#and in fact is what he pushes for even if the pc convinces him otherwise

[fatcowboys]

[id: tags reading #dare i say it? astarian #depending on how you play lol. end id.]

as much as i love corruption arcs, there's just something so sexy about a character that can't be corrupted, to the point that he un-corrupts you instead

[james-fun-in-the-sunderland]

3, 17, 22, 23, 30, 34, 48. for the sampson. the sample .

the samosa.... yayyy yayy thank u zee for giving me qs ^-^ ❤

obligatory link back to the aske game !

3. Do they enjoy cooking?

I dont think so ! though he CAN cook and do it pretty well, he usually left it to his wife and never liked doing it. after all it takes alot of set up and time and its a MESS.... so in current times he like 90% of the time gets pizza or microwaves smth...... or bums some food off of his job/callahan >:)

17. How easily would they be convinced to do something that goes against their morals?

i instantly wanted to say EXTREMELY easilly but it would honestly depend? yea thats rite hes not THAT shitty of a guy.. he mostly suffers from the bystander effect and is ... selfish... plus has an extreme fear of death so put him on the spot and he would do anything to keep himself from getting killed even if that meant hurting someone else. BUT i think he wouldnt be AS selfish if his wife, kid, or someone else he loved was involved... then he would be more considerate... but otherwise? no morals, just keeping himself safe

(the rest r under the read more ^-^ )

22. Would they ever betray someone for money?

not really... while i do think hes selfish i dont think he would do something that extreme for something as non important as money, i think that also what helps him to ... not really care to do such a thang for money is that he can just . like . scam people or something... like he has a ton of money saved up AND this man 100% would install a bitcoin miner on someones pc if left alone with it.... like he doesnt see money as more important than someones life... or something equally as important to him

23. How would they want to die?

ohhh interesting q .... see my easy answer is he just shrimply would not want to <3 but if he were like forced to have to think about it... i think he would want to die surrounded by friends... not alone... it doesnt really matter how at that point, whether its painful or not, he just would want at least one other person there with him

30. If they had the chance to be famous would they take it? If they are famous would they rather they weren't?

i think he would like to be like... bill gates famous... not like star famous tho, like famous where everyone knows ur name and u get the benefits from that but not so famous that u have paparazzi at ur house and everyone is always trying to talk to u bc they know u from tv and everything... he doesnt want things to get out of control or for his safety and privacy to be threatened!

34. How well do they deal with grief?

he doesnt <3 i feel like ive said this about another character but its Different. i think i said it about vicky maybe? which in that case they are different 4 reals... bc vicky like actively pushes his grief away or just like is able to give in to self destruction, meanwhile samson tries to run away from his grief or replace it with things he likes... hes NOT a self destructive guy! he may not take care of himself AS WELL but thats only with things that are more inconvenient and dont make him feel good! which is his like .. 1st priority... he also tries to cheer up others if theyre going thru smth rather than allow them to like fully feel their emotions, u kno? which works for people who are like him but probably is like ... dude -_- for other people

48. How likely are they to go on a quest for revenge?

not very likely... unless he knows 100% that it would mean something then hes not one to just run off and get himself hurt for no reason. mostly if someone Gets him to where a person would want revenge then he would just like... not.. SEE that is unless it was like ... something petty like he would absolutely go on a silly crusade of pranks against someone else who pranked him, THATS easy and in fact the petty-er the better for samson

[khrsecretvalentine]

sunset reset (for lighteningdancer)

from: @trilies to: @lighteningdancer / Ginger Pairing: Byakuran/Shoichi

Note: Hey there, Ginger! You’re quite the familiar name to me at this point, so I got really excited when I pulled your name. Then you gave me so much freedom and so many liberties that I sort of short-circuited on what to write at first, lmao! However, per your advice, I did go with something that I don’t really write a lot of, both re: characters and, like… tone? Subject matter? I was apparently in A Mood (tw) when I began writing. I do hope that this end result is something that you find any sort of enjoyment in at all. If not, just let me know, because there’s plenty of other stuff that I’d love to make for you. Relatedly, let me know if you have an AO3, because I’d love to put it on this on there properly gifted to you! Unless you don’t want your name attached, which is also valid. 

Content Warnings: Time Travel Fuckery, Alternate Universe Fuckery, Character Death that debatably counts, Suicide, a short Sex Scene, attempts at Stockholm Syndrome, Kidnapping, non-detailed Torture, general Abuse, the intense and vaguely defined set of mental issues that come when your brain just gets overloaded with being Yourself but hundreds of times with hundreds of slightly-to-extremely different memories in slightly-to-different worlds aka “byakuran’s mental state must be a fucking trip" 

——

Once a human tastes food for the first time, they always end up hungering for more, whatever "more” might mean for that particular individual. Maybe they look to be sated, content and full and warm. Maybe they look for a taste that can’t be beat, by their estimate. Maybe they simple look for something new, something interesting- a change in palate. On some level… He thinks Shoichi Irie is like that for him.  Byakuran doesn't need him. Of course he doesn’t. But if he’s being completely and utterly technical, he doesn’t need a lot of the things that he takes for himself, because none of it actually matters in the end. It’s all just a game, something he does because it's interesting. That would be easy enough for anyone to understand, right? Sometimes you turn on a game counsel and feel the need to get all the achievements, and other times you do it because you want to see how far you can strain the system until it shatters completely. It really all depends, and sometimes, they’re both the same thing. One day, in one universe, he’ll complete the Tri-Ni-Sette, and that will be that. In terms of gaming, he supposes that would be the end all for the main objective. Very fittingly, he comes to learn that it is the most difficult task, no matter how much he prepares and plans. Well, it would be a boring game otherwise.  It comes as quite a surprise that what would be a simple side quest any other game is almost just as difficult.

