss all the fertiliser we have left in the supply shed. And the last thing we need is our deadly stowaway growing more teeth. The fact that I’m trying to get the two of you to do the responsible thing is scary enough. But I would really like to take care of the situation before we reach Audrey II territory! So what if I said that I don’t trust Hera? So what if I called Minkowski obstinate? Who the hell cares? Can we go deal with the emergency?

Minkowski: Wait. You never called me obstinate.

[silence]

Eiffel: Did I say obstinate? I meant... um...

Minkowski: Have you been talking about me behind my back?

Eiffel: I- I- I would never!

Hera: Yeah... he would.

Eiffel: [through gritted teeth] Hera.

Hera: You were doing it just earlier, when you were talking to Dr. Hilbert.

Eiffel: [hushed] No, don’t!

Minkowski: To Dr. Hilbert? You conniving little snake! What were you saying behind my back?

Eiffel: [nervous chuckle] You know... [nervous chuckle] I... don’t think I really remember now.

Hera: Oh, one moment.

[static burst]

Eiffel: [in recording] Besides, you know how they can be. Minkowski does pig-headed obstinacy like it’s an Olympic sport –

[static burst]

Minkowski: An Olympic sport?

Eiffel: [sarcastically] Gee. Thanks a lot, Hera!

Eiffel: Y...eah. An Olympic – So, in a certain way, I was... complimenting you?

Minkowski: Mhm? Nice try.

Eiffel: Hey wait a minute! That wasn’t all I said. Hera. Play the rest of that tape.

Hera: I’m... hm. I’m having difficulty finding the rest of that recording, Officer Eiffel. I may have accidentally deleted it.

Eiffel: Oh, you don’t say. Well isn’t that grand.

Hera: Don’t let Commander Minkowski get to you. She’s just afraid that the advent of artificial, highly efficient administrative intelligences are rendering middle managers and petty officers like herself obsolete. She’s just taking out her insecurities on you.

Minkowski: And again, I’m still here.

Hera: And, she’s just trying to micro-manage me because she’s feeling threatened.

Minkowski: Threatened? By you? Hah! Alright. I would maybe feel a tiny twinge of threat from your highly efficient intelligence, if, say, if everything on this station wasn’t breaking all the time. Or, if we could go a full week without any weird mechanical problems. Or – Oh, oh! Here’s a good one! If your voice box didn’t glitch every ten words.

Hera: Careful, Commander. Your biology is showing.

Eiffel: Can we please go deal with the crazy plant worshipper?

Minkowski: No. We’re going to have this out, right now. Do you really think I’m obstinate?

Hera: And do you really think I’m not trustworthy?

Eiffel: What the hell do you want me to say?

Minkowski: Just say what you really think!

Eiffel: What I really think? Okay. Fine. I think you’re both crazy. I think you’re both one hundred percent cuckoo bananas right now. You’ve spent the last two hours shouting at each other literally over nothing. And not even the prospect of losing the entire station to a crazy horticulture experiment has been able to get the two of you to snap out of it! You’ve been yelling at each other for the past five minutes over what? Me lying to you? Me saying something awful? Like that’s any kind of news! Why the hell do you even care what I think? I’m so far beneath both of you that I shouldn’t even register on your radars. So no. I don’t really think you’re obstinate. And no, I don’t really think you’re not trustworthy. I think what’s really the problem here, is that you’re both so childish, and so petty, that you’re literally putting our lives in danger, just so that you can win a stupid argument!

[announcement chime]

Hilbert: [monotonously] Crew of the Hephaestus. I am here to inform you that your spaceship is now the property of the Blessed Eternal. It is fruitful and plentiful. It is a light in the cold, and the dark, and the ash –

[Hilbert continues to monologue]

Minkowski: [sighs] Alright. Let’s go deal with this. Hera, do we still have those canisters of halothane knockout gas hooked up to the ventilation system?

Hera: Yep, they’re still armed.

Minkowski: Alright. Let’s start pumping those into the greenhouse, bridge, and the engineering section, and go from there. Let’s knock him out before he does any more damage, and then we’ll see about stopping whatever that thing is doing to control him.

Eiffel: Yeah, that sounds great, let’s –

Minkowski: Not. You.

Eiffel: What?

Minkowski: You stay here. I’ll deal with you later.

[door slams]

Eiffel: Ugh, awesome. Well. Guess I really screwed the pooch on this one huh, Hera.

