#and don’t forget we need to set up the farm for meat and things to sell

[femmeaffairs]

a butch offering to play minecraft w me as a date but i say no bcus after the cute moment of putting our beds together i Will make her mine with me until she forgets what daylight looks like

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

Top 5 Best Executed Deaths

A few weeks ago, I did a list talking about the Top 5 Character Deaths That Made Me Side-Eye the Writers and I thought it was only fair that I talk about some of the character deaths that I thought were actually done well. So consider this like a companion to that list. 

Like I said in that T5F, this is TWDG, a game series all about people surviving in a world overrun by zombies. Naturally, characters are going to die. Some of these characters get pretty shitty deaths that only happened to fill a quota, some had effort and thought put into them and how they were going to effect the story and remaining characters. These are deaths that served their purpose, progressed the story, or are an understandable conclusion to a character’s arc. 

Do keep in mind that when I say that I enjoy the way these were done/handled/portrayed/whatever, this isn’t me taking joy outta watching these deaths play out. Hell, I kinda hate most of the deaths on this list, but just because I don’t want this character to die or I wish they stuck around longer doesn’t mean I can’t recognize when it’s executed well, y’know? 

5. Larry and the meat locker incident

So.... Larry’s an asshole, y’know? He made it on another T5F because he sucks. No one likes Larry. 

He treats Lee like garbage, treats his own daughter terribly, and is overall just a piece of shit. That being said, he played his role well. He did what he needed to do which was be a antagonistic character within the group who posed a threat to Lee by threatening to expose his past. He creates a lot of tension within the group, he puts all this pressure on Lilly, you can’t even attempt to show any kindness to him because he doesn’t care about anyone but himself and Lilly. 

That being said.... his death scene is pretty good. Y’know, you play through ep2 for the first time and you’ve just discovered that these people are cannibals and they have you locked in a fucking meat locker so they can butcher you later, and Larry is freakin’ the fuck out because he’s pissed. Lilly is sick in the corner, Kenny is desperately trying to find a way out because they have his family, and Clementine is terrified, and Lee is just waking up. 

You go over and try to calm Larry down because he’s pounding at the door and this dude.... this bastard has the gall to be like “Fuck you, you must really hate me! I’m plannin’ on bein’ around waaaaaay after you’re dead! I’ll be the one to put you down!”

Then he has a heart attack. 

And you’re stuck in this meat locker with him. You don’t know if he’s alive or not-- Kenny immediately deems him dead, Lilly is desperately trying to resuscitate him, and they’re both yelling at you. You gotta decide if you’re gonna help Lilly try to bring him back, or if you’re gonna help Kenny make sure he doesn’t turn. 

Not matter what you do, Kenny smashes Larry’s head in with a damn saltlick because I guess he missed the opening of the episode where they remind you that your actions have consequences. 

Larry’s death has lasting effects on your relationships with both Lilly and Kenny, though more so Kenny since no matter what, Lilly loses it a little and ends up murdering Carley/Doug and leaving the group. But boy, Kenny will never forget the time you didn’t wanna play hero with him and smash a guys head in right in front of his daughter. 

It’s a damn good scene, I gotta hand it to ‘em. I hate Larry and I can’t say I miss him, but I can definitely see both sides of the argument on what to do there. Plus it’s... I dunno, a creative death? and I kinda like that? No one else is out here getting their heads done in with a saltlick, y’know? 

Anyway, Larry sucks but his death? Well done. 

4.  Minerva and the tragic showdown on the bridge

Oh man, I really am digging my own grave with the Minnie crowd lately, huh? Ah well, I’m sure it’s fine. 

Listen...okay, look. I have a lot of feelings about the bridge scene. On one hand, I hate it. On the other hand, I kind of love it? 

Like, does it piss me off that Tenn dies here because I trust AJ? Yep. Do I still wish they had maybe put Lilly here so that she could actually do her job as a villain? Sure. Does it upset me that AJ ends up shooting his best friend in order to save Louis? Totally. Does it annoy me that Minerva just won’t fucking die even though I shot her and the walkers keep nom noming her? Absolutely. 

That being said, I can’t pretend that Minerva’s death isn’t pretty great.... which I know will upset the Minnie crowd who always talk about how it’s bullshit she died here and she deserved a redemption arc... but lemme explain. 

Looking at the game itself, the text and story progression, Minerva was never going to get that. She was never set up as someone we were gonna “fix” or as someone who would have a change of heart and switch to our side. From the moment we meet her, she’s too far gone. The delta have their claws sunk deep within her, they brainwashed her, forced her to murder her own sister, and she has completely given up. She never expresses any desire to go back to the school. Nope, the delta is her home now. Her family. And it’s tragic. She and Sophie proof of what would happen to the Ericson crew if the delta go ahold of them-- “which twin will you be?” y’know? 

She fucks us over instead of actually helping us, we escape, the boat explodes, but Minerva doesn’t go down with the boat. Nope, she makes it to land and well... she fucking loses it. She sees her delta family get taken out by walkers and she goes nuts with her gun and gets half of her face chewed off by a walker.

So yeah..... she’s dead. Almost. They try to act like we’re supposed to believe that she’s really dead after she gets surrounded by walkers and throws the grenade at Clementine and all that but c’mon.... unless I see a body or a walker version, I don’t believe shit. 

Which brings me to the bridge.... there’s a lot of dread building up to Minerva’s final appearance, and you just hear her singing the damn song and bringing a bunch of walkers with her. Not to mention that she already looks dead. She looks like a walker who can talk, and not gonna lie, I like it. It’s freaky and sad and fucked up and adds so much to her character at this point. I mean, she’s here to kill Tenn so that they can all be a family again. She’s smiling and relieved that she’s dying and boy she just can’t wait to take Tenn with her and it’s not great.

She’s here to die and to take someone down with her, and she’s not leaving until she does. Hell, if she can take Clementine out, that’s just a bonus at this point. 

ALSO can’t forget that if AJ does shoot and kill Tenn, Minerva is still alive as she’s being eaten by walkers and she looks so damn happy as she reaches out and says, “Yes, come with me...” 

Like..... it’s so fucked, and I hate that I love it. From a storytelling standpoint, it’s a fitting death to conclude Minerva’s character and it impacts everyone there in more ways than one. 

3. Duck and incredible emotional impact

Oh, Duck... poor, poor Duck. 

This one has stuck with me and I hate it. I was never one of those players who hated Duck from the beginning. It’s interesting to go back and see how people reacted to him in the first couple episodes because a lot of them didn’t like him. They found Duck to be annoying, loud, stupid, and would even wonder “yeesh, when can I kill this kid?” 

Which is yikes but not gonna get into that right now. 

But from my understanding, Telltale got wind of this and knowing they were gonna kill him off, were like “Okay, y’all dumb, so here--” and they added in that little segment with Detective Duck where he helps Lee figure out what’s been going on with the stole meds. It’s a cute scene where we get to hang out with Duck and he proves that he’s not stupid, he’s just... y’know, a child. 

Then the motor inn gets attacked, shit goes down after they escape, and it’s revealed that Duck was bitten. 

Oh man, let me tell you about emotional impact both on the characters and the player because wow. 

Duck’s death is slow, drawn out...and since it’s early in the series, there’s a lot of denial, mostly from Kenny. They find the train and Kenny fixates on it because to him, if he gets it working and they can just get away, Duck can recover. Duck isn’t like the others, he’s just a little sick and everyone is making a big fuss about it. 

Then you have Katjaa, who starts out in that denial stage but she moves into acceptance a lot quicker than Kenny does and well.... that might be because she made up her mind about what she was going to do, which that is a whole other layer of fucking despair to this situation. 

They also do something that I like with Kenny by adding that depth of him believing he had something like this coming after what happened at Hershel’s farm. Y’know, when he grabbed Duck and took off, leaving Shawn to die? Yeah that. 

He’s been so adamant about protecting his family to the point where he doesn’t have anything for the rest of the group, aside from Lee if he helps kill Larry. He did what he could to keep his wife and child safe and in the end, it didn’t matter. Duck still got bit, and now everything is shit. 

Then when you thought it couldn’t hurt even more, you find Katjaa dead in the woods and you still have to take care of Duck, whether you have Lee shoot him or have Kenny do it, or even just leave him to turn. Either way.... Duck’s death is just one big ol’ despairing oof.

It’s really good, guys. The music, dialogue, scenery, the pain....They really nailed Duck’s death in such an emotional way and it doesn’t just end there. This sticks with Kenny all the way through S2 and changes him as a character. It impacted Clementine and Lee greatly because this kickstarted Chuck telling them that Clem would end up just like Duck if things didn’t change. 

S1 just... knew how to kill off its characters... well, for the most part. 

2. Marlon and the death that had to happen whether we like it or not

Sigh.... okay. 

So... Marlon. Lemme tell you some things about Marlon’s death. 

First, I hate it. Nothing new there. If you know anything about me, you know that I am vocal in my desire for the Marlon redemption arc, for the “Marlon lives” AU’s and the “Marlon lives longer but dies differently” AU’s. I like Marlon as a character, I find him to be a fascinating character study. Ray Chase’s performance as Marlon brings so much personality and I love it.  So naturally, I wanted more of him in TFS. 

Here’s the thing. I may want all of those things, I may take a lot of joy from discussing these ideas with you guys and coming up with different scenarios,  theories, AU’s about him, and I’ll always be the first one to be like “I hate that Marlon dies in ep1, I wish AJ hadn’t shot him! Woulda liked for him to stick around longer!” 

But with the story TFS is trying to tell, Marlon has to die. AJ has to shoot him. I don’t like it, you don’t like it, no one likes it.... but that’s just how it is. 

Marlon is presented to us as this chill and genuine guy trying to keep his group safe and together. He feels the pressure of being responsible for all the lives in this school and that’s a lot to put on a teen growing up in the apocalypse. 

Then we learn that hey, the twins didn’t die. No, last year they ran into Abel and Marlon made a deal with him where he traded the twins in order to save himself, Brody, and the rest of the school. He wanted to plan a rescue mission, but he was too scared, so he and Brody kept it to themselves. They made up a story about the twins dying and moved on, but that continued to weigh down on them. 

Then Abel comes back, Brody freaks out, tells Clementine the truth, and Marlon hits her so hard that it kills her. 

And it gets worse. 

You go through the whole confrontation with Marlon trying to cover his ass and blame Clementine for Brody’s murder, he’s waving AJ’s gun around and threatening to shoot Clem while everyone is gathered around watching. It’s raining, it’s super dramatic and tense and I love it. 

In the end, Marlon gives up and he just wants to leave. Let him become a bad memory, he’ll never come back, just let him go. 

Then AJ shoots him in the head unprompted. He just.... he just does it and then wonders why everyone is looking at him like he’s a murder baby. 

Marlon’s death is crucial, not just to kickstart the plot but also for AJ’s character arc. His death affects everyone in that school. It makes Clementine question herself and if she’s raising AJ right, it breaks Louis’ heart, it pisses off Mitch, it sets Violet off on her bullshit. Everyone is hurting and confused because they don’t know what to do. Marlon is dead and AJ, this tiny toddler, was the one who pulled the trigger. 

From the beginning, we’re told that AJ is always listening, watching, and what we do will affect him for better or worse.... and maybe you don’t think much when you tell him to always aim for them head, but when he says exactly what you taught him after murdering Marlon...? Yeah, you’re sitting there like “Well, fuck.” 

But if this didn’t happen, if AJ didn’t kill Marlon, then.... there’s not a lot left. Sure the raiders are still coming, but AJ no longer has to go through what he has to or realize how much he hurt everyone. He’s no longer on that path that made him such an interesting and layered character. 

Sure, you coulda made him shoot someone else, but the fact that it was Marlon is what made it impactful.

Ugh, it’s good and I hate it. I hate it so much. 

1. Lee and the death that broke all our hearts

.......Just-

-y’know?

What else is there to say?

Well, alright, I’ll explain. 

We play as Lee in S1, we go on this whole journey with him and develop him as a character, establish relationships, and care for Clementine. He’s a great character. I did a list on why he’s great, too, if you wanna check that out but all you really need to know is that we all loved Lee.

Lee’s got a lot of baggage, given that he was on his way to prison for murdering the dude who was sleeping with his wife. But then the apocalypse happened and he got a second chance to do some good... or I guess bad? if you do a scumbag Lee run? 

Anyway-- no matter what, he cares for Clementine and it’s nice to see them bond over the course of the season... so when shit hits the fan and Clementine gets kidnapped by the Stranger, we’re just as upset as Lee is.

Then Lee gets bit.... and we realize that even though he’s our playable protagonist, he was never safe either. He gets bit and I can still remember the feeling of like... a bowling ball dropping in my stomach and my heart hurting because no... no, no, not Lee. I basically became Kenny like “No, he’s different! Lee isn’t gonna die! Being bit doesn’t mean death!” and while that is technically true.... had to face it: Lee’s going to die by the end of the season. 

Ep5 of S1 is a whole journey... We’re dealing with trying to save Clementine while seeing Lee get worse and worse-- he’s passing out, he’s growing paler and slower and it’s hard to watch. You maybe get a little bit of hope if you decide to cut his arm off, but that’s just... it’s too late for that. 

Not only is he fighting this, but then you got Ben who gets impaled and Kenny “dies” putting him outta his misery and Lee’s powerless to do anything. So great, that sucks. 

But at least he’s got Christa and Omid.... until they get separated at the Marsh House and Lee’s gotta get through a herd of them by himself. 

This slow burn is so good. His condition gets progressively worse but he’s so determined to get to Clem that it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t have time to think about what is inevitably going to happen to him, even if the player does. 

And just.... the final scene... y’know, the actual death scene? 

It’s so good. It’s a beautiful, emotional punch in the face. Like, way to end your game like this... Lee is trapped her with Clementine and he can’t walk, he can’t get up no matter how much Clementine begs him to try, he just- he can’t. He knows it’s all over for him and so he has her handcuff him to this heater so that no matter what, he can’t hurt her and just.... their final moments together where Lee is minutes away from death but is struggling to tell her as much as he can and I’m crying.

Then of course, the final choice-- Do you shoot Lee, or do you leave him to turn?

Both ending hurt my soul, but they’re both great in different ways. Shooting him is so heartbreaking... seeing little Clem sobbing as she points the gun at him and closes her eyes, then it cuts to black as the shot rings out and you hear Lee’s final breath....

BUT THEN YOU HAVE THE LEAVE HIM ENDING WHICH-

Lee manages to tell her more when you choose not to shoot him, but just watching Clementine get to the door and her little “don’t go” before Lee closes his eyes and falls over limp... falls over dead, I just--

Ouch... I am applauding this through my ugly sobs. 

It’s the best death in the series. It has everything and then some- emotional impact, works to progress the story and characters, amazing dialogue and performances.... It still gets me to this day. 

---

Honorable Mentions

-Mark’s death technically happens off screen, but I mean, c’mon... Mark wasn’t the most compelling character, but everyone remembers what happened to him. Everyone remembers walker Mark. What happened to him showed us just how fucked the St Johns were and it’s excellent.  -Brody’s death is pretty good, too.  -Abel’s death is an interesting one. He’s a garbage can, but they managed to humanize him just a bit by the way he hands his soon-to-be demise.  -Badger when Conrad kills him. It’s super good.  -I’m looking over this list now and it’s kinda funny that not a single S2 death made it here... it’s almost like all the character death that happened there was because a quota needed to be filled and who cares about complex character development when you got Kenny and nothing really matters I guess... ugh. The best deaths would probably be Carver, and Kenny when you shoot him but they’re not good enough to be in a top 5 so.... good job.

---

So... that was fun. What do you guys think? Do you agree with my choices or nah? Do you have a favorite death I didn’t list that you thought was well executed? Let me know, I’m curious. 

Have any suggestions for future T5F’s? Feel free to send ‘em in! :D

---

Next week’s T5F

[sasa-gay-yo]

Don’t Let the Sun Catch You Cryin’ - Song Drabble Request

Request: Here

Summary: You were the only one who saw Levi cry at night. You were the only one who could soothe him back to sleep after a nightmare. You were the only one for him. 

Timeline: Season 3

Warnings: death, mentions of attempted suicide

Art Credits: AoT (I think?)

Don’t let the sun catch you cryin’

The night’s the time for all your tears

Levi shot up again in bed, a sweat all over his body and the freshly washed sheets. The body stirred next to him and it took him a few seconds to realize that he was in bed with you, and not out in the field with Isabel’s head rolling towards him. Still, he couldn’t shake the pain the vivid nightmare had brought him. The pain of losing his best friends. The heart wrenching, disgusting pain of when he saw that Isabel’s head had turned into yours.

“Levi,” you spoke up to him, reaching a hand to cradle his face. Fresh tears made trails down to his jawline and you wiped them away, “Did you have a nightmare again, love?”

Your heart may be broken tonight

But tomorrow in the morning light

“It’s alright, love. Come here.” You held your arms out to him and he paused for a bit, looking down at your figure. You were there, in your shared bed, outside Trost, and not inside a titan’s mouth. His heart clenched thinking about what his mind had played before him. The titans were a wall away, but he still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was coming. Something that would break him. Even when he laid in your arms, his soul felt restless. You noticed, yet you couldn’t do anything but shush his tears before the sun rose and he had to face everyone.

Don’t let the sun catch you cryin’

The night-time shadows disappear

And with them go all your tears

He awoke when you did, the sun shining from the broken window above the bed. The day had come and the tears from last night were dried up. As he walked to the mess hall, he smelled the breakfast that you were probably making for the early risers. Eggs. Before the others woke up, he snuck in the kitchen, behind you, to hug you, his head resting in the crook of your neck. He took in your scent, trying to stick it in his memory. Something didn’t feel right about the day ahead, but he calmed himself with you.

For the morning will bring joy

For every girl and boy

Horseface was the first one in, interrupting his moment with you, but his heart still beat when he saw your smile. Of course it was him. The one who was in love with you from the first training session you led for the new cadets. Levi secretly found Jean’s pining after you very annoying, but at least he had you in his bed every night, reassuring him that it was only Levi for you. 

“I made breakfast. Are the other boys up? I’m sure Mikasa will wake the girl’s quarters. We’re running low on food for everyone and the chef’s are out getting some more supplies.”

“I think Connie’s going to need like, twenty more minutes. He went to bed late after he drank with some others.” You tsk-ed to Jean, mirroring the habit you’d gained from Levi, and dished out a plate and cup to Jean before making you and Levi a plate. He didn’t take his eyes off of you as you ate, talking to Jean about the plans for today’s maneuver. Your hair was messy, per usual, and you still spoke with your mouth full, but it was endearing to him, cute even. That was the hair he ran his hand through, trying to ground himself in reality last night. Your hands, the ones using a fork to break the egg’s yolk, rubbed his back, and made sure the tears were all off his face when the sun started to rise over the horizon.

So don’t let the sun catch you cryin’

 -

We know that cryin’s not a bad thing

But stop your cryin’ when the birds sing

He couldn’t find you. There was a specific rendezvous point in the meat-packing district, and you hadn’t shown up. Levi felt the tears rise to his throat as he yelled at the others for leaving you. Where had Jean lost you? Was it when him and Armin went to save the cart? Was it before then? Jean tried to explain to Levi that you had told the two to get to the cart while you fought Kenny’s soldiers on their left. You would cover for the two kids who didn’t know how to kill humans. You’d kill for them. They were yours to take care of.

He didn’t know what to do, and he realized this is what his nightmares were warning him about. The panic set in, and you weren’t there to soothe him. He was going to go hysteric if he didn’t have your hands on his face in the next five minutes. He needed to find you before they’d rush to Reeve’s to save Eren and Historia. He couldn’t do this without you at his side. He could face Kenny and his past without the only other person who knew. He swore out loud before jumping out a window to survey Trost. He was thankful someone held back the others, as the tears started leaking out of his eyes.

No. No. No. You can’t cry now. You weren’t there. He can’t cry when you’re not with him. Tonight, he would, when you’d finally found Eren and Historia and you could get some well-deserved rest in a newly reformed government. He’d tell you about the nightmares he had, and you would kiss his forehead, calming him down with your slow heartbeat pressed against his ear.

It seemed that his world transformed into that nightmare when he saw your body thrown in an alley way, dried blood coming from your forehead and splattered on the cobblestone ground. In the shade of the building, he picked your body up, not being able to stop the tears now. The only thing that kept him from breaking was your slow, shallow breaths. They were the same speed as when you would try to calm his panic attacks.

It may be hard to discover

That you’ve been left for another

“I’m sorry, Captain, but I can’t say if or when she will wake up. Her brain was heavily damaged, and she’s lost a lot of blood. While you were off in Orvuld, they did transfusions and mercury purging, but we can’t do anything other than that. We have to just sit and wait.” He wanted to punch the doctor. He wanted to kick the window out. Per Historia’s request, he’d moved you to a hospital in Mitras to gain the best medical attention he could, but they couldn’t do anything for you. You were a few minutes walk away from where she was housing the other Scouts, but soon Levi would be drawn into various meetings with the new queen, and he wouldn’t be able to be by your side. He wouldn’t be able to see you wake up.

During the nights, he cried, but this time no one was there to wipe his tears. In the daytime when the Scouts visited you, he remained in the corner, dark circles growing more and more prominent, and showing no emotion. He talked to Erwin with no fervor when he announced the news that you were carrying his child, and that he’d like to keep it if the Commander allowed. Erwin, seeing how horrible and broken Levi looked, permitted it, yet felt a deep cut in his heart when he heard Levi talk about the future like you would be back in it. The doctor hadn’t given a good prognosis, and if the child was to be born, they would have to cut it out. How would a woman who was unconscious be able to go through that without dying? Levi wouldn’t even entertain the idea, but Erwin and Hange prepared behind the scenes if the worst did, in fact, occur. 

He cried every night it seemed, and he didn’t care if those outside heard him. He was losing you. Losing his everything. There was no one to calm him down anymore. He could feel the despair consume him more than any other death he’d witnessed. Had there ever been happiness in his life before this? He wouldn’t know. It was something so far away from him now. You weren’t there to see the thing growing inside of you, and did you even know about the child before sacrificing yourself for the boys? It made him terrified, the idea of raising something without you, but it made him feel even worse if you didn’t know about it before you’d left him. This was something you’d wanted so bad. At night, when you were holding him to your chest, you would talk about the future like you were guaranteed one. You’d claim it. Someday, you and Levi would live in a cabin, children running around on a farm raising chickens and horses, and no titans in sight. Someday, you could wake up together and not have to go off and fight. Levi was slowly losing hope of that someday when he’d wake up from exhaustion-induced sleep to see your cold, unmoving body taking shallower and shallower breaths. 

Levi cried the day he had to leave to reclaim Wall Maria, hoping that you would forgive him for leaving your side. He begged for you to wake up, hoping to see you at his side again one day. He begged and begged. He cried and cried. He hoped you’d hear his tears, sit up, call him love, and wipe them off his face like you always did. You never did.

But don’t forget that love’s a game

And it can always come again

“Daddy, Jean-ey says that I look like my-” The little girl ran up to him with a bucket of water. Levi took the bucket from her grasp and glared at the back of horseface’s head. Even if Jean was your favorite Scout, he had no authority to tell his daughter these things. Every day, Jean would slip in something about you which would make his daughter light up. Jean was becoming your daughter’s favorite too, besides Armin, and he couldn’t handle it. He couldn’t handle how you were repeating yourself inside this little girl. His heart still broke whenever you were mentioned, the drawing in his pocket carving a square into his chest.  

“-You do, love,” he deadpanned while cutting her off and taking a drink. He set the little girl up on the makeshift train, hoping that someone other than Jean or Armin would come and watch over her as Levi continued his work on the railroad. He turned to work again but caught his daughter out of the corner of his eye, messy hair, talking to Armin with a mouthful of water; it was almost too much for him to deal with. Not today. Not on the day he’d lost you forever. The day he made the choice you would have made. A child over yourself, just like when it was the boys over your life. He’d lost you while holding the newborn in his arms. He cried for a whole day, not caring if the sun illuminated his tears.

He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the tears to go back down. He would never cry in front of his daughter now, not after the months of lulling her to sleep, his cries louder than her newborn ones. It took two years to get over the fact that he was holding your daughter by himself. Two years until he got more than three hours of sleep a night. Two years to come to the fact that he had to stay alive for his daughter and he couldn’t leave to go chase you past the horizion.

He tired once to end it all, a few days after you’d died from the c-section, but just as he was about to, his daughter’s cries rang louder than they’d ever had. It was you, he knew it was. You were telling him to stop from somewhere beyond this world. He had to listen. He always listened to you.

That night, his daughter came to him, bypassing Armin who usually soothed her nightmares. He didn’t know why she’d come to him in his office, but now she was laying on his lap, drool running down her face as he hummed her to sleep. You liked it when he hummed to you, and your daughter was the same. Perhaps he’d found a way to live because he started to see so much of you in his little black-haired demon. No, she was you. Mannerisms, braveness, kindness, sass; all of it was you. That’s why he found tears falling again as he stroked her little head, remembering when you would fall asleep like this while he was busy with paperwork. During those times, he regretted not looking down to admire you like he was your daughter. 

“I wish you were here, (Y/F/N). Then we all could be together.” He let out one quiet sob, not to wake up the sleeping child in his lap. He glanced out the window, seeing the sun slowly rise in the distant horizon. Soon, he’d have to leave his daughter with your mother, going off to fight for her safety in a foreign land. That thought was also overwhelming, but he couldn’t think about things like that right now. The sun was coming up, and it was time to put on the façade again.