The very first time- if anything can even be called a ‘first’ at all when it’s all happening together, at the same time ,and yet completely separate- he decides to lay a claim to Shoichi Irie simply because it feels as though it’s what he should do. Another thing to check off the list. Besides, there’s a little fondness to it, he supposes. That’s not too surprising. Everyone always has that brief bit of fondness to the first character in a RPG that is kind to them, or makes the first move. He can remember playing a game with a female PC, and being charmed despite himself when a male knight almost immediately gave him a gift. Nothing special, nothing exciting or edgy, but amusing enough.  Shoichi Irie isn’t a knight in any meaning of the word. Byakuran’s impression of him at his young ten-years-younger self is that of a typical awkward nerd, although he has to admit that one’s first impression probably isn’t reliable when it involves time travel panic. Yet that doesn’t change the most important part of their meeting, and it’s that he owes everything to that young flustered teenager who had run into him in the street. He hadn’t given him a rose or sweet words, but rather something so much more valuable.  There are numerous jokes to be made about the tropes and cliches which are so prevalent in otome games, but Byakuran has found they aren’t exactly wrong in some cases. The Shoichi Irie he finds in this timeline fits so neatly in so many little boxes when he meets him for a second impression, watching him play at a seedy bar in a grubby dark side of town. Gone is the frantic nervousness, wore down into something much more exhausted that weighs down underneath his eyes and leaves just a little too much room underneath his shirt. Just a passing glance is enough to tell that the bassist is down on his luck, probably not helped by the fact that he’s not really fantastic at his instrument of choice. Judging by the way his bandmates are either in no better position or spit quiet words out at him with narrowed eyes, Byakuran can tell that they no doubt owe a lot of money from having all their nice equipment. For types like that, just like in all of the little romances he’s played through a screen, it doesn’t take much but a little bit of attention and kindness to draw Shoichi in. He doesn’t even need to do it that often, to his amusement, able to spend plenty of time building up this iteration of the Millefiore while attending to Shoici on the side.  He’s successful with his Millefiore. Of course he is. Having cheatcodes to the universe makes it so very easy. Bit by bit, he lavishes care onto his little side quest, first bringing him in with compliments and indepth conversations even Byakuran is pleasantly surprised to find he enjoys. Then come the casual outtings, treating him to coffee or lunch, the two of them so absorbed that it reminds Byakuran of how fun these minor little things can be as a detour. He makes sure Shoichi never has to pay, the ill-gained money in his pockets always being more than enough. Sometimes it’s a fight to make it happen, of course. Despite his situation, Shoichi always seems to want to be self sufficient, and there’s a fire in his eyes that tugs at the interest of Byakuran’s heart. So down on his luck, and yet he still tries to struggle like this. How cute. Still, Byakuran manages to convince him one way or the other.  Yet the game can’t merely stop at pampering a “love interest”…  He makes the offer at the backstage of one of the many trash bars Shoichi plays at, his back against the wall while his arms have wound lazily about Shoichi’s body. A year of pampering has lead him to looking better than he did before, and a few minutes of Byakuran grinding his thigh inbetween his legs has lead him looking even better. Forget the nervous teenager that awoke him to all of this, forget the dead eyed man he’d seen on stage once. There’s that brilliant flickering fire behind Shoichi’s contacts, brow stubbornly crumpled, skin flushed so vividly it looks as though it should hurt, and his lips slick from every heavy breath that rushes out of him as he digs his fingers into Byakuran’s shoulders to weather the ride. Even when his entire body shudders, nails digging in past cotton, he still tries to press a bruising kiss to the side of Byakuran’s neck. Of course he can’t let Byakuran control the whole situation that easily.  (His first clue, and one he ignores for longer than he would admit.)  “You’re so cute, Sho-chan,” he murmurs into his ear, dragging his fingers down along his spine. Against his leg, he can feel Shoichi’s arousal straining painfully in tight denim and, almost better, the way he shivers when the warmth of his voice rushes through his ear.  He can barely speak, so wound up in lust as he is, but Shoichi pushes through. “Who’s ever heard of a bassist being cute?” he rasps. There’s a ragtag sort of afterparty happening in the bar proper, drowning out the sounds of their rutting, so he does his best in keeping quiet. All that does is make his voice low and husky, drawing Byauran’s eyelids halfway down. That’s more than good enough, he thinks, and he eases up on the pressure. Shoichi blinks up at him, dazed and aroused, unable to stop Byakuran as he adjusts himself until he’s sliding down the wall and inbetween Shoichi’s legs. Understanding hits him quick enough, and he braces one arm against the wall. It doesn’t escape Byakuran how his breathing only gets all the harder.  “I want to keep you,” he says, his own voice low, possessive, and he can almost see the way it drops right through Shoichi’s gut. His fingers make quick work of popping open the button to his jeans. “Will you let me, Sho-chan?” Using the very tip of his tongue, he flicks up the zipper and takes it between his teeth, eyes staying locked on his precious interest’s own gaze the whole time as he drags it down slowly.  “That’s…” The words are choked in his throat, and he tosses his head back as Byakuran slides his aroused cock out into the open air. “You’ve given me so much… and now you’re asking me that?” “But I want to hear it, Sho-chan.” Grinning slyly, he drags his tongue up from the very base of Shoichi’s cock and flicks tip against tip. Satisfaction pools in his stomach at how the hips in his hands jerk. “Let me keep you, or else I won’t let you come even a little bit.” He nuzzles his way back down, hot breath ghosting along sensitive skin, until he can wrap his lips around his balls. It’s harder to watch Shoichi like this now, buried into his hips, but he can still hear the way his hand slaps across his mouth, muffling the harsh gasp he makes. In contrast to the quiet his interest is desperately trying to maintain, Byakuran lives to shatter that. Underneath the yells and laughter and pounding music of the bar, he sloppily licks and sucks along the aching arousal that’s right at his face, every sound an obscene prayer. He knows it works up Shoichi, too. It’s hard not to pick up on it, feeling how his legs shake and his hips tremble from the effort of holding back.  There’s not even any reason to edge him for long. Soon enough, Shoichi is gasping and keening over his head, squirming desperately into Byakuran’s mouth. “Dammit- dammit, Byakuran- take me! I want you…. Nn-” He glances up at that, pleased at what he sees: Shoichi looking down at him, teeth digging into a finger from where his hand isn’t quite covering his mouth, arousal twisting his expression so desperately. “I want you… to take me. Keep me. Please-!"  At the end, when Shoichi is slumped against him and drifting down the tides of post-orgasm, Byakuran indulgently curls his fingers into his hair to keep his face pressed into his shoulder. "No takebacks,” he purrs, ignoring the soreness along his back. “I’ll keep you forever now, Sho-chan. Even across universes.” Blissfully unaware of threat and lie alike, Shoichi laughs breathlessly against his shirt. “Romantic.” When Byakuran says it, he says it as a lie. But what do you call a lie that becomes a truth when you never meant for it to be? Never one satisfied with leaving a side quest partially forgotten or abandoned the first time through, Byakuran pushes all the way. He helps pay off his debt, convinces him out of a band he’s clearly miserable in. With the money he’s so quickly managed to accumulate, there’s no question of how easy it is to get Shoichi to live with him. Free of any real obligation, Byakuran watches in faint interest but mostly amusement as his interest begins to relax. He’s really, truly, unbelievably still nothing impressive with a bass, but at least he seems more content as he fiddles with it and all the other songs he tries to write. What’s more relevant to Byakuran is how Shoichi gets back into what he dismissively calls his “old hobby”. Byakuran had always wondered how a bassist’s teenage self could end up time traveling… and the answer, he realizes with every idle computer program and toy Shoichi makes, is because Shoichi Irie is in fact incredibly intelligent. So intelligent that it seems a waste that he ever became a musician, a fact that he makes sure to pass along to his many other selves. This intelligence comes back to bite him when he returns to his high rise apartment after a nice long trip dealing with a minor emergency. It was nothing serious, just some minor complications one Federico Ferrino left behind in his death. Truly the Vongola had a lot of resources, to be such a bother even in death. Yet he finds them to be less of a bother than the sight that greets him once he steps into his apartment. Shoichi is curled up in an armchair that’s been forcibly turned so that it’s facing in the direction of the front door, knees digging against his chest. He jolts a little at the sound of the door, eyes going to Byakuran faster than a gunshot.  Now now, what could have happened, he wonders? Byakuran rolls the question in his mind even as he carelessly drops his bags to the side, already making his way over to his interest like a good boyfriend would. “Stomach again?” he asks, reaching out to sweep his fingers up into Shoichi’s bangs. It’s been a while since the bassist has had to deal with his infamous stomach aches, brought out whenever he’s too tense, too nervous, too stressed. “Sho-chan, I didn’t realize you would miss me that much!” His hand is grabbed before he can fully pull it away, musically calloused fingers folded almost delicately around his own. Byakuran blinks, eyebrows raising, before he looks properly into Shoichi’s face. All the expressions which would normally be there- sulking aggravation, taut anxiety, restless worry- are completely absent. Instead, his brow is wound tight together, and there’s something… new to his eyes. Dark green is focused fully on him, steeled in a way he can’t quite recall ever viewing before. “Byakuran,” he says, desert grave quiet, “what do you do for a living?” Everyone makes mistakes on their first blind run, of course. Byakuran has made a couple, despite his various connections that are all to himself, and he generally doesn’t worry about it. This particular mistake is that he’s left Shoichi alone, guarded for but not watched, for far too long. With all the things Byakuran is getting up to, well, he doesn’t have full and complete of the world yet. News anchors will talk, radio personalities will gossip, and the internet churns so quickly with facts and facts that are twisted and facts which only have the name but not the definition. Shoichi has been busy. He’s been paying attention. It’s all he’s been able to do.  Lying doesn’t really have a point here, not with how much Shoichi has pulled together. Besides, Byakuran has never really lied to him, has he? Shoichi doesn’t react well to that statement, but it’s true. He’s only been vague, never giving the whole story , only bits and pieces. Maybe he could do damage control, if he really tried. Byakuran doesn’t. It’s so much more fascinating to watch his interest yell and demand and accuse, arm sweeping out in scythe sweep of a gesture.  Shoichi has never burned so bright, not in this universe, and Byakuran is enraptured by this glitch he’s made happen.  They sleep in separate rooms for a while after that- Byakuran taking the lavish and comfortable master bedroom, Shoichi self-exiling himself to a sterile guest room that’s never once been touched. It only takes a couple of days before he breaks the barrier he’s erected, settling himself gingerly onto the couch besides Byakuran one evening. None of the lights are on yet, with only the setting sun illuminating Shoichi’s back from where he sits, eyes on him. “I’m sorry,” he tells him. “It was a lot to take in,” he says. “Can you just promise me that you’ll be honest with me from now on?” “Of course, Sho-chan,” Byakuran tells him, while promising no such thing. This, too, is a lie.  Shoichi must know it as well. He promises nothing either, and he writes I’m sorry once again on a letter he leaves on the counter in their darkened home when Byakuran returns again one day. A surprising amount of his things are left behind, with only the most sensible of clothing that’s been taken, along with all the basic necessities of a healthy human such as toiletries. When Byakuran checks one of his bank accounts, he’s not surprised to find a lot of money withdrawn. While he could pursue his interest, he doesn’t. Instead, he carries out the end of this particular life, his particular run, all the while quite aware of how the patches of rebel forces which never cease to defy him are granted a sudden boost in knowledge. It doesn’t really matter, in the end. This reality is a bust, and he toys with the different ways to end it.  Somewhere, out in the rebel hideouts that he systematically quashes, he’s certain Shoichi Irie dies… but he dies far away from Byakuran, out of his sight.  It’s a “Bad End” if your love interest betrays you and dies. Byakuran passes along the message to Byakuran of everything he’s gone through. It would be embarrassing if this was the side quest that he missed, after all.  Probably the problem Byakuran ran into, Byakuran muses to himself as he thinks over this particular set of alternate memories, is that Shoichi was a civilian kept in the dark for so long. Sure, he had been running around in all sorts of seedy bars in that universe, but being in the same vicinity as some two-bit thugs isn’t anything like dating a powerful mafia don who had blood soaked up to his knees. If he intervenes a little earlier… That sounds right. A slightly earlier intervention, nudging those morals a little further in the right direction, and Byakuran thinks that might finally help complete this little sub-plot. He just needs to get a little creative in when they meet. How they meet.  When he meets Shoichi Irie, he’s not the flustered teenager that gave him this opportunity and he’s not yet the boneworn bassist who played in side alley bars. Instead, he’s seventeen and clearly frustrated with the world, or perhaps merely his place in it. Byakuran only needs a day to see how people take advantage of him. It's  nothing so crass as outright bullying, not most of the time. Instead, they merely pile on expectations and requests onto him, disregarding his interests, disregarding anything else he might have on his plate. In a different way to that time in the bar, it’s easier than anything to slide his way into a friendship with him. Nudging him along towards what Byakuran wants for him… It’s a little more difficult to get the subtleties of that exactly right, and he spends a couple of lives dealing with that. It’s not a complete waste; he’ll need such skills for other people who aren’t Shoichi.  The best way, he finds, is simply phrasing things as harmless pranks in high school, things to tease those who frustrate him so much, things he can build upon so steadily. Shoplifting is a little harder, not something that his Sho-chan really has the hand dexterity for, but it’s easier when he can frame their targets as absolute bastards who deserve it… or detach them so neatly from his life that they don’t really matter.  What his real interest is, however, would be what he told himself from dating that tired and beaming bassist. It’s a waste to keep him as a petty thief, even if there is a kind of casual amusement in throwing stolen candy into Shoichi’s hair while he does his best to scowl instead of laugh. The good news is that he has dozens, hundreds, thousands of other selves knowledge at hand. It’s child play to talk tech with Shoichi, to convince him to stretch his intelligence right past the digital defenses of so many organizations and countries. From high school, to college, to them with degrees spilling out the secrets of the richest and most influential or sometimes holding it over their heads. It hardly takes anything at all to convince Shoichi to join his Gesso, this slowly budding and blossoming Millefiore. This should be it, he thinks. It took a try or four, but he’s finally got this route down.  He thinks that all the way to the day he triumphantly comes back from his meeting with that little Giglio Nero heiress, satisfied from the box he has in his hands. “Ta daaaaa!” he sings as he enters the office where Shoichi is waiting. His interest looks pretty good in mafia black, he has to say, even when he’s clearly fiddled his tie right out of place and jumps what seems like a solid foot into the air. “The meeting went great, Sho-chan.” “I feel like you’d say that no matter what actually happened…” Still, he moves out of the way, letting Byakuran flop loosely into his chair. Shoichi slides his hands into his pockets, trying to seem calm, before he moves them out again to rub his palms against his legs. “Were you able to resolve things mostly peacefully?” Gamma’s fingers broke, one by one, feeling surprisingly like nothing for how long they’d clutched to his pool stick. Genkishi had to be skewered to the wall, bloody dripping from his mouth, simply to keep him out of the way. When Aria had finally conceded, she’d closed her eyes for a brief moment with a box keeping their hands joined together, and a smile had crept onto her face. “Oh, the things that will happen,” she’d said, eyes too blue, too strange. For a second, she’d almost looked human.  “Mhm,” Byakuran says, because that’s the easy answer, and they have the Giglio Nero- what remains- on close watch. He won’t make a rookie mistake again, making it easy for Shoichi to stumble onto such a dark little thing. Setting the box down onto his desk, he flicks open the latch. The second Shoichi turns his back, Byakuran plans on getting nothing less than the absolute best replicas that he possibly can for the Mare Rings… but for now, there’s no harm in keeping them right in front of him. He has no idea when these were last touched, even by their mistresses, but the Mare Ring have a crystal clear shine to them that’s so smooth that not even water would stick. He’d slipped the Sky Ring back into its place after reveling in its quickly comfortable warmth, and it almost seems to glow again at his presence. In fact, it even seems to glow all the brighter than before. His eyelids dip just a little lower. “Amazing, right…?” He can feel Shoichi’s arm brush against his chair, nudging it a little bit. “All that worry, for some rings…” His voice isn’t into the disregarding tone it tries for, however. It’s even… dazed. Byakuran’s first thought is that he’s coming down from his anxiety high. That impression lasts for all of a single second before Shoichi’s hand reaches over from the side, drawn to the box, and Byakuran realizes that the Mare Sky Ring wasn’t glowing any brighter than it did when he first saw it.  Yellow blends into orange so well. Shoichi burns bright yet again.  The knowledge hits him like a bullet train, a feeling that he passes along the second he has the time to spare for it, and he almost doesn’t care that, in this world too, Shoichi once again slowly turns again, once again pokes his nose into something he shouldn’t have. It’s fine to lose that particular sidequest this time around, because he’s gotten a key bit of information that can potentially help in all the others. At the same time, it only makes what was once a silly little romance route gain so much more prominence to the main story that Byakuran can’t help but marvel as the flow of it.  The Mare Rings can’t speak, can’t communicate, and yet Byakuran can’t help but feel as though they’re the most people-like things he’s dealt with ever since Before. Their preferences in wielders tend to be specific, although they can be flexible if no better choice presents itself. The Rain Ring tends to lean towards bright and malicious, people who can demonstrate a sense of mocking humor before they clean away the filth of the battlefield. In contrast, those with any sort of commendable patience draw in the Cloud Ring, and the Storm favors anyone with a shimmering energy beneath an otherwise… passive facade.  The Sky Ring is his forever, in every single iteration of the universe that can possibly exist.  The Sun longs for Shoichi. Every time. Without fail.  Byakuran can understand why. Anyone would understand, he’s fairly sure, if they’d ever seen the way his eyes steel in resolution or the energy that burns from his body or the sheer brilliant gold of his flame. In worlds where he forgets, or where he slips up,  or where there’s merely a spot of bad luck, the Arcobaleno Curse seeks  out Shoichi for the intensity of his Flame.  