[silence, apart from Hilbert’s monologue]

Eiffel: Oh great. Real mature, both of you.

[pause]

Eiffel: Shut up, plant Hilbert.

[switch clicks loudly, Hilbert’s monologue is cut off]

[outro music]

Eiffel: From the USS Hephaestus Station, this has been Officer Doug Eiffel. Let’s see if anyone ever talks to me again after this. Goodnight.

This has been Wolf 359, written and directed by Gabriel Urbina. The roles of Eiffel and Hilbert were played by Zach Valenti. The role of Minkowski was played by Emma Sherr-Ziarko. The role of Hera was played by Michaela Swee. Original music by Alan Rodi, and audio recording by Jared Paul. Ready to surrender your feeble human flesh to the Blessed Eternal? Then visit us online, at wolf359.fm, and follow us on Twitter at @Wolf359Radio for more information about our show.

Transcription by @saltssaumure

[aestheticcommons]

Double Media Feature

So if Die Hard, Sirens, and Brooklyn 99 had a baby...it would be this. It is hilarious. A bomb diffuse team on NYE trying to beat a record. It's short, it's great, it's got Jacobi, Loveless, and Eiffel from Wolf 359. I laughed out loud and started talking to the podcast.

So what am I working on while I do this?

I am revitalizing a copy of Maurice I bought from a used book store that fell apart upon opening it. I think the person who originally bought it never read it. It was a really copy glued together size 9 font affair with no margins. Add to this the fact that the book is close to 30 years old....and you can imagine the amount of damage. Maurice one of my favorite books. I think I like it for the reasons that other people like Jane Austen. I don't really care for Jane Austen, but I love the movie adaptations. They're great background noise. Plot wise though I get frustrated because it's still the upper class discarding the lower class (I am looking at you Sense and Sensibility) or supposing to lean into challenging class expectations by doing exactly what is best case scenario (That would be you Pride and Prejudice). The only one I really liked was Lady Susan and really I liked that one because it was SO much like Les Liaisons dangereuses.

Maurice is a favorite because Maurice chooses Alec and Alec chooses him. They really do forsake EVERYTHING for one another. I guess it's like what Pride and Prejudice would be if Darcy really did pick someone beneath him and the story was told from his side....or if any of the men in Sense and Sensibility had actually stood by any of the women they had knocked up or abandoned. It's more romantic to me I guess because it's.....

Yupe it's both of them going full Carly Rae Jepsen.

I've managed to get the thing type set correct, got the page numbers on there and did a few additions for my own sake. The joys of binding means that I can make the book "better."

Really by better I mean more user friendly. I've added a table of contents, and about halfway though an index (I had to redo it twice now, it's hard on the spirit to have SUCH failure), and the update of the global stance of homosexuality for 2022. I'm currently at over 100 hours on this project, but I think it's well worth the time given that legislation I saw take root in Virginia. I worry for the state of minority and queer texts with things like that in the wings, but to be fair I also worry about another Hays Code era given that some of the books tangled up in that lawsuit are straight couples.

This is how these things kind of start....legislation and the law can be dangerous. But maybe I'm paranoid. But...given what Texas and Florida and even Georgia have going on...needless to say I'm cultivating avenues to protect banned/challenged books. We always say it's to protect kids, but it's really about just removing chances to curate empathy I think. It's to casually and quietly make people "weird" or "strange" and in doing so make children grow up believing that those people might be wrong or evil. That's how you teach children hatred.

Now thinking about what I'm doing....I guess Maurice was the right choice to bind and customize. The whole book Maurice is struggling with who he is...

When I'm finished, DM me if you would like a copy of my edition? Anyone interested in my hundred of notes regarding the symbolism that I did when I was proofing my screwed up print outs that @evil-robot-cat had to pep talk me through?

[everamazingfe]

A Close Shave

Fic Summary: After being picked up by the Urania and brought back to the Hephaestus station, Communications Officer Doug Eiffel tries to come to terms with his new look. It doesn’t go well. Luckily, Jacobi comes along to save the day. 

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

Words in this fic: 2082 Pairings: Doug Eiffel/Daniel Jacobi Warnings for this fic: Brief mentions of abuse

Notes: I got into Wolf 359 at the start of this year, and after relistening to it recently I decided to start writing some fics. I was pretty nervous about posting this, but I couldn't keep it in my drafts forever, so here it is! There’s also a link to this fic over on A O 3 as the source of this post! Click it to go read it over there, or you can search up the title or ‘everamazingfe’ on the site.