Oh don’t let the sun catch you cryin’

Don’t let the sun catch you cryin’, oh no

[spooky-luvur]

So I feel like these characters have never been in a fic before- Can you do something with Arthur and his male partner during the scene at the Aberdeen pig farm (the weird asf incest couple) and Arthur getting really over protective

Sorry if this is super late anon I didn’t get the notification :(

I only just recently played that mission and the whole time I was just as stiff and uncomfortable as Arthur was I genuinely thought they were cannibals and we’re gonna eat me. Well, eat Arthur.

Glad I got to blow their heads off with a shotgun

Also fun fact! I’m writing this on a plane

-

“Arthur, you sure this tip is good?”

“Well, I did get it from a feller who just got out of jail.”

You shoot him a look.

“I ain’t sayin nothing, but relax. Farmers usually got lots o’ money anyway. If they ain’t good, shoot ‘em and run.”

“If you say so..”

-

Probably the last thing you expected to see from the house you were gonna rob was a very fat man in nothing but overalls reclining on the front porch. You and Arthur stop in your tracks, glancing at each other. Should you go back? And leave all the money behind?

Before you can decide what to do, the fat man notices the both of you awkwardly standing there.

“Well hey there friends!”

You swallow, moving your hand slightly to brush your wrist against the handle of your gun.

“Don’t be shy, partners! No such thing as strangers here!” His eyes trail over both of you, staying on you for a little longer than necessary. He grins.

“Yeah, you two look like you need to take a load off...”

The door suddenly opens, drawing yours and Arthur’s attention. A thin yet busty woman steps into the porch, a light smile on her pale face.

“Well...” she drawls, “ain’t this a rare treat?” She goes to stand beside the man, placing a hand on his chest. So it was a couple. “Why did you tell me we had guests comin’? I’da fixed myself up nice...”

Couple of lunatics.

“Aw, now, you know you look perfect princess...” fatty laughs.

“Erm, we ain’t no guests, Miss,” Arthur glances at you. “Just passin’ through.”

The man waves his hand. “Oh, nonsense, come on in, rest a while. We got food on the stove, and a bottle of the good stuff we been savin.”

“It’s decided then,” the woman steps back into the house. “I’m gonna go freshen up...” her voice is light, seductive as she winks at you.

Arthur’s jaw tightens. “We appreciate the offer but we best be on our way.”

“Oh, come on now!” Spreading his arms wide, he grins at Arthur. “Are you gonna turn down a hot meal and good company? Ha! I’ll go open that bottle!”

Arthur sighs heavily. “I don’t like this.”

You place a hand on his arm, frowning. “Me neither. But think about the money, Arthur. We could really use it. And like you said, thing go south, we hightail outta there.”

He shakes his head, thinking it over. Eventually, he nods.

“Okay.”

“Hey there they are!”

Fat Man (sorry if that’s offensive idk what else to call him other than man and besides- outlaws were mean) is already sitting at the rickety-looking table. “Come on in! Come on!” He gestures for you to sit.

Arthur makes you sit in the seat further away, giving you a look once you open your mouth to question him.

“I hope she ain’t preppin’ for hours up there or we’ll never eat!” He turns his attention to you, a weird smile on his face.

“Hey, tiny, go check on her, will ya?”

You begin to stand, but Arthur’s firm hand on your shoulder stops you.

“No...I’ll do it. He can stay here.”

Fat Man shrugs. “Fine by me! I just wanna eat!”

Yeah, you could tell.

After a few moments Arthur and the woman come back down, an odd look on Arthur’s face. You try questioning him, but he quickly shakes his head, taking a seat while she goes to the stove.

“Well ain’t this just about perfect!” Fatty says in a weird voice. “Just one of them moments you wish could last forever.”

“Like we said, we can’t stay long,” you give him a fake smile.

“Just look at us,” the man waves a hand at you and Arthur. “Like a couple of old friends.” He laughs as the woman sets plates down on the table. “It’s a short life, but a merry one.”

You look up from the food to see the woman looking at you with dark eyes. She’s bent over in such a way you could tell she’s purposely trying to show you as much cleavage as possible. Her husband doesn’t even seem to notice, or if he did, he doesn’t care. She giggles as you quickly avert your eyes. Right after, there’s a strong hand on your thigh, gripping tightly just above your knee. You glance over at Arthur, but he’s looking at the man.

“All the fixens. I hope you boys left some room in your trousers.” She looks between you and Arthur, a smirk on her face. “I can tell there ain’t much.”

Fatty inhales deeply and moans, opening his eyes to look at his wife. “That smells delicious.” He takes her hand. “Food don’t smell too bad neither.” They both laugh as he pulls her to sit on his lap.

“Oh, stop it, you!”

The continue to laugh, turning their attention to Arthur and you who’d been trying the food.

“How do you like it?” The woman asks.

Arthur nods. “Mm, it’s good. Different.”

The woman goes to get another chair from the side of the room as Fatty eats the food, moaning.

“That meat is so tender...” he glances at you, an unreadable look in his eyes.

You pause from eating another piece. “Yes, it’s uhm, good...”

“And you know what? This place it used to be a pig farm- when we was-“ he picks at his teeth. “when we was kids?”

Wha- oh...oh dear...oh dear...

It hits you before it hits Arthur. You place down your fork slowly, loosing your appetite.

He continues. “Before we lost our Ma and Pa...horrible business.”

The woman’s mouth tightens into a thin line as she shakes her head. “Horrible.”

“But we still got each other ain’t that right honey pie?”

That’s when it hits Arthur.

“And we still know how to have a hog killin’ time.” (someone told me what she said ty)

You meet his eyes. He glances at the door before glancing back at you. You shrug, shoulders stiff.

“Here, here, that’s for you...”

They both feed each other food with their forks, eyes locked in a intimate moment, both moaning once they taste the others food. They don’t seem to remember you and Arthur were there until they slowly turned their heads. An awkward moment of silence passes before the woman puts down her forks abruptly.

“Where are my manners? Drinks!”

“Yeah, I could defiantly use a drink.” Arthur shakes just head, making you quietly snort.

“And you, sugar?” The woman smiles at you, holding a bottle.

“Yeah.” You really needed to forget all this in the morning.

She laughs, pouring you and Arthur each a small glass.

Arthur downs his in one gulp, and he immediately recoils at the taste. He clears his throat, looking at you.

‘Fucking strong’ are what his eyes tell you.

You down yours too, coughing. It burns your trait and stings your eyes. It’s strong that’s for damn sure. Stronger than any whiskey you’ve ever had. Doesn’t taste like anything you’ve ever had neither. It leaves an unpleasant feeling in your mouth and your gut.

“Ha! That stuff’ll put hair on your chest!”

“Oh, I doubt the big one needs that,” the woman rounds the table with the bottle, passing Arthur as she says that. But she stops at you, putting a hand on your shoulder and slowly sliding it down your partly open shirt and across your chest. You tense, holding your breath.

Oh, you can feel Arthur’s anger.

“But this one here needs some more. Whadda ya say, hun? Let’s loosen the both of you up some more.” She removes your hand, much to yours and Arthur’s relief, and goes back around the table to sit on her *brothers* lap.

Neither of you say anything, only looking at each other. You can tell Arthur doesn’t want to stay.

But the money is the main thing on your mind at the moment.

You just barely nod your head, and Arthur understands. He clenches his jaw, and begrudgingly takes another shot of the strange alcohol. The siblings laugh gleefully, looking at you for your turn.

You’re way lighter on alcohol than Arthur. Only your second shot and your head is already swirling.

The three are talking, laughing, but you don’t hear anything. You sway in your seat, pain flowing throughout your entire body. The last thing you feel is someone picking you up before everything goes black.

-

“Woo wee, we done and got ourselves a real nice one here!”

“We sure did!”

Ugh, what in the hell did you drink?

Your bleary eyes blink open. You’re standing, but your eyes are tied above your head and around a high railing of the stairs. You’re on your feet but barley. For a moment nothing is clear before you focus on the large figure of the Fat Man and his sister not two feet away from you.

“Oh, you sons of bitches,” you groan, hanging your head. Just listen to Arthur next time you moron.

They both laugh.

“Mama would be real proud of us wouldn’t she sugar?”

“She sure would honeybun!”

The woman turns back to you, getting on her knees. You struggle against the bonds, pushing your self as far away from the crazy woman as possible.

“Oh, don’t be shy, sugar, I only wanna taste you!” She giggles and puts one hand on your crotch and the other on your hip.

“You crazy bastards! Where’s Arthur!”

“Oh he won’t be back for a while, now hold still darlin’-“

Right as she reaches to unbuckle your belt, the front door flies open and a gun immediately goes off. The woman gasps in horror, rising to her feet. The large body of her brother crumples to the ground.

”NO!!!”

She screams, rushing at- thank the heavens- Arthur. Before she can reach him another shot goes off and she crumples right on top of Fatty.

You take a deep breath, head rolling back in relief.

“(M/n)? (M/n)!”

Arthur catches you once he cuts your bonds, holding you to his chest in a crushing grip.

“Goddamn, you alright?! The hell did they do to you?!”

“Nothin’ thanks to you.” You give him a long kiss, holding his face in your hands. He pulls away to put his forehead against yours and you can see the unshed tears in his eyes.

“Thought I damn near lost you...”

“It’s okay, Arthur. I’m alive, and they aren’t. Now, where is that money?”

——

[smarchit]

Poetry for an Heiress, Chapter 7

Word Count: 5k

Summary: When a duchess and her children are abandoned far from home, they must rely on the kindness of one stranger to guide them home.

Warnings: None! (for this chapter

HERE YALL GO. I'm sorry this chapter was late getting out. November is Trauma Center(TM) month for me and my brain meats have a hard time keeping up. I love y’all.

"Princess, would you care to accompany me into town?" Ezra asked softly one morning. He set the book he was reading down on the table and looked at you with a fond smile. 

"Of course. We just went the other day, did you forget something?" you asked, setting your tea cup down on the table. A few months ago, you never would have even considered leaving the children here alone. Now, it felt different. You felt more comfortable leaving them alone for a while. "I'm sure the children will be okay for an hour or so, won't they?"

"I guarantee it," he hummed. "I just wanted to get you a few things for... for when you leave."

You couldn't help but notice the hesitation in his voice as he mentioned your imminent departure. He had been toeing around the entire thing for the past few days and quite frankly, you had been grateful. It pained you to think that you might never see him again when you left. 

You felt that by not bringing up the fact that there was a perfectly good vessel he had commissioned for you ready to go, maybe you could stay just a little bit longer. The children certainly wouldn't mind. You had mentioned it off handedly to them one afternoon and it broke your heart when they assumed Ezra would be coming along.

You stood up from the table and dusted off your dress. Your clothes had never seen this much wear and they definitely were showing it since your arrival. They fit the environment now, worn-in, friendly, comfortable. Your skin itched at the mere thought of going back to scratchy gowns and beaded chemises.

As much as you detested the idea of going back, it felt a necessary evil, unfortunately. Your grandmother was likely to step down from the throne soon, and your mother would take her place. You would be next. Then Aiden. It was a never ending cycle and one you grew to loathe with every passing minute here. The thought of you remaining here with Ezra forever with the children felt like a fantasy story.

Soon there would be no long nights where you would make up stories for the children together. No meals cooked together. No walks to the market.

"I would be happy to go with you," you said with a smile. You might as well take advantage of what little time you had left together. 

You looked at the children as they played in the yard. The boys had grown like weeds in the warm days of Muir. Their trousers were too short now, their shirts just a bit too small. Marie, your little bug, her hair had gotten longer and lighter in the sun. 

"We're going into town for a minute," Ezra explained as he eyed the children up and down. "Now, I don't want to come home to find my barn and field razed to the ground. And your mother and I want you all in one piece. Understood?"

"Yes, Mr. Ezra," the children mumbled as they glanced toward you. You only raised your brow in agreement with Ezra.

"Mama!" Marie called as she bounced excitedly in front of you. "Are you and Mr. Ezra going a-courting?"

You blushed and Ezra chuckled beside you. "Are you watching those old princess pictures again, little bird?" Ezra asked, kneeling down in front of her. He gently ruffled her curls and smiled. "Your mama deserves a prince to court her! Not an old scoundrel like me!"

You tried not to hear the sadness in his voice. It seemed he was just as hesitant about you leaving as you were. "We'll be back soon. No wild horseplay, children!"

You took Ezra's arm and walked with him to the back gate towards town. His arm was warm and reassuring against you, bracing you for what Aiden murmured as you walked away.

"I guess we aren't gonna have a father after all, huh?" he whispered to his brother and sister.

"We were so close this time," Henry mumbled.

You wiped your eyes as Ezra unlatched the gate and helped you out over the little brook. Neither of you looked at one another until you hit the main road entering town.

"Ezra, I'm sorry--" you started as you reached the town limits, wanting to apologize for the children's behavior.

He shook his head and closed his eyes. "It's alright, Princess. I understand the children's disappointment. I hope that when you arrive safely back at your palace, you will find someone who truly deserves you."

You stared at Ezra in silent shock, tears flowing down your cheeks. Did he not know how you felt about him? How much you care for him? "Please, Ezra. Don't say that."

He shook his head. "I only want what is best for you, Princess. And the children."

You started to reply, but were cut off by someone calling for Ezra. The man from a few days ago, Charlie, was jogging towards you both, his hand waving to get your attention. 

"Ez, hey," Charlie panted as he approached. He turned to you and bowed lowly to greet you. "Highness. Ez, I finally got the fuel siphoned over from the Veskar."

You turned your head so neither man would see your tears. It seemed as though your dreams of staying here were just that. Dreams. 

"Well now, that's just fantastic news," Ezra exclaimed, clapping Charlie on the shoulder. "I'll stop over to discuss specifics later, as we're on a supply run at the moment."

Charlie nodded and bowed to you again. "I look forward to seeing you again, Princess," he said with a smile as he took your hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it.

"Alright, thank you," Ezra said firmly as he led you away from Charlie. He glared at the other man as you walked down the street together.

You quickly wiped your tears away and smiled at the small glimpse of jealousy that shone through. Even if you two weren't able to be together, he was still fiercely protective of you. 

"Back to the general store," he said, holding the door open for you. He stepped in behind you and shut the door firmly. 

The store was fairly busy this time of day. By the looks of it, there were a few harvesters and farm hands scouring the shelves for supplies. A rather terrifying looking man was positioned on a stack of crates in the back of the store, keeping an eagle eye out for shoplifters. 

"Morning, Ezra!" Marta called brightly from behind the counter. She finished totalling up a rather grizzled looking mercenary's order and held out her hand as he counted out the credits. 

Ezra nodded in her direction and kept a firm hand on your back as he guided you towards boxes of canned and packaged goods. He picked up a few items and handed them to you to put into the backpack he'd brought. 

After he'd picked a few, he turned and nodded towards the counter, gesturing for you to head to Marta.

She smiled at you as you handed her the backpack fill of goods. She began to count and total the purchases, humming softly as she worked.

Ezra glanced over his shoulder and patted your arm. "I'll bring right back, Princess. Just hang on one second." He disappeared from your side and pushed his way through the other occupants.

"Are you headed back home?" Marta asked as she tallied your order. She frowned when she saw how unhappy you looked in response. "You don't have to go, you know. I've never seen Ezra so damn happy as when he's with you and those kids. If you stayed, he'd would be over the moon. The boy needs a family."

You brushed a tear away and sighed. Every sign was pointing you to stay with him, yet you knew you just couldn't. 

"I--"

"Here we go, Marta, ring that up too, would you kindly?" Ezra asked, plopping down an extra fuel can. He glanced between Marta's frown and your solemn expression and then sighed. "Sorry, Mar. Excuse us for just a minute." He pulled you over to the side and brushed your tears away. "Princess, what's wrong? Did one of those prospectors say something?"

You shook your head and let out a sob. "No, it's not that-- you've just been so kind and helpful and I still haven't found a way to repay you!"

Ezra shook his head and tugged you against his chest. "Princess, no, it's alright. Don't cry. Come on, let me pay and I'll take you home. Why don't you wait outside for me? You can get some air."

You nodded and rushed out, not wanting the mercenaries and prospectors to see you. As you stepped outside, you looked up to the pale sky above. Since your arrival, a large purple planet had entered orbit, rising along the eastern horizon. You remembered the boys asking about it, and the story Ezra had told about how the purple planet, Doranastrus, chased after the morning star. They were constantly just out of one another's gravitational pull. Ezra had watched you the entire time he told the story. That had been a few months ago now, but you hadn't forgotten the story. 

"I'm a fool," you whispered to yourself.

An old woman wandered down the street and stopped in front of you. She regarded you with a nod and looked you up and down. "Is your husband the one with the two goats? He rents them to eat grasses?"

The bell on the shop door tinkled merrily behind you before you could answer and Ezra stepped out. He shut the door behind him and came down the few stairs to stand beside you. "What's this about a husband and goats?"

"Are you this woman's husband?"

"Now, I wouldn't exactly call myself her husband," Ezra chuckled, shouldering his backpack. He cleared his throat and looked at the woman. "What did you need?"

"You're the one with them goats on the edge of town?"

"I am indeed the man with the goats. How can I be of service?"

"Need them for a few days to clear a patch of land," she responded. 

Ezra nodded. "Absolutely. Swing by the farm sometime tomorrow and pick them up. You have Amir's old plot right?"

She nodded. "I do. I'm June, my husband is Rhys. I'll send him over tomorrow after lunch."

"Perfect," he said with a smile. "I look forward to it. I'll let the girls know they'll be shipping off. Thank you, June." 

Ezra placed his hand on your back and led you down the street back the way you'd come earlier. He adjusted the backpack and then offered his arm to you once again. 

"The atmosphere seems like it'll be good for a takeoff in a few days," he said softly. "I've given it much thought, Princess. It has kept me awake at night, long into the dawn's early hours. But I've made my decision."

"And what decision might that be?" you asked, biting back the tears that stung your eyes. 

"I," he said, his voice catching. "I would like to escort you home. Personally. I would feel much better seeing you safe in your fancy garden rather than sending you off into the darkness of space alone."

You looked over, waiting for him to say something else. He wanted to see you home instead of just waving you off from his front door? The thought comforted you. It felt like he truly cared for your emotions, though forcing him to travel back to Muir alone felt wrong.

"It's a long trip, Ezra," you said softly. "I couldn't ask for you to do that for us, not after all you've done already."

He shook his head. "For my own sake and peace of mind, Princess, I insist. Let me do you and your children this one final courtesy. Besides, Central isn't too far off. I could drop in on Cee, keep her company for a few days."

It seemed as though he'd made up his mind. Besides, the children might enjoy the trip home a little more if Ezra came along. 

In the back of your mind, you still heard their remark on how they almost had a father. It broke your heart to be unable to give them what they wanted. They'd never asked for anything before like they had done with this.

"Of course, Ezra," you said softly. "Thank you. Truly. Thank you for everything."

You sat in the garden, watching the children play. And every day that passed, you almost began to dread leaving. Ezra had welcomed you into his home the very first moment he saw the three of you in the cantina. He saved your life and poured his heart out to you. He had begun to feel like home.

You picked a rather vibrant pink day bloom as it bowed under its own weight beside you. It smelled absolutely lovely and you smiled as you ran your fingers over the petals. You opened the poetry book to the one Ezra had recited to you - Sonnet 116, written over seven hundred years ago by a man named Shakespeare. It seemed a fitting home for the flower, tucked safely between its pages.

"Princess," Ezra called as he approached you from behind. There was an urgency in his voice that you only remember hearing when you'd fallen into the river. Something was bothering him. He was covered in dirt and sweat from his morning chores, but you were sure he'd never looked better. "A word, if you would be so kind? I won't take up too much of your time, I know you have to start getting ready to depart soon."

"Is something the matter?" you asked softly. Ever since Ezra had poured his heart out to you, it almost felt like he had pulled away. It made you feel like you'd done some wrong. Maybe you had, by not expressing just how deeply you cared for him. You wanted to tell him at least a dozen times before lunch every day how much you loved him. You always hoped he knew that.

Ezra shook his head and wiped the sweat off his forehead. "No, Princess, everything is just fine. I'm just doing an awful lot of thinking, that's all. It both strains and enriches the mind."

"And what are you thinking so hard about?" you asked, setting the book in your lap. You turned, urging him to continue. 

Ezra took a deep breath and put his hand on his hip. He looked towards the sky as if he were gaining the strength for what he was about to tell you.

"Would you ever consider staying?" he asked, looking down at you. "Here. With me? You and your children?"

When you did not respond, he continued. 

"I must confess to you, Princess, that my intentions are purely selfish and I do not wish to see you go. I have gone against every instinct I have that is telling me to never let you leave. I know this planet is no place for you, but I cannot stand the thought of never seeing you again. I know that you must return home, and I wish to see to it personally that you are safe, even if it means breaking my own heart in the process."

You stared up at him, mouth agape in shock. Ezra had essentially confessed his love for you in the most beautiful way possible. You quickly scrambled to your feet, wanting nothing more than to pull him close and never let go. But you knew that you couldn't. You needed to go home, if for nothing else than to fulfill the duties bestowed upon you before you were even born.

"Oh, Ezra," you whispered, your voice thick with tears. "I want to. It would make me so happy, but I just-- I can't do it. My mother, my grandmother. They would be so upset if I never came home."

He cupped your cheek in his hand and smiled sadly. He brushed his thumb along your cheekbone and pressed his forehead against yours.

"This really is no place for your family anyway," he said softly. "And you deserve better than an old prospector like myself. Someday, I think, somewhere in time, we will meet again. Come on, I'll clean myself up and load your things into the ship. Gather your flock, Princess. One last time."

You started to protest but he shook his head. He pressed a kiss to your cheek and smiled. "It'll be alright. Don't worry. Better to do this now than keep prolonging our goodbyes."

A few hours later, you were strapping the children into flight seats on the modified pod that Charlie had built. It seemed surreal. When you first left home, you were frantically buckling their seat belts, looking over your shoulder, waiting for someone to come through the door and kill you. This time though, instead of looking scared, your children looked sad.

You didn't want to show the children you were sad too. It didn't feel right, leaving the farm. But you knew what you had to do. You had to go back to your mother and grandmother. 

"Mama?" Marie mumbled sadly. "Are we going home for real?" She wiped her nose on the back of her hand and held tightly to her seat belt. When you nodded, she began to cry softly. 

"Can we come back someday?" Henry asked. 

"Can we, mama?" Aiden chirped. "Please?"

"I'm sure we will," you soothed, pressing kisses to each of their foreheads.

You made sure everything was secure in the bins overhead and underfoot before you double checked the flight book. Ezra had already assured you many times he'd be there to ensure a safe flight and landing, but you couldn't shake the nervous feeling in your belly that something was going to go wrong.

Ezra climbed aboard just as you were securing the final bin below your seat, calling his greetings to Juanita and Marta. They had promised to watch the animals while Ezra was away and he couldn't pass up the offer. 

"Are you ready?" he asked, holding his hand out to you. He helped you to your seat and smiled sadly. "I'll make sure you are safe, Princess, don't worry."

You nodded and strapped yourself in as Ezra slid into the pilot's chair. He glanced around at the children and then at you before flipping the switches to power the ship on. 

You reached over to hold Marie's hand as the ship rumbled to life. She hugged her stuffed dog to her chest and closed her eyes. A little whine squeaked out when you felt the ship lift off the ground and you squeezed her hand to comfort her.

Aiden and Henry held each other's hands and Aiden reached for your free hand. They all seemed so small strapped into the flight seats. So small, yet they'd grown so much since you had arrived on Muir. You wondered what your grandmother and mother would say about them. And about how you changed as well. 

You certainly had more muscle than when you first showed up, scared and stumbling into the Libertalia. You had helped out on the little farm, lifting and raking where Ezra needed assistance. The weight you still carried from having your children still sat at your hips, though your dresses were now looser and more ill-fitting. Perhaps the most notable change, to yourself anyway, was your smile. You smiled far more often than you used to. It felt good. And it was all thanks to Ezra.

You glanced over at him as he piloted the ship out into the vast emptiness of space. He looked back at you in the little mirror that had been taped to the comm piece and smiled sadly. 

If you were being completely honest with yourself, you were apprehensive about going back to the palace. Something didn't feel right about the situation with Edgar and you hoped to talk to your mother immediately to alert her to what had happened. With any luck, you would be able to find a guard to fetch them as soon as you arrived.

Nearly a full cycle later, you woke from a twilight sleep as the ship rumbled and shook violently. The boys were already awake and watching Ezra with rapt attention. Marie was the only one still asleep now, her little head tucked against her chest, stuffed dog held loosely in one hand.

"Hang on, boys," Ezra urged as he flipped a few switches. The shaking stopped, but the rumbling was still enough to cause one of the overhead bins to bang open and send the contents tumbling. 

You let out a cry and braced yourself against the seat beside you as the whole ship lurched forward. Marie woke with a terrified wail, her head whipping around with the movement of the ship. 

"That was the reentry!" Ezra called back over his shoulder. "Just gotta set her down easy. Just a little more."

The entire ship bounced several times as it landed hard. It rolled over twice and finally came to rest with a deafening groan, leaving you all angled uncomfortably in your seats. The floor was slanted just enough that it would make it difficult to get out of your seats. 

Ezra unbuckled himself and slid out of the chair onto the floor. He turned to face you with a small smile. "Home at last."

You looked away, not wanting to look him in the eye. It would be too painful to say goodbye and you just wish he would leave you to find your own way back.