That happens rarely.  Byakuran laid claim upon him first, after all.  In one life, Byakuran decides to go for a change of pace. Not every romance route can be won through simple kindness. Sometimes, you have to get a little bit creative, or you have to push for a certain event to go off. Sometimes, a Good End is reprehensible in the cruelty it takes to get there. At least, for normal people.  He draws the Gesso up as soon as he’s able, throws all of himself into making them a strong Family as quick as possible. Quick enough to have someone watching over Shoichi, make sure that he doesn’t drift too far from where Byakuran can see him. He goes through a fairly standard dull life, the few times Byakuran takes the time to check in on him- a brief flirt with paying a bass, graduating top of his class. Nothing to pay attention to. It’s after Shoichi’s first year of college that he instructs some of his people to kidnap him one night, when he’s on his way home from a concert of a band he likes and not expecting for a car to stop right besides him. It’s quick, silent, and completely professional. More than a few of his own must be wondering what Byakuran is doing… but that’s the case in every life he lives.  All they have to do is listen to him as he plays a game so long and expansive that they can’t even begin to imagine it.  There’s no reason to go straight into the harshest form of cruelty, not right away, not in this life. There are a lot of ways to twist a will, to shatter it and pull it together in some other shape entirely. Byakuran starts off with the kind of lodgings that would be perfect, if one were merely willing to ignore all the ways in which it’s a cage: sinfully soft furniture, nice lighting that can go from comfortably dim to softly warm, a bathroom large enough to be another bedroom, no windows, one entrance and exit, hidden cameras in more places than the obvious. Byakuran follows the advice of another life, and makes sure that there isn’t a kitchen or access to the outside world via electronics.  Shoichi Irie, in every bit of his incarnations that Byakuran can remember, is always devilishly clever, after all. Even when he had been a bassist who’d skipped college, trapped in a cycle of debt and unfulfilling gigs.  He’s also incredibly attractive, even now, disheveled in last night’s clothes, hair falling in a mess around his face, glasses askew on his face. One hand is curled against his stomach, a warning of the stomach aches that are to come, and his expression is twisted in such alarm that it stirs a heat inside of Byakuran’s chest. This isn’t one he’s indulged in yet. Not for the first time, he appreciates the ability to play with such a purposefully destructive game. “What do you want with me!?” Shoichi asks, sharp, panicked, and yet going right to the point. He doesn’t ask who Byakuran is, which is almost a shame. There are some amusing answers he could give there. And yet, he supposes this question is more important. At least, for someone in Shoichi’s position.  “Now now!” He laughs, draping himself in one of the armchairs that are around. He practically sinks into it. Really, he hopes Shoichi comes to appreciate that much in the time that he keeps him here. “I’m not going to torture you or anything, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Not in this timeline, at any rate. “Let me introduce myself. I’m Byakuran Gesso, and it’s nice to meet you properly here. I’d like you to work for me.” Shoichi draws one leg up cautiously, foot digging into the mattress. What he’s prepared to do is anyone’s guess, only that he feels the need to be a little… steadier, perhaps, in case he needs to do something. The hand not clutching his stomach does similar. “This isn’t… exactly the normal way to get someone to work for you,” he says stiffly, and Byakuran’s heart flutters. There’s that Sun brilliance, hardening his eyes and burning him up from the inside out. He hardly had to push at all for it to appear, even in a situation like this. “What do you want me to work on, exactly?” “Oh, nothing that you aren’t already going to college for, Sho-chan.” The nickname makes him twitch a little bit, unaware as he is of how intimate they are long before he was born and long after he dies and even here in the present. They’re completely and utterly bound. He simply doesn’t know it. He will probably never know it, at least in most lives. “I’d like to pick your mind for the treasure trove of ideas I’m sure you have in there when it comes to technology. If you simply go along with it, you’ll find your time here to be quite nice!” Byakuran tilts his head to the side. “And if you cooperate, Sho-chan, then you’ll be out of here in no time at all. I’m positive we can work something out, don’t you agree?” The wary pull of his eyebrows downwards says Shoichi doesn’t believe him, which he shouldn’t. “I’m getting the impression that I don’t have a particular choice,” he says, still not easing up even the slightest. “Do I at least get the dignity of asking some questions…?” Byakuran crosses his legs and let his hands flow to the side in gesture. “All you like, Sho-chan!” He doesn’t promise he’ll tell the truth.  “Then… Why me? I haven’t even- I don’t have a degree of any sort. I’m not even close to graduating.” The hand at his stomach moves upwards, digging into his chest. “Why kidnap a college student who’s probably not even knowledgeable enough for the kinds of things you might ask for? Aren’t there smarter technicians and engineers who could do what you want?” There aren’t. Byakuran knows this for a fact, knows that he would have stumbled upon them a long time ago if anyone had that ability. Yet no one had done what Shoichi had. No one had gone through time, no one had broken it so thoroughly as he had. Byakuran can’t even claim that honor yet, as much as it would amuse him to. No, he merely flows across the many timelines, the many universes where he exists.  Shoichi is the one who reached out where he shouldn’t have, and Byakuran knows for a fact, after listening to him speak in the kinder timelines, that he can break even more if he really tries.  The trick is to get him to really try.  “I have utter faith in your potential,” is the answer Byakuran gives, grinning and flashing a wink to Shoichi. “But you don’t have to worry. Ask for anything, and I’ll make sure to provide it for you. Just knock, okay, Sho-chan?” He’s kept for a while longer, listening to question after question that Shoichi fumbles to pull out from his mind, and he’s not surprised when he almost immediately calls through on that 'knocking’ thing to start pulling in book after book to his room.  Despite it being a simple non-answer, the line about 'potential’ is also fairly true. Byakuran passes along all sorts of little tasks for Shoichi to do, starting subtle at first with computer programs on an isolated channel that Shoichi never gets to keep. Then, various little quizzes, seeing if he can outdo what they already are using in the Gesso and Millefiore. Byakuran rarely delivers them himself. Why would he? That’s something for those far lower on the ladder who have nothing better to do, or at least nothing more important than Byakuran’s pursuit of this sidequest. Instead, Byakuran likes to visit Shoichi in the middle of his time. Sometimes it’s while he’s working through the latest task he’s been given, papers sprawled out all over the floor and a pile working up on the desk Shoichi does his best to remember to use. It’s a nice change of pace from the repetitive motions of running a mafia empire. Shoichi doesn’t take to it well at first. “Of- what? Of course I’m not,” Shoichi says, honesty stuttering out before he can stop himself the first time Byakuran outright asks. “I know your name and literally nothing else, and you’re just- is this a test?” His mouth screws up, eyes narrowed over them. “To check if I’m… I don’t know, cheating or something as I work on this?” When Byakuran bursts out laughing at him, a lobster of a blush spreads over his face in a heartbeat.  “I told you before, didn’t I?” Byakuran says when he’s calmed down, sprawled out in an armchair. His head lolls to the side, lazy smile still in place. “I have full confidence in your abilities and potential, Sho-chan.” “Shoichi,” he mutters quietly, not really stopping the nickname.  “The only reason I’m here is because I’m bored. Besides, you haven’t asked for a rubber duck yet. I thought it might help to bounce your stress off something~.” “Rubber ducks should be a little cuter,” Shoichi mumbles into his shirt, already ducking back down into his work while still a little bit red. It takes a little while for him to eventually start reciprocating Byakuran’s attempts at conversation, but what are a few visits in comparison to the eternity that Byakuran has? The multiple visions of eternity, in fact. So it doesn’t feel long at all before Shoichi begins to speak back to him, gesturing to a paper here and there as he spills out his train of thought or his frustrations on a certain aspect of his latest project. When he finally does that, the other visits Byakuran takes begin to go a little more smoothly as well instead of Shoichi sitting awkwardly in a chair as far away from Byakuran as possible while Byakuran does all the talking. He knows it’s not only his imagination when Shoichi begins to show a little more warmth in response to his visits.  There aren’t many other options for him down in this windowless room, where time doesn’t feel real, where he can’t even sense time, and Byakuran is his only constant person. There’s a certain thrill in indulging in such a thing, at least for this life. One day, Shoichi doesn’t fight against the way Byakuran presses up behind him while he’s reading, white-clad arms lazily winding around him. He only glances up at him from the corner of his eyes, thumb worrying at the page in the book he’s been working through. “I don’t exactly have to point my room is bugged, right?” he says stiffly, a little bit of red burning at his ears. “Is there any shame at all that your- everything is being recorded while you’re doing this?” “When you’re the kind of person I am, you end up being watched all the time anyway, Sho-chan,” he laughs, directly into Shoichi’s ear as to watch him shudder. He’s not the only person in the world who has such a reaction, and yet Byakuran can’t help feeling more satisfied when Shoichi does it. That’s the thrill of having a favorite character, he supposes. Everything he does, Byakuran can’t help but hyperfocus on. “Now, what kind of things are you thinking of that would get you so worked up about being watched? And in relation to me as well?” The tone of his voice says everything that doesn’t get a word ascribed to it. The blush spreads from his ears to the rest of his face quicker than the heartbeat it takes to provide that much blood. Byakuran never stops the cameras from recording… He only goes back once he’s done indulging in Shoichi’s body to cut those particular parts out and save them for his own records.  More interested in this indulgence than the rest of the videos, and relaxed in what has to be his victory this time, Byakuran misses the little things that will give Shoichi away in other universes. The way he begins to sleep more reliably in his bed instead of falling asleep by accident anywhere else. How his hands duck underneath his pillows, still so “absentminded” as to be holding his glasses inbetween his fingers. Byakuran learns later how the sound of his apparent snoring hid the sharpening of his glasses frames against metal frames. Byakuran had made sure they were metal, so that Shoichi couldn’t use the wood chips of such a frame for whatever his brilliant mind could come up with. A pity that ingenuity works with everything at its disposal no matter the material.  In one universe, he punctures his own throat, slides the needle inbetween the rows of his own lungs, and chokes on his blood before medical services can pull him back from the brink. In one universe, he breaks through the system keeping the door shut and makes a break for it. He succeeds, or he fails, or he does both in the end, but it’s a loss on Byakuran either way. “All you have to do is give yourself to me,” he says one day, one universe, popping open a bag of gummy bears. It wasn’t his first choice, but the little gas station he’d stopped at before getting here hadn’t had any marshmallow treats, and, well, as long as it’s sweet, maybe he doesn’t care as much as some might think. The same could be said for how Shoichi has been forcefully tied to a plain metal chair, handcuffs biting into his wrists and rope binding his legs. To keep him from doing anything reckless, a gag keeps his mouth pried open. Tears and spit alike drip down his face, splatter against his pants…  His eyes are still so very stubbornly burning. A sort of fondness warms his veins, and Byakuran pops one gummy bear into his mouth before he reaches downwards. Fingernails catch along knots in Shoichi’s hair, curls always so thick when he’s first woken up in the morning and hasn’t had a chance to compose himself yet. Byakuran is intimately familiar with all the little quirks like that which make up Shoichi Irie. It’s a consequence of playing the same route, over and over and over again. For all the bad ends he’s steadily accumulating, Byakuran doesn’t regret it.  “Although I am curious,” he continues, drifting his hand downwards until he can curl his fingers around the back of Shoichi’s head and guide his gaze up to him. “What made you change your mind like this, Sho-chan? What made you so desperate that you’d want to risk killing yourself, or run away from here? I like to think I’ve been taking care of you so well that there can’t possibly be a problem. You can have just about everything you’d ever ask for.” It’s only the two of them in the room, all guards dismissed without a second thought. They’d only protest if they saw Byakuran reach down and undo the gag keeping Shoichi so quiet. Free of the obstruction, Shoichi takes a quick second to cough and catch his breath. Trapped in this place, at the end of the rope, he’s clearly lost some of that quaint politeness which he’d grown up with, because he turns his head slightly to the side and spits to clear his mouth. Byakuran supposes he should marvel that it wasn’t directed right at him. “Isn’t it obvious?” he says, voice a little raspy, unused. “You brought me here in the first place because… I’m so smart, right? That’s what you told me. And… did you think I wouldn’t put everything together? Realize what all my work was adding up to, even if you never showed me the final product, or the result?” He gives a hard swallow, head bumping against Byakuran’s palm once again. “It’s not like I want to believe it…. but what else am I supposed to think, when you keep me trapped in here?” Teeth grinding against each other, he grits out, “I don’t even know if my own family is alive!” They aren’t. That thought idly occurs to Byakuran right as Shoichi says it, because he vaguely remembers glancing at a report he’d gotten of a little bit of a scuffle against Hibari-Kai over in Japan which had taken out a good dozen of lives or more, and he’d seen the Irie family listed among the deceased. It hadn’t occurred to him that it was anything important. It still isn’t, he supposes. What’s the point of saying it here and now? Idly, he scrapes his nails along the back of Shoichi’s scalp and watches him go utterly still. “And would you return if you got a brief chance outside, Sho-chan?” he asks, amused. Shoichi’s silence is an answer all its own, and Byakuran moves on without really giving him a moment to spare for a potential lie. “You really need to go with the flow, ha. I think you’d find you would have a much easier time of things if you did."  Shoichi swallows again, throat bobbing. His stare doesn’t waver. "Your flow."  Byakuran tilts his head to the side and smiles. "It’s the same thing in the end.” “If I refuse?” “Then I’ll just have to persuade you otherwise.” Persuasion, in this instance and a few others, meaning that he spends some of his time breaking Shoichi where he can. Sometimes physical. Sometimes mental. He already has a good deal of factors on his side for it all, really, from the oppressive atmosphere of never even knowing what time it is and having not known for a great deal of time, to the nice little case of Stockholm Syndrome he’s nestled right into Shoichi’s chest. That latter part he makes sure to especially cultivate. Every broken limb, he helps nurture back to full and proper health again. Every sickness Shoichi catches, whether purposefully encouraged or which comes along as a side effect of all the stress, he takes care of. Even when he threatens to drown Shoichi, serene moments where he holds him down by the throat and watches his mouth work helplessly with every bubble of hair that works upwards, he’s the same person who tends to him in the aftermath. He dries him off, checks that his lungs are still working right, work that a medical professional could be proud of. Pain and pleasure are two things that are so closely related. Fear and hatred and love and obsession, Byakuran thinks, are probably very much the same. If they are, then maybe he’ll be able to make this work as he’s been trying to across multiple lives.  It takes him around a year to look down into Shoichi’s dull eyes and realize that he’s broken him and, unlike so many other things in the world, there’s no possibility of pulling this back together into something whole again.  The Mare Sun Ring longs to be on Shoichi’s fingers. Byakuran thinks he can relate, wanting a thing that continues to not want you back.  Spoiled kindness isn’t working, and neither does abject cruelty. If that’s how it is, than Byakuran can’t possibly imagine what he’s doing wrong in this area. Still, in the end, it’s only a sidequest. A very important sidequest, but not a necessary one. The Mare Sun Ring might want Shoichi Irie out of every other pawn in the current world it exists in, but it knows how to settle for things, too. Shoichi might be its type, might have the most brilliantly burning Sun Flame anyone could imagine, but there are others who, while not the ideal personality, have a Flame that can satisfy the conditions of a Mare Ring.  He’s not giving up or anything. That would be embarrassing for someone who’s playing the game so determinedly like he is. Rather, he’s… merely taking a break.  Of course, it seems like even when he’s taking a break to focus on other aspects of the game, he still ends up paying attention to Shoichi whenever he ends up crossing his path. Even if the route is harder than expected, Byakuran can still enjoy some aspects of it, especially when it’s not so pressing on his overall run. Shoichi is still surprisingly pleasant to indulge, especially when he’s so early on in the stage of things that the criminal aspect of everything aren’t so obvious. It’s easiest to enjoy Shoichi then, trading food and sharing earbuds to the same music and talking about how fragile and sturdy the world is in equal measure. When it’s only theories, it’s easier to get Shoichi to play along with it. In a way that Byakuran is slowly starting to get used to across his many lives, he inevitably turns on him sooner or later.  Sometimes a country’s government- usually Japan, occasionally Italy, America when it’s not a trashfire- will rope him in as an agent to keep track of him. Byakuran has to admit those lives are a little bit amusing, and he can never help playing up the cliche of it all when he can. The powerful mafia boss playing cat and mouse games with the determined cop, or secret agent, or general law enforcement… While he takes some time to relax in how he’ll next properly approach the Shoichi situation, he doesn’t worry about the end result, and merely enjoys the journey. There’s something to be said for an approach like that, especially when Byakuran uses Shoichi’s own handcuffs against him to pin him against the wall, teasing him about the lengths they’ve gone through with each other, and the sexual tension is thick enough for a chainsaw.  Other mafia Families clue in to the sheer skill that Shoichi Irie actually possesses, once every few lives, especially when the world begins to advance technologically so quickly that they have to start paying attention to engineers and those who are up and coming. Those realities are sometimes a little bit disappointing, because the destruction of the rest of the Families, especially those who have connections to the Vongola, are always the first ones he crushes underneath his heel. It’s a pity that he doesn’t get more of a chance to to with Shoichi in those lives.  Oh well. He’ll always have other rounds, other lives, other realities. In the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t really matter.  Then there are the timelines where Shoichi takes things into his own hands.  