#and how far my family has come

[tblsomedoodles]

I thought i escaped sims 4 but it's dragged my dumbass back again.

I hate this game. I need so many mods just to be able to just to fix it so i can play without being frustrated. but no matter how frustrated i get, i keep coming back : /

Anyways! Like my new little me? (i forgot what they're called. Avatar? *Shrug*) I'll put some more stuff (and doodles) about them under the cut

They're a candle! The body and oversize hoodie are all the wax and the undercut ponytail is the little flame (like Ember from Danny Phantom lol). Her feet are kinda goopy and her hands never show b/c the sleeves of the hoodie drip over them (sometimes driping off completely.)

i got kinda bored with my old one (drawing me but purple) so they got a little upgrade for my silly little personal doodles.

That is all : )

[starculler]

strap in for this week's fic flavor: the failsafe episode of season one of the young justice cartoon except the simulation just won't. fuckin. end.

(fics that inspired this at the end)

If I ever did sit down to make my own fic, I'd split it in 3 parts:

The Simulation: bits and pieces of the 40 years Dick lives after most everyone he knows has died

The Return: the immediate aftermath and healing from the trauma of having not-quite-actually lived a whole life only to wake up and find out it was all fake. nothing traumatizing about that whatsoever.

The Unintended Consequence: aka the twist I'd love to add and would hint to in the second part - finding out the simulation, through martian mind fuckery, pulled from the real world (and in many cases, from real minds). Dick meets a bunch of people he didn't think were real outside the confines of his simulated life. A bunch of rowdy, heroism-inclined teens across the years get to meet the sibling/friend/mentor figure they all dreamed up one night.

(actual idea snippets under the cut)

.

Dick Grayson is 14 and most of the world's heroes have died. He planned a suicide mission that left him the sole survivor of a doomed team he helped found. The invasion may have been stopped, but is this really the price he wanted to pay?

The first face he sees in the infirmary is Roy's, and he has to close his eyes and just breathe for a few minutes because for one painful moment he'd thought it was Wally. But this isn't the world where his best friend miraculously survived alongside him. This is the one where he got his best friend killed and didn't even give him the courtesy of following behind him. Behind them.

.

Dick Grayson is 27 and has lived longer without Bruce than with him. The invasion's anniversary is always a tough day for him, but that morning seems especially harrowing. He'll get shit for it later, but can't resist stepping out onto the balcony of the manor's master bedroom (Bruce's old bedroom) for a smoke -- his first since he'd promised to quit if Jason, just 15 then, did too.

"Bad habits tend to pile up," he'd said, a rueful quirk to his tired grin. He'd tapped the cigarette twice on the railing and added, lower, "and this one's especially nasty, huh."

He inhales, watches the sun creep across the horizon, and lets acrid smoke burn through his lungs for a long moment before blowing it out in a small cloud. His eyes water, but he doesn't cough. It tastes just as bad as it did the first time he smoked one, not even a year after the invasion and treading water as Robin proved insufficient.

There hadn't been enough heroes to go around then, and Dick had been trained by one of the best. It hadn't been fair, but it had been his plan that had ultimately stopped the invasion. His shoulders everyone's expectations fell on.

He takes another drag, then smudges the lit end against the rail he's leaned on when he hears a boot scuff purposefully against the roofing above him.

"Todd and Pennyworth will be upset with you."

He doesn't turn around. Damian doesn't jump down to join him.

.

Dick Grayson is 54 and wakes up in a room full of ghosts. He hears his long-dead father-figure tell his long-dead team about a simulation they weren't meant to win. A training exercise gone wrong and only half a day spent under their mentors' careful, if slightly panicked, supervision.

He looks at his hands, watching the way his gloves crease when he flexes them in and out of tight fists. He looks at his team, their eyes a little haunted but shoulders slumped with relief even as they grumble. Batman's heavy, gloved hand settles on his shoulder and the weight of it is a nauseating mix of foreign-familiar.

He opens his mouth. Closes it.

Tears prick his eyes behind his domino mask, and he tells himself the suffocating, acidic void building in his chest is just some leftover side effect of the ordeal and not the grief-guilt of outliving yet another family (no matter that they hadn't been real in the end).

.