Ezra did his best to corral your children out of the tiny pod before he ducked back in to gather your few belongings. He had made sure you were safely out before he climbed down and jumped to the grass below.

"What do we say, children?" you asked, combing your fingers through Henry's shaggy locks. 

"Thank you, Mr. Ezra," they mumbled sadly, looking down at the ground. Aiden wiped his nose on the back of his hand and then stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"Now cheer up," Ezra hummed as he took out a map. "I'm sure you'll have a big celebration for your return. You'll have the best meal you've had in months."

"Mama, do you think they'll know how to make those yummy soups we made a while ago?" Henry asked you.

"I'm sure they will, my darling," you replied with a smile. "Come along. Take your sister's hand."

Ezra hummed a short tune as he guided you all through the field, leaving the destroyed pod behind. He slung your bag over his shoulder and glanced back down at the map.

"How long do we still have to walk?" Aiden asked as he jogged ahead to keep up with Ezra. 

You sighed softly and looked around as Ezra explained to your son how to read the map. The planet had changed with the seasons since you'd been gone. It was almost springtime now. The last of the snow had finally melted away and new flowers were starting under the brown grasses at your feet. The air was still crisp but growing warmer, and for now, it still nipped at your cheeks and nose as you made your way home.

The walk to town was quiet, save for your children playing and running circles around you and Ezra. The two of you spoke quietly to one another, saying only your thanks and goodbyes. You knew how much he cared for you, and he knew how much you cared for him. You would never forget him, and it saddened you to leave him like this. Perhaps in another life, you could be with him.

It was dark by the time you reached the outskirts of town, and the moon was high in the clear, cloudless sky. The children, you found, were lagging behind and stumbling over their own feet as they grew more and more tired. 

Ezra bent to pick Marie up and she almost immediately fell asleep in his arms. He smiled fondly at her and then looked at you.

"Princess, if I may be so bold, I think it best if we hunker down for the night and continue on our journey tomorrow. It won't be too much further. I think some rest would do us good."

You looked towards the bright lights of the city center and sighed softly. It was indeed late and you supposed one more night couldn't hurt.

"Alright," you said softly. "Children, what do you think?"

The boys nodded and rubbed their eyes sleepily. It seemed as though they were the only thing keeping each other upright. 

"There's a little inn listed here on the map," Ezra said, nodding at a brightly lit two story building a few hundred feet from where you stood. "Seems as good a place to stay than any."

You smiled and nodded. One more night to spend with Ezra. It was as though Kevva was indeed looking out for you and hearing your prayers. "This will be perfect."

Ezra smiled and led the way down the path towards the little inn. He passed over Marie to your arms and set your backpack down. "I'll be right back," he said as he opened the door to the main office of the inn. He returned several minutes later with two sets of room tags and nodded to the top floor.

You set Marie down and picked up the backpack as Ezra herded the children up the stairs. You followed them and wondered how the children would get along after he left you. They would ask for him and cry when he didn't come, this much you knew. Could you disappoint them like that?

"A suite for the little flock," Ezra hummed as he unlocked the door. The children, now slightly more awake, rushed in, pushing and shoving one another to try and be first. There were two single beds and a fold out cot against the wall. Perfect for three adventurous children.

"Oh, Ez," you chuckled as the boys launched themselves onto the beds, whooping and cheering loudly. "Boys, boys! You must be quiet, other people are trying to sleep. Now, Aiden or Henry, one of you needs to let your sister have one of the beds."

"I will, mama," Henry offered quickly. "If I'm gonna be an explorer some day, I'll need to practice sleeping on a bedroll!"

You smiled and nodded. "Very good, my darling. Now say goodnight to Mr. Ezra."

One by one the children said their goodnights to him before they turned towards their beds.

"We're right next door whenever you're finished here, Princess," Ezra murmured. His touch on your back lingered long after he pulled away.

You quickly got the children tucked into their beds, explaining they were to be on their best behavior. They were not to open the door for anyone and that you were next door if they needed you. You pressed kisses to each of their cheeks before you turned the light off. 

Just before you shut the light off, you heard Aiden ask, "Mama, do you think Mr. Ezra will want to stay with us now?"

"I don't know, my love," you replied softly. "Goodnight, sweetheart."

Ezra was already on the bed when you entered your room and you were shocked to only find one large bed in your room. You would have thought Ezra would have gotten another room like the one for the children.

"This was all that was left, Princess," he hummed as if he could read your mind. "Figured the children wouldn't mind those little beds as much as we would. Besides, I thought you deserved a nice big bed to sleep in tonight. There's a little cot for me there, don't worry."

You bit your lip and looked at him, spread out and relaxed on the bed. He had kicked his boots off and the deep green of his sweater had ridden up his torso slightly to reveal a strip of tan skin.

"I think I'm going to wash up," you said quickly as you rushed towards the restroom. You kept your eyes down to avoid looking at him. He didn't need to see your blush. Ezra watched you carefully, his dark eyes never leaving you, even when you turned to shut the door.

After you washed up, you realized the backpack was still out by the door in the bedroom. There was no way to get it without Ezra seeing you. One threadbare towel the inn provided was definitely not enough.

"Ez?" you called softly when you cracked open the door. "Can you get my robe? Please?"

You heard the springs creak on the bed and Ezra appeared in front of the washroom door. He had removed his sweater at some point while you washed up and he handed it to you. His eyes never left yours as you gratefully accepted the sweater.

"Thank you," you murmured as you slipped it on over your head. You felt your cheeks heat up when Ezra did not look away.

You opened up the washroom door fully to reveal him standing before you, looking at you with a sort of reverence you had only read about. 

"I have," he said breathlessly. "In my more desperate hours, thought about this very moment. I admit that I have pictured you in a hundred different instances, but none of them compare to how you glow in this light. Like a star. My starshine."

You blushed and turned your head slightly. Your cheeks felt hot and his gaze ignited something within you that you thought had been buried long ago. A fire, burning through the night.

"Will you come to bed?" Ezra whispered as you approached him. He gently placed his hand on your waist and pulled you close.

You brushed your lips against his and nodded as you curled your fingers over his cheeks. "Yes," you breathed.

**************************

TAGLIST:

@the-feckless-wonder @gallowsjoker @phoenixhalliwell  @waatermelon-sugaar @huliabitch @miscellaneous-mando @lestrange2703 @seasonschange-butpeopledont @auandromedus

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Blood Red Heat prt 39

Lance was wild. How someone could operate semi-humanly while hacking his lungs up was going to be his omega’s new defining moment. Mornings had never been Lance’s best friend, nor Keith’s, but it seemed to be time they both woke up with the need to touch each other... Then, as Lance had improved, they’d done less touching and more “Lance dragging him from Red to go for a morning walk with Kosmo, despite the chill in the air leaving the omega coughing”. They had the same problem at night. Lance would want to sit up with the pack, but the cold air aggravated his lungs.

The pack had been really good with him. When Pidge started tinkering with her comms, she actually took the time to explain what she was doing to Lance. When Hunk needed to collect herbs, he invited Lance along, given their walks were never as far as Lance insisted on going in the mornings. Their first walk had been to Black, the closest of the five lions to Red. Lance could now make to Green before needing to rest, then Yellow. Yellow was the limit, the first time he’d had to support Lance back, because his omega didn’t want to be carried. Allura let Lance play with her hair, then Romelle asked him to do her hair too... Krolia was still a challenge, his mother trying to talk to Lance had ended up with Lance kind of squeaking, and apologising for being ill. When his mother hugged Lance, Lance turned red as he held his breath, Keith choosing not to save him immediately because with Lance being a permanent addition to their family, he had to learn to cope with Krolia sooner rather than later.

Shiro took a little longer to warm back up to. Lance wanted to be close to him, but sometimes he couldn’t find the right words, so would move closer to Keith for comfort. His brother seriously fearing Lance didn’t like him anymore, until Lance finally found the words to explain he sometimes got a bit overwhelmed and confused as he wasn’t used to having his omega talking to him. Keith getting jealous when their little sign for this would be Lance holding onto Shiro’s hand or leg. When they were alone, Lance could articulate most of what he wanted to say, but there were clear signs he’d forget or get muddled when he really tried to concentrate on anything for longer than a few minutes. Coran seemed to think it was all exhaustion and would work its self out slowly as Lance began being able to stay awake longer and longer.

Then Lance went and surprised him. Krolia had started teasing him over how lazy he’d become. When Keith had sent his boyfriend a pleading look, Lance had waved him off to train with his mother and Kosmo. His mother was mercilessly. Training felt good after being so stagnant, but every muscle throbbed as he dragged himself into Black to shower and change. Black laughing at his exhaustion, always his biggest supporter right there. Unintentionally he’d kind of fallen asleep on his bed, his bed so inviting after being made to run laps around all 5 lions... the lions were massive... and life wasn’t fair.

Panicking hard over falling asleep, he’d rushed outside to find the sun had set. Jogging into camp to find Lance and apologise his arse off for not being there for him, Hunk tricked him. Playing up that Lance needed alone time, he sent him running off to find Lance who’d “wandered away from camp and refused to come back”. Their friends were wankers. Lance had wandered away from camp, to set up a picnic for the pair of them. Sitting on the blanket with Kosmo, the space was lit with two emergency lights. Keith not knowing he was walking into a picnic until he’d come to the edge of the blanket

“Babe?”

Staring up at the night sky, Lance shifted his gaze to him, smiling up in a way that went straight to Keith’s heart

“Hey, you”

“Hey, yourself. Been here long?”

“A little while. Come sit down next to me”

Sitting beside Lance, Lance moved the blankets he had around his shoulders to cover both their shoulders, Kosmo whining disinterestedly at his arrival. Lance didn’t seem overly sad. There was nothing in his scent that pointed to him being upset

“Hunk said you’d wandered off wanting to be alone”

“That’s because I asked him to. I’m sorry, you would have worried, but I wanted to do something nice for you. It’s not much in the way of dinner, and it’s cold now, I thought a picnic under the stars would be nice”

Keith couldn’t quite believe it

“You... organised something for me?”

“Yeah. The others helped, before you tell me off for pushing myself. I know caring for a person is hard and I wanted to show that I appreciate you”

Smiling at him so sincerely, Lance was the prettiest omega he’d ever met

“You didn’t have to”

“I wanted to. Hunk helped me cook. And I had a nap earlier while you were sleeping so I’d be awake enough to do this tonight”

“Babe... I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to crash out”

“You needed it. I saw how hard Krolia pushed you today”

His mother’s hard training now made sense

“Why am I now getting the feeling she was in on this?”

“Because she was. No big surprise, but it’s soup again. And some herbs that are meant to resemble a salad”

“No meat?”

Lance elbowed him softly in the side

“No. If there were chickens I could have cut and gutted one, but there wasn’t”

Keith was instantly in awe. Living on space whale he’d had to learn how to catch and kill animals to break the monotony of plant based dinners, Krolia had to teach him more than he’d ever wanted to know

“You know how to do that?”

“I come from a farming family. How do you think I knew how to milk a cow?”

“That’s... fair. You didn’t have to do anything special for me”

“I did and I do. Sick Lance is kind of an arsehole”

“Nah, not an arsehole. I will give you that you’re stubborn”

Lance sighed a sigh that Keith couldn’t quite place. Despite being happy, there was something there that tugged at him

“Babe?”

“Sorry. I was thinking about home before you came. You didn’t... okay, my home was always super super busy. Even if you were sick, you still helped out. If your hands were free, you’d fill them. That kind of thing”

Oh. He didn’t know what to say to that. Lance had a loving family from the sounds of everything he’d said

“That sounds...”

“Hard? Yeah. It was. There was a time I was really mad at my parents, but I’m over that. Anyway, you should eat”

“What about you?”

“Don’t worry, I’m going to eat too. Hunk made me eat earlier, then Pidge let me nap against her...”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Romelle is totally becoming a bad arse too. Shiro was helping her and Allura train. Coran kept throwing in suggestions but they didn’t go well”

It sounded like Lance had had a good day without him. Keith feeling kind of lonely to have missed it, not that he’d say so. Lance needed his pack and they’d all finally stopped reapologising to each other

“So why under the stars?”

“I used to love watching the stars when I was a kid. My siblings and I would make up dumb stories, then my Mami would come yell at us all for being outside”

“Why do I feel like she had a lot to deal with?”

“She did. There was never a moment of peace at home in Cuba. Cousins and siblings and chores... and a son that didn’t confirm to the standards of being an omega”

“That’s not on you. That’s no more your fault than... well, anything”

Lance chuckled as he snuggled close

“You’ve gotten better with your words, but it’s reassuring that you’re still you under all that rugged and grizzled appearance”

“I didn’t ask to grow up”

“I know. I know that it would have been hard, even with a mission to preoccupy yourself with. We’ll throw it on the therapy pile how insecure I am about my looks when my alpha is smoking hot”

“Says you”

“Dude, literally, have you seen yourself in a mirror? Omegas and betas are going to be queuing up just to catch a glance of Voltron’s sexy leader”

“Leaders, babe”

Lance hummed his disagreement, Keith kissing his boyfriend’s hair, using Lance’s words against him

“You really do have shockingly little faith in yourself”

“I look like a walking skeleton”

“Because you nearly died. I don’t care if you never have curves or whatever it is omegas think they need. As long as you’re healthy”

“Can I take a pass on going there right now? I don’t want to start wallowing over myself again when I want to spend the night out here with you”

“Fine, but only because it’s you”

“Thanks, babe. Anyway, let’s eat”

*

The soup really was cold. The salad a game of picking the herbs that didn’t taste awful on their own. Kosmo trying something that he obviously hated the taste of, his wolf taking off back towards the main camp as if he’d been betrayed. Pushing the remains of their dinner down the other end of the blanket, the pair of them laid next to each other under the stars, hand in hand

“Babe, how many stars do you think we’ve actually seen up close?”

“Me or you?”

“Either, either”

That was hard. They’d seen a lot of space, and yet they’d seen so very little of it

“No where near all of them?”

Lance’s snort told him he’d gotten the answer right. This was actually kind of nice, like way back when space hadn’t been all of this. When there were still mysteries out there that were mysteries and not an alarming gap in their intel

“Yeah... yeah, that’s true. Keith... do you wonder if maybe we’re still in the game?”

Rolling to his side, Keith leaned in to kiss Lance softly

“No. I did for a bit, but not anymore”

“I’ve been wondering why I’m taking all of this so calmly. We all apologised again, and I think I’m okay with that, but after so long... this kind of feels like a dream”

Keith bit back pointing out Lance hadn’t been all that calm when he’d been sicker

“We’ve got our second dynamics back, and I don’t know about your omega, but my alpha has been pretty nonstop”

“I don’t... my head feels busy. It feels weird...”

“Good weird or bad weird?”

“Both. Sometimes I feel ok and others I feel so on edge that it feels like everything will break”

“Depression and anxiety will do that to you. Plus, you need to cut yourself a break. You presented really late”

“I know. Maybe that’s why I keep wondering if this is all a dream?”

“I promise you it’s all very real. We’re here together”

Nosing into Lance’s cheek, his omega’s scent filled him with warmth. Reminding Keith he had another question to ask

“I know this is a bit late, but do you mind when I call you “omega”?”

“At first it kind of... didn’t feel right, but I can hardly deny it after spending your rut and my heat together”

“I’m sorry it was such a huge burden on your body”

“It’s okay. And... honestly, it did get better. You’re a kind alpha”

“I’m not so sure about that. I did get... rather... passionate”

Lance snorted again, tilting his head to kiss Keith’s cheek just short of his lips

“I am. You... were very good to me”

Keith sighed as he forced himself to roll back. Lance was very very tempting, more so than Pike

“You’re going to wake my alpha up again if we keep talking about sex”

“Maybe I want to...”

“Babe?”

This time Lance rolled to face him, his omega walking his fingers up Keith’s chest and bopping him lightly on the tip of his nose

“You... me... under the stars”

Keith wasn’t not interested, but he did wonder with all Lance’s questioning if this was a dream

“I thought you were recovering”

“I am. I also had a talk with Coran today too. He didn’t say rush into sex, but he did say that if I wanted to be intimate with you, that was my choice and it’s my body. He also went on and on about honour, and how you were a very honourable man... and how you reacted at the idea of me being knotted to save my life”

Keith had been furious and sick to his stomach at the thought that could be the only way

“I didn’t want to... not without your consent. You sound like you had a very busy day”

“I know. And kind of, but not really at the same time... I just... being in love with Allura was tiring. I couldn’t blame her for not loving me back, and I didn’t understand how... How I couldn’t be enough. On the other hand, you... These last few however long it’s been... it’s made me feel... infinity better. It’s... easy with you. I feel like... I’m waiting for your every word and to see what comes next for us. That makes me sound pretty pathetic”

Lifting their hands, Keith kissed the back of Lance’s

“I don’t think it does. I just honestly don’t want you to feel rushed or that I won’t be interested because we don’t have a super intense sex life. I want to do this right”

“I know you do... I hate the term “making love”... but I can’t think of how else to word it. I want to make love to you under all these stars before everything gets hectic again. I want to try to work harder on concentrate on making these small happy moments with you”

“I don’t want to aggravate your lungs...”

“Babe, my lungs will be a mess for a long time. Coran didn’t say it, but it could take months for everything to heal properly, if they ever do... If you treat me like glass every time I cough, I don’t think I can take it”

“I just... don’t want to lose you”

“Trust me, apparently I’m stubborn”

Keith kissed the back of Lance’s hand twice more

“You are very stubborn... I think I can be in the mood for a little romance”

“Mmm... why don’t you show me what you’ve got, samurai”

*

Laying Lance out under the stars, Keith wanted to do this right. Lance was a hopeless romantic. Absolutely hopeless and well known for his romantic heart. Lance smelt intoxicating, his natural musk mixing with his aroused hues. Kissing Lance’s inner thighs, the way the muscles jumped was adorable

“You okay, babe?”

“Yeah... just... very exposed”

Keith had stripped him down slowly, Lance’s shirt hadn’t made it easy, both of them smacking their foreheads against each other as the clumsily made their way through things. Kissing had lead to wandering hands, Lance making the sweetest little mews as Keith had slowly started to open him, as he hid his face against Keith’s shoulder

“I’m just as exposed, you know”

Covering his face, Lance mumbled into his hands. The emergency lights had been laid down to cut the amount of light, yet Keith knew if he could have seen it, Lance would be blushing

“But you’re so hot it’s not fair”

Smirking down at Lance, Keith teased him gently

“Oh, babe. You’ve got it bad for me, don’t you”

“Shut up”

Too cute. Lance was too cute. Did all alphas turn into such idiots when they found their omega?

The sex was slow, Keith tracing his hands over Lance soft skin, keeping his thrusts slow almost to the point of lazy, Lance’s scent grew sweeter and sweeter. It was nothing like sex with Pike, or the hard dirty sex they’d had when both their instincts were screaming to breed. Having marked Lance’s neck with plenty of possessive hickeys, his boyfriend smacked him when he started teasing his nipples. The tiny brow buds just the right size. Lance had fallen apart beneath him, the back of his hand against his mouth, though it didn’t stop the little moans and mews that Lance would give. Everything was so overwhelmingly intoxicating. The warm wetness of his boyfriend’s heat. The wet squelching noises each time be buried himself. The way Lance was so open and pliant for him. And the fact that other than him, and Darkstorm, no one else had laid hands on their beautiful omega. Lance’s ganglyness might turn other alphas away, but Keith knew how much work Lance put it into training. He knew he worked himself far more than anyone else, except for maybe him.

Moving his hand from his mouth to Keith’s shoulder, Lance whined softly

“Up...”

Keith stopping his thrust to leave himself buried deeply in his omega, so close to coming but wanting Lance to come first

“You want up?”

“I wanna cuddle”

“Okay, little omega”

Seating Lance in his lap, his omega cried out as he sank back down on Keith’s erection, Keith massaging Lance’s arse as he gave him a moment to adjust. With his arms wrapped around him, it was like they were only two beneath the blanket of stars above

“You okay, babe?”

“Mmm... I want it hard and fast”

So bossy...

Taking Lance by the hips, Keith let his control slip, moving Lance to meet each desperate thrust as his knot started forming

“Do you want my knot?”

“Please... alpha... I’m going crazy”

His pride swelled, his omega pleasured to the point of wanting his knot. Lance might not fall pregnant any time soon, but practicing was fun. Rolling his hips, they both moaned, Lance’s lips finding his, kisses clumsy as Keith thrust up over and over, knot flaring as Lance came with a heavy groan, his full weight driving Keith’s knot as deep as it’d go as his own orgasm painted his lovers insides with his seed. Biting on Lance’s shoulder, he’d very nearly bitten Lance’s neck, the amount of pleasure and joy he felt nearly forcing him to bond with his omega too soon.

Boneless and breathless, Lance nuzzled into his hair. Body shaking as Keith kept rutting through each slow burst of cum. Had Lance been able to fall pregnant, Keith was sure he’d pumped enough into knock him up. He’d never experienced anything like it a rut. Sure, he’d come a lot, but this was like a fucking volcanic eruption in comparison... and the way Lance rippled and squeezed... his body already trying for a pup of their own. Pups weren’t everything, and if the day came where Lance wanted a pup, Keith would do absolutely everything he could to make that dream happen.

With Lance firmly knotted, Keith hushed him as his knot jostled, the alpha reaching for a blanket to cover his loves cooling body. It’d do no good for Lance to catch a cold when he still had so far to go recovering. Kissing his hair, his omega hummed softly, a “thank you for the blanket” that he couldn’t find the words for

“Babe, are you okay?”

“Mmmm”

“My knot should go down soon... I’m sorry it puts so much strain on you”

His crotch was soaked from cum and slick, he’d probably regret it later, but that was for later Keith to deal with

“Mmm... ‘s ‘kay”

“You did so good, babe. So good for me”

“‘nly you”

“Yeah, babe. Only me”

They’d all apologised to each other, yet Keith still felt a burst of anger that their pack could think Lance would be sleeping around on diplomatic missions. It was the same kind of useless anger that he’d felt about leaving the team with Kuron. An anger he couldn’t do anything about, and an anger that would take a while to fade. Before they’d even been... close? Keith hadn’t thought Lance the type to sleep with just anyone, despite the “Nyma incident” and his omega’s chronic flirting. Lance was so damn faithful. He’d never do anything to risk negotiations or put their pack in danger. If Keith let himself think too much on it, he’d only grow angry at everything all over again.

Whining softly, Keith caught the hues of anger starting to bleed into his scent, upsetting Lance

“Shhh... it’s okay. My alphas just getting worked up at the idea of anyone daring to think they could hurt you”

Things were different for him. Lance had forgiven their pack, one by one, and as “Pike”. Yet his boyfriend had admitted he did feel moments of hurt and unsureness sometimes when he’d catch one of their pack out the corner of his eye. To Keith it was understandable. He wouldn’t have been mad with Lance if Lance hadn’t been able to accept the apology of their pack yet, yet Lance was so damn kind

“You won’t let ‘em”

“Nah, babe. They have to get through me first”

“Mmm... so damn dependable”

Tickling Lance’s side, the omega laughed tiredly, hissing when he tugged on Keith’s knot before settling his weight back against Keith

“Nooo... no tickling”

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it”

“I know... You’ve got a case of “Roman Hands” and “Russian Fingers””

The reference went straight over Keith’s head

“If you say so”

“I do...”

“Okay”

Lance sighed at him, Keith kissing his hair. He knew he had a lot to learn, but being this open only felt right because Lance had shown him he’d be there for him. Right now Lance just needed a little propping up, but soon the omega would be back to being his right hand man and his stability. What started as mess of jealousy and mutual lashing out, had grown slowly, piece by piece, and now it’d morphed into something completely new and breath taking. Far more breath taking than the stars above.

[secretgamergirl]

We really need 1:1 time passage in games.

I play a lot of games. I particularly play a whole lot of RPGs, strategy things, survival games, and these all tend to be games that try to create an extra sense of immersion with hunger, thirst, and a day night cycle. And WOW do they ever end up doing the exact opposite with the implementation!

Like, let’s just start with food. If I am playing a survival game, and I choose not to eat for a while, my little hunger meter will bottom out, and I will start taking damage then eventually die. This tends to take like, one real life hour/in-game day, give or take to kick in, and then death comes within like, maybe 5 minutes if they’re generous? And I stave this off by... usually finding, killing, cooking, and eating, 2 entire turkeys per real hour/in-game day.

So... what the hell is any of that!?

So we have hunger, and we’re representing it as this slowly draining meter you have to keep an eye on. Already, that’s just weird. In my experience, you can go an entire day, not eating a damn thing, and not feel a thing out of the ordinary. But when you do actually get hungry, it can be overwhelming and impossible to ignore (have you eaten yet today by the way? My meal schedule’s gotten totally weird). Nothing about that makes sense to simulate as a slowly lowering bar. If you want realism, you have absolutely no onscreen hunger meter, and then like every 4-24 hours or so you have some incredibly distracting hunger indicator kick in and stay kicked in. Like, activate rumble packs and leave’em going at a steady pulse sort of annoying. And it gets worse when you’re actually preparing food.

Also feeling hungry is not an early indicator that you are going to suddenly die of starvation, or even that you’re anywhere near that point. I had dinner 6 hours ago, I’m a little hungry now. It varies a lot, but actually starving to death can take upwards of going TWO WHOLE MONTHS without any food at all. Like if we’re representing that as a meter, “hungry” kicks in when it drops to 99% full. Starvation is not a particularly common cause of death. If you’re dying of starvation, either someone is intentionally starving you to death, or some horrific catastrophe has just wiped out completely absolutely every potential food source in an area you somehow cannot wander your way out of even if you have months to do so. Relevant real world fact- Any time you see stuff about people dying of starvation, that’s never “farming just is not a thing that works in this area,” it’s “some malicious tyrant is actively preventing these people from accessing food in a deliberate effort to cause them to starve.” It’s really not actually a concern in any sort of survival story, unless we’re going real long term.