This world has already been broken, shattered, vast expanses of ruined cities beyond the walls of his little fortresses where he experiments with his little civilization games. Here, people either submit, or they risk the destruction beyond that doesn’t deal kindly to those trying to carve out a life there. So with that said, he really has to marvel at the underground labs which Shoichi has created for himself. In the places where his people haven’t stormed through, covering the floor in dirt and dust of debris coating the walls, it’s impeccably clean. One of the few, perhaps the only, places where the grimy destruction of the world hasn’t seeped in. Befitting of such a brilliant engineer and technician, a defiled treasure trove of equipment fills the sparse amount of rooms that make up the shelter, and one has already completely self destructed with its remains utterly destroyed beneath the rubble. If they can recover enough, Byakuran has no doubt that the impact on numerous worlds would be immense. “If”… being the key word in that sentence. Shoichi is a genius in any of the worlds that bear his beautiful existence. For all that he can create, he knows exactly how to destroy it again. Almost more than Byakuran, Shoichi Irie has the perfect ability to completely destroy things, and yet he so rarely does it, save in moments like these where it’s to deny him everything he possibly can. His men corner Shoichi in a room that could, in some cases, be arguably titled as a bedroom. Byakuran has a closet that’s bigger. The mattress on the floor barely offers any substantial protection between the body on top of it and the hard ground beneath. The body on top of it has pressed himself back up against the wall with guns pointed at his face giving him no real option, and his hands are held up with the knuckles bumping into plaster. This one looks a real mess, Byakuran marvels, and he takes his time slowly looking over the engineer who’s been tirelessly and fruitlessly attempting to undermine him from beneath his very nose. A life of living outside of civilization has clearly taken its toll on Shoichi. What clothes are out here are basically as good as trash, and that includes the denim jacket on him that’s at least two times too big with more holes in it than Shoichi’s hopes must have by now, and the loose black tank top beneath it is hardly any better. That his actual pants and boots manage to fit, for all their worn nature, is quite impressive. Figuring out glasses in the wastelands has apparently not been a priority for Shoichi, because he’s squinting hard towards the armed men who can very easily take his life. It’s an action that almost makes him look more defiant than tired, than worn down to the very bone. He’s even disregarded scissors, possibly the most hilarious thing, because a good portion of his hair (definitely not all of it) has been pulled into a very lopsided ponytail near the right side of his head.  Lazily, Byakuran raises up a hand to dismiss his men. “Go look over the technology here,” he orders them, voice deceptively airy. Maybe it’s because of that which has them hesitate. Byakuran doesn’t, not when he levels them with a cold gaze full of threat, and that gets them moving again a hurry. He waits patiently  for the sound of heavy bootsteps to be as much in the distance as they can get before he steps forward to take up the whole doorway. “Hey there, Sho-chan. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” With the absence of armed guards, Shoichi collapses back a little bit, although his hands stay right where they are. It would be a gesture of anyone else in the same situation. “Yeah,” he says, voice following the same slump of his spine. “Yeah, it has. Years.” It didn’t take much for this particular world to crumble apart, after all. And yet, still he struggles to preserve it. The defiance is in more than the glare, now, and Byakuran marvels at it.  Hands in his pockets, Byakuran inclines his head to his old friend. “The offer is still on the table,” he reminds him. “Don’t you think that would be so much more appealing, Sho-chan?” He even laughs a little bit. “You’d be able to have a shower and everything! Maybe see things more clearly, hm?” Shoichi is filthy, thinner than in most timelines, and clearly has worked so hard that he’s not had the chance to sleep often. Even with every bit of that weighing down on him, he still slumps his shoulders with an annoyed huff. “Was that… an actual joke about my eyeglasses? At a time like this…” Even when everything is going at it’s absolute worst, he can still get that kind of reaction out of him. Byakuran laughs once more. “Well, it’s the truth, too!” Tilting his head ever so slightly to the side, Byakuran puts about the same amount of effort into the way his eyelids dip. “It’s all the truth,” he says, which is a lie. “The Sun Ring would be perfect on your finger,” he says, which is the truth. He’d left it back in the hands of the Sun Guardian he’d chosen for this world, once it had become clear that he would not accomplish his goal in this reality either. That meant, technically, there was no reason to make a claim on Shoichi in this world either. What purpose could he serve, besides potentially passing along more information to Byakuran in another world? And yet still he wants it. Wants Shoichi. Again and again, he’s courted and broken and threatened countless Shoichis, all for naught. Even if this world is useless…. He can only imagine the rush of satisfaction that would drown him if he managed to successfully capture one of the few individuals in all of his many existences who fascinates him so. Sometimes, in some places, he even almost ponders if Shoichi Irie is more his Player 2 than a love interest whose Good End he’s tirelessly chasing across numerous different realities.  Only a thought experiment in the end, that sort of thing. There’s a reason he ponders it more in the late night while some version of him drifts off to sleep, or turns over the idea while his body runs through the motions of a shower. If there is actually a Player 2 against his campaign in one of the many worlds, he’s yet to meet them, for one thing, and he’s fairly certain that there would be more of a fight than all of Shoichi’s desperate struggles.  Surely he must know it too, but all Shoichi does is let out a slow exhaled that scrapes up against lung and throat alike. Typical for someone who has dared to live out here in desolated wastelands. “I bet it would,” he says, a cough forcing a pause into existence. It’s too much for a body that’s become so thin and weak. “But my answer hasn’t changed, you know.” “So stubborn, Sho-chan.” It hardly takes a step before he’s within the room, and filling up a good portion of the space. A mattress can barely fit in here, so even with so little movement he’s already right between Shoichi’s legs. “It might be better for you over all if you just went along with it.” Smiling, he tilts his head to the side. He has no doubt that it’s as empty as he feels. “Everyone has a lot of questions for you back at my base that they’ll get out of you one way or another.” “Do threats actually ever help to convince anyone to do anything?” They don’t, and they never would with Shoichi. His lives have connected well enough that he is well aware of how Shoichi will stay true, even when he’s bleeding out, slow, alone. There’s always something beautiful about the way that fire burns right to the final ember of his existence. Byakuran thinks he could watch it for an eternity, if only he didn’t have the main story to get through first. Regardless, he leans down and forwards until he can pull Shoichi up effortlessly to his feet. Even with his clothing, he hardly weighs a thing, especially in comparison to Byakuran with immeasurable power behind him that could still grow so much bigger. “I thought you should at least know when you’re making a mistake,” he says, watching as Shoichi’s hands finally swing downwards. His fingers shake, quietly but violently. More from anxiety than ever any fear, Byakuran suspects, and always more exhaustion than anxiety. “We’re friends, Sho-chan, so, really, this is the least I could do!” This close, and Shoichi doesn’t really need to squint anymore to see Byakuran clearly. Weariness draws them a little further open, yet his gaze doesn’t shy away from Byakuran’s. In the world above them, in the world at large, so much has been dragged into ash and filth until brown and gray cover it as thick as any blanket. Even in places far away from civilization, the color seems to stick thicker than smog. Here, Shoichi’s eyes are still a deep green, so deep as to be untarnished jade, an oasis refusing impossible odds, poison that has burrowed past skin and flesh and blood and into Byakuran’s bones. “Friends, huh,” he says, voice a breath, an invitation.  “At the very least,” Byakuran murmurs before he accepts it, before he leans in and sweeps up those lips in a long slow kiss. Shoichi doesn’t push him away or, considering the atrophy of his body, make so much as an attempt. No struggle, no kick, no protest, not even so much as a bite. If anything, he actually leans in, palms pressing against the wall as if he’s chasing something, too. Only a centimeter keeps them separated when their lips finally part. Against all odds, the fire in Shoichi’s eyes seems to burn all the harder. Byakuran know the answer even before he wastes any breath on its opposite. “It’s still waiting for you."  He’s still waiting for him.  A kiss has hardly done anything for Shoichi’s chapped lips, the breath which rustles out from between them drying that brief wet respite. It’s hardly done anything for that look in his eyes, either. "Well, it’ll probably have to keep waiting.” Byakuran watches the muscles in his throat stick and bob, struggling for even a simple swallow. “There’s nothing else for me to do in this world. There’s no point.” On the technical aspect, he’s right, of course. The Tri-ni-sette cannot be completed in this world, even if he were to include Shoichi’s perfect brilliant flame to the Mare set. Everything Byakuran does in this particular world is only for his own amusement right now, even if that means dismantling society chunk by chunk, or seeing how far a group of people can be pushed before they shatter into pieces. Even Shoichi isn’t different from this. If he were to finally complete his route in this world, of all worlds, what would he do then? If this was Shoichi the bassist, he could have kept him sweet and separate from the dirty business of a world collapsing in on itself with his goading, could have ducked into their not-so-little apartment and played a more domestic game.  If this was Shoichi the student, he could fill his spare time molding him into something else, treat him customizable, put together all the pieces of a broken man until he wasn’t quite whole but certainly together.  If this was Shoichi the criminal… If he had stayed…  Well. There’s no world where Shoichi has ever stayed by Byakuran’s side as he’s reworked the world into something entirely different. It’s simply not a part of the route.  Byakuran accepts this easily, because he’s had to dozens of times before, in dozens of other incarnations. All he does is chuckle a little bit. “So pessimistic, Sho-chan!” “Optimistic, actually.” That’s certainly a surprise, and Byakuran has to pause, still smiling but with his eyebrows raised a little bit now. Shoichi grins at him, with just enough teeth to be a threat. He’s never felt threatened in all of his lives now, not since he was a kid in some life forgotten a long time ago, and yet that doesn’t take away the intent. “How long do you think you can keep this going, Byakuran-san? How many worlds do you think you can completely dominate?” “Ha. Well, Sho-chan, I think the answer should be fairly obvious, shouldn’t it?” He inclines his head back towards the door, hands preoccupied with Shoichi’s weight. “If I can do this much to this kind of world, then I doubt there are many others that will be as much of a challenge.” The real challenge is in completing everything, in putting together the exact right variables that will give him all of the Tri-Ni-Sette.  The real challenge is in completing everything, including finally keeping Shoichi Irie at his side.  Despite this fact, Shoichi doesn’t stop grinning, although some strength has drained from it. All his fire can’t give him the energy that his physical body lacks from little sleep and about as much food. “Well,” he says, “we’ll see about that. But nothing lasts forever, Byakuran-san. No one does.” And he grits his teeth together… and something cracks.  Later on, his doctors and researchers will marvel at the fake tooth layered over one of his real ones that had laid within Shoichi’s mouth. Such a thing would be delicate and tricky work even as a mere piece of art, yet Shoich had gone somewhere a little deeper. Literally, he’d gone deeper, apparently digging into old forgotten Estraneo strongholds and the secrets that had been abandoned a long time ago. An interesting invention- one of many, across many worlds, many mistakes- had been research into warping the body with the use of Sun flames via a set of specialized modified fangs. Creating a whole new jaw would have been impossible for even Shoich’s genius, at least with everything else he’d stacked up on top of his plate, and, considering the layout of the world, he’d probably never be able to get the necessary requirements for giving his body such base animalistic characteristics… But he didn’t need to.  All Shoichi Irie had needed was the base concept, the base technical aspects that could help active a Sun Flame within his body without the use of a Ring and change some internal trigger.  Sun Flames are activation. The Sun is energy. Too much energy, heart beating so fast as to burst, lungs quicker than the air they can absorb, mind falling apart from energy and crashing in on itself…  They’ll marvel at it all, the people he sends to investigate this, and a few will ponder if they can use this sort of technology to keep a tight rein on anyone beneath them, even if there will have to be obvious changes depending on the kind of Flame that one primarily has. Byakuran will let them ponder and experiment, because of course he will. In a world without any real goal, any real meaning to continue this particular save, he might as well, right? Yet he’ll never go on to use their findings, not in the way they intend, not even in other worlds. In the moment, in that underground bunker where Shoichi Irie lived out his last days frantically working on something that could never possibly have any meaning, Byakuran can only watch the way he jolts suddenly with an exhale so sharp that he breathes out blood… and then he goes limp.  Byakuran doesn’t smile. He can’t even act surprised. All he can really do, after a quiet moment of staring at a corpse, is lower it slowly back down onto the mattress he’s slept on for who knows how long.  Next time, then. If nothing else, he’ll always have next time.  “Byakuran-san, please, pay attention, I need you to have full understanding of the Merone Base, okay?” “I am paying attention,” he says, lips lilting up in a smile. It’s not wholly a lie. He’s always listened to Shoichi in multiple realities, even if he hasn’t listened to him on some occasions. So he’s intimately familiar with many ideas that Shoichi has brought up, some of them more solid in most realities than others.  The best realities for this sort of thing are the handful where Shoichi’s life has him meet someone born on an entirely different little island, separated from Japan by an entire continent. Byakuran doesn’t really mess with the workers on the lower end of things, which Spanner definitely qualifies as despite his own mechanical genius, but he keeps an eye on anything that is prone to influence Shoichi. In the universes where Shoichi Irie and the aptly dubbed “Spanner” meet, Shoichi almost always  comet collides into his talent with technology. Whether those are universes where Shoichi temporarily joins him… That’s a little more in the air. A coin flip, honestly, one of those things that is practically prayed to like the RNG in a gacha phone game.  That such existences are also the ones where Shoichi falls in love with another, where he burns so bright in a different direction, is something Byakuran is pretty sure he’s not jealous about. Why would he be? That happens in the occasional RPG, where your companions fall for each other if you never make a move towards them. Byakuran thinks of such occurrences, of such lives he’s lived with different lovers himself, and then stops thinking of them.  For this existence? This one in particular has Spanner working deep in the machinations of the Millefiore, not inclined to a leadership position that would take him away from the robotics that he loves so much. And Shoichi, in this one…  “Could you at least look at me when trying to feed me that lie?” Byakuran laughs again, shoulders shaking a little, before he rolls his head back along the couch to look at him upside-down. Shoichi the the Right Hand Man, the inevitable betrayer, stares right back at him before heaving out a sigh. Theoretically, he’s supposed to be clad in Millefiore lily white at all times, especially when dealing with official business here in Byakuran’s very own expansive office. Yet it’s a testament to the privilege Shoichi possesses that he can be half out of it already, revealing not a slick suit or combat ready tank top but one of his any ratty and worn band tees. If any of their subordinates caught sight of Shoichi in such a state, it would likely only further fuel the rumors Byakuran knows are out there, that Shoichi Irie slipped into his bed long before he slipped into one of the Millefiore uniforms. In some ways, they might almost be right, just never in the way they’d ever think to think.  If only Shoichi would want him enough to try and seduce him, and more than the simple fact that such a thing would be a hilarious experience. No matter the many different worlds, there’s always some… core to these characters. And it is a core part of Shoichi Irie that he’d never really be what one could call “seductive”.  “I’m looking,” he drawls, long and low, and something about all of it clearly has something to do with the way Shoichi jolts and his mouth twists. He doesn’t blush, apparently old enough to have restraint in some area even if not all of them, but Byakuran can recognize the little things like that. The Cheshire Cat smile on his face only widens. “What, Sho-chan?” “Byakuran-san, you’re…” A huff pops out of him and he strides over closer. “You know what, nevermind.” “Now now!” Byakuran laughs, reaching behind him to pull Shoichi closer once he’s in reach until his arms are folding over his shoulders and he can better see the schematics his supposed right hand is fiddling with. Still he keeps his fingers slipped through those reddish brown curls. They’re soft, comforting. A reminder that, at this stage in the game, he can still enjoy the little occurrences. Those are the kinds of things which help keep a person playing over and over again. “I encourage complete and total honesty in my subordinates, Sho-chan. It’s not good to bottle things up inside, either!” For all of Byakuran’s power- the physical where he’s become steadily good enough in close combat, the political and social where he could destroy a person’s life with a single message, the flames of his which burn through the barriers of separation and the barriers of flesh- For all of that, Shoichi in every iteration never seems to falter enough. He always manages to drum up a look of faint unimpressed exasperation, regardless of his situation. Byakuran likes the one Shoichi is wearing right now, the type where his fondness softens all of the harder edges until his affection bleeds through. If it ever becomes a dam, Byakuran suspects that will be one of the times when he’s won. “You only say those sorts of things,” Shoichi mutters, “because you find it funny when I get pissed off about things such as Glo Xinia and get petty.” “I don’t say it only because of that!” he says, even as he laughs. He laughs because it’s true, and he laughs at the ways it’s not, and because he’ll enjoy these moments where he can be with Shoichi with the Mare Sun Ring on his finger almost fake enough to make him think that this is a perfect run.  But he’s still waiting for that inevitable betrayal. There is always some core part, isn’t there?  Shoichi’s core has never made him take the final step into staying by Byakuran’s side.  Shoichi the Double Agent is a new one, although that only makes things a little more interesting. It also explains a lot, honestly, from how Shoichi had insisted on being able to take care of this younger Vongola with no reinforcements, to how he had kept their block against the Ten Year Bazooka’s effects so close at hand. Byakuran has to hand it to him- he could have been a world class actor in another world. Opposing him outright, or a heel turn at the last moment, those are the choices he’s used to. Yet he’d forgotten, in his apathy, that there was indeed a third option when it came to Shoichi Irie. There was nothing ever stopping him from going along with Byakuran’s plans while readying a knife for his back the whole while.  Faintly, he wonders if he would have bothered to stop any bit of Shoichi’s plot, at least in this world.  Probably not. All of his selves need to ignore at least one thing or go along with one plot if only to see how that might affect the timeline relevant to a completely different self.  