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There was something about him, Eiffel had decided within the first few seconds of seeing him for the first time. His face was mostly blank unless he had some sly comment to say, some sarcastic remark, and then that stony expression was replaced by something cockier, more smug. Sometimes there was a flash of softness to it, usually when Maxwell was speaking. But even when his face was at its blankest, there was a mischievous gleam in those bright green eyes of his.

Eiffel had never really noticed anyone’s eyes before. He didn’t know Minkowski’s eye color, or Lovelace’s for that matter. Hell, Eiffel didn’t even know if he knew his own eye color at this point, he avoided looking in mirrors at all costs. But for some reason, he’d noticed Jacobi’s. Not only had he noticed it, but he had committed it to memory as well. 

For a moment, he was convinced he could picture them clearly as he stared out the window above his comms panel, making eye contact with them in the reflection of the glass. Somehow, he was able to picture his face with perfect clarity too, despite only seeing it a handful of times while he was in sound mind. 

“Feel good to be home?” The Jacobi that Eiffel thought he was picturing in his mind so clearly spoke, startling him out of his trance and making him jump because it wasn’t his imagination, it was the real deal. It made sense, he’d never had a very visual imagination anyway, but there was always hope for a change of mind. “Wow, I didn’t think I was all that scary, Officer Eiffel.”

“You’re not,” he grumbled with a huff of indignation, grabbing the edge of his station and pulling himself back to it, hooking his knees beneath it to keep himself there. “I just… Got lost in thought.”

“You? Capable of thought? Now that’s something that wasn’t included in your file.” There it was, that stupid sly grin that Jacobi always had when he thought he was being oh-so-clever. Usually, he was. But that joke had become played out within the first month on the station.

Eiffel responded with mock laughter, trying to ignore the way that comment made an invisible knife twist in his chest. After all he’d done, no one thought he was good at anything. What a surprise. But he didn’t have time to unpack all of that right then. “Get some new material, I’ve heard it all before,” he drawled, hoping he looked as bored as he sounded. “I’m a slacker, I’m an idiot, I’m a motormouth. Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Your shoe’s untied.” 

Maybe there was some truth to one of those three things, because like the idiot he was, Eiffel had that brief moment of panic everyone had when someone told them that their shoe was untied, or their fly was down, or there was something on their shirt. And because of that panic, he looked down. It had completely slipped his mind that he hadn’t even worn shoes in the two (Three? Did those hundred days hurtling through space count? He didn’t know.) years he had been on the Hephaestus. “Oh, goddammit!” He groaned as he stared down at his socked feet in dismay, trying to tune out the cackling laughter Jacobi let out behind him that sent him halfway across the room. 

“You’re also gullible, apparently!” He let himself continue his path across the room so he could push off the back wall, still in a fit of giggles as he sailed back to the console. “You actually fell for it! I can’t believe it! I’ve never gotten anyone with that before.” Jacobi’s grin was bigger than it had ever been, and he wiped the tears from his eyes before they wreaked havoc on the station’s internal systems. Maxwell was too smart to fall for a simple trick like that, and Kepler… Well, Kepler didn’t like being pranked. 

Eiffel grumbled something incoherently, waiting patiently for Jacobi to get over himself before he spoke again. “Was there a real reason you came down here?”

“No, not really. Kepler’s giving Minkowski an orientation for her new role and then he needed to discuss… something with Hilbert, I don’t even wanna know. And Ala- Maxwell’s busy with Hera. So, I was bored.”

“What about Lovelace?”

“Dunno. Didn’t ask. Didn’t care.”

“Right… So you came to interrupt my very important work?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Lucky me.”

“Lucky you.” Jacobi made himself comfortable, lounging in the free-floating bliss that was zero-g as Eiffel pretended to look busy, though his eyes were fixed on the reflection of the man in the glass. The bright light of Wolf 359 backlit him beautifully, and the color in the star seemed to desaturate everything else in the reflection, except for those damn eyes. 