Dick Grayson is 16-going-on-56 and well used to the coincidences piling up between his simulated life and the real thing. Some of it -- missions and villains he remembers cropping up -- he's marked for Bruce to review and sort as he pleases. Some -- security for the cave, team building anecdotes, and training regimens -- he's shared with the team. And some he keeps only for himself.

Tim is one of those. He knows it's not fair to the kid (so much smaller now than he ever was when Dick lived his simulated life), but he can't help being selfish just for this. Tim is the one kid he's sure he didn't make up, and if Dick's taken to babysitting the kid just to be near at least one member of the family he built for himself in the wake of the worst days of his life .... Well, anyone who says shit about it can happily stand in line to have their teeth kicked in.

Despite this, it still catches him off-guard when he sees a familiar face pop up in one of Bruce's reports.

Jason Todd, caught boosting tires off the batmobile, is nearly the same age now as he was when Dick met him. He stares at the words, but none of them really sink in beyond the kid's name and address. He's moving before he's even made the decision.

He's used to the world kicking him when he's down - lived it for 40 frustrating years. But he has Bruce again. And things with Tim have been so good. And he's always been selfish when it comes to family. If he could just see Jason. If he could just meet him. If he could talk to him.

If if if if if--

.

Inspirations:

Circles in Shattered Mirrors by InfinityIllusion

Fine (But Not Okay) by CharlotteDaBookworm

Verisimilitude by mutemelody

[theloveinc]

i don't really want to bc like. there's many reasons for me to stay but. i don't think this tumblr life is for me anymore

[rainingincale]

.

[nebulousfishgills]

As much as I love playing embrace Dark Urge runs (discussion in therapy pending), there's something so narratively satisfying about how a Resist Durge playthrough can go once you get to the Bhaal Temple. Your character steps into the ring with Orin, it's intended to be a duel, but odds are you're getting eviscerated pretty quickly. You then switch to one of your other characters in your party and throw an attack, effectively breaking the duel and setting the whole temple upon you.

(Adding a cut because this ended up being longer than I thought)

But, I think it's a very satisfying way to play. Your party members have grown fond of your Durge, seeing them as a friend, a family member, even a lover. They've watched you and your pain over your Urge and what it makes you do or want to do. Maybe you've slipped up once or twice, but you've been trying so hard to be the hero they know you can be, that Faerûn needs. So, when it comes time to finally face your demons and you're getting so horribly hurt in the process, they can't help but rush to your defense. It'll put all of them in danger, but it doesn't matter because they want and need to help you, their ally and companion.

Bonus points if you select your character's romanced companion as the savior/duel interruptor to make it extra delicious. They've fallen in love with you, stayed with you when your Urge craved their blood the most, maybe by this point in the game you've helped put their demons down as well. They see you in pain, a final valiant effort to overcome your Urge against the power of Orin, a whole cult, a god of murder himself. They want to protect you, save you as you saved them.

I'm also fond of the extra beauty of Astarion being your Resist Durge romance since it puts the two of you in very similar situations. Fighting against the will of your masters, finally defeating your demons with your newfound companions' help and being offered the greatest power you could ever fathom... only to deny it, ignore power in favor of your party and your love.

This isn't even mentioning just how goddamn good the Withers resurrecting you cutscene is. This skeleton in your camp with unknown and unfathomable power (also apparently supposed to be Jergal himself if I've done my research properly?) is able to bring you back to life, free of your Urge. The line along the lines of "Bhaal could only destroy what of you that he knew, but because you've grown past your Urge and become your own person, he couldn't destroy that new growth" is just so weirdly powerful narratively. Tav may be a default character for you to create upon making a new save file, but Durge is the canon protagonist and I think that entire scene shows it the best. It's a beautiful secondary climax of the narrative (primary being battling the Netherbrain of course).

And, perhaps it's just an oversight on Larian's part or something that'd be a bit difficult to work into the cutscenes mechanically, but I think that it could only get more impactful if your companions could comfort each other during these moments. Everyone and their mother wishes you could hug Astarion after he kills Cazador, but also imagine your romanced companion cradling your body after Bhaal kills you. It seems just a little odd that they all (meaning your party) kinda just stand around staring at your corpse, especially with how close y'all have gotten.