It’s enlightening, too, listening to Shoichi explain the entire situation for the benefit of the younger Tsunayoshi Sawada’s group. While he likes to torment his many opponents with his supposed omniscience, Byakuran knows his abilities far better than anyone else. Certainly, he’s far closer to the very concept of omniscience than any other human would normally be… but he’s not quite there yet. If he knew everything, if he had the walkthrough guide to the game of his life, then he would have accomplished his main goal a thousand lifetimes ago instead of having it vex him so much. No, he only knows as much as any aspect of himself knows and shares with the rest of himself. He can’t be in multiple places at once, or, rather, he can, but they’re so detached as to something have no bearing on one another. Every life is its own, even as every life is him.  So, up until this point as he patiently takes in the meeting of his foes and Shoichi, he can’t ever have imagined that Shoichi the Underground Engineer had been thinking of this when he had questioned Byakuran’s ability to continue the game. It’s a brilliant play, a reality breaking move to match his own… and all he can do is smile, smile, smile. The inclusion of a love interest for the main character can really drag a game down, or raise it up to something so popular as to be overwhelming. A rushed and poorly thought out romance can dock a point or two from a review, while a truly heartbreaking or varied one can be the main reason why anyone even touches it.  Once upon a time, he had thought that Shoichi Irie had been just a minor side quest. Enjoyable enough on its own, sure, but no more than delving into a cave during a fantasy game for some quest or another. Entertaining in a mindless fashion. Yet even now, even without the Mare Sun’s quiet intense longing for a finger that won’t ever slip into it, he thinks that was foolish of himselves. Shoichi was never so simple as a minor side quest.  He was as vital a part of the main storyline as any party member, as any guiding NPC, as any fridged lover.  Byakuran wonders how he’ll die this time. Shoichi Irie doesn’t die.  Oh, he certainly does a lot of things that would logically lead to the death of most other people who attempted to do the same. He volunteers to be on the frontlines, despite lacking box and Ring both, staring Byakuran straight in the eyes as he says it. He helps control a moving tank of a headquarters to defend himself even when he’s being shot at. He removes himself from that tank, despite the metal being the best object of defense available to him, and forces exhausted legs to keep moving. He looks at the most powerful person in all of existence and makes demands of him despite the fact that he can’t even get up on his own two fee without assistance. All the while, he burns. Byakuran basks in it, even as he refuses to let this particular part of  the game go on any longer and denies all Shoichi would want for. This has always been a game between them, more than even the Vongola that so often seem to have a tendency of being his biggest obstacle in so many worlds. So, more than Tsunayoshi Sawada, more than the one of two remaining Arcobaleno in the world, more than anyone else, he savors the look of desperate frustrated outrage on Shoichi’s face. Out of his list of things he wants the most in the world, it’s not at his highest shelf, only perhaps in third place, and yet that’s more than good enough. Having that burning and sheering brightness focused on him alone will always place even when not in first.  Of course…. When first rolls around… When Yuni reveals herself, reveals that very puzzle Byakuran has been tearing over in so many places and times and lives, well, every gamer wants to get first place. Byakuran forgets him, save for the briefest flicker of a thought that he ought to thank him in one life or another for helping make this to be the run that finally succeeds. Loss is a new feeling, in more ways than one.  He’s lost his battle, and his war, fire stripping away flesh from bone, bone from existence. He’s lost the game.  He’s even, and especially, lost his sense of self as those flames do more than be rid of the physical. They sever him, completely, utterly, the changing of one blood red sky to something softer and quieter, and he’s never released how much was bearing down on his mind until it’s all been stripped away from him. In the last few seconds where he still exists- only himself, this self, this Byakuran Gesso who has lead this Millefiore family to where it is today in this very moment- there’s so much space to simply… think.  On a lot of things. On the very Player 2 that the Cervello once told him about, that Aria knew about with those amused deep eyes of hers, that a starving man in a lab cleaner than he was plotted so hard to bring into creation. On if perhaps this was perhaps a tester’s way of playing the game, but not how it was to be played. On if he had only been wistful when he’d seen a face twisted in quiet despair from beyond their little arena.  Next time. He wonders if there’ll be a next time.  “Just…. don’t? Alright? Can we please just, stop? I would appreciate it if you could stop. Just… stay in bed and don’t start a fight with the three other absurdly powerful people that are in this hospital.” Shoichi (the teenager, the young genius, thrice lived) tucks Byakuran into the hospital bed so securely like he thinks cotton will be enough to stop really anyone from doing anything. Byakuran lets him, and only partially because he’s surprisingly wore out. This, too, is a new experience, different from the many memories that still overwhelm him from other lives he knows but hasn’t lived. Then again, none of the lives that he’d lived had ever focused on anything but that one, singular goal. He’s never gotten to experience what it’s felt like to be shot at with full strength by one of the Arcobaleno, or seen just how much power the Vindice had been hiding beneath their dark coats for so long.  Not in many lives has he gotten to be so close to Shoichi like this, watching a face much younger than what he’s used to crumple up in an exhausted exasperation that apparently never aged a single bit since the day he was born.  It’s a brand new hospital room that he’s been moved to, now, and it’s completely empty save for the two of them. Everyone else who’d been present, those who would have been his Millefiore in another life, another future, have been looped into clean up efforts on account of the fact that none of them are so gravely injured like he is. Even Bluebell, although he’s fairly confident that she’ll do more playing than helping alongside the new friend she’d made as she’s been steadily absorbed into the Giglio Nero. That’s been slowly happening with all of them, he’s noticed quietly, and that’s probably for the better. He might not have the walkthrough guide for life- perhaps never had it- but he’s seen enough clips to know that they’d find nothing and neither would he if they stuck with him in the same path that he went down in one future that’s now ceased to exist for himself. The person at his bedside right now must know this as well, and yet.  “I don’t make any promises,” he tells Shoichi, smiling as the teenager slumps into a chair. He doesn’t look as bad as he could be, because Byakuran has seen him go through the full spectrum of destroyed and devastated and depressed…. but he does look dead tired, bags under his eyes better suited for the grave and his hair messy from lack of sleep or care. The frames of his glasses smack into his knuckles when he reaches up beneath them to rub at his eyes.  “I really wish you would.” Hands dropping down to his lap, he shifts awkwardly in his seat and glances back toward the closed door where armed guards are waiting just outside. For all his effect on the various aspects of reality, for the sheer potential of what he can do, Byakuran is always being watched. Yuni has accepted his assistance for this latest disaster, of course, but she’s surprisingly clever. That’s how she’d waited so patiently in another future, getting the Cervello into the perfect position to grant her access to the exact right place at the exact right time. Similarly, she’d agreed and complied with the Vongola when they’d requested surveillance on him. Byakuran doesn’t blame them. He’s not sure he’s still entirely attached to a lot in the world to do things like levy blame at anyone for just about any reason.  Shoichi is a direct contrast in that he doesn’t even remotely belong here, and everyone knows it. Everyone on Tsunayoshi Sawada’s side is a part of the Vongola officially now, with even the actual toddler being related to another mafia Family. The Varia, well, they don’t need any introduction to those who are a part of this life. The same can be said for Mukuro Rokudo’s lot, all criminals in their own right, and every single one of the Arcobaleno are wanted for their skills in both ways that can mean. Shoichi Irie is only a middle schooler at a good school whose family has been told that he was going to a tutor who could refer to him a good college while, the last some nights, he’s been involved in the life and death battles of overpowered criminal organizations and helping build a giant super robot that most college students could only dream of. If he wanted to wash his hands of everything, then he would have at least a 50% chance of success with how soft hearted the Vongola, Giglio Nero, and Cavallone could all be.  Yet here he is, one heel bobbing up and down through the air down to the floor while his hand remains loosely curled over his stomach. “I’ve killed you, you know,” Byakuran says casually, stretching his fingers along the too-clean sheets of his bed. From the corner of his eye, he can see Shoichi’s leg promptly freeze its jiggling. “In a lot of different timelines.” Even if it wasn’t directly, well, his hand was always buried deep in that particular pie.  It takes a long few seconds before Shoichi remembers to breathe. With his exhale, the invisible strings keeping his body upright seem to vanish and he slumps forwards. His hands curling into that curly hair are a sight Byakuran is intimately familiar with. “I know, Byakuran-san,” he says, polite even after all of this, across multiple realities. Polite even he sounds as though he would rather be having anything but this kind of conversation, preferably in a bed of his own somewhere.  Well, with how their first meeting in this particular universe had involved Shoichi yelling at everyone else about how he wasn’t to be trusted, it’s sort of a given that he knows. Regardless. “I thought you might need a reminder,” he replies, head falling back a little further into his pillow. Despite how long people can end up staying, hospital pillows really are garbage, he’s come to find. Even when the mafia is involved. And a little bit of the yakuza.  Shoichi’s fingers keep sliding further backwards, catching tangles and tugging free of them until he can rest them curved over the back of his neck. “Thanks for that,” he deadpans. As with many worlds, Byakuran seems to have a talent for getting rid of that patience, even in the times where Shoichi never holds it against him. With that, his head drops, glasses threatening to bounce right off of his face.  It occurs to him, then, that there might be something else responsible for the darkened skin under Shoichi’s eyes and the weight dragging his spine ever further down towards irreparable back pain. It’s something that he’s had to deal with for…. something that feels like years, but which he knows, by the way people quantify time, hasn’t actually happened. Yet that realization only makes Shoichi’s choice to be here over anywhere else in even this whole building alone a… puzzling mystery. His smile shifts a little bit, not as bright and careless, and he finally asks the question he’s been wondering for days and days now. “Why are you here, then, Sho-chan?” That gets Shoichi to looks up at him again, blinking a few times in pure befuddlement. “What?” “I’ve killed you a lot of times,” Byakuran answers patiently, still looking straight at him. This young, and his eyes seem a little darker than the brilliant green he has so many memories of. “I could kill you in this universe, too. So why are you still here taking care of me, Sho-chan? There are others you could get to do this.” Shoichi breathes in slowly again, and removes his hands from his neck with about the same speed. “I’ve been wondering that myself,” he admits. “But, Byakuran-san… You haven’t killed me yet.” …Huh. That actually wipes the smile from his face. When all Byakuran does is stare, head flopping to the side too quickly to be called a 'curious tilt’, Shoichi promptly flusters a nice red and jerks his shoulders up. “I know!” he snaps, which would be an overreaction if they didn’t know each other so well. Have known each other so well even without ever having met before in this lifetime before a little over a week ago, maybe. “I know the, the yet is kind of a, it’s a pressing point, there’s nothing guarantee that you won’t just…. do the same terrible horrible things all over again!” Every ounce of stillness is gone from him now. Free from their anchor along his own skin, Shoichi’s hands start to go flying everywhere as he gestures wildly. “I- I remember the kinds of things you can do, I know for a fact, and you’ve definitely proved that you can just… You’re not any weaker from that point in time, as far as I can tell! But I just-” He draws one hand back, raking it a lot more harshly through his hair than before. “I can remember you dying.” Brows drawn tight together, his eyes… They’re not burning, not in the way that Byakuran has become so accustomed to, and yet they’re an altogether different kind of intense that has him forgetting to even blink.  Shoichi says nothing more on that, says nothing on what was going through his mind as he watched even Byakuran’s very bones turn to ash on the wind. He doesn’t need to. In every lifetime of his that Byakuran has ever seen, his goal has always been to oppose him eventually, inevitably.  It’s simply never been a goal, he realizes then, that he’d ever reach with any element of personal happiness attached.  A single shuddering breath breaks the silence, and Shoichi continues with a trembling voice that’s only barely calmer than his frantic explanation from a second before. “But you haven’t killed me yet,” he repeats, like a spell. “Whatever will happen in the future, or any other futures, it just… It hasn’t happened yet. So I’m just going to deal with the now, with what we’ve actually done, before anything else.” That phrasing tips him off to what’s going on in that brain of his, and Byakuran eases back into his pillows a little bit more. “Hey, Sho-chan,” he says, making sure that he’s snapped out his own brain before continuing. When he’s sure he’s gotten his attention, Byakuran smiles. “You remember two different lives, hm?” His flinch says it all. Most of those who were tightly bound with that one particular future were, to his understanding and one way or the other, given some memories of the event. Byakuran’s knowledge of it is incomplete, admittedly, on account of that self being dead by that point, but he can extrapolate enough. The latest battle demonstrated well enough the combined abilities of the world’s greatest scientist, the unparalleled abilities of the Millefiore’s once-own professional Gola Mosca engineer, and everything that Shoichi Irie is. That sort of thing would have been easy enough for them to do, to the embarrassment of no doubt many other scientists in the world.  Yet there’s a problem with that. For all the others- the tenth generation of the Vongola, the reclusive and violent lot under Mukuro Rokudo, the Varia- they’d only remember the memories of that single time, perhaps an entire lifetime depending on what adjustments had been made for individuals such as Xanxus and Dino of the Cavallone. Yet even before he had died, Byakuran had learned enough to know that Shoichi Irie wasn’t anything like the rest of those who would remember that future, and in a way that had nothing to do with his favoritism for the other. Shoichi had been able to do what he’d done because a future version of himself had trapped a younger version of himself in his future long enough to suppress his memories of time travel, implant sleeper memories of that entire future along with plans to stop Byakuran, and then send him back into the past with the hopes that would stop something. Anything. By the time Captain Shoichi Irie of the Millefiore, double agent, had prepared his machine to let the Vongola’s tenth gen go back to their own time, he'd already been carrying the memories of an entirely different life and future around with him.  When Shoichi Irie the simple teenager had gotten those memories again, he’d remembered not just one other life, but two entirely separate ones, layered on top of the memories he has of his own life in this universe now.  Forcing himself to relax to what Byakuran finds to be mixed success, Shoichi leans forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands holding onto himself. “How… How do you deal with it?” he asks softly.  Byakuran jazz hands towards himself.  Shoichi squeezes his eyes shut in accompaniment to the scrunching of his mouth. “Alright, I- nevermind. I take back that question. It’s obvious how youdealt with it.” “Ha ha.” “Stop that.” Reaching up, he drags one hand down his face. “Please. Ugh, I think I’m going to be sick again…” “You’ve picked no better place for it, Sho-chan!"  "Please, just…. stop that too.” Sneakers scruffing against linoleum, he slumps backwards into his seat and delegates one hand to wrap around his stomach again. His other hand stays right where it is up against his face. “Okay, if you can’t… promise that you won’t get into a fight with the other super-powered forces of nature also being treated in this hospital, can you…” He falters, for a moment, no doubt remembering so many promises that Byakuran failed to keep. “…Just don’t do that again. Alright? Don’t… try any of those timelines again.” There’s a lot Byakuran could say about that, how he’s clearly lost so many rounds that he can at least gracefully step back from the controller, that he’s honestly become sort of tired after so many different livetimes where he worked so hard for something that he couldn’t get past…. But he doesn’t. That’s a conversation that can, maybe, come at a different time. For now, he only continues to smile slightly in Shoichi’s direction. “There are other things I want to do now, Sho-chan,” he answers, which isn’t really false in any way. It’s only simplified.  Shoichi takes what reassurance he can squeeze out of that response, nodding his head as if it’s made of lead. “Okay,” he says, quietly. “Okay. So I guess that’s… taken care of for now. I guess.” Even with armed guards, it’s good to see that even Shoichi is aware that Byakuran is only really contained when he wants to be. “Now all we have to do is just… focus on the present.” He whistles a breath out between his teeth. “Easier said than done.” While Byakuran’s own case far outdoes just about anyone else’s situation, well, that doesn’t change the fact that they’re both in the same boat of remembering more lives than 99.9% of the planet. How are they to move on so neatly, “live in the present”, when their minds are tied up in so many knot of other futures, other experiences, that they can barely stay put together? Byakuran nudges his hand a little closer to the metal railing of his bed, the failed purpose of which is to keep him in place. “Taking over the world is still an option, Sho-chan. And I’d still make you my Number 2, even.” The expression directed his way would be alarmed, if it wasn’t weighed down with so much exasperated annoyance instead. “Byakuran-san, what did I just say.” Prying his hand away from his face, Shoichi huffs. “Maybe Yuni-san would know… Even if I feel bad about bothering a little girl about this sort of thing. She wanted to talk with me anyway sometime this week…” Consider Byakuran’s interest stirred. “Oh, Yuni-chan wanted to talk with you? About what?” Rolling his head back, Shoichi is too exhausted to even look at him this time. “She wasn’t clear. Just that she wanted to talk with me and… Daisy-san…?” The sudden laughter that bursts forth from Byakuran’s mouth has Shoichi snap up in surprise. “What? What’s so funny!?” Grinning widely, Byakuran wipes away a tear of mirth from his eye with the heel of his hand. “Nothing big, Sho-chan,” he says, which is so transparent a lie that he doesn’t feel bad about it. Once again, he suspects he’s been outmaneuvered by a child, although the women of the Giglio Nero are so strange and otherwordly that perhaps he shouldn’t be surprised. He has a suspicion of what exactly she aims to speak to Shoichi about.  Which leaves all the burden of effort on him now, doesn’t it? He allows his eyes to slide shut, comfortable exactly where he is. This entire time, perhaps he’s been playing the game all wrong, gotten the objectives all mixed up. Perhaps this isn’t even the game he thought it was. If that’s the case…  “I think I want to try things your way, Sho-chan.” And, for the first time in so many lifetimes, he feels a light touch at his own hand in return. 