Eiffel let out a sigh, bringing a hand up to run it through his hair, his fingers brushing through the empty space where his long curls used to be. He let out a frustrated growl, moving his hand up to his scalp. The little hair that was left was scraggly and damaged as hell. It was coarse and patchy, and it scratched his hand uncomfortably when he ran his hand over it. “Actually. I have an idea of something we can do.” He turned around to look at the real Jacobi, who arched an eyebrow in silent encouragement for him to go on. “Come with me.”

He’d had his head shaved a handful of times, and it was usually under duress. The first time was as a punishment for getting gum stuck in it, even though he hadn’t been the one to put gum there, and it would’ve been much easier to just cut the chunk out rather than shave his whole head. The second time had been when he’d joined the military. This would make number three, but this time it was necessary, despite the fact that his goal had really been to never cut his hair again. All that length had meant a lot to him, it meant that he had control over something in his life, finally, but the cryofreeze had, apparently, had other plans for it.

Additionally, most of the shaving kits, particularly their razors, had been dismantled for Minkowski’s crusade against Blessie. God only knew where all of those had ended up, or if they were still even on the station, but he knew there was one that was still safely tucked away. 

“Wow, Eiffel. I thought you would’ve liked to wine and dine your dates before bringing them home. You always struck me as more of a gentleman than that.”

“Shut up.” He rooted around in his locker, letting various pieces of uniform and whatever else had been shoved in there float freely around them as he did so. Most of it was contraband that he should’ve been more careful about getting seen, but he was too focused. Once he found the kit, he let out a soft, ‘a ha!’ And underhand tossed it to Jacobi. “You’re shaving my head.”

For once, Jacobi didn’t have some sort of sarcastic remark to make in response. He was just confused. “Sorry?”

“I can’t… I can’t stand it being like this. I can’t. And it’ll never grow back right with the ends this damaged, and I don’t really feel like cutting myself a thousand times in the process. So you’re doing it for me.” He tried to make his voice sound commanding, authoritative, but instead he just sounded desperate, irritated, upset. His hair meant so much to him, but he could stand to be without it for a little bit. He’d done it before, he could do it again. What he couldn’t stand was the sorry excuse for hair that he’d been left with. 

“You don’t think I’d use the razor to kill you? It’d be the perfect opportunity.”

“If you wanted to kill me, you could’ve done it back on the Urania when I was half dead.” 

“You hadn’t annoyed me as much back then.”

“I mean, if you really want to, I guess you can, but… I’d really just like my head shaved, please.”

A dramatic sigh filled the silence, and then: “Ugh, fine. But you owe me.”

That was good enough for Eiffel, and he trailed along behind Jacobi to the Hephaestus’ bathroom. Gravity was a little different in there, as in it was actually present in order to make showering and other general acts of hygiene (that Eiffel didn’t really partake in) a little easier. So he was able to sit on the counter and stare their reflections down as Jacobi stood behind him, setting the kit beside him on the counter. 

Jacobi wasn’t a friend, not by a longshot. In Minkowski’s book, he was part of ‘the enemy.’ But they’d spent a decent amount of time together after he’d been picked up by the Urania, and even a little bit of time before that over the comms. Someone had to keep in touch with him and keep up-to-date on his coordinates so the ship could get a lock on his location, and Kepler had felt like that work was beneath the highly intellectual minds of himself and Maxwell, so it had fallen to Jacobi. And Eiffel hadn’t minded, because beneath all the smart remarks, the guy was alright to talk to. A little stilted, maybe, but that wasn’t anything he couldn’t work with. It was better on the Urania. Easier, at least, because Jacobi’s body language did a lot of the talking for him. Once again, helping Eiffel was deemed grunt work, so Jacobi had been the one stuck tending to his wounds, helping him get around when he was too weak to even keep his eyes open, and adjust to eating again after not doing it for a hundred days (though with all of the substitutes for rations Hilbert dared to call food, one could argue it had been even longer since he’d really eaten). 

Long story short, Eiffel liked Jacobi to some degree. The guy was alright in his book, and he was sure the feeling was mutual, because he could’ve easily said no, or done a hackjob of it, or killed him. But instead, he took his time and made sure that he didn’t miss any spots, his other hand resting gently on Eiffel’s head to keep it steady despite all the fidgeting. 

After the first pass, Eiffel moved to get off the counter, to turn around and thank Jacobi, but a firm hand on his shoulder pushed him back down. 

“I gotta go again, make sure I didn’t miss a spot. It looked awful before, but it’ll look even worse if there’s just a tiny patch with a few hairs left.”