Meanwhile, have game designers ever actually, like, eaten food? Like I said, 2 whole turkeys per real hour/game day seems to be the going standard and like... have you had a turkey? I live in America, there is this tradition on Thanksgiving to go get a turkey, spend a day cooking it, and serving it as part of a meal served to one’s whole extended family. You’ve got that one turkey (granted, generally with a lot of side dishes) feeding like... a dozen people, easily. And at the end of the day, you’ve only MAYBE collectively made your way through like half a breast. You carve up a bunch more and send everyone home with a ton of leftovers. Then you’ve still got this giant mountain of turkey left, and you’re eating it for like the next week until you’re completely sick of turkey and throw the rest out, with plenty of meat entirely uneaten on the bird. Or hey, do you eat hamburgers? You know how the standard for a really kinda too big to responsibly be ordering it hamburger is “a quarter-pounder?” Which refers to the 0.25 lbs. of meat on the bun? Just quickly googling “beef weight” and copying the preview text from the oddly named first hit, on beef2live.com... “An average beef animal weighs about 1200 pounds and has a hanging hot carcass weight (HCW) of about 750 pounds.“ I can’t honestly say I know what “hanging hot carcass weight” is and I kinda doing want to, but I’m assuming that’s how much you have to work with after stripping out all the bones and organs and such. Multiply that by 4 to get how many oversized burgers you get out of one “beef animal” (why does it not say cow? I’m growing increasingly unsettled)- 3000 burgers. Give or take. You go smack that one Mnecraft cow with your sword, you should be fine for like 5 years. At least assuming we’re not simulating food spoilage. And if we are, HEY THAT TAKES SIGNIFICANTLY LONGER THAN ONE DAY, 2 IF YOU SALT IT!

And I mean, on top of that, we’ve got this whole standard I keep citing of 1 real world hour/1 in-game day. That kinda seems to be one of the more common standards for the passage of time video games use. That or 1 minute=1 hour. And I... really don’t understand why we have these scales?

Like, the earliest example of a day/night cycle in a game is Dragon Quest 3, where 1 steps on the over world map=12 minutes passing, or 120 steps=1 day. That’s a weird scale I’m having to use, but that’s because as the most traditional of JRPGs, DQ3′s sense of both time AND space are super abstracted and walking a short distance across the world map is this super compressed and simplified conveyance of a big long epic journey through the untamed wilderness. The first games I can think of offhand to really do it as a real time elapsed ratio thing are like... The Sims and GTA 3? Let me look at each of those in turn in a bit here.

So, The Sims has to pass days pretty quick, because that’s like, the whole idea. We’re watching this little household drama unfold in a compressed time scale... but the scale is really messed up? Like, we start off pretty simple. Sims work their shifts of like 9-5 on the in-game clock, need an appropriate amount of sleep... but then MOST things have timing based off having animations play at a reasonable pace, which is to say, 1 to 1 time, not 1 to 60. It takes like 3 in-game minutes for a Sim to get up out of a chair, several more minutes to walk to the kitchen and even start cooking, altogether just getting up, making a meal, cleaning up, and sitting back down is going to end up being this hours long affair, most of that being travel time from one room to another. It’s weird, and practically speaking you end up having them eat one meal, use the toilet once, and take a shower once per in game day, because less than that problems occur, and more than that, it’s a huge pain. And forget conversations. Those are like 12 hour commitments.

And then we have GTA3, where 1 real minute=1 in game hour... and this isn’t tied to anything in-game at all really. You don’t eat, you don’t sleep, nothing really has business hours to deal with, the whole day/night cycle is just there to give you a nice cycling change of scenery... and also again, breaks immersion, because the animation speed is 1:1. According to a video I just watched, walking end to end across the map of GTA3 takes a full 48 in-game hours (121 in GTA5). And I mean... there’s races, and high speed chases, and all this other stuff that according to the in-game clock are at such slow speeds you can barely tell anything’s moving. It’s weird and arbitrary! And also unnecessary! Like, I’m pretty sure I sank at least 80 hours into my first playthrough of GTA3. I definitely spent enough time cruising around any given island that if time passed in a 1:1 ratio, I’d still see what everything looked like at every time of day. And hell if you rigged it up to a real world clock I could plan around that, do all the cool missions right at sundown.

But I mean, also, there’s these things called movies and TV shows? You may have heard of them, because it’s where games get a whole bunch of terms they use all the time. Like camera, and scene. So the thing there is, when, say, a movie switches to a new scene, they’ll often arbitrarily jump the day/night cycle ahead by several in-movie hours, or even days, so the lighting is appropriate to what’s going to happen in that scene. You can actually just... do that in games, too. It’s OK. Nobody’s going to stop you or say it’s breaking immersion. I talk to this guy to start this mission at what’s clearly noon, then we fade to back, and I come back out onto the street late at night so I can do this daring nighttime raid. That’s.. OK. You can do that. Honest. No need to have the sun doing crazy fast laps in the background.

Anyway, other games since have all copied that time scale, because blindly copying things from GTA3 was kinda... how people made games for a good stretch of time (and yeah yeah yeah, Elder Scrolls was probably already doing it, whatever... hell so was Robinson’s Requiem I’m pretty sure, and Drakken I know was paced something like that). But anyway, we mixed that sort of time scale with Survival Gameplay and we’re just kinda mashing these problems together. We’re doing everything in this one to one time scale, but the in-game clock is running at like 60 times that, and our already ridiculous food intake needs are downright absurd, and suddenly we’re destroying absolutely all life on sight to sate our ever-present ravenous hunger (and possibly never sleeping).

And like... survival games don’t actually need that? Like the interesting bits of the angle are finding sources of things like clean water and shelter so you don’t die of exposure once the sun’s down and stuff. And these are things you really just need to do once and you’re set. You could... basically set up a whole game, running in real time, where these are early potential fail states. Get some kind of shelter set up within the first 5 hours or so, sleep to advance straight to the next day after pulling that off, then you have like 3 days total to find drinkable water, and... honestly at that point we’re talking like a good 45 minutes of gameplay and you could really end it there, or start your last goal. But instead, no, we’re making some kinda crude axe/bow and killing everything to eat.

Not only is it not realistic, not only does it take me out of the experience by checking the math, the whole affair feels kinda like I’m being put through someone’s weird hyper-masculine cargo cult fantasy of what it would have been like if they grew up Hunting With Dad and like.... OK people who actually do that still kill like one animal, then drag it home, throw it in a big fridge, and eat it for quite a long time, or sell it, or leave it to rot because they’re just really into ending the lives of innocent creatures and don’t want weird gamey meat at all.

So yeah, just let time be time, and don’t ever actually make me eat if we’re trying for some kind of gritty realism thing. I really don’t get hungry nearly that often and fill up quick.

[love-and-monsters]

Wyvern Prince 12

The first step of your plan for ignoring your feelings was to avoid Davrakoss as much as possible. It wasn’t a perfect plan, of course. You were still his servant, and that meant you had to be around him at least some of the time. But you could at least be a distant servant. You would do as you were asked, nothing more and nothing less. No personal interactions, no familiarity. You were a servant, not his friend.

It was a good plan, and it probably could have worked, if Davrakoss hadn’t been completely determined to undermine you at every turn.

Every time you tried to pull back, he tried to draw you back in. If you were silent, he would try to engage you in conversation. If you tried to be more formal, he would insist on being more familiar. No matter how distant you tried to make yourself, Davrakoss was disarmingly and almost annoyingly friendly.

It was a surprise when, one afternoon, you were sent to the kitchen to collect an afternoon tea set. Tea was fairly common among the nobility as a time to meet and gossip with others in their social standing. Meeting with the queen herself for tea was considered a high honor. But Davrakoss never took tea. Considering how rare it was that he ate anything other than meat, you were inclined to believe he didn’t even like tea. He wasn’t much of a gossip either, so he entirely skipped over the tradition by choice.

Climbing the stairs with a heavy tea tray was often difficult, but learning to do so one handed was practically a requirement of the palace staff. With careful balance, you walked up the spiraling stairs and placed the tray on the table.

Davrakoss was waiting by the window, staring out over the kingdom. His tail tip traced the floor in a series of small twitches. He turned when he heard the tray hit the table. “Thank you,” he said.

You curtsied, deliberately looking slightly down so your gaze was on his feet rather than his face. “Of course, sire.” You glanced at the tray, which had been set for two. “Are you having a guest? Would you like me to fetch them?”

Davrakos laughed. “No need. She’s already here.” He crossed the room in a few quick strides. “Would you mind joining me?”

You took in a very slow breath and let it out in a very slow exhale, careful not to react. There were several protestations you could give, most of them relating to how it was entirely unbecoming for a servant to join a prince for tea, but you couldn’t actually think of one he would listen to. The only excuse you could think of was the truth- that it would be too uncomfortable- and you weren’t exactly eager to go down the lime of questioning that would cause. Instead, you lowered your head in a nod. “If you wish it, sire.”

Even without looking at his face, you could sense his frown. He took a seat and you set out the dishes and poured tea before sitting as well. It was very difficult not to look him in the eyes when you were staring ahead, so you did your best just to stare at his chin.

Davrakoss lifted his cup and rotated it in his hands. “I feel like we haven’t talked much lately,” he said. “How have you been?”

“I’ve been all right,” you said. Your tone as deliberately clipped and careful. You were trying to avoid drinking the tea or eating the tea cakes, but they did smell good. Your stomach protested quietly.

“That’s good.” Davrakoss took a sip of tea. His tail curled close to his body. “Have-” He cut himself off, cleared his throat, and set his teacup back on the table. “Have I done something to make you uncomfortable?”

You lifted your eyes too high, just for a moment, and you caught a glance of his entire face. His lips were set in a downturned line, his eyebrows furrowed, and his eyes full of worry. Your chest clenched and you dropped your gaze away.

“No. You haven’t done anything.” It wasn’t as though he had intentionally manipulated you into being attracted to him. “I apologize if I gave you that impression.”

He half-lifted the cup to his mouth, sniffing at the slightly-floral liquid. “You’ve been quiet around me,” he said. He took another sip of tea.

You lifted your teacup. The warmth was soothing against your fingers; you hadn’t realized they were cold until you were actually holding something warm. “I apologize, sire.”

Davrakoss shifted in his seat. “You’ve been calling me sire again. You were getting better at that for a while.”

“Apologies, Davrakoss.”

He sighed and set his teacup back on the table. “Are you frightened of me?”

That wasn’t a question you’d really been expecting. You looked up into his face again, too startled to stop yourself. He looked a little sad, but more resigned. His eyes looked oddly dull, not quite like glowing embers anymore. “I’m not afraid of you,” you said, not taking your eyes off his face.

His eyes brightened, but his expression was still uncertain. “I thought perhaps you were nervous after seeing me in my true form so much,” he said.

“That doesn’t bother me,” you said honestly. “It’s beautiful.”

You hadn’t meant to say that, but Davrakoss brightened immediately. “Most humans wouldn’t think so,” he said. “I’m glad that you do.” He took a swallow of tea and glanced at you. “Do you not like the tea? I could try and get something else.”

You lifted your cup to your mouth and took a few sips. It was good tea, sort of flowery and delicious. “It’s good,” you said. Davrakoss nudged the plate of biscuits and tea cakes toward you and you took one. He selected another and nibbled on it thoughtfully.

“If that hasn’t been bothering you, is there something else?” he asked. “I miss talking with you.”

It was a simple statement, but his voice was so earnest that it made your face heat and your stomach flop over. You took a second to recover before speaking. “There is nothing bothering me,” you said. “I suppose I am having a hard time recovering from the trip.”

“You can ask if you need some time,” Davrakoss said. “If you need a break, I’ll give it to you.”

“Thank you, Davrakoss,” you said. You had no intention of actually asking for the time, but being offered it was nice. You took another sip of tea. When you lowered the cup again, Davrakoss was looking at you with an expression of interest. “Is something the matter?”

“No,” he said. He leaned back in his seat. “Tell me about yourself.”

You blinked at him. You were forgetting more and more to not look him in the eyes. “I’m sorry?”

“I told you already, I don’t know much about you. You know a lot about me, but I can’t say the same about you.” He smiled, mood already improved. “I’d like to know more about you.”

“I’m afraid there’s not much to tell,” you said. “My life certainly hasn’t been as interesting as yours. I’m not terribly important.”

Davrakoss let out a little sigh. “If it’s easier, you could tell me about what life is like for people in your social class more generally,” he suggested. “I don’t know much about their lives either. It isn’t written about much in books.”

“That’s because it isn’t interesting,” you said. “Truthfully, there’s not much to tell.”

“I still would like to hear it.” Davrakoss put down his teacup and leaned over the table. His gaze was entirely fixed on you. It was almost magnetic. You couldn’t look away.

“Well.” You took a sip of tea to give yourself more time to think. You weren’t sure what would be interesting to a prince. “I suppose a lot of people in my class are farmers. They own their own farms and land and they raise animals or crops. Often, they sell them.”

Davrakoss frowned slightly, but he made no indication for you to stop. He just waited for you to keep going.

“Some people in slightly higher classes than me are craftspeople. They make fancier clothes, pottery pieces, furniture.” You put down the cup. “Likely, a very respected craftsperson made and painted these teacups.”

Davrakoss glanced at his teacup with some interest, but he still didn’t seem satisfied with what you were telling him. “Why don’t you tell me more about what living was like before you came to the castle?” he suggested.

“It was hard work,” you said. “I helped with chores, cared for the babies when they were young, cooked.”

“Is that why you became a servant?” Davrakoss asked. “Less work?”

A startled laugh escaped you before you could clamp down on it. Dammit, why did he always make you so much less guarded? “No. Being a servant doesn’t tend to be that much less work. I just couldn’t stay with my family anymore.” Davrakoss frowned, waiting for you to continue. “We had a lot of kids. Not as much food. My options were to immediately get married or to go and find another job. I didn’t have anyone I wanted to marry, so I went to be a servant.” I considered my teacup. “Sometimes I feel as though I should have just married anyway. It’s going to be hard to find someone now.”

Davrakoss took a gulp of tea. “Perhaps less difficult than you might think.” You gave him an odd look and he smiled through tightly pressed lips. “I mean that you are admirable. You work hard, you’re quite caring, and it isn’t as though you’re unattractive.” He took another quick swallow of tea, letting his cup linger at his lips for a moment longer than seemed necessary. “I think you might sell yourself short, is all.”

The words made a warm flush roll across your skin. Your stomach felt light and fluttery. How unfair and cruel it was that he was simply able to sit there and say things to you that almost undid you without even realizing. You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to detach yourself from the moment. He was being kind. It meant nothing.

“Thank you, Davrakoss, but I’m still on the older side for marriage. Though I suppose a prince’s approval might help.” You forced a smile, but he just gave a little nod, looking somewhat uncertain.

“You still plan on getting married?” He seemed thoroughly unenthusiastic about the idea.

“It is expected,” you said, neatly dodging any of the more complicated questions on the subject. You hadn’t thought much about marriage since you’d discovered your crush on Davrakoss. Any husband would pale in comparison to him. Your heart swelled and sank like a stone. You wouldn’t be marrying someone you felt like this about. Maybe you would grow to love them, in some way, but it was hard to imagine. Davrakoss seemed like the sort of person it would be difficult to live up to.

“Sara.” Davrkoss’ voice drew you out of your thoughts. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, of course. I was just lost in thought.” You turned your lips up. Davrakoss looked unconvinced.

“You’ve never been all that enthusiastic about marrying,” he said. “Every time I ask, you seem more or less resigned to it.”

“It’s… complicated.” Davrakoss waited. “I know I will not love the person I marry. Not at first. It’s just unlikely. I will grow to care for them, I’m sure, but I would like to be able to marry someone I love.” You smiled more forcefully. “But I would like some of the ideals that come with marriage. The companionship would be nice, and the family. So, I do what I must.”

Davrakoss nodded. “I’m sorry you feel pressured into this.”

You weren’t sure what to say to that. Instead of speaking, you took another biscuit. They were good. Sweet and slightly ginger-y. Davrakoss clicked his claws along the side of his teacup. “Is there anything you miss, living in the castle?” he asked.

“Obviously I miss my family,” you said. “I suppose I miss the spare time. I enjoyed embroidery, when I had the time for it. I have less time now.” You sipped the tea. “Not that I’m ungrateful. There are many lovely things about the castle that I appreciate. The gorgeous tapestries and the fine decorations and the like.”

“But it’s not the same,” Davrakoss finished in a low voice. He looked in your direction, but he was staring through you, not at you.

“You must miss your home too,” you said. His gaze focused back on you.

“I know humans don’t think much of sleeping in the wild, but I miss it. There’s something to be said for comfort, but there’s also such a thing as being too comfortable.” He shrugged. “Makes you soft in more ways than one.” One of his eyelids flickered shut in a rapid wink. You swallowed a laugh and forced your expression to be sympathetic.

“And it must be hard for you to not be in your own shape,” you added. “It must be uncomfortable.”

Davrakoss looked at you with an inscrutable expression. “It isn’t terribly uncomfortable,” he said. “Holding this form isn’t actually hard. I miss my wings and it dulls my senses a little- not as much as yours, but more than I’d like. That doesn’t mean there aren’t upshots, though. Hands, for instance.” He stretched one out in front of him, flexing his fingers. “Very useful. And while most human senses are, as I’ve gathered, a bit abysmal, you do outclass wyverns in one area.” Without giving you a chance to ask what, he extended one of his hands and took yours in it. He pulled your hand toward him, flipping it so it was palm-up. With his other hand, he traced along the lines of your palm. It tickled faintly, in a way that made the hair on the back of your neck lift.

“Touch,” he said. His eyes flickered to your face, then returned to your palm, almost shyly. His fingers trailed along your skin in little circles. If you didn’t know better, you would have thought the expression on his face was almost reverent. He seemed entirely fascinated by the simple feeling of your hand under his. “Wyverns can’t feel much,” he said quietly. “Our scales are thick, and they dull much of the sensation.” His fingers came to rest lightly on your wrist, as if he was testing your pulse. The hand underneath yours exerted a slight amount of pressure, just barely holding your hand. It felt like your heart had lifted into your throat. “Humans can feel so much more than we can. Even this… even this is a lot.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed. Slowly, his hands enfolded yours. There was something light and reverent about his touch, like he was holding something as delicate as a tiny bird.

You pulled your hand away. Your heart was pounding hard enough to almost shake your body. Davrakoss pulled his hands back, a faint flush coloring his cheeks. “Apologies if that made you uncomfortable. That wasn’t my intention.”

“It’s nothing, sire,” you said hurriedly. “Thank you for the tea. It was kind of you.” You stood, gaze focused on the table. “If you’re all done, then I can take the dishes back to the kitchen.”

Davrakoss nodded, standing up as well. “I’m glad you joined me,” he said. “I had a good time.” He caught your hand as you moved to clear off the table. “Perhaps we can do it again?”

“If you wish,” you said. Davrakoss smiled softly and squeezed your hand before releasing it.

“Only if you wish,” he said. “I will see you later.”

You nodded and dipped into a small bow before hurrying out of the room.

You managed to make it back to your quarters before breaking down. Quite a bit of effort had been put into rebuilding the servant’s quarters since they had burned down. Only a few parts of the building had been remade, but one of those parts was your room, which was good, because you really didn’t like crying in front of anyone else.

The emotions poured out of you in a stream of tears and sobs. You alternated between cursing at Davrakoss and just crying over him. He was kind and sweet and a good person and you needed him to stop being so nice to you because it hurt too much. Because the more he was nice to you, the more you would fall in love with him. And you couldn’t love him because he was a prince and you were a servant and he wouldn’t love you back. Nobles didn’t love servants. Not even when they said they did. You just needed to give it up.

You rolled over in your bed and mopped your eyes off. But what the hell were you supposed to do, though? Ignoring him hadn’t worked; if anything, he just tried harder to get your attention. And every time he was even remotely nice to you, it felt like your heart would jump out of your throat.

Okay, new plan. You couldn’t ignore him, you couldn’t withdraw from him, so you would endure it. You would be calm and rational. No matter what he made you feel, you just needed to remind yourself that you were a servant and you had no chance with him. And it would only be for another year, at most. Then you would leave and you could forget this all had ever happened.

You went to bed feeling not entirely satisfied with that solution, but better than you had about any other one before. Still. Your chest hurt.

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

I Need to Talk About “Problematic Faves” within TWDG [2/?]

 Backstories, the introduction of these characters and the importance of first impressions.

"Nice to meet’cha, I’ll be your disappointment for the evening.”

When I first started questioning why I like David as much as I do, I thought back to when we were first introduced to him in ep1. 

He didn’t leave the best first impression since the first words out of his mouth are along the lines of “You’re a real piece of shit.” Plus he, y’know, punches the shit out of Javi for not being there when their dad died. 

On one hand, fair enough to be distraught that your father just died and your brother was no where in sight... but, on the other hand, do you gotta get violent? 

Maybe it’s just because I’m an only child so I don’t understand how the whole sibling thing works, but punching your brother and then tossing him a beer before saying “I love you” seems.... not good? 

But, it’s also very telling in what David and Javier’s relationship is right from the start, and sets an idea for what’s to come throughout the rest of the season.

Say what you will about ANF: it’s a mess, it’s the worst season, whatever. But, when I tell you that it has one of the best openings to a game, I mean it. 

Everything about it is damn near perfect. Not only does it start right at the beginning of the apocalypse, but it tells us so much about our main protagonist and his backstory, it establishes the strained relationship he has with his brother and the rest of his family, and it introduces us to the walkers in a different light. 

I can’t watch the opening and NOT get chills every time little baby Mariana holds that cup in her hand and says, “Papi’s awake.” 

When they go see that Javi and David’s father is up and about after dying, it’s just chaos from there and I love it. 

Fight me all you want, but it’s an excellent start to the season. 

Unfortunately, ANF couldn’t keep that momentum going, but that’s a whole other discussion for another day. 

Back to David, something about the way he was initially presented stuck with me until we finally reunited with him at the end of ep2. 

So I thought back to other character introductions, how their backstories came into place, and how it affected their endgame.

A character’s introduction is crucial when it comes to storytelling, whether its subtle or in your face. You don’t want to give too much away,  but you want to give the viewer a taste of who this person is and what their importance is in this story in a more subtle but clever manner.

When introducing a character, you have the think about what their endgame is. How is this character going to change over the course of the story? How are the choices of this character going to affect our protagonist, the world around them, and the overall plot. 

Knowing these things can help you to sprinkle in little details within their introduction that tie into their endgame. 

When we first met Kenny back in s1, he was just this dude who wanted to get his wife and kid back to Florida, hop on a boat, and live the rest of the apocalypse with his family on the water. 

He was nice and showed concern over how Lee was doing with Clementine. He has a character design that gives away parts of his past as a fisherman before he tells us anything about it, and his accent [+overall voice acting and dialogue] tell us a lot about his upbringing prior to the events of s1.

We only got that glimpse of what was to come of his character after the walkers attacked Hershel’s farm. 

Shaun is stuck under the tractor with walkers pushing against the fence and Duck is grabbed. We as Lee are faced with the choice of who to help first: Shaun or Duck?

Regardless of our choice, Kenny obviously runs to save his son. He gets Duck out of harms way, but when Shaun begs for help, Kenny runs away, leaving him to be eaten by the walkers. 

This portrays the possibility of Kenny being cowardly, selfish, or someone who freezes up in moments of danger and runs.  It also sets up the guilt that lingers in his [and Duck’s] mind all the way through to ep3 and onward. 

When you think about Kenny, without knowing what happens to him in ep3, and you have to take a guess about what tragedy could take place to further his development, as well as bring that guilt full circle, what would you say?

Easy. He loses his family. Of course he does. It doesn’t matter if you don’t like it, but it makes sense that this would happen based on our first meeting with him at Hershel’s farm in conjunction with the themes of the game. 

So what does this have to do with him being a “Problematic Fave?” 

Uh, everything?

Ever heard of a “tragic backstory?” You don’t think such thing plays into why we loves characters like this?

Kenny the family man has a lovely wife and son. He does everything in his power to protect them, and it’s not enough. He was not enough to save his son, nor was he enough to save his wife.  

He lost them both within seconds of each other, being a witness to Katjaa’s suicide and the agonizingly slow death of his son, and he had to keep going in order to survive, even though he had nothing left.

In the beginning, Kenny was a regular John Doe like the rest of us. 

He had a job that kept him at sea a lot, he fell in love with a pretty vet and had a child with her. He thought this all would blow over and he could go back to Florida with his family and live peacefully. 

Season 1 is Kenny’s tragic backstory.

We got to live this tragedy with him, so when s2 comes around and we’re given his second first introduction in the series, we already have all this knowledge of what has happened to him, what his relationship was to Lee and Clementine, and the assumption that he was already dead.

Season 2 was what cemented a lot of people’s love and hate for him.

I have a theory that those who hate Kenny tend forget that 1st episode back in s1, choosing to solely focus on the Kenny from the meat locker in ep2 and all the negative repercussions that stemmed for our choice there, while those who love Kenny tend to look further back and take everything into account when analyzing his character. 

They sympathize with the man Kenny used to be, and are struck by this tragedy of who he became by the time s2 ended. 