[lookwhatilost]

i finished my second watch of bojack s6 p1 and here’s a predictably massive post of some thoughts/observations abt it

spoilers under the cut obviously

the “fuck” of the season definitely came in a moment that i didn’t expect, but i rly liked how it was used. like, it was a callback to when gina dropped it in the last season –– something that traumatized her vs a reaction to her PTSD symptoms. a lot of people seem unhappy w it but i think it’s more powerful than people are giving it credit for being

the gatsby reference in e3 rly brought to mind that there are, like, a lot of gatsby tie-ins w this show and i never rly pasted them together mentally bc of the ubiquity of the “rich guy is utterly depressed and alone” trope. like, the imagery related to the pool, the shallow parties, the yellow car, the spacious but empty house, the billboards staring him down as he drives when he’s hallucinating in s5. charlotte/daisy being a weak parallel in that he had feelings for her when they were younger, held onto them for years, only for her to be married when they reconnect, but it’s worth mentioning that the glow stick balloons were green.

someone on reddit pointed out that jameson’s baby in e1 had physical traits associated w fetal alcohol syndrome. like, short, upturned nose, eyes that are far apart, and low ears. it’s hard to say if it’s intentional, but he’s drawn w a lot more detail than a lot of the other babies i’ve seen in the show. if it’s purposeful, like, that’s amazing attention to detail

i liked how the season opened on a planetarium flashback, because honestly, the immediate aftermath of sarah lynn’s death is definitely kind of glossed over in s3 when it initially happens. and though i suppose the added information isn’t terribly surprising (like him lying abt the events that lead up to her overdose and minimizing his own role in it as much as possible), it did make me wonder why i hadn’t thought abt it before

bojack rly does show signs of serious growth in the 6th season and it’s cool to finally see him move forward w/o simultaneously backsliding in other ways. a lot of his good actions in previous seasons were only rly things that benefitted him. and there are a lot of examples of it, but i think the one that stuck out to me the most was w his therapist. when he fell off the wagon, it’d have been rly easy for bojack to look the other direction and walk away like we’ve seen him do before. realistically, he has no real incentive to care for doctor champ’s wellbeing if he’s no longer staying at pastiches, but he checks him into rehab anyway, and when doctor champ throws his insecurities in his face to be hurtful, he immediately identifies it for the petty jab it is instead of letting it fuel his negative thoughts and using it as an excuse to dive into self-destructive behavior. honestly e6 was the emotional high water mark of part 1, even though it wasn’t the kind of gut punch that the dramatic, narrative focused episodes of bojack tend to be

i’m glad that the writers finally /did/ something w todd that made him feel like an actual character instead of jst a device for the comedy part of the show. i used to watch this show w a friend and we always used to say that todd had very little depth given the amount of screen time he occupies and seeing them move away from that was refreshing. his struggle w jorge is very relatable as someone whose parents have always pushed me towards things i didn’t sincerely want based on their expectations and desires for me vs my actual opinions of what success and happiness would look like for myself. but, on the other side of the coin, there’s finally a little bit of confrontation of the fact that todd’s erratic behavior and shenanigans are very taxing things for people who care abt him to deal w. and todd is rly the only character who’s somehow defied the show’s formula in that he never faces accountability for the things he does. like, he’s enabled PB’s impulsivity many times and drove him to bankruptcy, care of PB Livin’, and it’s a detail in the show that’s never truly been acknowledged or talked abt at all. he fucked PC over when he wouldn’t follow through w his sham marriage to courtney, and it was met w a cheesy speech from her abt how he needs to follow his heart and do what he thinks is right. it always struck me as a weird oversight, and to finally see someone take him to task for how taxing his behavior can be was refreshing. his only other “depth” was the asexual stuff and honestly? that is stupid and does not actually count for anything

if it didnt warm your heart when PC named her daughter ruthie then you dnt have one. i wasn’t as invested in her narrative as i’d have liked to be, but its good when PC is happy and that’s what everyone wants

IM SO GLAD JUDAH IS BACK. also i still hope he and PC end up together (and maybe she has a viable pregnancy this time w him a la sex and the city charlotte but that’s a little too cornball sappy for this show). generally rly enjoyed how characters from previous seasons were incorporated this time around. but i dnt want them to bring back vincent adultman jst to spite everyone who’s always saying “bring back vincent adultman”

pickles is still my least favorite character even tho the surprise wedding episode was probably the one i found the funniest. realistically i wanna see things work out for PB but his relationship w her is obviously not the move for him, and she’s also the worst

i like diane and guy together, they have rly good chemistry but i also have a bad feeling abt where things are headed w them. he seems ambivalent abt how principled she is and the scene where his son comes to the party and he makes her leave when he could have jst introduced her as a party guest if it even needed to happen at all... there was jst something off abt it. like you can definitely see the cracks in the foundation already and it’s disappointing

the scene btwn PB and bojack where bojack says to him “but i understand that feeling of needing to bottle up your guilt, not burden other people w it. you think you’re protecting them from your toxicity, you convince yourself that you’re being selfless, but it comes out in other ways and it infects everything” hit close to home bc it reminded me of someone i used to bond over this show w and like... whew

i rly love how the dominoes are being set up w the reporters (even tho their his girl friday shtick got old fast) bc the way things are culminating, the story getting out is liable to expose bojack for everything. if they approach penny and she talks to them abt what happened, she’s liable to tell them that bojack and sarah lynn went to ohio to find her in the time before sarah lynn overdosed, and the pictures that her classmates took of them could establish a time frame. he was in new mexico when he was supposed to be filming secretariat, and that knowledge could lead to them finding out that he’d been digitally replaced in the movie. when this information gets out, it’s very likely that gina will dogpile onto it w the truth abt what happened on the set of philbert, since trying to conceal her ptsd is actively hurting her acting career bc of the reputation she’s developing as a problem actress, and even though she dznt *want* to be “that girl that got choked by bojack horseman”, she won’t have a choice if she can’t get jobs otherwise. i guess there’s always a chance that penny and charlotte won’t talk to them, but now that hollyhock knows about what happened in new mexico, either way his personal life will be hurt by this. i’m not sure what’ll happen to him professionally, since there’s a recurring point the series has been making w famous people never being held fully culpable for their negative actions, and it’s a dicey thing for them to approach w a character that many viewers find sympathetic without ending on some myopic note abt cancel culture (whether intentionally or by popular interpretation) but im excited

i also hate how my obsessive watching and rewatching of this show meant that the intended pete repeat reveal (like, you’re not supposed to recognize him until his identity becomes obvious through the prom night story) was sort of compromised for me bc i recognized his voice and the second he introduced himself, i placed him IMMEDIATELY but it was still such a great scene. it’s the most tense i remember feeling when watching and an all around great cliffhanger

the final line of e7 comes off as some rly grim foreshadowing–– “it looks like you found solace in our show. stay if you’d like. in 30 minutes, we start over”. but it’s such an incredible line in context. my god, i fucking love this show, you guys

[chirpy-poppy]

Jin - ice king, in more ways than one Tries to act cool to hide the fact that his brain has iced over and is slipping out of his skull. "Did I say you could touch me?" PC apologizes and he realizes he failed to express what he wanted to say again. Kicks you out of his room so he can combust in private. Tohma was secretly watching the whole time and asks you if Jin's cheeks are soft the next time the three of you are in the room. He gets teleported to a landfill by Jin's artifact.

Tohma - act fool, act fool "Well, well, well. Trying something new?" Lets you know he is fine with it but that other boys might see it as something else. Continues on as usual but step away from you in case you can hear how his heart beat quickens. Before you leave for the day, he re-emphasizes how he is the only one who won't take your actions the wrong way while totally letting his brain take it the wrong way.

Kaito - ded My boi is not surviving. Screams in excitement and then regrets ruining the moment immediately after. Is convinced you are still taking your relationship platonically still because of how he acted afterwards. Still, he can die happy now.

Luca - confused Straight up asks you what you are doing/what your intentions are. Totally understands where you are coming from but excuses himself to calm down.

Alan - poker face = 0 Scolds you to stay away from him while turning into a tomato. When you tell him it's just something you do, he warns you how men can take it the wrong way and take advantage of you. Super obvious dude. Stares at your lips and lifts his fingers to brush where you'd kissed him every time he "thinks" you aren't looking. Extra gentle when shaving the area your lips were.

Sho - takes it as a green light "Senpai?" Catches your wrist as you turn to do something else. Starts getting much more touchy with you from then on. You don't mind since you are normally very physically affectionate in this scenario, but he wishes you would start taking notice of what he's doing. He starts pushing the limit of what's platonically acceptable. Expect bear hugs, hair brushed out of your face, and finger kisses every time he asks you to "help" him with something.

Leo - no As if you'd ever have enough affection platonically or otherwise to willingly get within 10 feet of this thing.