Idk, I have a lot of thoughts about this section of the game in this particular type of playthrough and some of them are hard to articulate into words. It's just such a damn good narrative peak and can really make you feel things.

I've completed I think two resist Durge runs and just hit this point on my third and it really stuck out to me this time (then again my new antidepressants are kinda fucking with me so that might be playing a role). I left it as my last mission before dealing with the Netherbrain and I think it helped build the anticipation of that moment. Everyone else has been helped by you, and now it's your turn to come into your own. I really felt so connected to my character walking into the temple, feeling like everything has been building to this, that regardless of what happens our suffering will finally end. And you have your party there to help you in your time of greatest need as you've done for them.

There's a reason this game was Game of the Year, the narrative is just so powerful and the replay-ability is just insane. I've beaten this game ten times, heading for my eleventh and it truly just never gets old and never fails to make me feel so many things so strongly.

[atopvisenyashill]

not an f&b aegon ii fan, not a hotd aegon ii fan, but a secret third thing (a fan of the aegon ii that only exists in my mind)

[agir1ukn0w]

me when I learned that the german govt is also funding Israel

[kaythefloppa]

Oh yay, we have new lions who we’re all definitely going to make prominent characters of in our fanfics. (Starts typing aggressively)

Here’s the link to the video these guys showed up in for anyone wondering.

[scattered-winter]

every day i kick a rock and bash my head into the wall because i'll never get to go on a big space adventure and become tightly close-knit with my new found family up there <//3

[perenlop]

theres something so odd about how team skull is characterized in the anime. like. in the games theyre a nuisance with a sad backstory to them and they take it out through rage, especially guzma. them teaming up with the aether foundation comes across as lusamine manipulating guzma tbh, like hes just a lackey to her

and then in the anime they water down how gross aether was by limiting the crimes to just faba being a dick instead of the entire foundation being complicit, and in return team skull has their backstory ignored for the most part and theyre perfectly willing to gang up on and hurt a six year old cause she told them not to be mean. like yes they were villains in the game but that just feels weird for them

[elftwink]

have to work on a project today and an unrelated thing happened that just made me so so so so so mad (just some irl personal stuff), which normally derails my entire day because i find it so hard to come out of the angry/upset state and tend to just circle back and obsess over whatever triggered it but! today after 20 minutes of that i had a council meeting about it (<- what i call my decision making process) the outcome of which was putting it aside (!!!) for later when i could actually talk about it and resolve it (!!!) & in the meantime we could just do other stuff.

local man exuberant and jubilated to achieve feats of basic emotional self-regulation and was seen excitedly telling reporters he "never thought this day would come" and began giving a thank you speech to nobody in particular. more on this story as it develops

[lululeighsworld]

decided to play the heirs of fate dlc this weekend (ive been meaning to for awhile; admittedly my knowledge of it all comes from browsing the wiki, and i really wanted to experience the anankos characterization for myself). this isn't even the part i was excited to get to BUT I AM REELING OVER IT..........FOR REASONS I WILL DISCLOSE IN THE TAGS (from part iv: light's sacrifice)

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

No but something I love is how fucking loyal Miklan really is (in Hopes specifically since we don't have enough information in Houses).

At the camp, he takes his job seriously. Very seriously. He doesn't act begrudging or like he's just doing anything by force. As the chapters go on he not only goes from relatively aloof to a full fledged commander (which is great development in that span of chapters btw considering how fast the story has to progress) and one who fights for Faerghus because he wants to (why would he reassure the player that he's going to, literally, hold down the fort? Why doesn't he flee when his life is in immediate danger despite that Dimtiri prefers his allies to flee and save their lives over sacrificing themselves? Why does he like helping citizens who had their lands destroyed by the war, despite being a bandit who used to plunge towns just like those?).

At any time when the Empire was attacking, he could've surrendered and even joined their side because of not liking Faerghus and its people... if he didn't like Faerghus and its people. Also, someone brought this up to me once that Miklan likely has family in the Empire still, because his mother was from the Empire. He had a perfectly good out that wouldn't even necessarily be considered treason to Faerghus, i.e. surrendering and going to the Empire to protect that side of his family.