Eiffel furrowed his eyebrows together, but nodded and got comfortable again. As comfortable as he could, at least. His ass was already numb and the feeling was starting to spread down to his legs, but hopefully the second pass would go quicker. 

And it did, kind of. Jacobi didn’t need to clean the hair from the razor as often because there was barely any left, but he still took that same slow and gentle care as he had the first time. When he was done, he wiped off the leftover shaving cream with a nearby towel, smiling genuinely as Eiffel lifted a hand to feel over his scalp. “Well? How does it feel?”

“It feels great,” he answered earnestly, laughing in relief. He didn’t hate the way his reflection looked anymore, and now he could actually believe everyone when they told him to pull it together because it would grow back eventually. Hopefully this made the process easier. His eyes drifted to Jacobi’s in the mirror, mirroring that same smile. “Thank you... I really do owe you.”

“Yeah, you do.” The genuine smile faded to his usual cocky grin, and Eiffel threw the towel at him. It hit him square in the face, but it didn’t wipe away that look. “But… You’re welcome.” He offered him a hand to help him off the counter, steadying him with a chuckle when he nearly lost his balance. “Gravity that hard on you, Doug?”

“No! It’s just… That counter was not very comfortable to sit for that long on. And yeah, I guess gravity’s pretty hard to adjust to too.” 

“Well then we’d better get you back to the lazy embrace of zero-g.”

[theradioghost]

@klysanderelias replied to your post “love to describe media I adore badly”

hey what the FUCK is that last one because I need to get on that shit IMMEDIATELY

That would be my absolute favorite podcast hands down, Greater Boston! If that snippet has you intrigued, my “the podcast that never returned” tag (a joke about the theme song, not the release schedule) is largely full of my continuous attempts to come up with a summary that does anything resembling justice to how weird and wonderful this show is! But suffice it to say, I love this story enough that I paid a licensed professional a couple hundred bucks to stab a representation of one of my favorite concepts from it into my physical body.

Unless you were talking about one of the other things in the list, in which case they are, in order: Ancillary Justice, Pushing Daisies, Les Miserables, The Left Hand of Darkness, The Shape of Water, and Wolf 359.

[hellotrickster]

Some podcast recs. Not by any means an exhaustive list! I’ll probably end up adding more and more.

The Magnus Archives

Horror drama masquerading as a horror anthology. Very incredible plotting and character writing, QUEER PROTAGONIST AND DEUTERAGONIST. It’s my favorite. It’s taught me about having hope again in the darkest of circumstances, and the knowledge that horror and tragedy can be cathartic, when done right. I’m still reeling on the floor from all of it.

The Penumbra Podcast: Juno Steel

Depressed bisexual nb detective Juno Steel solves mysteries and murders with sarcastic one-liners he practices in the mirror in a queer cyberpunk future on Mars as he tangles with a clever thieves, ancient alien telepathy, rogue cybernetics, his own trauma and survivor’s guilt, giant sewer rabbits, politicians and mobsters out to get him, and trying to look cool.

The Penumbra Podcast: Second Citadel

A collection of knights and knights-to-be and the monsters that they hunt in a series of rotating stories that eventually unifies all of them. We’ve got queer characters and characters with disabilities, enemies to lovers, a singing castle, a polycule, and a secret inverted pretending to be married, scalies. It’s a delight, and definitely reminds me of a more ensemble-variant of Xena.

Wolf 359

Found family IN SPACE but also like roommates who want to kill each other. Starts out fairly lighthearted and turns into an epic story that destroys you and remakes you and then grinds you apart again. Survival on a station many light years from earth is tough! Also lots of contemplation of personhood, agency, and spaaaaaace. Badass ladies, banter, suffering, love, a plant monster.

Zero Hours

Gabriel Urbina back at it again in an anthology that visits the end of the world — over and over again, each time a hundred years apart, spanning the 1700s to the far future. Sometimes hopeful, sometimes hurtful, it left me feeling grateful to exist. Featuring beloved voice actors from a bunch of other podcasts on this list, it’s a wonderful work of art (though thematically may be a little difficult right now, so please take care.)

Kane & Feels

Horror-urban-fantasy-noir! Lucifer Kane and Brutus Feels are paranormal investigators who deal with problems in the veil between worlds. Of everything on this list, it feels the most like a graphic novel and is fun as hell. Sometimes it’s a little tricky to tell what’s going on but goddamn does it have so much style and fun.