Haru - bahnti You've sent him to space. Literally. He is not used to being loved upon in any capacity. Your kiss and enhancement ability accidentally sets off his stigma, and when he jumps out of his seat in surprise, he finds himself on the moon.

Towa - x1000 Smooches you right back. He does not have a very good understanding of love/affection anyway. When you explain that a kiss can mean something other than true love, he understands it as being something good friends like the two of you should be doing all the time. You are physically affectionate? Not when compared to Towa.

Ren - tsundare Threatens to sue you for s*xual h*rrasment, obviously. No matter what you say next, he tells you to shut up because his heart cannot take it, no matter what it is. Spends every day after wondering when you'd kiss him again even though he told you off on it last time. Will make zero effort to fulfil his dreams though.

Taiga - dangerous game First off, I commend your courage for being so close to him. He'd probably know who you are at this point in your conversation, assuming you didn't just spring up on him to give him a smooch. "Feeling frisky, Kitty?" Does not let you go. Even as you try to explain yourself, you are now at his mercy.

Romeo - beauty before babes Will stare at you incredulously. "You--" A trembling hand goes up to touch the spot you kissed. You have no idea what's going on. Suddenly, he's gone and you can hear the caps of a million beauty products popping off in his restroom and Romeo absolutely losing it. Whether that is because you kissed him or because the pH of saliva does not match that of skin, we'll never know.

Ritsu - a 'pragmatic' kind of guy Pulls out a marriage certificate. "What do you mean you aren't trying to get married?" Explains to you all the benefits of marriage. The legal and financial ones, of course. Convinced it would be so much more efficient if he had his business partner together with him as his legally wedded. Assure you you'd get PTO as stated by the law.

Subaru - oh boy Goes into panic mode also because he just saw a bunch of your memories. Apology storm commences. He'd avoid you afterwards because the guilt makes him want to tear up his insides every time he sees you, but when he learns you are hurt by his avoidance, he (after rehearsing his speech with Haku 10000 times) goes to talk to you. Very relieved but still feels bad when you tell him you don't mind him seeing your memories. Asks you to not do it again, but lets you know it made him happy.

Haku - you're dating now Spins what you did way out of proportion and tells you his headcannons. Will take you out on a date because you "didn't even buy him dinner first." Man saw a chance and took it. "PC, I think you missed my lips."

Zenji - inspired I think OP covered this one very well already. Would 10/10 compose way too many songs about it. Doesn't matter why you did it; it still inspired him. He's very convinced he felt it even though he can't.

Ed - on his own theories "Oh? Are you that frustrated?" Laughs when you try to explain it was just a friendship thing. "I can smell you sensuality building." Tries and fails to remember the last time he'd gotten a kiss. Tells you about a conspiracy video he watched about ghosts who steal your soul with a kiss but assures you he'd be fine if you ended his long life in such a romantic way. "You are such a gentle kisser, my dear."

Rui - how? Boy jumped back against the wall when you began to even lean in. "Oi, oi! Touching a face like this isn't free." He is incredibly moved you'd even consider kissing him though, as a friend or otherwise. The insecure thoughts he hides behind his flirtations quiet down for the rest of the night as he secretly stares at you longingly from behind the bar counter.

Lyca - somehow the only one who got it "Neros used to do that to me too before bed. But it's still the afternoon, PC." Totally took it as a friendship thing too. His ears would pop up though in surprise. He still takes it as a gesture of closeness and trust.

Yuri - error 404: file not found Have you seen his reaction to hand holding? Boi starts screaming/stammering how scandalous you are. He's convinced you've defiled him even though a part of his mind does not mind being defiled one bit. He might have to surgically remove that part of him. Commands you marry him now because who else can marry him now when he's in such a state? Take some responsibility!

Jiro - romantic but not Catches you from the chair you balanced on in order to reach his face. "You okay?" he asks, bending over you as you bend backwards over his arm ballroom-dance style. Does not react much to what happened. Just another day on the job.

Somebody needs to write about PC kissing the ghouls on the cheek scenarios. PC who is just really physically affectionate but has been holding back from showing it cuz of the sudden curse and being in a new place but as she gets more used to Darkwick, she lets herself be more affectionate with her friends. The kissing on the cheek is platonic from pc's side tho. Like imagine PC kissing Kaito on the cheek as she is so grateful for him being there for her always. Kaito's reaction would be so funny. Like bro is gonna ascend . He is going to scream out of excitement and the entire Darkwick is going to know lol. PC kissing Haku's cheek after he walks her to the cathedral. Haku's flirting going to max but he is blushing internally. The angst of PC going in to kiss Rui but remembers that she will die,so she can't kiss Rui. Absolute chaos after PC gives a kiss to Lyca. The surprised reaction from Jin. Ren "ewww what was that" but wishing she would do it again. Taiga one would be hilarious. Like who are you ? What did you do to my cheek? Gun firing. She can't kiss Zenji but still does and Zenji starts composing poems on the spot even though he can't feel the kiss. This scenario is so fun

[atlantisking]

knowing how people on tumblr are, doing this is actually terrifying, my anxiety is all over the place but my conscience is more important than what people might throw at me or whether they block me or not.

i have a friend, they don’t need to be named. i hear often about their terrible situation, having a step-father who suffers from narcissistic personality disorder, but rather it’s his immediate environment that suffers from it. people he latches onto, fools them until it’s too late. their mother is stuck in a terrible marriage with a monster who does nothing to battle this condition, rather tortures the two people around him. it’s not my story to tell, but it horrifies me, because to the outside world this man seems perfect, charming and lovable, exactly how he wants to be seen.

now imagine that’s a woman and she’s in the perfect profession as well, in a place where she’ll be admired by millions. she also latches onto people and tortures them and would not let them go, otherwise terrible consequences will occur. yet someone dares to make that move and behold, the wrath of the narcissist is upon them. she plays everything for the media, everything for the public to still love and adore her, but she shows no actual legal weight, nothing that would hold up in court. she won the public side so much so that she could truly destroy her partner in ways that matter a lot.

i have to say i was one of those people who were fooled as well. i felt guilty because i have liked the man in question, i looked up to him and therefore i felt i needed to counterbalance, but it only took a few tabloid articles to be convinced instead of truly looking into the case. now i have read all that’s out there and weighing that evidence i want to say that i was wrong. now this might turn around, and then i will come here and will say again that i was wrong, but you know what? it’s good to admit that.

we live in a culture of purity nowadays that is absolutely unhealthy. everyone needs to be perfectly pc and everyone always has to say the right things and the right words, you make one mistake and the public crucifies you as if they have no faults of their own, as if they have never stumbled in their life. people are afraid to admit to their faults because then the witch hunt begins and therefore they start to believe that everything they do is good and righteous. that’s not a healthy way to live.

at this moment in time i feel strongly that i was wrong reading through available evidence and i’m here willing to admit that. even though i have to state, this sort of matter between two people should not be our business, it’s personal. 

the story itself resonates with me, not just because i know a person who has to live with a narcissist, but let me tell you, reading through everything that happened, the narcissistic traits shine through clear as day. but i have also been emotionally abused for 6 years in my past relationship, i was isolated, i was broken, and when i finally got away, i took everything i could when i walked out, i left many things that were dear to me that i’ll never get back. but becoming free of that suffocating influence was worth it. this person does not act this way.

my husband whom i’ve been married to nearly 3 years now and have known for 7, he is the light of my life. he brought me back from my broken self like no one could’ve. he was also emotionally abused by his own mother but he turned it around and chose to give to the world, and he gave so much to me. without him i could not be the person i am today, and i’m still learning how to love myself. but i said he was also abused and something we both share is anger issues. most of the time we don’t argue, we’re great. but sometimes things snap and i know i can push the wrong buttons, no relationship is perfect and really you have to try and take a deep breath, but when anger just wants to explode in you it’s so hard to dial it back. now, i only shout, but he needs to lash out. he punches the wall or something to try and channel that anger. there is still a whole on the inside of our bedroom door, there is a scar on his fist when he punched a desk so hard it cut his skin deep open and he bled heavily. you might think that sounds horrible, but here’s the thing, i know, for a fact that he’ll never hurt me. that’s not who he is, he never had those urges. i have never in my life felt threatened by him and i will fight the whole world for him, because he just needs to channel that anger somehow and he is doing his best to work on it and he’s been doing great actually.

such a vulnerability has been used against this other man in question, a moment when he’s in a period in his life when he’s deeply hurt and he had a couple (only a couple, the word meaning 2) instances of publicly lashing out, but never towards loved ones. no person close to this man could say anything else but good things about him, people who have no real incentive to lie, people who are strong and would’ve come out a million times if anything bad would’ve happened to them but they never had to.

i’m in literal tears over this as pieces of this make me feel very personally about what has transpired. so this is what i’ll say at the end, everyone, every single person claiming they’ve been abused should be listened to. not believed. every person should be listened to, they need to be given a safe and caring space in which they feel they can share their story. and that story needs to be weighed and measured in the court of law. not by the public. you have no business there. the law is not perfect but it weighs the evidence and is impartial, and you might think that’s not important, but once you’re emotionally invested your judgement goes out the window and that’s not how justice should work. i am emotionally invested. i am a victim of abuse. but i still believe this is the right way.

i have said no names throughout this, but i’m sure you know what i’m talking about. if you feel you need to block me, then do so, but i keep an open mind and looking at strictly the evidence this is where my conclusion lies at the moment. i have felt it important to state once again that i feel i was wrong before and i urge you to just look at the facts. the court papers are out there.

[vvakarians]

DA 20 Questions

Tagged by @goblin-deity ! Thank you fam! If anyone wants to be tagged consider yourself tagged!

1. Favorite game of the series

Inquisition! It’s the one I started with! It’s an amazing and beautiful game. 

2. How did you discover Dragon Age? 

There was a cosplayer I used to follow here on tumblr that cosplayed as this character named Dorian, and then they cosplayed as Fenris. I looked into both characters because I really liked the designs. From there I checked out the game from the library and fell in love with DAI!

3. How many times have you played the games?

I’ve played DAI too many times to count, I can probably count on my pc, which is a handful of times, otherwise on my ps4 at least 25. DA2 I’ve completed exactly twice, played it four times. DA:O I’ve completed exactly once, but played multiple times, like three times I think.

4. Favorite race to play as?

Elves or qunari!

5. Favorite class?

I absolutely love mages, always have. In DAI I play as a necromancer or knight enchanter, in DA2 I play as a blood mage or a spirit healer. I have a harder time playing as one in Origins, but I usually play as a blood mage or an arcane warrior. Other than that I play as a Double Handed Warrior, usually a Reaver or some other scary subclass lmao.

6. Do you play through the games differently or do you make the same decisions?

In general I usually make the same choices kind of? Mostly because I can’t push myself to ally with the templars. I do edit my canons outside of the actual games, like Calliope allies with the Mages but they do end up saving the templars as well, just after they get to Skyhold. Artemaeus, my city elf who was adopted by the Dalish, sided with the mages but left the templars to fend for themselves (save for Barris who did not deserve to die). Honi, my Adaar, sided with the mages and conscripted the templars, she was pretty harsh on them but decided that both sides could benefit from coming together. In general I haven’t changed my stance on the Grey Wardens, it wasn’t their fault that Clarel had a moment of weakness in being manipulated and I couldn’t find my Inquisitors justifying anger towards them enough to banish them. With Halamshiral I can’t in any way place Celene on the throne, it’s just my personal thing. After reading Masked Empire I said nah. But if ya like her that’s cool. I don’t usually have someone drink from the Well, I considered it with Callie, but I felt that shit could go down from a Solas perspective and I was not about that angst. 

7. Go to adventuring party?

1st World State: Tauriel Mahariel /Ophelia Hawke/ Calliope Lavellan

DAO: Alistair/Zevran or Leliana/Morrigan or Wynne 

DA2 (When I need Anders): Anders/ Aveline/ interchangeable rogue

DA2 (When I need Fenris): Fenris/ Sebastian or Varric / Merrill

DAI (Base Game): Solas/ Sera or Cole/ Iron Bull

DAI (Hakkon): Dorian/ Iron Bull/ Sera or Cole

DAI (Descent): Vivienne/ Iron Bull/ Sera

DAI (Trespasser): Dorian /Iron Bull / Interchangeable rogue

2nd World State: Aviel Tabris / Valentyne Hawke / Honi Adaar

DAO: Alistair / Leliana or Zevran / Wynne

DA2: Anders (or Merrill)/ Isabela / Fenris (or Aveline)

DAI: Dorian (or Vivienne) / Sera / Iron Bull (or Blackwall)

3rd World State: Mah’Vir Surana / Sparrow Hawke / Artemaeus Lavellan

DAO: Zevran / Morrigan / Alistair (or Sten)

DA2: Fenris / Merrill (or Anders) / Interchangeable Rogue

DAI: Dorian (or Solas) / Cole or Sera / Cassandra

8. Which of your characters did you put the most thought into?

Calliope 100%, I put most of the thought into my first world state characters. Tauriel was the easiest to make and her canon hasn’t changed much, same with Ophelia, but all three of my heroes were well, well thought out. I’ve had four or five years of making them under my belt.

9. Favorite romance?

For angst, absolutely Solas. You can’t get much more angsty than that. Other than that my most favorite romance is Fenris’, he’s a character that I love greatly and as a sexual abuse survivor with PTSD I related to him a lot lmao. 

10. Have you read any of the comics/books?

I have all of the books except for Last/First Flight (?), I’m currently reading Masked Empire. I also have the World of Thedas Volume...2? And I have the first Magekiller comic.

11. If you’ve read them, which was your favorite book? 

Masked Empire for sure, it’s because I love Felassan.

12. Favorite DLC’s?

Trespasser or Jaws of Hakkon, I absolutely love the stories in both. I’m also biased towards my favorite of the series/I love killing Dragons. And Veil Quartz, I love Veil Quartz.

13. Things that annoy you?

The fandom mostly. I fucking hate some of y’all shits. I hate the lack of rep too, they did fucking great in DA2 with almost every LI being bisexual. Could have done that with DAI with the straight LI’s but, shrugs. Other than that I don’t hate it much. 