He doesn't. He dies for Faerghus. It was both a matter of honor due to the fact that he was finally living the life he always should've been and wanted to be respected for that, and also his loyalty that followed in the past's wrongs being righted. No matter what you think of Miklan post disinheritance, he was the heir who was removed because he didn't have a Crest. All over just that, despite that Sylvain having a Crest never meant they didn't still have someone capable of fighting off Sreng invasions.

They had someone able to wield the Lance of Ruin, so why did it matter if he was officially the heir? Miklan felt like his life was stolen from him (and I'm not saying what he did to Sylvain was okay either). Dimitri gave him all of that back and he started to become loyal to Faerghus and its king because Dimitri was giving the chance even the man's own father never gave him from the moment Sylvain was determined to have a Crest.

What happened in his life before Dimitri had him brought to him as soon as he became king is, in a way, almost like it never happened as far as Miklan's behavior. It was obviously there at first, but over time it's like it never happened. That is, if someone met him and didn't know about his past, by chapter 9 they'd never even know he'd had that history. He was the person he would've been years ago if he hadn't been disinherited, which led to the mess that led to him being disowned (and he says he just "left", but Matthias doesn't mince facts. At all. If that had been the case he wouldn't just say he disowned him. He would admit Miklan ran away. That means Miklan claims he left as a means of coping and trying to convince other people that it was his choice and not forced on him).

Miklan became a lot more loyal than he's ever given credit for, both in the game and in the fandom. Gwendal did recognize it, but that's about all we're given.

Gwendal corrected himself when Miklan died, referring to him instead as Sir Miklan instead of the insults he was spewing during their fight which were very clearly pissing Miklan off; but Miklan kept fighting and defending the fort, not just because he wanted to prove Gwendal wrong but because he was here because he was pulled out of his life as a bandit. The people he was defending the fort for were the people who effectively gave him his life back.

Basically, he would've been there in that fort defending it anyway if he had lived the life he should have to begin with. If his value was acknowledged all along, he would've been defending the most important fort in Faerghus all along (if this exact scenario occurred and everything was the same except him being disowned in the first place). He would be there being the commander and fighter he was supposed to be.

Mind you, it was the king himself who gave him that chance, meaning the person who reigns over Faerghus and has the most power to change whatever the hell he wants - including how people with Crests and without are treated. Miklan was part of a fight to better their society and be part of the new generation taking over. Nobody could truly change things unless the king - the top power - had the thought to change them (not saying Lambert thought the political climate was good the way it was, but he clearly had other priorities and it didn't seem to be something weighing on his mind. He may not have even truly noticed the problems and power discrepancies because he was so focused on other things).

However, the moment the king thought to change all that old stuff, Miklan was one of the first people who came to mind, and one of the first people he took action regarding, to integrate into his new army (and he even mentioned completely rearranging his army and whatnot, and then we find out he had Miklan located basically right after becoming king. We had a two year timeskip and Miklan had been there for those two years because of how soon after Dimitri was crowned that he had decided to bring Miklan back and give him another chance).

If the king sought to change things and was taking active action to prove it, that was something Miklan could see and realize was actually going to happen. It wasn't a blind trust - he could see Dimitri was actually doing it. He had a reason to be able to trust him with this.

He was also able to trust the people who were watching over him, i.e. the people Dimitri had making sure he didn't revert back to any sort of banditry. Those people could have easily faked it, made up that he did something and that they had killed him on the spot. Dimitri trusted those people not to do that of course, but those people were not told to bring him to Dimitri if he did anything. They were told to apprehend him and kill him immediately (which is reasonable, given what he'd done in the past, and they wouldn't want to try to wait to get Dimitri over to wherever they were. If Miklan escaped in that time, they'd just have a big problem on their hands).

So that is to say, those people could've just faked it at any point and killed him. They didn't. They, like Dimitri, were willing to give him another chance provided he didn't do anything bad.

The same goes for Felix and everyone else who had qualms about him being allowed into their army. Dimitri explicitly stated if anyone had issues with his appointment as a commander to "by all means" kill him themselves. He literally made it an open option for his friends to just up and kill him if they truly couldn't forgive him (which at that point was more reasonable of a time because the war was still new and people didn't know if they could trust him with this specific appointment yet. By later in the story I don't think it would have been as reasonable for someone to try to kill him after he'd already been proving himself).