Kenny from ep1 of s1 is not the same person as the Kenny from s2 ep5, and his journey is not only compelling from a character development standpoint, but a huge factor in why he is the favorite character of so many. Few characters are built up and developed that way he is. 

But can we say a lot of the same things about Kenny’s introduction in s2 that we can say about s1? Does it drop hints about what Kenny’s potential endgame could be? 

Yes, but it’s not quite as effective as it could’ve been. 

One of the first choices you make after meeting back with Kenny is whether or not you’ll sit with him at dinner. 

It’s a non-assuming choice, one that shouldn’t warrant any big repercussions, right? 

Except it’s the games way of presenting us with the choice of siding with Kenny under a more innocent pretense. It’s a taste of what’s to come. 

Based on our previous knowledge of him, as well as his seemingly good nature [one that reminds us of the beginnings of s1], we watch the way he presents himself to Clementine and decide if we want to sit with this old, nostalgic connection, or the new connections. 

Will you sit with Kenny, or will you sit with Luke and the cabin group? 

Will you side Kenny, or not?

This is what led everyone to believe that the final showdown would be between Kenny and Luke, and they really dropped the ball on what they built up here when they decided to replace Luke with Jane. 

Kenny’s part still holds fairly strong, but everything about it isn’t as well done as S1. 

And because I know I’ll be asked: as for his introduction in S3..... I don’t consider Kenny or Jane characters as much as I’d say they’re obstacles the writers had to throw in to give the illusion that our choices actually affected Clementine significantly when they really didn’t. 

He immediately dies in a car accident after being paralyzed and left to the walkers while Clementine runs away with a crying AJ. This does very little for the story of ANF other than to add fuel to Clementine’s own “tragic backstory.” 

So I don’t count it here. 

I want to talk about another great character introduction: Minerva.

Minerva is a special case compared to Kenny and other character introductions. We’re not plopped down in front of her like “Hi, I’m Clementine, nice to meet you, Minnie.” 

We actually spend two whole episodes only hearing about her, building her character up slow and steady, until we finally meet face to face in ep3. 

This complicates our first impressions of her, but only a bit. 

The game pretty much tells us Minerva’s backstory:

From what we’re told, Minerva was a sweet, musical girl who didn’t even like killing walkers. She loved her brother and twin sister. She and Violet were in a romantic relationship, and Violet gives us plenty to chew on about how lovely her voice was and how she was such a good friend. Her and Sophie’s “deaths” left everyone at the school devastated to the point where they actually started using their graveyard again. 

She almost seems too good to be true, don’t you think?

Then we find out she’s not dead. 

It turns out, Marlon and Brody lied about the death of the twins to cover up the fact that Marlon traded them away to the delta in order to save themselves and the rest of Ericson. The truth only comes out after Brody confesses everything to Clementine before her death dealt by Marlon’s hand.

So not only are we told that Minerva was this wonderful person, but that she was traded away with her twin sister to a group of people who, based on our first impression of Abel, are a dangerous threat that’s back for more of them.

Your mind swarms with the worst possibilities of what those people could have done to them, and you even question whether or not they’re still alive. 

Until we meet Lilly again and find out the truth: they turned them into soldiers, forcing them to fight in their war. 

Keep in mind that this is all apart of Minerva’s “tragic backstory” and we haven’t even truly been introduced to her yet. This is everything that the first two episodes have built up. 

We finally get our first glimpse of her in the trailer for ep3.

Everyone goes nuts. 

Minerva was so hyped up. Everyone was talking about how good she looked and how they couldn’t wait to meet her and learn what happened from her perspective. Everyone theorized about her role in the next two episodes and how maybe we can enlist her help in getting our friends back and reuniting her with Tenn and-

Then we get actually meet her.

Turns out, she is none of the things the game told us she was. 

Not anymore, at least.

She is not our friend or our ally and she is not going to help us get our friends back. She is fully brainwashed into the delta, and that’s the tragedy of Minerva’s first real introduction. 

She is a betrayal of everything we’ve been told due to the crime Marlon made of trading her away. We will never get to meet this Minnie we heard so much about. 

Instead, we get the husk that remains. 

This husk is one of our antagonists for the rest of the game. 

Knowing all of this, why do people still love her? Why are there fix-it fics and AUs where Minerva is “saved?” 

Because we all wanted to meet the Minnie we heard so much about, but instead, we got Minerva, the brainwashed soldier from the Delta who, under Lilly’s fucked up rule, killed her own twin sister in order to prove her loyalty to the group. 

We wanted Minerva to be on our side, to betray the delta for the school she once called home. But she didn’t.

Instead, she became our final antagonist of the whole series. 

Minerva, like Kenny, is a tragedy and we like that. 

I don’t mean that we like it as in “I’m so glad those horrible, traumatizing things happened to you!” but we like it in a way that it colors these characters gray. 

Suddenly, their behaviors are not portrayed the way they are just because they’re the “antagonist,” but because they’re a complex, three dimensional character. The game didn’t hand them to us and say “They’re evil, that’s all you need to know.” 

They took the time to flesh these two out in a clever way that got to us, either in a positive or negative light.

We are drawn to gray characters with interesting, albeit tragic, backstories that we can sympathize with.  

But, when you consider that this IS the apocalypse, doesn’t everyone have one of these “tragic backstories” in this series? Just like how everyone is actually a “Problematic Fave?” Does this really play into why we like them when it’s not even something unique to their character?

That’s a good point, so in order for us to like a character like this, do they have to have an even more intense, tear-jerking past than the rest in order to stand out?

Well... no. 

Nate’s the easy example for this one. 

I honestly don’t know what this dude’s about, and I don’t know if I even care, but somehow Nate tends to end up on everyone’s “Favorite Characters from 400 Days” list. 

Granted, he is a bit of a refreshing character to run into in this environment, what with him being so laid back, sarcastic, gross, and even sadistic in a way that’s mean to be comedic. 

But what do we even know about him or where he came from? 

Well, we know that he’s apart of the group that fan-favorite Eddie accidentally shot at, leading Nate to chase after him and Wyatt as a form of revenge. After that, he picked up Russell and headed back to a gas station where that old couple shot at them. 

The old man reveals that Nate’s been there before and attacked, stating that he’s here to finish them off. Nate denies this, but asks if Russell and him should finish them off and take all their stuff. 

From there, who the hell knows where this dude went. 

But that’s all we got. 

No “tragic backstory” from Nate, no implications of one, unless we missed the nonexistent detail that his previous group was his family or something. Even then, he doesn’t seem so concerned about the state of the world. He doesn’t have an issue picking up a random kid who could be dangerous. He was bored, after all. 

Nate is a character whose backstory has nothing to do with why people love him.  He’s an oddball out, in this case. 

It’s a different story when talking about how he’s introduced, though. This is where he has most in common with Kenny, Minerva, and all the rest of these “Problematic Faves”: He has a great impression. 

Well, assuming that you played Russell’s story before Wyatt’s, I suppose.

Nate’s likable, albeit insane, character isn’t dependent on who he was before or how he suffered. He’s a character who represents those in the world who thrive in times of disaster, choosing to take it as it comes, do whatever it takes to survive, and even get a sick thrill out of doing these problematic things. Odds are, life was boring before and now he truly gets to live. That’s all made clear in how he presents himself to Russell and the player. 

And.... I guess it worked? He is the “Problematic Fave” of a handful of people int he community, after all. 

Now that we’ve discussed three separate characters and their backstories, how they’re introduced, and how these two things affect their role within the story as well as our feelings towards them, I want to touch on one more thing before I go back to David. 

What does all of this say about the people who throw this annoying phrase of “Your fave is problematic” at those of us who find these characters with great backstories compelling? 

Do they not care or understand these backstories or what the introductions meant? Do they ignore them so that their perspective seems to be the correct answer? Are they so quick to judge based on the surface level that they don’t bother thinking twice about anything?

Do they feel that this character has wronged them, therefore they find they can’t bring themselves to tolerate them anymore? 

Or are they just being a bag of dicks who don’t care about anything other than berating anyone who dares oppose them and their opinions?

Well, yes and no to all of these possibilities. 

I’m sure there are people out there who don’t have a full grasp of what made Kenny the way he is in s2 because, well.... they’ve never lost a loved one. It’s easy to say “Get over it” to just about any troubling situation we’ve never found ourselves in. Even if we do feel for this character, sometimes it’s really only surface level because we don’t have a full comprehension of what they went through.

When I took acting back in high school, I had a teacher who could cry on the spot. We all assumed that he was just a good actor who could turn the tears on and off at any given moment, but then he explained how he did it. 

He lost his father in a drunk driving accident the same day he gave his last performance on stage as a high school senior. Whenever he needed to cry for a scene, this 58-year-old man would think back to the last conversation he had with his father that morning, and then about the moment he learned his father had died. 

Even in moments that didn’t require him to cry, but to develop a character and portray that convincingly, he pulled from that life experience. He also could sympathize with certain characters that we’d consider problematic while the rest of us were barely scratching the surface. 

He told us we need to come to terms with any tragedy in our lives and use it not only to create characters of our own, but to understand the ones most wouldn’t give a second glance to, and help relate ourselves to the real people around us. 

Since my high school days, I’ve experienced the loss of a longtime dog companion, and the alarming health decrease of two close family members. While I’ve never lost a child, a spouse, a parent, or a sibling, I find that a part of me can’t completely hate Kenny or even Minerva because I get it to an extent. 

So it makes me wonder if those who look at these backstories and still brush them off do.

But, there’s another argument to be made here. 

Maybe they do understand and that’s why they hate someone like Kenny. 

They have lost a loved one before or experienced some sort of trauma. They know about the grief, guilt, and anger that it can lead to. But, they also know it’s not an excuse to be mean, cold, or abusive to loved one. 

They know that such trauma can lead to lashing out, but the difference is between someone who knows what they’re doing is wrong, they need help, and they try to get it... and someone who using it to explain away why they’re broken and unfixable. 

Some see Kenny as someone who can’t change, or won’t change. That’s how they’ve interpreted him based on their experiences as someone who’s lived through these things, or been around someone who has. 

In their eyes, Kenny isn’t redeemable, “tragic backstory” or not. 

What about those who felt wronged by a character? 

I’ve come to the realization that this why I don’t like Minerva. 

She wronged me in the way that I had to watch either Louis or Tenn die because she showed up on the bridge with the illusion that she would take her brother to a better place. 

Louis, my favorite character across the entire series, and one that I’ve taken so much comfort in during the more recent darker moments of my life. Tenn, a character that I wanted to watch grow and become what characters like Ben or Sarah weren’t allowed to be come. 

Because of Minerva, the only way for both Louis and Tenn to survive is if I let Louis get kidnapped, resulting in him becoming mute due to the delta cutting out his tongue, I have to break AJ’s heart by telling him that I don’t trust him, and I have to watch Violet be devoured alive by a horde of walkers. 

I’m not willing to let Louis die, but I also don’t want him to lose his tongue, so in my route, I trust AJ to shoot Tenn and give Minerva what she wants. 

And no matter what? Clementine gets bit because Minerva sliced her leg apart, leaving her slow and weaker when trying to get away. I firmly believe that if Minerva hadn’t done that, Clementine wouldn’t have been bitten for the sake of “parallel.” 

It’s a situation that could’ve been avoided if Minerva hadn’t showed up, but her will to see and kill Tenn was strong enough for her 

People who love Minerva might not see it that way, or if they do, they’re a lot more forgiving than I am.

Believe me when I tell you that I can see this being a reason for the hate towards any character like this. 

Like Kenny. Lot’s of Kenny talk. 

I know there are those out there who loved Kenny in s1, but by the time s2 ended, they couldn’t stand him because s2 wronged them in their portrayal of Kenny and what he had become. This wasn’t their Kenny. 

To finish this segment off, allow me to answer that last question I posed:  Are they just being a bag of dicks who don’t care about anything other than berating anyone who dares oppose them and their opinions?

Of course, then there are the children who like to fight. The answer for why these people hate such characters is because they think of themselves as... let’s say, Batman. 

This community needs a hero to vanquish anyone who likes or enjoys these problematic characters and it’s a job only they can do! They’re the hero for sending that anon hate to your inbox!

This is an excuse to be a dick and we all know it. 

So, what does all of this Kenny, Minerva, and Nate talk amount to? 

It helped me in understanding a reason in why I like David so much.

I already knew that I enjoyed learning more about who he was prior to the outbreak, as well as having light shed on his and Javi’s relationship, but not in the way I initially thought. 

You see, ANF is different in the way that it feeds backstory to the player- through flashbacks. At the beginning of each episode, we play as Javi in the past before the apocalypse happened. 

From there, we get to see what David was like compared to what he is now, but they tell it to us through Javi’s point of view and we have to pick apart his character through that forced perspective. 

From the flashbacks alone, as well as ep1′s beginning, I put together that:

David was a single father trying to raise two incredibly young children. We’re never told what happened to his first wife. I used to assume that they ended up divorced, but now I’m more on board with the idea that she’s actually dead and that’s why David has full custody of Gabe and Mariana. 

Putting the pieces together now, it makes sense of why he married Kate when they’re clearly not compatible, and why he has these high expectations of her. David’s mother and father are still together, and with family being a big theme in ANF, it leads me to believe that David felt his children needed a mother figure in their lives in order for the family to be complete. He needed a wife. 

While I think he did love Kate, and she obviously loved him enough to marry him in the first place, David didn’t love her the way he should have. 

Kate tells us that their marriage was fucked up. We clearly see that given how she reacts when she sees David again, as well as when David himself confesses that things aren’t working out between them and that’s why he wants to go away.

They’re always arguing, he has those expectations of her as his wife and she’s fed up with it, and things are just.... not working. Of course they’re not. 

He wanted a wife to make him feel more complete, as well as give his children that mother figure. He wasn’t out there trying to find the love of his life. For all we know, he already had that with his possibly dead first wife [note: shoot, add “possible dead wife” to the list of shit David’s got going in his backstory for future reference]. He thought that he could try and change Kate from who she is because he was desperate for this to work. 

David and Kate should NOT have gotten married, but I can understand the stress David was under with having to raise two children as a single father while dealing with untreated trauma from being a soldier, his confidence in himself as a normal human-being deteriorating due to his “I’m a soldier and I can’t function here” mentality, working a shitty job while going back and forth on whether or not he should go sign up again, having a strained relationship with an irresponsible brother who lost his baseball career due to a gambling addiction yet still never being around when David needed him. 

David marries Kate and things don’t fix themselves. 

And then Javi does come around, and David doesn’t know how to act or what to say. 

Then his father keeps from them that he has cancer and he’s not planning on getting treatments for it. 

When his father loses his battle with cancer, everyone is there except Javier. David’s there holding his hand while his dying father asks for Javi.  

I get why David’s upset that his father isn’t seeing him because he’s looking for Javi. Is it selfish to feel jealous or heartbroken when it’s your father that’s dying? Yeah, but it’s a realistic feeling. Most of us have felt some level of this but don’t want to admit it because we don’t want to see ourselves in a negative light. It’s easy to look at David and be like “What a selfish prick.” 

But... why wasn’t Javi there? Everyone makes it clear that he should have been there, no excuse. Everyone was there for hours, for days but Javi was no where to be found. This plays beautifully into Javier’s character growth throughout the season, but what about David? 

Compared to the “tragic backstories” of Kenny and Minerva, David’s seems... a little mundane, huh? 

He has problems focused more in the real world rather than the apocalypse world. 

Every bad thing we’ve ever learned about Kenny and Minerva happened after the walkers. 

Plenty of people have served in the military and dealt with trauma rooted in their service.

Plenty have either been divorced or lost their spouse, were left as a single parent to raise the kids they love but are afraid they’ll fuck up if they do it alone. How about those who are apart of an unhappy marriage? 

Nearly everyone has worked a job they hate and know the toll it can take on your mental health. 

Left in the shadow of a more successful sibling, no matter how hard they try to be on that same level and earn that love, too. 

A parent with cancer, or another life-threatening illness.

Feeling as though they can’t function because they’re not built to live in such a humanly “normal” world, eager to find where they belong and have a fulfilling purpose. 

Everything David has going on prior to the apocalypse is real and relatable, and I like that this is the route they took with him. Rather than having him be like Kenny, who seemed to live happily with very little issue and only began to suffer when the apocalypse came, they took a route similar to Lee and Javier. 

“Things weren’t great before.” 

That being said, do any of these things justify David’s bad behavior towards Javi, Kate, Clementine, and everyone else? Does it justify the bad things he ends up doing during the events of ANF.

Hell no! 

David can be a real prick and amazing backstory/introduction or not, I am not okay with that!  

But look.

Listen.

ANF is such a mess. It’s a disaster. 

It’s ‘s2 mess,’ but on crack.

I firmly believe that David is one of the better things to come out of it, except he got severely fucked over by just how terrible ANF’s writing could be.

They started off so good. David is established and he has some of the better character moments in the entire game, but it’s all buried underneath the bullshit. 

They actually gave us David, who dealt with a lot of “normal” shit to try and find his place and be happy, made him have problems that we can see ourselves having and relate to, making us question ourselves, and then they gave him what he wanted. 

David met up with Ava, he found Clint and Joan, and they created a community together where David got to be this leader with a purpose. He got what he wanted at the sacrifice of his children, wife, brother, and parents, something he didn’t even have a choice in. 

They had all the right ideas... 

I love the different take to David’s backstory. I love the way he was introduced in ANF. I love the way these things managed to weave themselves throughout ANF despite it being...... ugh.

People who hate David, like the one who listed all of those lovely attributes of his in the previous part, think he is nothing but a whiny, selfish, asshole because of the way he’s introduced and portrayed in flashbacks and... I disagree to a point. 

He is an asshole a lot of the time, especially when you don’t side with him [heh, sound familiar] but that doesn’t mean he’s not a compelling, relatable character to study and infer about. And y’know what? I like that he’s not Mr. Nice Guy. Someone like him wouldn’t be. He is a person who can nice moments, and he has bad moments. It doesn’t excuse the shit he does, but it at least adds a depth to it that I appreciate. 

I’m mature enough to recognize these his bad behaviors, acknowledge them, and infer more about his character without makes excuses and pretending that him having a tough time means it’s okay for him be that way. 

I can see what they were going for as far as his endgame, but I’ll talk more about that later. 

As for the conclusion of this long winded segment: 

A character’s backstory, first impression, execution of developing these small seedling details into an overarching story plays an important role in the growing love of a character, problematic or not. Both love and hate can be stemmed from the maturity and knowledge of the viewer based on how relatable and sympathetic they find these ideas. 

[Continued in 3/?]

[dreamlikeapsycho]

I saw the max facts (pun intended 😂) you did for that question a while ago. So I was wondering if maybe you could tell us some more facts about Max it doesn’t have to be anything too detailed but anything you know would be nice to know, pretty please 😊

Okay... RANDOM FACTS ABOUT MAX - PART 2

I went on deep analysis mode this time to try and say all of Max's little nice and cute moments I know of.. Pls take notice, tho!! I'm not trying to flex or anything, I'm just a simple peasant girl on Maximilian's kingdom for a long time and it happens I have FBI blood in my veins 😭 so It's all gather on my brain and hard drive lol SO! I'm just answering this ask with a lot of thought and care so you can know more about Max and how he is even more awesome than you think!!! (And just in text form, cause Max doesn't need to be tagged on more personal stuff on IG (there’s too much illegal fishing at my tumblr pond already! 👏). It’s probably weird to know certain things, yes, but at least I'm respectful, I'll never bother him with this kind of stuff). Well, enjoy the bible below to end up knowing very little about him, still haha.. Just some more small facts.

- Max was at a barbecue just yesterday. It was someones birthday from the set of his new movie. He drank his beer, like usual, idk about the meat.. there was wurst and chicken.. I'm not sure if he's trying to be a vegetarian or not (after that thoughtful video he posted) 🤔.. maybe he didn't eat it, I don't know!!

- a little while before the start of this shooting, he was at the Baltic Sea filming for the series he's gonna be in (just one episode again! Don't get your hopes too high lol he's gonna be a security guard who disappears mysteriously, so....)

- He helped his friend renovate his house a few weeks ago!! How could I forget that on the first post.. Then, he had to go to Hesse for the movie shooting, and his friend had to call another friend to come help him lmao damn

I think I could describe some videos I have then... at least there's some cool and funny stuff. (Friends himself tagged in the past and cast friends)

- Max's dad went to the same uni as him. Also, he voiced a police officer on the phone in a short film Max wrote and directed all by himself (he didn't act on it, but he was also another police officer over the phone haha). Another thing, his dad made the official music for one of his plays.

- The falafel day.. his friend was taking a piss filming Max at the shop from afar and zooming in, saying "omg, guys! I found Noah from Dark! He's right there buying falafel" lmao, then, Max is just standing there looking all wonderful with his perfect hair and such, moving his hands, scratching his chin, ordering his food, and his friend talks some more, doing like a rough Max voice "yeah yeah, I'll have that one. Good, yeah". 😂

- the day he went to take a walk in nature. His friend asks him for a cigarette, he is denied, he goes to take it anyway, Max slams his cup of tea on the table and tries to take his cigarette back and it's all black and they're just laughing lmao (I love his laugh btw, so giggly!)

There was storys posted by Max himself.. so, maybe you saw it, but it's from before dark s3 came out.

- The pigeon storys. He filmed two pigeons chasing each other at the station, one always running from the other and he captioned "me trying to flirt" haha

- He screen recorded an ad for an app that deletes people from pictures and made some joke too, I can't remember exactly what he wrote, smt like "when you break up, but still wants to keep the picture" lol also, he unfollowed like 5 people that week after posting that... hm 👀

- he posted a video of him walking in the dark with really cold wind.. you can only see his hair flying around. Also, with a mask on, another chasing a cat in a big field, and that one drinking his coffee and eating his yogurt (you most likely saw it already)

- Ohh.. His friend was playing Max's drums the other day!!! Made a lot of jokes, it was obvious he was messing around in Max's room (maybe they live together, maybe he just waters the plants lol idk). Some of the jokes were "I've been playing this drums since 1921" and "the drums and me are a perfect pair, don't ever believe otherwise". I wonder what Max said to him.. he can't do anything about it, he's not in Berlin hahah. He has a little giraffe in his room, and other home decors (you can see it on his drumming video on his own IG)

- he likes to read on longer train rides.

- there's a video of him screaming inside a wardrobe after being jumped by a friend and one of him putting lipstick on with the song "I'm a sexy motherfucker" playing in the background hehe we was tagged, it was easy to find when there wasn't much tagged post.

- There's moments of ppl filming something/themselves and he just comes and photobombs it lol he is just like thiss 👏 showing his tongue and doing a funny face and such. One of those I saw it on the IG of a Das Boot cast member I actually already followed before.

- this group was such a blast. There's a few pictures, one of them he's in a dress, he has white stockings on til his thighs, heels and all haha lovely

- His improv-group.. he was almost in tears singing "I believe I can fly" with the group on their last day.. But he was happy! A mix of emotions. He loves everyone, he expresses his love a lot to people in general, he says it and adds heart emojis to make sure haha you can see his comments going on IG of his cast friends, especially from Das Boot (I followed a lot of the guys). So, about always commenting something funny on people's posts.. I didn't saved those, so I forgot most of it, but one I remember was that someone posted a video of a hailstorm and he was like "what are u doing, free ice!! Go grab them" hahaha

- Max has that Noah picture where he's peaking by a wall (you know that one Baran posted) printed and framed! 👏

- Things he’s pretty much always with: his backpack and his big headphones (it's always on his neck. At almost every picture, from every year, with different people etc. I was confused when he had normal headphones at his farm storys. Maybe he forgot them in Berlin 😭. Besides those, his rings, necklaces and bracelets (always, for years and years! Same ones, even). He uses frequently on premieres, as I saw it. Sometimes they also show up on his characters in his one-episode works!! Hahah is so nice when that happens. You can notice this on my screencaps.

- that pic of him that is everywhere now (with glasses, holding a bottle of champagne), I posted that months ago.. There's 2 more pics and 1 video. One pic, he is pretending the automatic lighter that's on the table is a Harry Potter wand (but I think I cropped the table, right.. I can't remember). This was actually posted by Max himself and he tagged his friend who took it. I went to see if they posted smt and there was a picture where he is literally biting the cork of that bottle off with his teeth Lmaoo, and one video.. he is talking on the phone trying to block the view with his feet.. this man!!

- he really doesn't care about buying too much unnecessary clothes and shoes and stuff. He is mindful of his things and the environment!! 

- there's a video of him on the set of Der Zauberlehrling, I need to recall where I got that from (maybe I could share this one. I'm not sure), he is messing with the broom and someone asks him "hey Max, what's that animal?" and points to the fluffy microphone. He says "it's a fucked up coala bear" (in english) 😂

Again.. I can't say names or anything, cause ppl are not mindful! Like.. I know I'm probably weird, but only for myself and my FBI office LOL I don't go over there and follow/reply to all these people’s posts and storys or take their videos and tag Max on them, this is just not.... nah. I'll always be respectful (yeah, some older stuff has gifs, cause he had like 10k followers, and 5 fans on tumblr lol But i never sent/tag him in anything personal directly.. that’s why i only posted on tumblr for the past year, in fact! I never thought things would be the way they are now a year later.. so, newer stuff it's not posted/gif nor ever will). I don't want him to be weirded out and like, disappear from IG!! I think about these things.. when people are being weird and stuff towards him. I don’t know how ppl don’t think about this when tagging him recklessly in random pictures and videos!!!