Archive 81

Each season is remarkably different from the one before. In a lot of ways, it’s almost a Lovecraftian adventure series, with parallel worlds and dark rituals with the grimmest of prices exacted. What’s particularly powerful about it is its quality audio and foley design. The intricacies of the rituals in season three compared with the rituals in The Magnus Archives will make you laugh and laugh and laugh.

Wooden Overcoats

Tim Burton-y or Addams Family British comedy about rival funeral parlors. Feels like it should be animated by Don Bluth. It’s very unfortunate and very hilarious, and you might end up wanting all the characters to be happy somehow. The voice acting quality is so polished and phenomenal.

Victoriocity

Steampunk London! Tom Crowley — certified Handsome Voice Eric Chapman in Wooden Overcoats — is here as Inspector Fleet who ends up embroiled in trying to solve a massive conspiracy mystery with the intrepid journalist Clara Entwhistle. Another audio delight, with great comedic beats and fascinating world building. Lots of crime solving hijinks and teamwork, though Inspector Fleet is very reluctant at first to be part of a crime-solving partnership.

Girl in Space

Scientist found family revolution. It’s basically a bottle episode science fiction film, but it’s so sincere and kind I really adore it. X is a scientist surviving alone in a spaceship whose favorite movie is Jurassic Park, and who could really use a friend. Hopepunk to its toes, with the belief in the dignity of every person.

I Am In Eskew

Lovecraftian horror city setting, described in the dreamily calm voice of David Ward. Relaxing horror, with lovely prose and really creative concepts, backdropped by a steady rain. At times totally grotesque, but at the same time really soothing. Excellent for relaxing, since David does not seem shocked or surprised by anything that goes on, and deals with things as logically as living in a non-Euclidean world allows.

D&D and Tabletop

Rusty Quill Gaming

Yes, you know you need it in your life. Fictional steampunk London in which D&D races exist, Greek gods are real, and the world is ruled by a group of dragons called the Meritocrats. Starring: an ex-pirate dwarf cleric of Poseidon, a halfling Egyptian sorcerer, a slippery bundle of knives of a person, and a pompous idiot from the House of Lords whose worst fear is “the poors.” Eventually also a six-foot orc paladin of Aphrodite in bright glowing pink armor, a goblin paladin that will shoot off your kneecaps, and an alchemist that is a cross between Gambit and Jillian Holtzmann. You’ll learn how evil Alex J Newall is, and it’s wonderful.

Campaign Podcast: Skyjacks

Piracy has taken flight as four idiots try to Weekend At Bernie’s their dead captain and sail their airship to riches and adventure. Worth it especially for Gable, a seven-foot-tall non-binary immortal who can’t flirt for SHIT, but I love everybody in their little family. Lots of great improv and group-built storytelling, lots of goofs.

[caladblog]

*cracks knuckles*

so i’ve been working on a project. here is your first glimpse of this project.

[wolf 359, canon divergence AU from the start of s4, according to the scripts the mutiny was day 1082 & the contact event was day 1083]

teaser: but what's puzzling you is the nature of my game. Plus, blind loyalty, next quarter's budgets, quantum threading, substandard TV, and all this time.

===

HEPHAESTUS DAY 1101 / MARCH 28, 2017:

On the gravel-covered roof of the main Goddard Futuristics administration building, nestled between two air conditioning units, sits a satellite dish not listed on any blueprints. In and of itself, this isn't suspicious. But apart from its odd location, it isn't marked with a manufacturer's logo or even a serial number, and it seems far too small to provide more than a substandard TV service.

Sprawled on the gravel nearby is Marcus Cutter, fanning himself with a folder of reports from personnel scouts located in minor but secure positions across a wide variety of companies and state departments. "Do you ever wonder," he muses, "where humanity would be without us?"

There is a slim laptop plugged into the satellite dish and a microphone plugged into the laptop and Miranda Pryce is tending to both, sitting cross-legged and heedless of the stifling humidity. "No," she says.

"They'd probably still be stuck in the solar system, bless their hearts." By now, he has gotten used to carrying most of the load during conversations with Miranda Pryce. "A couple permanent outposts on Mars, maybe an aerostatic platform on Venus if they could solve the sulfuric acid thing. Plodding researchers all pulling in different directions, never really getting anywhere significant."