In other words, nobody did it. Everyone, literally everyone, backed off and respected Dimitri's decision (and technically Sylvain and Matthias' as well). None of those people, even when given open opportunity, turned a weapon on him. Not one. These people all gave him a chance. These are the same people he died fighting for, and for himself to be able to feel like he was fighting and dying for what he would have to begin with if he hadn't been disinherited - Faerghus and its people.

In the end Miklan was in both rank and heart a top ranking commander of Faerghus and he both appreciated it and knew he appreciated it. He was looking forward to the future Dimitri would bring, basically saying that he thinks Dimitri is a fool ("weak-willed") for it but that he now believes in it too. If anyone wants to try arguing those points, I have receipts as the young folk call them, fresh from Miklan himself about his feelings about it as spoken to Catherine and Shamir!

Miklan fought for the future he was hoping to see, and he died protecting that future. Again, not something he by any means whatsoever had to do. He was tasked with guarding the fortress, but was never told to lay down his life defending it. After years and years of being hateful and angry, he finally had some peace of mind and hope for what he could be. He was loyal to Dimitri in the end because Dimitri was loyal to him - that is, he kept his word and Miklan was able to thrive in Dimitri's society without being a bandit or having to worry about his future because of his status.

Like Dimitri said, the only thing holding him down by that point were his past mistakes. It was up to Miklan to do something about that for himself with the opportunity he was given to fix it. Dimitri said here, fix it, and Miklan said okay, and worked to fix it. For me the saddest part is that he didn't even get enough time to properly fix it and be able to be free of his past. He died for Faerghus though, with his dying words being that he was able to buy them time (to arrive and fight back against the attacking Empire). That's not something someone who holds a resentful grudge would say in their last moments. He was grateful he managed to buy the other fighters time, even though it cost him his life.

hopes was a dumpster fire a whole lot of times but its incorporation of miklan into the plot was not one of them. miklan fire emblem my love you will live on in my heart and in my fics. i am also deeply grateful to hopes for uh i guess hopes-canonizing (hopesonizing???) basically every one of my headcanons about him before the game came out.

[fictionadventurer]

"It looked like a good day for setting fence posts, and my mother said so while taking the biscuits from the oven. 'Some morning early, when I can get away, I want you to come with me along the edge of the hill in the wood-lot," she continued. "When the shadows of the trees begin to come down the slope, as the sun rises you feel the turning of the earth. You feel the whole globe under your feet rolling into the sunlight. . . . That's something I found one morning when I was driving the calves to pasture. I've been saving it up for you. I wonder if you've seen a more beautiful dawn in any of the places you've been.'

On my fingers I count the dawns I have seen--memorable, just in being dawns. Sleepy-eyed dawn from the Paris markets after a night of dancing; mist dawn against which I was just to late to see the minarets of Constantinople--all the fault of the stupid stewardess who didn't wake me in time; one startling moment of color on the hills around the Dead Sea before they went colorless in merciless heat; sudden dawn like a clap of light over the freezing-cold Syrian desert. Four dawns in twenty years. No, I do not know dawns as my mother does."

-- Rose Wilder Lane, "A Place in the Country" (1925)

[svtskneecaps]

literally it's 3am where i live and i'm on mobile but FUCK IT i haven't posted any actual writing in like a YEAR on this blog whose description include the words "I WRITE" and i can't tell if i'm even going anywhere with this so fuck it under the cut is the prospective absolute mess of the first chapter of the flipo family time loop fic. (for clarity, flipo family as in slime, mariana, and juanaflippa) this covers loop 0, aka the relevant parts of canon. words: 1630

parts of it i popped off with and other parts i hate; up to you to identify them. also the italics and other formatting got erased when i copy pasted and i'm re-adding all of it by hand so if i missed a spot, no i didn't. if i missed an accent on a letter in spanish that was a typo, if i missed a ¡ or ¿ that may have been on purpose.

oh and for obvious reasons, content warning for mentions and mild descriptions of child death and child murder. no blood, and most of it is a three word mention; i'd say the brief paragraph beginning "Tilín didn't scream" is most of the reason this warning exists.

Charlie Slimecicle stepped off the train.

He’d been hoping for a bright, sunny day to start their vacation, but was sorely disappointed. The portal had apparently taken them pretty far, since they’d gone from noon to night time. Talk about jetlag. They hadn’t even been on a plane.