I wish he had more interviews, so we could know more proper stuff about him. (The few interviews he has are translated on my IG highlight. There's still an 8min interview missing there, cause I'm contemplating about being more of a bother to german speaking people, since I only have basic german..

[easyfoodnetwork]

Mushroom Hunting at the End of the World

Getty Images

While the rest of the country focused on something other than the forest floor, I started foraging for chanterelles

I’d been staring at the ground too long. That’s most of what foraging is, by the way. It’s ignoring the blue sky and the trees to focus your gaze on the dirt. I was walking through cobwebs, surveying the woodland floor for almost an hour, when I finally saw one: a tiny, pale chanterelle mushroom sticking up near the trail’s edge. It looked sickly, or at the very least elderly. Perhaps it was a sign that this section of the woods was untraveled, or maybe nobody had ever thought to pluck it from its habitat.

I peeled it from the ground with my paring knife and placed it into my netted, purple sack, which once housed grocery-store red onions. This lonely mushroom wasn’t the haul, mind you, but rather an indicator. When one chanterelle appears, more will follow. A few steps off the trail and they emerged in droves. Soon, my bag was filled with corpulent, spore-bearing fungi — big chanterelles with deep-orange hues and fantastical shapes, like something a Nintendo animator might draw.

Walking back with my giant bag of wild mushrooms, I ran into a couple, the first people I’d seen that day. We all scrambled to put on our masks at the distant sight of one another. “You get some chanties?” the man said in his familiar, spectacularly unusual Pittsburgh accent. “It’s a gold mine out there,” I said, trying unconsciously to disguise any hints of that same Pennsylvanian elocution. After they disappeared back into the woods, I put my mask in my pocket, where it stayed for the rest of the hike. For about 30 seconds, I was reminded that the rest of the world was focused on something other than the forest floor.

For about 30 seconds, I was reminded that the rest of the world was focused on something other than the forest floor.

A few years back I had tasted some wild mushroom conserva courtesy of my cousin, Andy, during a trip to my hometown in Pennsylvania. Andy is a budding locavore, a self-taught forager, and a mad scientist in the kitchen. His passion is infectious. Eighty percent of the meat he consumes, he hunts himself. He cures venison and butchers whole pigs in his garage.

That first spoonful of Andy’s mushrooms, meaty chanterelles salted in a strainer, then simmered in white vinegar with gothic-looking thyme and peppercorns, is preserved in my mind, so much so that I can access that memory whenever I want. The dim lighting in my parents’ dining room, Andy standing in the kitchen with his arms confidently folded, the sound of the Mason jar lid spinning loose, and the immense joy of my first bite — stocky chanterelle mushrooms, piquant vinegar, gentle aromatics, and then the brilliant opulence of olive oil, used to preserve the mixture.

I asked Andy if I could take a jar of them back home to Los Angeles, and he obliged. Every so often, I unscrewed the lid for a small bite. I would close my eyes and feel the cold air in my hometown. If I listened carefully, I could hear the train whistles in the distance. Those mushrooms became a portal to my hometown, a culinary object so emotionally resonant, so distinct from the food I bought at my grocery store in California, that I always longed to forage and conserve a jar of my own.

I began to miss rural Pennsylvania as the pandemic encroached into summer. Like a lot of people, I felt trapped in the big city, and so in June, I went home. In Pennsylvania, everybody’s houses are set at a distance, but everyone barters home provisions, ranging from venison pastrami to crooked cucumbers to gargantuan zucchini. The summer is when the Amish sell sweet corn, and when the berry farms open their orchards. The old-timey ice cream shops end their winter break, and people start roasting whole pigs and marinated legs of lamb. It was also not lost on me that a hot, wet climate is the ideal condition for chanterelles, and that this would be the perfect time to chase that dragon: the jar of preserved mushrooms.

Once I began mushroom hunting, the calm followed. I embraced foraging, an oft-maligned word after the chef-bro boom of the 2010s. If your reaction is to recoil, you’re not alone. Before my mushroom-hunting days, I usually laughed when I saw the word “foraged” on a menu or in a magazine. Oh, did you really go out foraging, m’Lord?

The first time I went, I rode in the passenger seat of Andy’s car, down the winding rural roads of Amish country. To be honest, I didn’t immediately connect with foraging; the experience felt educational. Of course, when you’re dealing with something that can be either good in a stir-fry, consciousness-expanding, or deadly, education is important. Poisonous mushrooms actually look evil, though, an offer of good faith from Mother Nature. They often have a sinister gray or red color, with warts and scales reminiscent of the toxic fungi in fairy-tale illustrations. Andy made sure to teach me enough that I didn’t end up hallucinating through the woods — or, worse yet, dead.

People in my hometown definitely don’t fall into the stereotype of knuckle-tatted, beanie-wearing “foragers,” but they’re pretty keen on the good mushroom spots. There’s an old Polish woman, for instance, whose stiff, territorial energy I can feel whenever I show up to Gaston Park the day after a rain. Because I didn’t want to move in on another gang’s turf, I had Andy show me a few of his favorite areas. Still, it didn’t feel right: These were his discoveries, not mine. I wanted to make my own way. I wanted that excitement of stumbling across a rare mushroom, of encountering a field of freshly sprouted chanterelles. I wanted to find my own mushroom haven, and so I went to Hell’s Hollow.

daveynin/Flickr

A view from the Hell’s Hollow Trail in McConnells Mill State Park, Pennsylvania

Hell’s Hollow is a national park and trail in New Castle, Pennsylvania, about a mile down the road from my childhood home. Apparently, it’s called Hell’s Hollow because some time ago a man fell asleep in those woods, and when he woke up, he was convinced that the place he was in was actually Hell. Are the woods deep and dark? Sure. Spooky at night? Yeah, of course. But, Hell? As in the place where sinners go and are tormented for eternity? Like, Satan-owned and -operated Hell? I scoff at the idea whenever I pass the old wooden sign for the trail. What kind of idiot would think that the woods is Hell? It’s beautiful out here. I mean look, there’s a flowing river. Why would the Devil keep a freshwater source in an eternity of suffering? Rule No. 1 of Hell must be to stay hydrated. Rule No. 2? No running.

Hell’s Hollow has been a constant throughout my life. When I was a kid, my mom and dad let me splash around the creek trying to catch minnows and small crabs. When I was 10, I gleefully collected rocks and declared that I was going to be a geologist (my family would be disappointed). As teens, my friends and I smoked shag weed and smashed cans of Mountain Dew together like Stone Cold Steve Austin there. The point is, I’ve been wandering around Hell’s Hollow my whole life, and it never dawned on me that I would ever find myself foraging there. But sure enough, it was my spot.

I did not expect hunting for mushrooms to clear my head the way it did. People say that about prep work, by the way. They say that peeling potatoes and kneading dough lets the mind wander and alleviates stress. But, to me, prep work is just that: work. Dicing onions pierces the eyes, lemon juice stings, and I will always associate chopping parsley with the incoming threat of a dinner rush at one of my restaurant jobs. When people say that cooking soothes the mind, they’re not taking into account all the people who do this shit for a living. What are those people supposed to do to get away from themselves? For me, I found that wandering in the woods alone with a sense of purpose was exactly the thing I needed to weather the fire tornado of anxiety the pandemic had produced.

The act of foraging, a completely unchanged activity in a pandemic, possesses the acute ability to make me forget about the state of things entirely. Specifically, it was easy to forget about a global virus. Hunting for mushrooms in the woods alone is already distanced; there are no guidelines to follow. Walk down the street in Los Angeles and you’re immediately reminded that restaurants are shut down and live performance spaces are shuttered. But in the woods? Go ahead — sneeze full force in any direction you please. Let off some steam, pal. You’ve earned it. Sure, I had a mask, but it stayed in my pocket on the off chance that I ran into another human being, though I was more likely to spot a deer.

When I’m hunting for mushrooms it feels like I’m achieving something tangible.

This wasn’t just a way to pass time, mind you. These weren’t nature walks I was taking. There’s a sense of ambition at the core of mushroom hunting. Purpose, the thing so many of us have felt without this year, I suddenly possessed. When there’s purpose, there’s a sense of reward, and when I’m hunting for mushrooms it feels like I’m achieving something tangible. All my energy is focused, my aim clear. Instead of staring at the ceiling in my studio apartment, I found myself scanning the ground for edible treasure. The dopamine you receive from finding a cluster of chanterelle mushrooms in the damp woods is immense, somehow both frivolous and survivalist. There’s a real sense of childlike treasure-hunting tied to foraging.

Take the elusive cauliflower mushroom, Sparassis, which is as rare as mushrooms come. They grow sporadically; their appearance is psychedelic and aquatic. It looks coral in a way, like a living, breathing self-sustaining organism that belongs at the bottom of the ocean. Jarring, then, to find one surrounded by leaves and mossy logs. The mushroom itself is wavy and ethereal, with petals like a flower. It’s so rare that when Andy and I found one, he jumped in the air with excitement. For seven years he had been hunting for a cauliflower mushroom, and he finally got it. His triumph felt like my triumph, and in a way, it was. Later, I fried the petals of the cauliflower mushroom in oil and ate them salted. The texture was outstanding and the flavor delicate, like a homemade noodle but with the specific earthiness of a fungus. “How many people are eating a cauliflower mushroom right now?” I thought.

I felt like jumping in the air like Andy when I spotted that lone, feeble chanterelle in Hell’s Hollow. To reach that first chantie was a hero’s journey, past a path that leads to a dazzling waterfall, down a steep hill, across a stream, and through a tunnel of decaying trees. The air starts to cool down and a trained nose can begin to smell the faint notes of mushrooms in the air. Clusters of chanterelles appear like small towns; they are golden trumpets that politely announce their presence with colorful glee. Oyster mushrooms grow shelf-like on the sides of trees, and chicken of the woods, these endlessly useful and tasty orange half-moons, light up your eyes like a gorgeous sunset. That’s the thing about wild mushrooms — once you see them, you can’t unsee them. After an education in foraging, you’ll be forever scanning your surroundings, trying to manifest treasure.

As I carried back my sack of mushrooms that first time, I thought about that man who woke up in Hell’s Hollow in the night. How must he have felt? Aimless, one would assume. Probably searching for a way out of the darkness. Disoriented, without a clue where he might be in relation to the outside world. Maybe that’s what Hell is. Maybe it’s quite simply feeling lost and alone. The pandemic can feel like that, as though you’re traversing an endless dark wilderness hoping to catch a light in the distance that’ll guide you back to society. But is that a new feeling? Hasn’t it always been that way? Maybe all of life has just been wandering in the dark.

Anyway, I’m glad to be walking through the woods with a purpose.

Danny Palumbo is a comedian and writer living in Los Angeles.

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/2JUbLZq https://ift.tt/3korg8w

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While the rest of the country focused on something other than the forest floor, I started foraging for chanterelles

I’d been staring at the ground too long. That’s most of what foraging is, by the way. It’s ignoring the blue sky and the trees to focus your gaze on the dirt. I was walking through cobwebs, surveying the woodland floor for almost an hour, when I finally saw one: a tiny, pale chanterelle mushroom sticking up near the trail’s edge. It looked sickly, or at the very least elderly. Perhaps it was a sign that this section of the woods was untraveled, or maybe nobody had ever thought to pluck it from its habitat.

I peeled it from the ground with my paring knife and placed it into my netted, purple sack, which once housed grocery-store red onions. This lonely mushroom wasn’t the haul, mind you, but rather an indicator. When one chanterelle appears, more will follow. A few steps off the trail and they emerged in droves. Soon, my bag was filled with corpulent, spore-bearing fungi — big chanterelles with deep-orange hues and fantastical shapes, like something a Nintendo animator might draw.

Walking back with my giant bag of wild mushrooms, I ran into a couple, the first people I’d seen that day. We all scrambled to put on our masks at the distant sight of one another. “You get some chanties?” the man said in his familiar, spectacularly unusual Pittsburgh accent. “It’s a gold mine out there,” I said, trying unconsciously to disguise any hints of that same Pennsylvanian elocution. After they disappeared back into the woods, I put my mask in my pocket, where it stayed for the rest of the hike. For about 30 seconds, I was reminded that the rest of the world was focused on something other than the forest floor.

For about 30 seconds, I was reminded that the rest of the world was focused on something other than the forest floor.

A few years back I had tasted some wild mushroom conserva courtesy of my cousin, Andy, during a trip to my hometown in Pennsylvania. Andy is a budding locavore, a self-taught forager, and a mad scientist in the kitchen. His passion is infectious. Eighty percent of the meat he consumes, he hunts himself. He cures venison and butchers whole pigs in his garage.

That first spoonful of Andy’s mushrooms, meaty chanterelles salted in a strainer, then simmered in white vinegar with gothic-looking thyme and peppercorns, is preserved in my mind, so much so that I can access that memory whenever I want. The dim lighting in my parents’ dining room, Andy standing in the kitchen with his arms confidently folded, the sound of the Mason jar lid spinning loose, and the immense joy of my first bite — stocky chanterelle mushrooms, piquant vinegar, gentle aromatics, and then the brilliant opulence of olive oil, used to preserve the mixture.

I asked Andy if I could take a jar of them back home to Los Angeles, and he obliged. Every so often, I unscrewed the lid for a small bite. I would close my eyes and feel the cold air in my hometown. If I listened carefully, I could hear the train whistles in the distance. Those mushrooms became a portal to my hometown, a culinary object so emotionally resonant, so distinct from the food I bought at my grocery store in California, that I always longed to forage and conserve a jar of my own.

I began to miss rural Pennsylvania as the pandemic encroached into summer. Like a lot of people, I felt trapped in the big city, and so in June, I went home. In Pennsylvania, everybody’s houses are set at a distance, but everyone barters home provisions, ranging from venison pastrami to crooked cucumbers to gargantuan zucchini. The summer is when the Amish sell sweet corn, and when the berry farms open their orchards. The old-timey ice cream shops end their winter break, and people start roasting whole pigs and marinated legs of lamb. It was also not lost on me that a hot, wet climate is the ideal condition for chanterelles, and that this would be the perfect time to chase that dragon: the jar of preserved mushrooms.

Once I began mushroom hunting, the calm followed. I embraced foraging, an oft-maligned word after the chef-bro boom of the 2010s. If your reaction is to recoil, you’re not alone. Before my mushroom-hunting days, I usually laughed when I saw the word “foraged” on a menu or in a magazine. Oh, did you really go out foraging, m’Lord?

The first time I went, I rode in the passenger seat of Andy’s car, down the winding rural roads of Amish country. To be honest, I didn’t immediately connect with foraging; the experience felt educational. Of course, when you’re dealing with something that can be either good in a stir-fry, consciousness-expanding, or deadly, education is important. Poisonous mushrooms actually look evil, though, an offer of good faith from Mother Nature. They often have a sinister gray or red color, with warts and scales reminiscent of the toxic fungi in fairy-tale illustrations. Andy made sure to teach me enough that I didn’t end up hallucinating through the woods — or, worse yet, dead.

People in my hometown definitely don’t fall into the stereotype of knuckle-tatted, beanie-wearing “foragers,” but they’re pretty keen on the good mushroom spots. There’s an old Polish woman, for instance, whose stiff, territorial energy I can feel whenever I show up to Gaston Park the day after a rain. Because I didn’t want to move in on another gang’s turf, I had Andy show me a few of his favorite areas. Still, it didn’t feel right: These were his discoveries, not mine. I wanted to make my own way. I wanted that excitement of stumbling across a rare mushroom, of encountering a field of freshly sprouted chanterelles. I wanted to find my own mushroom haven, and so I went to Hell’s Hollow.

daveynin/Flickr

A view from the Hell’s Hollow Trail in McConnells Mill State Park, Pennsylvania

Hell’s Hollow is a national park and trail in New Castle, Pennsylvania, about a mile down the road from my childhood home. Apparently, it’s called Hell’s Hollow because some time ago a man fell asleep in those woods, and when he woke up, he was convinced that the place he was in was actually Hell. Are the woods deep and dark? Sure. Spooky at night? Yeah, of course. But, Hell? As in the place where sinners go and are tormented for eternity? Like, Satan-owned and -operated Hell? I scoff at the idea whenever I pass the old wooden sign for the trail. What kind of idiot would think that the woods is Hell? It’s beautiful out here. I mean look, there’s a flowing river. Why would the Devil keep a freshwater source in an eternity of suffering? Rule No. 1 of Hell must be to stay hydrated. Rule No. 2? No running.

Hell’s Hollow has been a constant throughout my life. When I was a kid, my mom and dad let me splash around the creek trying to catch minnows and small crabs. When I was 10, I gleefully collected rocks and declared that I was going to be a geologist (my family would be disappointed). As teens, my friends and I smoked shag weed and smashed cans of Mountain Dew together like Stone Cold Steve Austin there. The point is, I’ve been wandering around Hell’s Hollow my whole life, and it never dawned on me that I would ever find myself foraging there. But sure enough, it was my spot.

I did not expect hunting for mushrooms to clear my head the way it did. People say that about prep work, by the way. They say that peeling potatoes and kneading dough lets the mind wander and alleviates stress. But, to me, prep work is just that: work. Dicing onions pierces the eyes, lemon juice stings, and I will always associate chopping parsley with the incoming threat of a dinner rush at one of my restaurant jobs. When people say that cooking soothes the mind, they’re not taking into account all the people who do this shit for a living. What are those people supposed to do to get away from themselves? For me, I found that wandering in the woods alone with a sense of purpose was exactly the thing I needed to weather the fire tornado of anxiety the pandemic had produced.

The act of foraging, a completely unchanged activity in a pandemic, possesses the acute ability to make me forget about the state of things entirely. Specifically, it was easy to forget about a global virus. Hunting for mushrooms in the woods alone is already distanced; there are no guidelines to follow. Walk down the street in Los Angeles and you’re immediately reminded that restaurants are shut down and live performance spaces are shuttered. But in the woods? Go ahead — sneeze full force in any direction you please. Let off some steam, pal. You’ve earned it. Sure, I had a mask, but it stayed in my pocket on the off chance that I ran into another human being, though I was more likely to spot a deer.

When I’m hunting for mushrooms it feels like I’m achieving something tangible.

This wasn’t just a way to pass time, mind you. These weren’t nature walks I was taking. There’s a sense of ambition at the core of mushroom hunting. Purpose, the thing so many of us have felt without this year, I suddenly possessed. When there’s purpose, there’s a sense of reward, and when I’m hunting for mushrooms it feels like I’m achieving something tangible. All my energy is focused, my aim clear. Instead of staring at the ceiling in my studio apartment, I found myself scanning the ground for edible treasure. The dopamine you receive from finding a cluster of chanterelle mushrooms in the damp woods is immense, somehow both frivolous and survivalist. There’s a real sense of childlike treasure-hunting tied to foraging.

Take the elusive cauliflower mushroom, Sparassis, which is as rare as mushrooms come. They grow sporadically; their appearance is psychedelic and aquatic. It looks coral in a way, like a living, breathing self-sustaining organism that belongs at the bottom of the ocean. Jarring, then, to find one surrounded by leaves and mossy logs. The mushroom itself is wavy and ethereal, with petals like a flower. It’s so rare that when Andy and I found one, he jumped in the air with excitement. For seven years he had been hunting for a cauliflower mushroom, and he finally got it. His triumph felt like my triumph, and in a way, it was. Later, I fried the petals of the cauliflower mushroom in oil and ate them salted. The texture was outstanding and the flavor delicate, like a homemade noodle but with the specific earthiness of a fungus. “How many people are eating a cauliflower mushroom right now?” I thought.

I felt like jumping in the air like Andy when I spotted that lone, feeble chanterelle in Hell’s Hollow. To reach that first chantie was a hero’s journey, past a path that leads to a dazzling waterfall, down a steep hill, across a stream, and through a tunnel of decaying trees. The air starts to cool down and a trained nose can begin to smell the faint notes of mushrooms in the air. Clusters of chanterelles appear like small towns; they are golden trumpets that politely announce their presence with colorful glee. Oyster mushrooms grow shelf-like on the sides of trees, and chicken of the woods, these endlessly useful and tasty orange half-moons, light up your eyes like a gorgeous sunset. That’s the thing about wild mushrooms — once you see them, you can’t unsee them. After an education in foraging, you’ll be forever scanning your surroundings, trying to manifest treasure.

As I carried back my sack of mushrooms that first time, I thought about that man who woke up in Hell’s Hollow in the night. How must he have felt? Aimless, one would assume. Probably searching for a way out of the darkness. Disoriented, without a clue where he might be in relation to the outside world. Maybe that’s what Hell is. Maybe it’s quite simply feeling lost and alone. The pandemic can feel like that, as though you’re traversing an endless dark wilderness hoping to catch a light in the distance that’ll guide you back to society. But is that a new feeling? Hasn’t it always been that way? Maybe all of life has just been wandering in the dark.

Anyway, I’m glad to be walking through the woods with a purpose.

Danny Palumbo is a comedian and writer living in Los Angeles.

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/2JUbLZq via Blogger https://ift.tt/38Dk0DK

[theexleynatureblog]

Veganism for Conservation

Wikipedia defines veganism as “ the practice of abstaining from the use of animal products, particularly in diet, and an associated philosophy that rejects the commodity status of animals. An individual who follows the diet or philosophy is known as a vegan.”

This is different than vegetarianism, which is a non-meat diet. Vegetarians still use animal products like eggs and dairy, while veganism does not. Some people that practice veganism extend the philosophy to their clothing, not wearing leather, and sometimes even wool. 

A lot of us have probably interacted with vegans on the internet in posts such as this:

Personally, my interactions with people who practice veganism have been limited to glimpsing internet brawls like this. Because of this, vegans get a bad name. I’m sure Christians can relate: that one wild-eyed priest going on about how homophobia is a sin. He may speak for all Christians, but he cannot represent them.

My point of this is, going into this post, please approach veganism or vegetarianism with an open mind. This post is not hating on vegans, and it is not trying to convert anyone to veganism. By pointing out the strengths and weaknesses of vegan and non-vegan philosophies, I hope to increase understanding.

Where Veganism Succeeds

When it comes to images like this, vegans and vegetarians are sometimes the first to call out animal cruelty. This is not without substance. This PDF article from the University of Kentucky covers some of the issues very well. The main issue is Confined Animal Feeding Operations (CAFO) or “factory farms”.  The ultimate goals of the factories are ‘cheap food’. Animals are kept in confined spaces, and given antibiotics and growth hormones to counteract the spread of diseases and parasites (in some cases it doesn’t work). Ironically, some of these drugs are outlaws in the UK, due to the adverse human health effects. Factory farms are a monopolized industry free of heavy regulations of other large-scale operations. Though the FDA and USDA oversee inspections and health regulations, it only helps so much. The Animal Welfare Act of 1966 does not extend to farm animals.

A common response is “Shut down farms!” But it’s not as simple as that.  The next article covers the Pro’s and con’s of farming. Farms are run different in different places of the world, and always full of contradictions. Livestock can improve the health of prairie grasslands, but also overgraze them. Animal manure can improve soil health and pollute rivers. While places like America need less meat, poor families in Cambodia may need more protein in their diet. I whole-heartedly support shutting down CAFO’s, but farming in general. Small-scale family farms are a great example of farming with ecosystem and animal health in mind.

One problem with holding animals indoors - even if you feed them well, make them comfortable, keep them from getting sick - is lack of mental stimulation. No species on Earth processes the world the same way. Cows don’t think they same way humans do, but they are living animals designed to do certain things.  A video I watched last year for my animal behavior class (If I could find the video, I’d add it) followed a group of hens brought from a factory farm to a new free-range home. A series of experiment were set up to observe their behavior. When presented with building materials, the hens proceeded to build a nest - even though a nest was already made for them by the caregivers. Animals have inherent behaviors that they will carry out if giving the opportunity. This may not have any impact on the health/quality of the meat or products, but it can give the animals mental exercise and therefor reduce stress.

Recent years have brought in increased in what is dubbed the “locavores.” Locavores is basically a person who eats locally, or within a 100mile radius. They may buy more produce from farmers markets, or get their meat from hunting and fishing locally. (Minnesota has a bag limit of 5 whitetail deer. A successful hunter could stock up food for their family for an entire year without ever buying meat from a grocery store!). Food handling, processing, and transportation takes up a lot of our yearly energy costs, not to mention food shipped from another country is going to be more expensive, and sometimes, less fresh.

The Locavores Movement wasn’t exactly pushed by vegans, but I’m going to include it here because it’s a win for everyone. After WWII, agriculture was becoming more commercialized. Big, industrial farms with lots of land and machinery was out-competing small family farms. Later on, the 60′s and 70′s sparked a ‘back to the land’ movement (a big time for environmental policies). It encouraged relationships between communities and local farmers. Though many small family farms are still financially struggling, the Locavores movement is increasing, as people are becoming more aware of where their food is coming from and their dietary health.

Where Veganism Fall’s Short

Animal anthropomorphization - defined as ‘ the attribution of human traits, emotions, or intentions to non-human entities’. Giving animals human-like appearances such as walking on two legs, fingers, eyebrows, and having them think and act like humans. This is present in any Disney cartoon regarding animals. Bambi is the most famous, and even created what is known as “Bambi Syndrome”, a belief based on the movie that paints nature as a garden of Eden with no natural predators - which is grossly inaccurate.