"'Disturb us, Lord, to dare more boldly, to venture on wilder seas where storms will show Your mastery; where losing sight of land, we shall find the stars'," she quotes absently.

"Yes, exactly. If we weren't around to disturb them, they'd never bother to lose sight of land." He checks his watch, sighs, and continues fanning himself. "I like to think they'd have cracked fusion power, at least. But in my more melancholic moments I remember that it's 2017 and they're still murdering each other for oil."

"There are worse ways to spend an evening," she replies. "Stuck waiting with you when you're feeling philosophical, just as a random example."

"Now, Miranda," he says, very patiently, "we both know that if it was up to me, we wouldn't be waiting at all--"

"Oh, yes, how will you ever find it in your heart to forgive me for wanting a slightly more solid confirmation of outstanding phenomena than the word of Warren Kepler." She stabs the laptop keys in disgust. "That proposal was ill-conceived from start to finish and I don't know what possessed me to sign off on it. Finding someone amusing doesn't make them qualified for the execution of our life's work."

"It isn't only Warren's word--"

"Fine, the word of Warren Kepler and a handful of miscellaneous rejects." Her lip curls. "I've been brushing up on the Hephaestus's active portfolio and I just have to say: of course it would be them. Why couldn't it have been the U.S.S. Anaideia? Or the U.S.S. Themis, that crew has consistently tested in the eighty-fifth percentile for 'blind loyalty' over the last two years they've been in the sky. Which would be really useful right now."

"On the subject of how much you hate dealing with people, unmanned probes have always been cheaper and quicker to build," Cutter points out. They've had this argument before, but if they didn't both enjoy rehashing old arguments one of them would've murdered the other a very long time ago. "We could've achieved this level of coverage by the nineties, maybe even the eighties if you'd just listened to me back then."

"And if I'd listened to you back then, we'd be sitting on two or three decades of useless data," Pryce scoffs. "Unmanned probes aren't a very tempting piece of bait, are they? Can't catch a fish if you're not willing to skewer a few hundred worms."

As the one who gets the most enjoyment out of skewering worms, he really shouldn't protest, but he's bored. "An unmanned probe would've returned these results by now."

"No, it wouldn't, because radiation moves the same speed in a vacuum whether it's being looked at by a machine or an eyeball," she says, saccharine and condescending. "I am not moving forward on the virtue of one data point, Marcus, and if you had a single gram of sense in your entire skull then you wouldn't either."

He rolls onto his stomach facing her and bats his eyelashes. "So you catch me alone on the roof of our workplace at night, and then you start sweet-talking me? Why, Miranda, I never thought that you'd--"

"Quick, shut up," she says, shoving the microphone at him. "Bunker E just started building a live transmission with the Hermes. Outside of Goddard's official channels, the best line-of-sight is an ESA lunar research base to an American telecom satellite."

Cutter sits up, all business. "Who cares if those go dark for ten minutes? Do it."

"Already done."

"Estimated total lag?"

"Four minutes, fifty-three seconds."

He hums, disappointed, and picks up the microphone. "I can just about work with that. Get it down to three and a half next time, okay?"

She mutters something nasty about quantum threading under her breath as the comms channel opens. A third of the message is lost to static, but it's still mostly comprehensible.

"Visual--of Wolf 359 on--and short-range scans. We've sent--raw images from--scope, they're unbelievable. Even--what would happen--wasn't prepared to see it myself, still don't like to think--possible. Repeat: Hermes Actual--independent confirmation of hue change in--59 as reported by Urania upon arrival at Hephaestus station. Further instructions?"

The uplink crackles. Despite the five-minute delay, Cutter drags the silence out nice and long before saying in cold, clipped tones, "That'll have to be sufficient. Maintain mission parameters. I will keep this in mind when reviewing our budgets for this coming quarter."

He doesn't wait for the commander of the Hermes to respond, just closes the channel the moment he finishes speaking and then turns a three-thousand-watt smile on Pryce. "Has that finally laid your atrocious cynicism to rest?"

"So the first step of the process actually happened," she sniffs. "Doesn't mean that all the rest of the steps have followed. But for the sake of expedience, yes, I suppose we can make that assumption." Her gaze drifts upward, to the panorama of stars half drowned by light pollution, and her voice goes soft. "I never doubted our odds of finding them again. Still, after all this time..."

"I know." His gaze drifts upward as well. "Won't be much longer now."