“What happened to the other guys?” he wondered aloud as he stepped onto the platform.

“Yeah no clue,” Phil said, scanning the empty station. “Thought they’d meet us here.”

“Guys!” one of the Spanish speakers--Vegetta, he’d said, when they’d all met up at the first station--called, from a lectern at the wall. “There is a book!”

They crowded around as he read the instructions aloud--something about pressure plates, Slime wasn’t paying that close of attention. He was a little more preoccupied with making sure it only felt like his brain was dripping out of his ears. That would be kind of embarrassing.

Which was not to say that he wasn’t enjoying the constant onslaught of people talking over each other using words he may or may not understand. In fact, it was the opposite; he was frankly thriving in the absolute chaos that kicked back up around him as a timer appeared in the wrist communicators they’d been provided along with their tickets.

“Como se dice ‘we are going to die now’?” He giggled, chasing Phil and Fit to one end of the station.

“¡Vamos a morir!” shouted Spiderman, echoed seconds later by the black bear in the collared shirt.

Giddy over the high of attempting to use his high school foreign language for the first time maybe ever, Slime absolutely didn’t contribute much to solving the puzzle, and before long the sound of the timer ticking down was accompanied by a loud buzzing alarm.

“It’s been an honor!” he shrieked at the top of his lungs. “It’s been an honor!”

The bear ran past them again, shouting, “I’m going to die!” in English this time.

“Adiós amigos!” Slime yelled.

The countdown ended.

And then his communicator buzzed, and there was a video playing on the screen, showing a cartoonish yellow duck in front of a blurry beach stock photo. He skimmed it absently--some generic welcoming message and another side quest for them--distracted by Maximus audibly losing his shit laughing across the station.

“Come on, I’m trying to take a vacation, I gotta work now?” Fit complained. “This is ridiculous.”

Slime wanted to jump on that bit, but the message cut off with coordinates marred by static and the noise of the emergency weather alert system and he lost his train of thought completely.

“I got the English book!” Spreen called, holding it with two fingers like it had personally offended him.

“English leader,” Vegetta said, seeming to find that amusing.

“English leader.” Spreen laughed and flicked the book away. Slime stepped back but somehow it still nailed him in the chest.

“Guess I’m reading then,” he said cheerfully.

“In Spanish?” Maximus said.

“Um.”

Vegetta called something, backing across the plaza with the book open in his hands. Phil backed up to the wall.

“Here,” Phil instructed, “we’ll read it here.”

“Okay okay.” He flicked it open. “So we have to get water wheel planks--”

Their peace lasted a grand total of thirty seconds as voices suddenly began shouting, overlapping in chaotic chorus.

“What is that?” Fit demanded.

“Is that coming from the other side?” Phil stared up at the top of the wall.

“This is the thinnest thick wall I’ve ever seen,” Slime said, giddy laughter bubbling out of him again. “Is this thing made out of pencil shavings? If I sneeze on it, is there gonna be a hole?”

“Nevermind, we’ll read it over here.” Phil dragged them away again, but the Spanish speakers were dispersing into the trees.

“Forget the book,” Fit said, “follow them!”

(In the end it was explosives that took the wall down, which in hindsight was a precursor to how a not insignificant portion of time on the island was spent. The first day, however, it was just funny, much like everything else.)

(That was to say, the first first day.)

The communicator had indicated that today there was something special planned, so he made an extra effort to wake up.

“Morning Jaiden!” he called to his upstairs neighbor.

“Hi Charlie!” He could hear her farming through the wall. “Glad you woke up on time!”

“Well you know, you know, El Backflipo couldn’t miss it,” he joked, sifting through his backpack. “Got any spare food? I’ll trade you uno backflipo.”

“I have so much toast, come here and get some, free of charge.”

With a quick backflip and some toast to start the day, he popped open the map.

“There’s a lot of people down the wall,” he noted, their green dots so clustered they formed one. “Wanna check it out?”

“Yeah sure.” Jaiden tossed some seeds into a chest. “Do you know what this event’s gonna be?”

“I have no idea,” he admitted cheerfully.

She laughed. “Yeah, me neither. I guess there’s an egg involved, but that’s all I know.”