Anthropomorphization is not inherently bad, I enjoy watching Disney cartoons and sometimes its fun to imagine animals acting like people. However, there are people who seem to believe than animals really do process the world exactly like people do, and their interactions with the environment and other animals are similar to human - situations. Ex: a bunny rabbit and a deer chase each other around - they must be best friends! People forget that for wild animals, even suburban wild, is a constant struggle for survival. Humans partook in this once to, but now we have grocery stores and houses. We take for granted our ability to get food every day, and go home to a warm night’s rest. Animals don’t have that. Wild animals are focused 24/7 on survival - where to get food, are there any dangers around, ect. Once an animal has gained enough resources to survive day to day, then they can focus on reproduction. After that, in some cases, the focus is on rearing young. And then the cycle is repeated.

 The biggest argument comes down to the idea of death. Vegans argue that the act of killing animals is immortal because animals fear death just as humans do. This is true: the fear of death is present in all species. It is an important driver for evolution. Organisms are constantly coming up with new ways to avoid death caused by changes in the environment.

But death is still a really important thing.

Death is something that has to happen, because that is how nutrient cycling works. One organism collects material from the environment until it stops, and those nutrients are redistributed to other organisms. The longer an organism lives, the longer it holds onto those nutrients instead of redistributing them. 

The argument that ‘all animals want to live’ is obvious and does not address the fact that death is a natural and important part of our world - just as important as life. Why do humans make such a big fuss about it? Because we have the time and the resources to do so.

Giraffes don’t have time to sit around and contemplate life and death - they’re busy living. They’re busy foraging and migrating and kicking lions in the head. We have to remember the human experience of the world is unique to us - we are the only species that exploited resources so efficiently, we had the time and energy to build Society. Every word and concept in our mind is a imaginary construct, or translated from what we’ve seen in nature. This includes death - a natural process we witness and created an abstract essence around that both increases and diminishes our fears of the inevitable. (Sorry to readers experiencing existential crisis’ - hang in there, take your time. This really is mind-bending stuff when you think about it). Death didn’t have a name until humans created one. We created stories of Grim Reapers and Angels and Demons. We see shadows out of the corner of our eyes and call them ghosts.

But, do we have a right to cause the death of other organisms? Well, in nature, what is a ‘right’? Does the gazelle or the leopard have a greater right to live? My arguments may see really heartless and objective, but I am a biology student, so I have to look at this from an ecological perspective. Why do we look at the animal world through a tight lens of human understanding when we now have to tools to see more? How can we assign human concepts to a world that exists beyond our understanding?

One of emotions we have created do to the development of society is ‘guilt’. Its possible this emotion exists in other animals too, such as a mother who couldn’t protect their young. Guilt has evolutionary advantages of strengthening social bonds, and inciting a change of behavior. But humans are unique in that we extend this guilt beyond our immediate families to multiple other species. Pet owners may experience this when they accidentally step on their pet’s paw. 

This philosophy of including other species in our perception of the world is amazing, and very important. Aldo Leopold, a professor of ecology at the University of Wisconsin, wrote in A Sand County Almanac that extending human ethics to the land and its animals was essential for conservation. We need more people involved in biology and environmentalism, but we need them to have a proper understanding of life and death processes of other animals.

Wild animals deal with death much more often than humans do, and not in the same way. An article from Stat News claims half of Americans now die at home in hospice care. I can’t hypothesize numbers, but its same to say that a lot of people, especially in rich countries, get a ‘gentle’ death - in bed, surrounded by family members, eased with pain medications. Animals don’t get that. The quickest, non - human way for animals to die is by being kill by something else. Lions tend to bite the jugular of prey to asphyxiate it. The animal is dead by the time the lions start eating it, but it did not die quickly and peacefully. It’s last moments were being chased by lions, having lions dig their claws and teeth into its body to knock it down. It will take at least a full minute or two to suffocate the animal before it dies. Imagine the last thing you see is a lion biting into your neck - that’s terrifying!

Some deaths are quicker - think of birds picking up ants or insects, quickly crushing them in their beats or swallowing them whole. The thing is, as mammals, we can’t really relate to insects on an emotional level, so that example doesn’t get us far...

Non-predatory causes of death are disease, parasites, starvation, injuries, and old age. Older animals are at risk for all of these combined. A wolf with a broken leg may be fed by the pack for a while, but eventually have to be left behind and starve to death. There are no gentle deaths in the animal kingdom.

Ironically, the fastest and least painful death animal can experience from humans are euthanasia, and a gunshot (as long as the shot is lethal). Euthanasia is common for pets and livestock by first putting them to sleep, and then injecting them with a lethal drug they cannot feel. Its the closest thing to a human dying in a hospital bed. 

Gunshots have the potential to be the least painful and the most painful - depending on the skill of the hunter. A ethical shot to the heart or brain means that the animal will be dead before it even feels the bullet enter its body. That sounds a lot nicer than being chased or ripped apart by wolves, or stumbling around, infected by CWD.

Shortcomings of Non-Vegan Philosophies

Hunters and anglers don’t have all fail-proof ideas either. When it comes to conservation, America tends to prioritize animals useful for human consumption - as in, harvesting or observing. “Game” animals, like deer, elk, grouse, and waterfowl, have most of the public’s attention and protection. “Non” game animals like reptiles, amphibians, and invertebrates, are overlooked and at greatest risk for extinction due to lack of funding. 

Americans in general, eat too much meat. A quick Google search pulled up multiple articles that said the same thing. These articles are not pushing vegan/vegetarian philosophies, they are approaching the problem from a healthy diet standard. This article from Popular Science covers the American heritage around meat and animals that dates back to colonial times. In medieval Europe, many of the large game animals like stag and bison were gone due to overhunting, and the remaining wild lands were reversed for nobility sport hunting. Important predators like wolves and bear were also removed due to fears and superstition, so, the ecosystems of Europe were...a mess. When settlers came to America, they discovered a land of bounty, and developed a ‘take whatever you want’ philosophy that led to the extinction of the passenger pigeon, and near extinction of the bison and turkey. We eventually realized our mistake and worked up some protection, but still have a ways to go. 

Is Veganism helping conservation?

Yes and no. It has it strong and weak points. The strongest, like I said, being pointing out the flaws of factory farms. However, the belief that replacing animal products with plant/synthetic materials will help the planet is troublesome.

The picture is one that comes up when Googling ‘soil degradation’. The land is so dry, it is cracked. The vegetation looks dead and dying, and the soil color itself is a light sandy brown - lacking the deeper shades that indicate the presence of organic material, essential for soil organisms and plant growth. Soil degradation is a problem all around the world, appearing in various forms. It’s leading cause is poor management of agricultural fields. A vegan lifestyle means greater dependence on these farms, but there is never any mention of this problem.

Vegan or not, as an American, I believe it is in our best interest to eat less meat - not totally get rid of it, but have more balanced diets. Soil degradation is a problem for everyone. Luckily, soil scientists are at work discovering new ways to put nutrients back into the soil and lock them in, increasing the health of the soil ecosystem. The plants and animals that depend on it (including us) will be healthier, and some of these techniques can even take greenhouse gasses out of the atmosphere. The Soil Conference at Gustavo's Adolphus College brought in some of these speakers. Video are available on YouTube, and posted to my blog.

A trademark of veganism is refusing authentic leather. It is replaced by synthetic and plant based materials called ‘pleather’, ‘faux leather’ and ‘vegan leather’. 

Some sites say these terms are interchangeable, but some say they’re each a little different. Leafy Souls defines ‘pleather’ as leather made from plastic. This is a big problem, because plastic materials, when washed, release micro plastics into waterways. The major problem is these plastics aren’t as easily identifiable are water bottles washed ashore on the beach. Not a lot is yet known about these pollutants, but we have found them everywhere - including inside our bodies.

Luckily, not all vegan leather products are made of plastics. Alternatives have been made from plants, leaves, cork, and even stone!

The big argument against leather and fur products is - it is cruel to kill animals just for there skins. And I actually agree with this. I was never one to buy into the fashion industry, and personally, I think it’s a little outdated, and pointless. 

The process of factory made leather from cowhide is a bit disturbing. The manufacturing of leather is contributing so some major environmental issues like the release of greenhouse gasses and water pollution. Some questionable chemicals are also used to treat the leather. 

The good news is livestock are not being killed solely for their skin. The cattle sent to slaughter are the same cattle that we get most commercial leather from. Of course, this doesn’t really comfort anyone heartbroken over the commercialized treatment of animals.

Leather manufacturing is also being linked to child labor and poor warehouse conditions. It’s a common American business practice to send labor production oversees to places labor is cheaper - cheaper because workers are paid less for longer hours in poor conditions. The leather industry is not alone in doing this. How we change this? Boy-coting certain products is one way, but some of these companies have monopolies on products. A book by a Michigan State University professor discusses the growing monopolization of food products.

How do we solve problems like this? I don’t know, but something this complex needs a just - as complex solution that may take years to undo. 

Fur

Minnesota got its early start as a center for fur-trading between Canadian pioneers and native tribes. Unfortunely, the luxury that was fur turned the market extremely competitive. Since nature is not built for capitalism and competitive markets and commercialism, the fur bearer populations of the state took a dive. (Luckily, all have now recovered).

Fur markets were as bad as market hunting in terms of conservation, but unlike the latter, fur trapping is as persistent as ever today. Thanks to protections and regulations, trapping is able to persist at nearly the same capacity as it was in the 1800′s without threatening a population. (Also, there are significantly less people partaking in trapping).

Personally, I do not care for killing animals solely for the fur or leather. I would prefer to trap animals that also provide food - like rabbits. My believes are that if you kill an animal, you use as much as you can from it - meat, skin, and maybe even some of the bones. Its a way to pay respect by making sure the animal didn’t die for no reason.

Like leather, fur has synthetic replacements. However, I could not find as much environmental information. The main material for faux fur is acrylics, which are basically plastics that do not degrade when released into the environment. It is another source of micro plastics. 

Manufactured fur, like real leather, is treated with chemicals like formaldehyde to keep from degrading. Naturally, after discovering this, I Googled health affects of wearing real fur. Problem 1: I couldn’t find a trustworthy website. The websites that came up were strongly anti-fur. I wanted to find information from a neutral website, like a college university article. Problem 2: I could not find anything. I expected to find articles about odd rashes or allergic reactions, but there was non. Instead, I re-discovered an article I used in a previous post about vaccines. Vaccines actually use doses of formaldehyde in them. It’s a scary substance, because we automatically think about it in the process of embalming bodies, but the truth is, it has many practical uses that are safe to human health. Any substance can be harmful or helpful, it all depends on the dosage and chemical makeup. I was reminded that formaldehyde isn’t as scary as everyone makes it out to be. It is actually naturally produced in our bodies, and it probably doesn’t have any adverse effects to being added on our clothes.

Another problem arises when questioning the affects of formaldehyde in the environment. When we wash our clothes, dirt and chemicals end up in our water systems, including micro plastics and formaldehyde. The usual dosages of the chemical is to small to cause us individuals adverse health affects, but the story can change when dumped in large qualities. Our tendency to dump large amounts of waste into confined areas is not natural - animals tend to discharge (biodegradable) waste evenly across a habitat, or at least in quantities than can be broken down. The way humans discard waste in large quantities means that basically anything - including caffeine from our coffee consumption - can have adverse environmental effects. So, the problem of releasing formaldehyde is not on the chemical itself, but more on our system of waste treatment and pollution in general.

Conclusion

I am overwhelmingly tired of the vegan vs non-vegan argument. The more I see people pointing their fingers at each other, the less I want to partake in either one of their ideologies. Great minds think alike but fools seldom differ.

I believe it all comes down to balance. No matter how we exploit resources, there is going to be a downside. Vegan or non-vegan, there is an up and down to every choice. We have to work together and find a middle ground.

If we completely stopped using animals today, there would be changes. CO2 emissions would drop a little, but they may change sources. The same amount of people would need the same amount of food, and 1/3 of that food would come from a different source. There may be more habitat loss from increases agriculture farms, and come communities may became protein-deficient.

If the opposite were to happen, and we increases animal products, there would also be adverse effects. To feed those animals would also require more agricultural land. Factory emissions could rise, along with health effects of too much red meat, like increased cholesterol. 

The fact of the matter is, we all kill animals, directly and indirectly, simply by taking up space. The things that make you you - the proteins and carbons and lipids and nutrients - came from another organism. The fact that you have them now means something else is denied them. The cars we drive, the fields we plow, the pollutants we throw out, those are all killing animals as I type this. It sucks. I absolutely hate it. It has happened for the past millions of years, but right now, we are doing it at a faster rate than anything before us.

I cannot fully support veganism in regards to animal ethics, due to the tendency of anthropomorphization and biological misinformation. But I due support the legitimate environmental concerns, and I think a lot more people need to understand them as well.

[littlemisssquiggles]

Pinehead Headcanons: Oscar's Longest Memory

I’ve been meaning to share this headcanon ever since I discussed it with @miki-13​ a couple weeks back. So in light of the highly anticipated Schnee Dinner Party episode tomorrow, I figured now is a good time as any to share this new theory of mine for my favourite freckled farm boy turned little barn prince.

One thing I've been curious about for this season (or the Atlas Arc in general) is how exactly the PLOT is going to reintroduce Ozpin returning from his isolation. Speaking for myself, I don’t wish for Oz’s return to be just be him randomly coming to Oscar’s aid again when he’s in danger. Nor do I wish for Oz to just magically pop back into the story and instead of having everyone taking responsibility for the negative consequences their past and recent actions have done while using that to make amends with each other and start anew---it’s just Oz alone apologizing for what he’s done while the heroes get away with not even a slap on the wrist.

I don’t think it would be fair if Oz is the only one to apologize. While I understand that Oz made mistakes in his past, our heroes aren’t exactly innocent themselves. On the contrary, this season alone proves that the heroes are no different than Oz in their current predicament with Ironwood. Thus I’m still banking on this leading into the heroes realizing that they too were in the wrong for how they chose to treat Oz following the revelation of the whole truth. I’m still hoping that this experience with Ironwood is enough to finally help everyone understand why Oz chose to handle things the way he did after spending some time in his shoes. That way, once everyone reunites, they’ll be on the same page with one another and as I said, be able to start fresh and rebuild their previous trust in one another based on what they all learnt from this experience.

That being said, in regards to Oscar---one thing that I’ve been saying is that I believe Oscar is the key to repairing the severed bonds between Ozpin and his team. Right now, Oscar is caught in the middle of all this conflict. He seems to be the lone mutual party who isn’t biased towards one side. Meaning that in spite of his growing good rapport with the rest of his team, that doesn’t mean he isn’t willing to trust Oz again. His remark of “Oz looking out for everyone in his isolation”  back in V6 sparked my certainty in this regard.

My theory has always been for Oscar to reconcile with Ozpin first within his mind. From there, Oscar would bring Ozpin out of his isolation and be prepared to speak on his behalf to help convince the others towards all of them making peace.

I still believe in this hunch. However for most of V7, there hasn’t really been much indication of Oscar attempting to reach out to Oz within his mind. So again I’m left pondering on what could be an interesting way to do this given the current plot development we have so far for season.

This brings me to my discussion with Miki. We both shared the same idea of perhaps…Oscar will have an unfortunate run-in with Tyrian Callows. Tyrian will sting Oscar and fall into a comatose state which will then lead to Oscar going on a journey to find Oz within his mind.

Since I’ve been quoting plot threads from the Little Prince tale in reference to Oscar’s story for RWBY, there is a part in the story where the Prince was stung by a snake before he could reunite with his beloved rose on his home planet. The presumption is that the Prince was killed by the snake; though according to my research, the story more alludes to the Prince’s death rather than directly saying it.

So all that in mind, here’s my idea for the next episode and the episode afterwards:

I think something detrimental needs to happen to Oscar again in order for to heroes to realize how wrong they've been about Ozpin.  

The last time we had a CH8 episode as the last episode of the year, it concluded on Oscar disappearing as a result of Jaune’s outburst after he had learnt the truth.

So imagine if …there is a major attack at the Schnee Dinner Party during which Oscar ends up mortally injured from an attack meant to kill Ironwood. Let’s say…Jacques planned to have Tyrian murder all the members of the Atlesian Council who had been invited to the party. That way, in the end, Jacques will be the only surviving Council member and will no longer have anyone standing in his way of getting what he wants. All of Atlas will be under Jacques’ reign.

Let’s say…Tyrian successfully manages to slaughter all the Council members except Ironwood. All because at the last minute, Oscar had saved James by pushing him out the way allowing himself to be Tyrians’ target instead.

Speaking of the General, I’m also curious as to what it will take to set Ironwood off and go into his own downward spiral. Despite implying that he wasn't going to end up like Lionheart, I think we can all come to same conclusion that this part of the General’s story is definitely in the cards at this point.

Leonardo gave into his fears and betrayed his allies to join Salem. And while Ironwood won't sink so low as to join Salem, I think he's more in danger of becoming more like her and losing his own humanity if he honestly considered a 'lack of humanity' as an asset to Salem's conquests.

 The last time Salem struck, Ironwood lost Ozpin. CH7 is the second time Ironwood has hinted at wishing Oz was still around. It's very evident that James misses his old friend and I'm wondering if there is a part of him that low-key blames himself for Ozpin's death too.

Just as how if anything were to happen to Oscar on the General’s watch with the poor boy being placed at death's doorstep in an attack that was meant for James, I think that would devastate James just as much as Oz's death did since he has been spending more time with Oscar; getting to know him personally.

Not to mention, Ironwood did promise Oscar back in the second episode that, quote, “He will be safe in Atlas”. So imagine how distraught Ironwood would feel if that promise were to be broken yet again.

I have a feeling that Oscar may be used once again as a catalyst to advance the third act of the plot. I could be wrong about that but I can't help but feel like one of our main heroes will be a victim to whatever Jacques had planned with Watts.

Last time for V6, I was right on the money with Oscar running away. So…will I be right again about something big happening at the party and Oscar being an unfortunate victim caught in the crossfire?

Only time will tell. However I actually wouldn’t mind if something that were to happen for the episode. Mainly because I feel like should Oscar were to get seriously hurt, it could lead to the following things:

Ruby realizing the error of her actions: The idea I had with this was that, while at the party, Oscar will once again confront Ruby on the matter of revealing the whole truth to Ironwood. However Ruby once again shows reluctance with this and she and Oscar end up arguing over the right call. During their heated quarrel, Ruby says something to Oscar that she will ultimately regret. Let’s say…Ruby reveals that her distrust in Ozpin, blaming him for everything which then leads to her confessing that she may never trust him again.

This revelation greatly upsets Oscar since, Oz is a part of him and there is a chance that he may even become him someday. So by extension, Ruby saying that she distrusts Oz and will never trust him again meant that she doesn’t trust Oscar either. Although Ruby tries to take back what she says, the damage had already been done.

The Little Prince had officially had enough his little red rose’s behaviour and just like in the original fairy-tale, Oscar leaves Ruby with her last words to him being that she doesn’t trust him…right before Oscar gets seriously hurt and on the verge of death. As far as I know, the Prince’s true rose never got the chance to see him again since he died before he could return to his home by the fangs of the Snake character.

And  similar to how the Rose didn’t realize her true feelings for her Prince until he departed from their planet, what if…Ruby didn’t realize how much faith she did have in Oscar until he was mortally wounded by Tyrian and on the verge of death?

 Oscar’s Journey to Oz in the form of him going to find Oz in his mind. Now we can get into the real meat of my post. Let’s discuss Oscar’s Longest Memory:

Okay, so as I mentioned before, my concept is that Oscar is mortally wounded by Tyrian Callows in a killing blow that was meant for Ironwood. After that, Oscar falls into a coma with all of his allies worrying whether or not he will ever wake up again.

While in his comatose state, Oscar finds himself trapped in a continuous loop where he keeps reliving the very last days he spent back home on the farm with his family---all leading up to the day he was supposed to leave with Ozpin to begin his journey to Mistral.

Let’s say…in the memory, Oscar never met Oz. As we all know, Oscar wouldn’t gotten the encouragement to leave the farm if Oz hadn’t spoken to him that first time. And with Oz presumably still in isolation and his presence no longer there to guide Oscar towards his true destiny, Oscar just goes about his days like normal. But the entire time, while Oscar is reliving his final days at home, the way its depicted is that, despite being home behaving like he’s never left, Oscar couldn’t help but feel the entire time like he was forgetting something. Forgetting something important that he was supposed to do. Or rather, meet someone he was supposed to?

I even have this idea of Oscar having a similar experience to Ozma in the Lost Fable during his lifetime with Salem as Diggs.

Remember that scene from the episode where Ozma is looking at a reflection of himself in the window of his and Salem’s home castle when his other half---I believe it was Diggs speaking to Ozma here---asked him “What are we doing?” which in turn snaps Ozma out of his confliction.

I’m imagining a moment similar to that Oscar is looking at himself in the mirror---the very same mirror down in his barn where he had first heard Ozpin speak to him. I’m picturing Oscar looking at his reflection, back in his old farm boy threads, wracking his brain to figure out what’s happening to him and why he felt so strange---like he was forgetting something very, very important. At first, all Oscar saw was his own reflection only for his mirror copy to suddenly ask him “What are we doing?”  

Since Oscar’s current qualm seems to be his conflicting feelings regarding the Merge, I’m imagining a moment where Oscar is standing almost at a crossroads within himself. Like picture Oscar coming face to face with his past self---his old farmhand self.

Let’s say…in his longest memory, the one sure-fire way for Oscar to wake up from his comatose state is for him to leave the farm and start his journey.

Perhaps even in the real world, there is this conflict going on where if Oscar doesn’t wake up from his unconsciousness soon, he could potentially die or something along those lines, just to amp up the stakes. So the others---his teammates, his friends are desperately trying to do whatever they can to wake Oscar up. To make him open his eyes.

Meanwhile in Oscar’s mind, he’s fighting his own internal battles on whether or not he should leave. In his mind, Oscar trapped home on the farm wondering if leaving was the right choice. Because that’s how this all started. With Oscar leaving the farm.

So it’s a scenario where Oscar has to leave but this time, rather than it being Ozpin telling Oscar he has to leave (and not really giving him much of a choice), it’s Oscar telling himself that he has to leave. Like maybe at first, Oscar believes that the person telling him to leave all the time---this boy in the mirror who looks exactly like him---is probably Oz trying to communicate with Oscar and help him escape this memory. But to Oscar’s surprise. It isn’t Oz. It’s Oscar himself---the part of him that made up his mind that he was going to see through on his promise to help his team no matter what---that was telling him to leave. This time, it’s Oscar’s own choice that he made on his own. Not just because it felt like the right thing to do. But because it was a choice he now believed in.

With this idea, I’m envisioning a scene where Oscar is standing face to face with his past ---Farm Boy Oscar back in his old farm boy threads who is actively chastising Oscar for even wanting to leave home since there was no good for him outside.

Basically imagine …Oscar’s past self being the embodiment of all of his concerns for the future; his doubts about himself, his doubts in his place on the team, his worries whether or not anyone actually trusts or even cares about him, his worries about just being ‘another one of Ozma’s lives’ to live and die in vain.

Here is this version of Oscar---with his own face and in his own voice, practically screaming every negative thought he’s been silently holding back from admitting to himself for so long.

“…We were a fool for leaving home. You think they actually care about you. You heard them. They never saw you for who you are. Of course they never trusted you! 

They don’t know you! They never knew you! You didn’t really think they’d accepted you into their group. You never had your own place. To them, you’re just another one of his lives and pretty soon, they’ll forget all about you.

Stay home Oscar! Don’t leave! This is where you belong. At least this way, you get to stay and be yourself again. This is what you truly want. Trust me. Because who knows you better than you…”

And somehow by doing that, by facing himself and hearing himself admit his own fears, it what makes Oscar’s choice all the more significant. He needed to leave. So basically, in a nutshell, Oscar yells back at his old self that this wasn’t who he was. I mean, it used to be and that part of him will always be there because it is a part of him. However Oscar has also accepted the other side of him---the side that he shares with Oz.

So in the end, Oscar makes up his mind to leave home. But not without Oz. So after dealing with past, Oscar goes and finds Oz. The two souls reunite deep within Oscar’s mind. They even have a chat and ultimately, Oscar convinces Oz to return to the others with him. Even extends his hand to Oz---as neat little call-back to what Oz had told him back in V4.

Because while the farm with his family and his old memories of his past was Oscar’s home back then (and not even the Merge was going to take that away from him) he eventually also comes to terms with the fact that his new home was with his team and he needed to reunite with them to fulfil his duties to humanity by working to stop Salem and her forces. So basically the memory ends with both Oscar and Ozpin walking through the gates of Oscar’s old home, returning to the real world.

And when next Oscar finally regains consciousness---as he opens his eyes, he awakens to find himself surrounded by everyone who had all eagerly been awaiting his return. And it is from this moment, folks where the reconciliation begins.

That’s my idea.

I know the likelihood of something like this happening in the canon is not really there. Nonetheless, I’d still like to think that something like this could’ve been cool to see done in the show. Especially for Oscar and Ozpin.  

Most of all, I was hoping for a future moment where the audience could’ve seen Oscar meet Oz for the first time within his mind. We never exactly got an interpretation of what the inside of Oscar’s mind looks like.

Somehow, this squiggle meister is envisioning Oscar’s mental dreamscape being an endless plane of grassy fields overlooking a beautiful sunrise since that time of the day seems to be most associated with Oscar.

It was a sunrise during the first scene we were introduced to Oscar’s character back in V4 and it was also sunrise when he left home and began his journey.

Now I’m imagining Oscar and Oz just sitting in a field watching the sunrise since this was Oscar’s lingering memory of his home. It’s a memory that Oscar shares with Oz, all before the little barn prince takes the old wizard’s hand and leads him back to reality where their friends were all waiting for them.