He dug around in his backpack for a paraglider, nodding along. “Yeah, yeah, un huevo, I get you.” Shuffling the landmine from Vegetta to one side, he yanked out his glider and threw himself out her window. “Let’s go!”

(nothing like getting struck by lightning to wake a guy up in the morning)

Slime fiddled with the communicator as he waited for the line of people to get through the ticket machine; he already had his own, a nice B for Backflipo. The new live translations still boggled his mind. He had to fight the urge to chant weird shit under his breath, just to see what the bubbles would say.

He paid a little extra attention when Mariana walked up to the machine. That guy seemed cool. They’d done that pequeño dormir together on day one, and he had a good sense of humor. Egg parenting would probably be funny.

He was thrilled to see the B for Backflipo on the ticket Mariana stepped away with, even if Mariana was decidedly less so. This was gonna be good.

(it was, and it wasn’t)

So, Mariana wasn’t exactly the coparent of dreams. Then again, Slime was pretty sure Mariana could say the same about him. In fact he was pretty sure Mariana had said the same, but in Spanish, when he wasn’t checking the translation.

It was great. They thought they’d killed a child immediately and then decided to fake their own child’s death to get away with it, and then confessed their sins to a bilingual angel and built a farm and then he buried himself beneath an improvised cross and went into a coma until his sins were forgiven, or something, except his sins weren’t forgiven in time to save his own child’s life.

And then Juanaflippa was dead. Dead at Mariana’s hand.

His bitch wife killed their daughter.

(Everything went faster, after that.)

Slime wanted to kill him.

Slime wanted to kill him for killing their fucking daughter, but of course, Mariana couldn’t even be bothered to be around to take care of her alive, never mind to pay for his crimes when she died by his hand!

(in a better world, his rage started and ended there. in a better world, the anger fizzled out with the lack of a target.

this was not that world)

There couldn’t be an Egg Event with no eggs.

If he killed them all, it would bring her back.

(in a worse world, he succeeded. in a worse world, the Egg Event ended there.

this was not that world)

They held a trial.

If he won, it would bring her back.

(in another world, he didn’t convince them. in another world, they left his daughter in Hell.

this was not that world)

Tilín was still before she hit the ground.

Tilín didn’t scream. Maybe they didn’t have time. It happened so fast. He was sure it happened fast. Almost too fast. But everything went so fast, now, even though Flippa was back. Yet, time slowed down for this, like a rubberneck driving past a highway accident, watching him desperately trying to shock their heart back into motion.

“YOU KILL MY BEST FRIENDS,” Flippa wrote. He begged her to understand. She wrote, “i can’t believe it.”

She wrote, “I HATE YOU.”

(in a better world, the error would have been caught in April instead of July.

this was not that world)

His daughter fell to his bitch wife’s sword. The same way. The next day.

They’d only just gotten her back. And Mariana killed her again.

He only left eggxile for the funeral. She wouldn’t stay dead, but he had to be there.

Time went even faster after that. He was Gegg, or maybe Gegg was him, or maybe Gegg was Gegg, or maybe. . . ?

He went back to eggxile.

He wasn’t leaving without them. Tilín. Juanaflippa. He would do whatever was necessary. He would pray to any higher power. Lil J still owed him a goddamn favor, but the guy wouldn’t pick up his calls. Maybe if he put more shit in the shrine; angels liked shiny shit, didn’t they? He went back to the mine, where the gasses swirled in his head. He built the shrine. He mined. He built the shrine.

He went back to the mine.

He went back to the mine.

He went back to the mine.

“This is where I sit, this is where my bitch wife sits, and this is where my daughter sits, if I had one!”

He’d said that before. No he hadn’t. Yes he had.

No, he just needed to clear his head.

Charlie Slimecicle went back to the mine.

Charlie Slimecicle stepped off the train.

[bardicbird]

goddd emily’s performance as saccharina was amazing. she’s powerful. she’s intimidating. she’s broken by her own expectations. she’s noble. she’s a scared little kid. she’s so wrapped up in her own emotions and experiences that they affect everything she does. she’s sometimes insufferable to the viewer, who has been with the rocks family this entire time. she’s a sympathetic character. she’s a badass, because she needs to be. fuck, what a character.