I think something like would’ve been real sweet for Oscar and Ozpin’s story. Like I said, I don’t think we’ll really get something like this for show. But nonetheless, it would’ve nice and for what it’s worth, I hope you all at least like it as a headcanon.

More Squiggles’ Pinehead Headcanons

~LittleMissSquiggles (2019)

[doctor-apocalypse]

Wildflower// Apocalyptic World

My legs burned and ached as I ran , my arms bleed as I passed through the thick branches of the pine trees, my heart was about to exploded on how fast it was beating against my chest but I pushed myself to run faster as I got a glimpse on the left of me to the reason on why I was running

  The adrenaline was pumping my veins making every inch of my body forget how my feet were aching. The feeling of fear was in the back of my head getting louder and louder but I couldn't let that take over me

"Aria!" my head whipped to where I had been called seeing an exact copy of myself slightly behind me

 Her panicked eyes looking at me as I nodded trying to calm her down -that we we're going to be fine

"come on where almost there!" I yelled my voice coming out horsed as I tried to turn to her direction but the trees only let me run forward , I started to recognize where I was in a few feet we'd be close to a rocky wall where I knew was safe; As we reached it I helped her up before getting myself up , clinging on the wall as I made it up getting help to pull me up the top as I looked down to the pile of moans and decaying bodies trying to get us as they stared up at us with milky dead eyes

  The flesh from their faces slowly rubbing off leaving me to see their bones , some barely had anything. The limbs hanging by thread just dragging along or other who were just a piece of meat crawling down towards the commotion

"God that went better than I thought" my sister laughed laying down on the half dead grass around us before taking her long brown hair from the pony tail it was in , my hands went in her bag she dumped beside her digging in until I found a can of beans

 Risking our lives for a few cans of beans was what what we did everyday -Normal for us

   sometimes it can be fun

"thank God cause I didn't even think it would work" she gave me wide eyed stare before laughing as I popped the lid of the can with my knife holding it to her  -she  did most of the work on stealing them while I just ran around being the carrot on the stick for the corpses

"honestly it was a bit cool"

 See fun. Distracting a bunch of corpses that's what I did everyday to survive

" cool? The end of the world isn't cool Aria" it's been a few months since the world came to shit , a virus plagued the living like we were nothing causing millions to fall dead in matter of weeks before we could even defend ourselves or find a cure the dead came back eating what was left of us.

 To be honest I only thought the zombie type of shit happened in movies, series and books but I was proven wrong when one day my parents got infected and tried to eat me and my twin sister.Fist time killing a creep as well and wasn't the last.

  Anna was always the smartest even in a crises making us pack what we needed and leave our childhood home and bolt from the city to the country side , we hided out for a few months in an old farm house but not only did we have to worry about being killed by those corpses but other humans. The one's you hear in the news. The one's that will try everything to get their hands on

They were worse than the undead

But we survived. We learned how to survive, now everyday we learn how to fight for ourselves. To fed ourselves, to clean ourselves.

 We only had each other -we we're going to survive this together; right?

"it's not the fun cool but it's cool cool" she rolled her honey eyes at me again as she handed me the unfinished can. We were identical twins the only difference separating us was a scar on my nose from when I let a bookshelf land on my face when I was six other than that we had the same brown hair and pale skin and honey eyes making our mom's job of keeping track who was who very hard

But we all knew she was the better then me in every single way

"you are so weird" I gave her a full mouthed smile making her turn away in disgust ,she was on her feet now pacing back and forth on the small clif as she looked around with that old map we found a while ago  "we still have a lot to go but it's gonna be night fall in a few hours"

"we can stay here , were high enough they can't reach us or be above us" I looked around us we had a small patch of rock grass thing , if we were quiet enough during the night the dead would think we left and just wonder off leaving a few for us to kill

"I hate this"

  She looked down before cringing and stepping back , she had a slight fear of heights but she'd rather be here then down there. I took the small blankets from our bags setting it down so we could be more comfortable during our time here

And finally get some sleep after 13 days without a proper night

"how long until we get to Ohio again?" I asked playing with knife as I stabbed the soft patch of grass next to me , the last time I checked we were at the boarder of West Virginia well I still hoped we were since we left our state of Virginia like months ago

Virginia. It was hard to leave our state but there wasn't anything left for us anymore, the radio at the time was planning to destroy the whole city and we didn't want to stay to see it go down

" I don't know maybe a few months to my calculations" Ohio was one of the cities that didn't evacuated during the spread since the Tv crew keep saying it was a safe zone , we didn't hear anything about it after since our radio doesn't work anymore and that was 6 months ago

 We tried to change the battery but it seemed like nobody on the other end was alive to warn us if we should continue or not -we we're headed to eventual death or good people who survived like us

"sometimes I wonder if they were alive they could do what we do" she whispered in a sad tone causing me to hold my laugh in knowing exactly how they would react, I remembered their reaction when they found out about the infection

"we are going to die" I laughed at my mother as my father mumbled if he needed to go to work or not making my mom yell at him for not thinking about the bigger picture

"hell no ....well dad would cause he'd be down for literally anything" she laughed lowly agreeing , that dude ate a spider cause his brother dared him to the apocalypse would be easy for him "mom on the other half would die in 5 second just by seeing us eat that dog food" we were low on food so we ended up finding a supply of dog food that lasted us a month , not good times to remember

"it tasted like dirt , she can't even jump properly imagine killing those things"bless my mom's soul but honestly she'd be a goner in this world now " I miss them"

"I do too" I reached over to her grabbing her hand as we just laid in silence hearing the cracking and moaning from the corpses below us

 The moaning drowing the squeaks of the bats flying around and the commotion of the crickets not letting me forget they would be there when I woke up

it's never a dream

                                                    ---                                                                              

"if we continue rout 250 we'll be there by tomorrow" she looked down the map reading it as I looked at it trying to figure out where I should look at

I never really did good in geography and she loved it so she was responsible for us not getting lost again; since last time we ended up going in a loop since she keep forgetting were we where all the time

"lead the way captain" I saluted her as she just pushed me forwarded , we walked in silence so we didn't attract many dead beats but I still killed the ones that crawled towards me

 The silence was intoxicating, for a lot of reasons. I missed that loud noise of crowds even if I didn't like it I missed the sound of people, I missed people -The feeling of being alone in this world scare me but I knew people survived ;some people trained for these moments for all their lives maybe we should have taught like them

"we should give theses dead beats a name" I couldn't help it , it was too damn quiet and I was bored out of my mind and it was only 2 hours in our walk

Probably my sense of time was bad but the sun wasn't in the middle of the sky anymore.

"they are called zombie like in the movies" she rolled her eyes adjusting her bag

Zombies? We rarely did call them, freaks or creeps were most used between us and also asshole from her side when one spilled it's gut all over her shirt

"yeah I know , but come on we're are literally apart of a movie if you haven't noticed -we need a cool name for them like T-800 and walkers" I whined remembering how I keep joking that would never happen in real life, and boy how I was wrong

 How wrong everyone was for not taking it seriously and staying home like they asked -everything just turned over night without much of a small warning

"okay let me think you baby" I shut my mouth smiling at her waiting for her to think of something , I did call them dead beats but that wasn't like cool enough "cannibals? I don't know"

"we are not naming them Hannibal Lector" I laughed pushing her slightly making her roll her eyes at me

"who cares Aria , their the jaws of our life now we are in their waters now we just have to be careful not to get bitten" I let out a laugh of excitement before shaking her bag as she pushed me off confused

"jaw biters dude , you're a genius" she barked up a laughing on looking how stupid I was acting but I didn't care I was having fun -and even if the name was stupid

it was very stupid but you had to pass the time with stupid shit like this didn't you

"you are so stupid A" Anna yet again rolled her eyes at me turning to look at me with a mocking face as I looked forward smiling a bit seeing a small crowd of creeps coming our way

We'd try to make a break for it in the forest if it were larger but but it was only four of them which could be taken care of

"yeah but now I get to say there are two jaw biters coming our way"

I pulled my knife out as she did too running quickly to them grabbing their full attention as they snapped their jaw at us growling, as I got close to two from our right I kicked  their legs so it would break letting me plung the knife in their skulls feeling the knife crack it's way in until it reached their brains. Pushing them forwards slipping my knife out of it's head seeing them slump down to the ground with their milky eyes roll back into their head

That's when they actually die; pulling limb by limb will never kill them its always the brain that finishes whatever keep them alive

"do I have blood on my face?" I asked as she turned to me with splatters of black blood across her face , it masked well with the rest of the dried blood in her hair and clothes since we haven't showed in the last three months or so

The smell of death was reeking off more from us them the actual corpses

"nah it goes great with the rest of the blood" she joked as I gave her a thumbs up before whipping the knife clean on my old jean which were covered in guts and that were a little loose on me, I had to tie it with a shoe lace so it wouldn't fall

 I was getting more thin everyday my skin was sticking to my muscles showing it much than it should be and I couldn't do anything about it since food was getting more scarse for us

"shut up and walk" I breathed out before following her up the road putting the knife back where I took it as I felt it dig a bit in my heel since the only place it would hold was in my boots.

 The road covered in bloodly feet from injured or dead people who use to pass by here , the destroyed cars were a memory of the people who tried to escape but didn't make it seeing them bang their dead hands agaisnt the window of the cars

 Burned police cars evidence that their helped never helped, their bodies burned with the patrol cars -some were still alive but glued to the car as we passed ignoring their moans and growls

  Mother nature destroyed the human race but the animals propered out of it , as I saw deer in the middle of the trees grazing peacfully making my stomach growl in protest on the hunger strike the world was giving me

"I can't believe we didn't run into a gas station by now" Ana complained again for the 5th time the past half hour as she cursed the map she was reading like it would talk to her back

If she started to speak it to it , we'd have a problem I would know how to help my sister if she went crazy. She was already annoying and bossy in a good state of mind I dont know what she would turn into crazy

"relax, we might be near don't pysch out just yet" the joke didn't really tickle her funny bone as she just gave me a death glare making me shut up as I listened to her mumbled under her breath

My head was driving me crazy as I raked my nails down on it trying to get that feeling of itching out of my system but only made it worse -I probably got flees from that dog kennel we slept three nights ago

"oh god I am going to kill you if you don't stop that" I stopped clicking my tongue as she hit my shoulder rubbing before looking at something that catched my eye

It was heaven. It was art. It was a shell gas station in all it's glory and beauty

 "kill me later cause I can smell the pringles from here" I pushed her aside as I took off running towards the gas stations that had only a few creeps walking around , Ana stopped right behind me taking out her knife as I picked up a broom stick from the ground breaking it in half with my knee

Ouch. Never as cool as in the movies

"avengers assemble" she sighed at my joked before charging at the creeps as I followed plunging the sharp end of the stick in one's eyes and the other's chests keeping them very far away from me, I had two on the end of my stick as I kicked them off before cracking their skulls open with my combat boots soaking the blood in blood once again

I turned around to smack the stick agaisnt a guy's head making him drop but still growling as blood poured out of his mouth , scrunching my nose in disgust I stabbed him in between his eyes

"I bet this one had like 50 cats" Ana joked kicking a creep all in cat shit towards me as I finished it off laughing a little too much , I looked to see only three coming our way which I could handle on my own as I turned to see only two pacing around the covinience store

"get inside clear out call me if you need me , I'll take care of them" she nodded heading inside as I turned to the rest who were heading staright towards me growling as I dodged it grabby hands feeling it limp at the end of my stick as I took care of the rest

I breathed heavily taking my foot out of it's head holding the bile that rose to my throat since the woman seemed to had died in feces or something that I really don't want to know

"yo! Is it clear?" I whipped the blood off my face with my shirt as I looked around so see that the place was almost raided out , Anna was in the corner with her back towards me making me pause for a second before calling her again.The fear made the hair in the back of my hair stand up as I looked at her but then she slowly turned to me looking up with me with a guilty look in her eyes and a can of pringles in her hands

"you son of a bitch, you better hope that is not the last can " I threatened as she gulped audibly since she was eating MY favorite flavor, I almost killed her for eating the last pringle can and for scarying me to death

Just picturing my sister dying I-; she's not gonna die. We we're going to survive this together

"hey, look at this" she told me with a mouth full of doritos as I didn't give her a glance making her sigh loudly rolling her eyes at me with a tired groan

"stop being a pouty baby and look"

"what" I turned about glare before immediately frowned to see a few maps on the floor behind the counter. I kneeled beside her as I looked at the map seeing a few states with crosses out with a big red cross as other with green, yellow or orange , the writing was faded out making it hard to read

"are these places they've been?"

There was so much information on it like the person was in a hurry to write them seeing the writing faded out or it was in possible to read the handwritting. Not to mention the bloody spots all over the brown map

"maybe the red were they have been to? Since looks like it's the majority or" but she looked like even she questioned it but that wasn't the only thing that made a chill run down my spine

 That fear came back as the crunch in my stomach began.

"Ana I don't think it's were they've been but where they avoided" I cleaned a part of the dusty map were there was a red cross to the side with big bold letters 'keep out' , she didn't even have time to talk already on her feet running around the store finding things for us to eat stuffing them in her bag as I stuffed the maps in mine

If she was thinking like me we needed to get out of here fast and now before we get into something we can't fight out of

"we should head to West Virginia we to close to Ohio , whatever they were running from might be close to us" I nodded grabbing a few chips and shoving it in the bag as well , before slamming against her back as I tried to follow her out the door

"Anna?" that's when I heard it , the moaning and the slow and uneven footsteps multiple footsteps.

 The feeling of death was normal for me to feel everyday. To see death and consume it was normal. To see your body finally catch up with reality and slows down your body letting the feeling of being a cold ice bath run throw your veins

 The aches you've ignore are now pouding in your head , the bitter taste in your mouth as you tried to take that dry feeling inside it

 Death...

"Run" she breathed out looking at a sea of jaw biters heading to us

...it was much closer than I thought

I hope you enjoyed my story, I am on wattpad at daddy_kins if you want to read the rest of the chapters I am currently posting. Thank you for reading!

[erintoknow]

Something dumb

fallen hero: rebirth / retribution fanfiction. definitely spoilers here + putting my cards on the table with w i l d speculation about stuff we probably won’t get any solid information on until book 3 which... who knows how far away. But it’s more fun to do it like this then make a big nonsense theory post imo. i’ll be fucking shocked if i guessed anything right

uh... anyway! ~2.1k words [ao3]

–

This is novel; it’s almost eleven and you’re still not dressed. Just a bath towel. In someone else’s apartment. Julia Ortega is upending all the rules you’ve set to keep yourself safe. Can’t shake the feeling it’s going to be your downfall. Careless. Arrogant. 

“So explain this to me, again.” Julia is eating breakfast at the kitchen table, sausage and eggs. You watch her from your position curled up on the couch, arms resting over the back. She watches you back.

“Which part?” Try to smile, try to make it look natural, normal. Are you succeeding? You can’t know.

You try not to look at your arms as you sip the cup of coffee. Julia had insisted, given how little sleep you had gotten. Nightmares, always. You can’t run from ghosts. Can’t run from yourself. Wherever you go, there you are. 

Julia stabs a tiny sausage with a fork before waving it in your direction. “Let’s start with the basics. What actually is a re-gene?”

You bite your lip. “What actually is a person, Julia?”

She flinches, “I’m sorry. I mean like.. I know how people are uh, made. But re-genes? It’s more complicated than the official story, I’m sure.”

Stare into the coffee cup, watch the little swirl of creamer. “I don’t know,” you finally admit.

“You don’t know?”

“Do you think they tell us anything they don’t have to? Do you tell your hammer how it was made?” You snap back at her, slump against the back of couch, hold the coffee cup stretched out before you with both hands. “I know they use the same kind of vats to grow the… the bodies like they use now in hospitals for transplants. Just… you know, they do the whole person.” You perk up, “Actually, did you know – they’re in clinical trails right now for this SRS option that combines lab grown with genetic engineering from the patient’s own genome to neutralize the risk of rejection, and it’s looking really promising and–”

“Ari.” Julia has a hand up. “Focus.”

“Right. Sorry.” You close your eyes, heat crawling up your face.

“I mean, it sounds great. Just… one thing at a time?”

“Yeah.” You blow air across the surface of your coffee mug, set the creamer spinning again.

“So you really don’t know anything?”

“Well…” You flinch, glance up at the ceiling, then back to her. “I mean, I would listen in. Whenever I had the chance. They were pretty good about keeping their guard up, but I mean… I’m just a thing so…”

“You are not a thing, Ariadne.” She looks at you, full force intensity. You have to look away. Can’t meet that. “Don’t ever forget that.”

“…thank you.” You blink your eyes, can’t rub without risking the coffee. “Okay. Well. You know how if you flash clone someone, beside committing a felony you’ve essentially just created like, an adult baby, right?”

“Yeah…?”

“The autonomic nervous system still works. Some basic behaviors, but like, babies still need to learn even the most basic elements of fine motor control. You can flash clone a hundred of your best solider, and they’ll all loll their heads back, sprawled on the ground drooling.”

“That’s what the whole chip thing is for right?”

“…right. We’re not ‘human.’ Just AI-piloted meat robots.”

Julia sits there for a moment, fork in her mouth. Her mouth tugs down in a frown. “Wait,” She puts the fork down. “That’s a lot of super basic behaviors for a program to handle.”

“Well. That’s the secret isn’t it.” Your smile turns dark. “We’ve made a lot of progress in mod interfaces and basic AI routines to run interface between the brain and servos. But Re-genes predate all of that. We still can’t get good enough AI to do proper image recognition.”

“So how…?”

“You cheat.”

“Cheat?”

Take a moment, close your eyes, will your heart to stop pounding against your chest. “What kind of program already knows everything about how the human body moves and operates? A program so complicated that writing it by scratch is basically impossible?”

Julia looks at you. Does she get it yet?

Dive on regardless. Don’t look back, jump the window. “Do you know what cognitive mapping is?”

She shakes her head. “No… I’m not going to like the answer, am I?”

You purse your lips, a thin line. “N-no, probably not.” You shift on the couch, take another sip of the coffee, will your arms to stop shaking. Some pilot you are, this body always acting on its own accord. “It’s been a theory for ages and ages. But, funny, no one can ever seem to get funding to seriously look into it. I think China maybe just started doing their own research on the question?” The taste on your tongue turns foul, bitter. “I’m sure that will end well.”

“What is it?” The tone of her voice, she knows. She’s got the idea. God you feel sick.

“Cheating.” Another sip of coffee. “Scan a human brain. Translate it into an electrical pattern you can store on a chip. You can even make copies. Quantum effects mean the copies won’t be– can’t be perfect. But you can do it. And you get something you can plug back into a body and it’ll know how to operate it.” You pause, tilt your head. “There’s an adjustment period. Every body is, uh… different you know. The adjustment is lot shorter than waiting fifteen years for a baby to grow up though.”

“Ariadne… are you telling me that–”

You push on, you’ve stewed on this for years. If you stop now, will you ever have the courage to speak about it again? “Obviously I can’t say any of this is for sure. Just… inferences I’ve made. Research I did after I… you know, after I left. But– The processing, the mapping. It’s destructive. The original brain doesn’t survive the process intact. It can’t. And– and–” You swallow, wincing from the tightness in your throat. “You can use a brain that just… just died. But, a living one is better. Clearer signal.”

The blood is draining from Julia’s face. It hurts to see. Somehow it’s worse, seeing her grapple with it than it ever was for you, hitting her with everything at once. It’s taken you years to get to this point, and you still feel sick. “Like Athena I sprang from my father’s head. But I killed him in the birthing. Well…” You blink your eyes, hard. “Some version of me did? Or proto-me?”

“Ariadne… I’m sorry, but that’s…”

“I wonder… D-do I get my own soul or did I just– just steal my donor’s?”

There’s a long silence to that. That’s fine. There’s no way to answer that question.

“Do you have any…?”

“Of Zeus’s memories?” You shake your head. “I–I don’t think so. There’s a lot of mystery to memory but it’s not hard to locate where the brain stores it. And then there are… logic gates? Firewalls? Mirrors. Mirrors that keep that kind of stuff locked out. If– if they even leave it in there at all. The goal isn’t to resurrect the dead after all.”

“That’s… I don’t know whether to call that a mercy or not, Ari.”

“They get other benefits for doing things that way too.”

“Other benefits? What other benefits?”

“They– the farm, the directive, whatever, they think the hero drug results are, are influenced by your mentality. They already… borrow DNA from boosts to uh, ‘boost’ the re-gene’s chances of surviving.”

“Fuck. Does that work?”

“I don’t know.” Chew on the inside of your cheek. “I feel like there are still a lot that got… recycled. For no powers, or… bad powers.” You stare down, voice bitter. “But we’re not real people, so… who cares, right?”

“So… wait.” Julia frowns at her scrambled eggs, then looks across the room to you. “Does that mean there’s like… other versions of you?”

“Uh–” You look away. “I don’t know? You mean, like, from the same uh, donor?” Julia winces at the word. “Or the same body?”

“Both? Either?”

“I don’t know. It’s a creepy question, though. Isn’t it? Am I even the original ‘me’ out there?” You shudder.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s fine,” you lie. “You know what I think?”

“…what?” Julia watches you, her expression unreadable. What is she thinking? What is she holding back for your sake? Does she hate you yet? Disgusted by you? Horrified?

“I don’t think it matters?” You bite at the inside of your cheek again, “I don’t know. It’s not like... It’s not like I don’t wonder. Maybe I’m trans because my donor was a woman? Or just my chip was in a female body previously and it picked up something there? Maybe they screwed up growing my body in the vat? Maybe it was on purpose and I’m just another sick experiment.”

“Ariadne...”

“A-anyway, the point is: Descartes is full of shit and mind-body dualism is bullshit too. Whatever the... parts of me where before, I’m just me now. This body... this mind, you can’t separate those. It’d be.. it’d be easier if you could maybe, but...”

Are you going too fast? Saying too much? You don’t want to lie anymore but– Julia is leaning over the table now, propping her head up with her arms. “And you sure about all of this?”

You put the coffee mug down on the end table, rub at your eyes. “I’m not sure of anything. I‘ve spent maybe half of my life on drugs by this point and–”

“Drugs?” Julia cuts in.

“That’s a whole other story.” You scrunch your face. Fuzzy, half-faded images floating to the top of your head. “And– and they can alter your memory, by the way. Erase things they don’t like. Another ‘perk’ to being a chip. Don’t ask me how I figured that one out.”

Julia is up from the table now, walking over to you, around the couch. “This is a lot to take in Ari. I think… I think I need you to slow down. Let me process. Before I do something dumb.”

You glance up at her, watch her sit down next to you. “Something dumb…?”

“Yeah, like burn down city hall.”

That gets a laugh. “Oh this is bigger than just Los Diablos.” You let her grab your shoulder, pull you in against her chest. You can’t relax. Not now. The tension burning in your shoulders.  “But I… I understand. I’m– I’m really taking a risk here too you know.”

There’s just the beat of her heart against you, then– “Yeah. I know.”

“This apartment could be bugged, or the next one over.”

“It’s not, I promise you.”

  “Hell, maybe they’re listening in via your mods, or–”

She waps you on the shoulder, laughing. “Get out of here!”

You huff, “I’m serious. Do you know what they’re doing in there when you’re getting an upgrade?”

“Well…” She shifts the hand on your shoulder, rubbing your arm. “No. I guess not. Thanks for giving me a whole new thing to be paranoid over.” 

“Happy to help.” You lean into her.

There’s a pause then; “You know, if you’re right saying it out loud probably just screwed both of us.”

“Y-yeah. I’m sorry.”

“Stop. I asked you.”

“I’m sorry. For– for dumping all this on you. This isn’t even half of it.”

“I won’t lie Ari, it’s… hard to hear a lot of this.” Her voice is tense. Pained? Probably being truthful. You’re not sure how to feel about that.

“…I know. Thank you… for– for caring.”

“I’m just grateful you’re finally talking to me about it. Ari…” You can feel the words catch in her throat. You’ll have to prod them loose.

“What?”

“It’s just…”

“What?”

“I know I said I wasn’t going to make you stop but… maybe it would be better if you stayed low for a while? A long while?” She keeps rubbing your upper arm, fingers firm into your too-exposed skin.

“No.” Your voice is firm. You reach your hand up, pull at your hair. “I– I don’t want to hurt anyone Julia. Well,” You pause, wince. “Almost anyone, I guess. But–” You shudder, swallow down the nausea. “They have to pay.”

“Okay. I’m not going to argue against that, exactly. Just…”

“It can’t be enough to just… destroy the farm, either.” You narrow your eyes, glaring down at your legs, orange lines poking out from under the towel. “The–the very idea of the Directive needs to go down in flames. Every last cocksucking motherfucker involved needs their life ruined and their career on fire. They’ll wish they were dead.” You exhale, let the air out of your lungs in one long shaking breath. Realize your finger nails are digging into your palms. Let go. Try to let go. Swallow the pain. 

There’s silence then; “It doesn’t have to be you, Ari.”

You bite back a laugh. it’s like you’ve come full circle in a year. From begging Julia to retire and let Adrestia go, and now, her she is, holding you up. Asking you. To let it go.

You can’t do that.

“Nobody else cares.” You push back against Julia, draw your legs to your chest, hug your knees. “And I’ll never be safe. They’ll never let me be. They’ll never stop haunting me.”

“I care. And so will others, if you just let them.”

A ghost of a smile on your face. “That’s a nice dream, Julia.”

“This isn’t going to make your nightmares go away.”

You swallow, press your eyes closed, turn your head in towards the crook of her arm. “I… I know.”