14. Orlais or Ferelden?

Orlais, it has the Emerald Graves and I love big ass trees. 

15. Templars or mages?

Is that even a question? Mages

16.  If you have multiple characters, are they in different/parallel universes or in the same one?

I have three separate world states, and then an AU with @trans-aloth . Calliope’s has at least 25 separate oc’s in it because I’m a fucking menace. Other than that they usually stay seperate. Alexx and I combined worldstates with Cianan and Callies for that AU. 

17. What did you name your pets?

I only have names for Calliopes world state pets, but I will def name the rest of the others when I play. 

Tauriel: Kili (mabari)

Cassiopeia: Ser Claws (mabari)

Merielle: Howl (mabari)

Serynn: Athena (mabari)

Fen’Asha: Pluto (mabari)

Ophelia: Willoughby (mabari)

Calliope: Bones (Deepstalker) , Enasalin (Dracolisk) 

18. Have you installed any mods? 

I did way back when I thought my computer could handle it. Still got all of them downloaded but I play primarily on my ps4 or ps3.

19. Did your Warden want to be a Grey Warden? 

Tauriel had accepted the fact that she needed to become a Warden and only was angry about it when Duncan said that it was no place for the children. She managed to convince him to let her take them however. Cassie did not want to become a Warden and fought it tooth and nail, but had nowhere else to go. Serynn had accepted it wholeheartedly, it wasn’t much of an issue. Merielle wanted to get out of the Circle but was difficult in taking the Ritual because she didn’t like the fatality rate. Fen’Asha was also in that same boat and at first saw it as another injustice. 

20. Hawke’s personality? 

Ophelia is a securely purple unless dealing with templars, then it’s Red through and through. Halcyon (their eldest sister) is a Red Hawke, Blue with her family, and Hero is a Blue Hawke, Red with templars.

21. Did you make matching armor for your companions in Inquistion? 

Yes! I usually do! I use a gold/red/black color scheme, so it involves a lot of fucking Dragon Bone. 

22. If your character could go back in time and change one thing what would it be?

Tauriel would have gone back and saved Tamlen. She would have insisted that they look for him and at the very least if they found him they would make him a Grey Warden too. If that wasn’t an option she’d make sure Evra and Krie didn’t get traumatized by the fact their father was killed by a mirror of all things. 

Ophelia would go back in time and watch their mother more closely, or perhaps ask Carver not to go to the Deep Roads with them. Leandra’s death was the hardest thing they ever had to go through aside from handing Carver over to the Grey Wardens. The estate just felt so empty without Leandra. 

Calliope would go back in time and save their best friend from being taken by the templars. But they also realize that things would have been vastly different or the both of them that way. And they also realize that they were pretty young when Isi was taken from the Clan, they wouldn’t have been able to do much. It’s just something that haunts them to this day. 

23. Do you have any headcanons about your character(s) that go against canon?

Calliope is a mage and a warrior, SO I MEAN. Calliope’s home clan is also from Orlais and their mother is a former slave from Tevinter who then went to the Kirkwall Circle after being captured in the Free Marches.Other than that they end up with a First Enchanter that’s an oc of @trans-aloth ‘s. I also have an oc that ends up with Varric, because I have a distaste for the real life Bianca. Tauriel also ends up in a poly relationship with Cassiopeia and Alistair. Other than that, Alistair, Zevran, and several other people are trans. 

24. Who did you leave in the Fade?

Stroud, all three times.

25. Favorite mount?

Dracolisk’s or any of the Harts, I love ugly boys and giant elk.

[crowleplays]

Phobos Deimos

Basics

Name ► Phobos Deimos Nickname[s] ► Pho, PD, Cinders (she does not enjoy this one at all) Blood Color ► Yellow Age ► 14 sweeps Voiceclaim ► Angel Coulby D.O.B. ► March 20 Astrological Sign ► Pisces/Aries cusp Alignment ► Chaotic Neutral Gender ► Female Height ► 5’2” Weight ► 142 lbs Body Type ► Pear shaped, toned but still soft Orientation ► Pansexual but good luck getting her to open up romantically Occupation[s] ► Witch and owner of an occult shop, which sells items of varying magical legitimacy and safety Lusus ► Springbok Antelope Abilities Psionics ► Spiritual & Arcane Perception – Phobos is able to pick up on spiritual and arcane activity and energies, the latter of which she’s generally able to identify the type for. She’s also able to see most ghosts. Other Abilities ► Fire, Sand, Light, and Healing/Growth Magic – She’s a witch it’s her MO. Not obscenely powerful, but enough to be on par with a gifted psionic. Flight – She has wings structured like a hummingbird hawk moth’s, which allow her to fly for short amounts of time. Astral Projection – Her soul was jiggled a little loose during her near-death experience, so she’s able to tug it out and let it roam. The further distance she travels, the more it drains her, and while she’s able to perceive things on both ends if she wants to, it works better if she focuses on the projection fully and zones out physically. Strife Specibus ►  x2 Haladiekind – They are mainly her foci for magic, but can also be used for physical attacks. Doubled edged, double bladed daggers with a central grip and knuckle dusters on the outside. Pistolkind – Sometimes it’s better to not be flashy and just shoot a bitch. PC Info Trollian Handle ► reawakenedTheurgist Typing Quirk ► Replaces L’s with £, stutters when upset/scared/flustered/ect Example ► Tends t'speak with a regiona£ accent an' c£ips the endin' off certain words. I-I-If sh-sh-she's u-upset o-or s-s-s-scared sh-she s-s-stutters.

 ▼ Personality ▼ Formerly a very open, trusting, and bubbly individual, the past few sweeps haven’t been kind to the mindset that Phobos once held. She comes across very blunt, only dancing around her genuine opinions of people and what she thinks when she’s around someone she perceives to be a threat. Even then, she’s not above pushing her luck in certain situations, as should things turn violent she has a considerable amount of magic she can rely upon to take care of what faces her. Or, well, a decent amount of what faces her. At the end of the night, Phobos is focused on one thing and one thing only: survival. If she has to run to save her skin, she’ll do so, and unless someone has endeared themselves to her (or she is required to act otherwise), she’ll leave them behind in the dust. However when it comes to the fight vs flight ratio, Phobos is absolutely someone that will throw down first. Combat is something that she’s grown from hating to enjoying a lot, as it allows her not only to exercise but vent her emotions in a…”productive” manner.

That’s not to say she doesn’t care about other people, of course. She’s just very reluctant to allow herself to be open with people, especially considering the very recent mutation she’s had to hide. Anxiety over many of her past relationships failing also hasn’t helped at all, as she sees herself as an irresponsible and unhealthy individual to be quadrants with. Friends are a possibility, but Phobos requires a lot of reassurance and proof that someone is not only patient enough but can emotionally handle all the chaos that comes along with her life. If she doesn’t think the relationship will work out and could potentially hurt someone, she’s quick to say so and warn them of that fact. She struggles with not cutting people off out of fear of hurting them, often dropping contact with nothing but her first warning to go off of.

Should you ever gain her friendship, though, she’s incredibly nurturing and caring, as well as unshakably loyal once you’ve earned her faith. While she’s struggled with following it, Phobos is also fairly good at dispensing advice and can dip into more pale or ashen tendencies if she believes someone needs that. Of course this is paired with her regular amounts of cynicism and sarcasm; it’s recommended not to have too-thin skin around Phobos. She’ll compliment just as much as she’ll playfully rag on you, likely swearing up and down the entire Alternian language the whole way. She has a filter for this when she’s around children, as she was a teacher in her former life, but the moment she catches them swearing casually it’s gone. Her “old demeanor” is still very much present despite what she’d like to think or say, it’s just hidden behind a lot of walls, suspicions, and anxiety.

Most of what other people get to see, though, is the witch behind the counter of an occult shop. She really likes to play up the mystical aspect and spooky vibes of her job. Helps convince people to buy stuff and spreads the word to bring in more customers. Whether or not they believe her magic is real doesn’t matter; it sells when you make it flashy enough.

▼ Strengths VS Weaknesses ▼

Strengths ► Perceptive | Driven | Honest

Weaknesses ► Cynical | Stubborn | Flighty

 ▼ Likes ▼

✔ General “witchy” paraphernalia ✔ Relaxing near fireplaces ✔ Loose, comfy scarves ✔ Libraries ✔ Incense (Dragon’s Blood and Cedar are favorites) ✔ Bird watching ✔ Anything with an autumn aesthetic ✔ Handmade clothes ✔ Walks in the woods ✔ Honey candy ✔ Cats

 ▼ Dislikes ▼

✘ Subjugs ✘ Too much noise ✘ Sudden movements ✘ Being touched without warning ✘ “Unnatural” silence ✘ Uppity trolls ✘ Generally most trolls blue and above on principle ✘ Any kind of religious zealots or evangelists ✘ Dealing with her bosses ✘ Cheap liquor ✘ Centipedes, to the degree that she’ll panic and shoot at them

 ▼ Extra ▼

 ► While she’s far better at using her magic in combat than to heal, she’s recently been practicing to try and get better at it. It’s a skill she let atrophy after moving away from home, which she regrets doing now that she has to relearn what she was once really fucking good at.  ► She’s willing to tolerate most people if it benefits her, but highbloods will have a harder time gaining her trust.  ► She has a very hard time sleeping fully through the day, usually due to her psionics allowing her to see and hear ghosts.  ► Her wings are bound most of the time, though the way they’re structured allows her to lay them flat against her back naturally and prevents the binding from damaging them too much.  ► Flying takes a lot out of her. She’s only had her wings for 4 sweeps and they’ve only been fully grown for 2.  ► She’s more in-shape and toned than you’d expect for a lowblood. One of her old teachers was ex-fleet and made her do basic training exercises nightly, which is a routine she tries to keep up.  ► That being said, she has very little love for the fleet and is suspicious of anyone she finds bearing the emblem.  ► Before everything started to fall apart, she planned to dodge the draft with her ex-moirail and just travel through space with her.  ► Now she’s set up an occult shop and sells minor enchantments and crystals to goth kids and hipsters. Also some cursed items and magical advice. Really anything that’ll sell, honestly. She needs the money.  ► There’s always at least some kind of notebook on her. She’s very diligent about recording information that she feels is important. It also gives her a way to voice her thoughts without talking to anyone.  ► She grew up with very little exposure to modern Alternian technology for the most part, which has driven her to learn as much as she can about it. The prospect of technomancy fascinates her, though she’s not able to perform any herself.

▼ Quadrants ▼

 ► Moirail: N/A  ► Matesprit: N/A  ► Kismesis: N/A  ► Auspistice: N/A

▼ Other Relationships ▼

Eeleth Kuvlew [Pure Hope] ► Your ex-matesprit and the source of a never-ending flood of complicated emotions. You hurt him deeper than anyone ever could or has, which haunts you worse than any ghost. Recently, you spoke with him after a sweep of silence, though had your hands not been tied it would’ve been much sooner. Things are still complicated, and you doubt he’ll respond to any of your letters or online messages, but that won’t keep you from writing him about important things. You don’t want to give up talking to him.

Marcel Bradik [Lowered Humanity] ► Your other ex-matesprit, though one of a much shorter time. You don’t blame him for anything that happened; all of that was on you. He taught you a fair few things while you dated, the most important being how to shoot a gun and to carry one on you at all times. The thought has crossed your mind to try and seek him out, but you’ve decided against it due to the fact that he’s a shadowdropper and prone to having a temper. Best to let sleeping dogs lie.

[phandomsecretvalentines]

Tell Me Everything Will Be Alright

This is my fic (and my first phanfic wow) for the 2018 Phandom Secret Valentines, and my valentine is @citrouillephan!

I hope you enjoy!   -from your valentine, @realityfallsapart

tags: fluff, angst, 2009 AU

words: 4.7k

Summary: Dan Howell tends to get lost in his head and his thoughts have a habit of ruling him even when he doesn’t want them to. When he and his best friend finally have a chance at meeting, Dan starts to wonder if he is actually good enough for the amazing human being that is Phil Lester.

(ao3 link)

(Thank you so much to @moonbeamphan for reading this over and helping me! This wouldn’t be as good without you!)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dan typed his answer and sent it by hitting enter before leaning back in his chair and letting out a shaky breath that seemed to rattle his insides. His laptop chirped quietly, announcing that Phil had replied to him. He couldn’t bring himself to look at it right away. Finally, after a few moments, he flicked his eyes down to the white screen of the computer in his lap where Phil’s most recent message seemed to glare up at him.

  Phil :) (9:47 PM)

i know!

i can’t believe it either!

For a few moment, Dan could do nothing but stare at the screen; at the black words disrupting the artificial white light. It was the only thing that gave Dan any sort of illumination in his room; everything else was dark. He bit his lip and thought about the possible pros and cons of shutting his laptop and burying his head under his duvet to pretend that everything was fine because it was. It’s all fine.

Dan shook his head and reached his hands down to the keyboard. He wouldn't—couldn’t—do that to Phil. Phil deserved so much better than that. His numb fingers typed out a small sentence, only realizing that it had several typos until after he had sent it. He mentally kicked himself for it.

  Dan ^-^ (9:51 PM)

Me niether! it seems like thsi would n e v e r happen!

**neither, this

Jeez i can spell

Phil :) (9:51 PM)

idk dan are you sure you can def spell? those seem like some pretty beginner mistakes…

  Dan knew Phil was kidding. He knew that it was just Phil playing around with Dan like they normally did. Like they had been doing for months at this point. But in Dan’s heightened state of anxiety and stress, he couldn’t help but berate himself further. God, Phil must think of him as a kid now, he can’t even spell right!

Dan crashed back into his mattress, groaning and squeezing his eyes shut.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid….” he muttered, hitting his forehead with his hand with every word.

Looking back on this moment, Dan would laugh and realize how utterly idiotic his anger with himself was coming from, but right now, in bed with the lights off and by himself, he couldn’t help but magnify the issue. He had been anxious and stressed without a pause this entire week.

He looked up at his ceiling, sighing in growing frustration towards himself, but it wasn’t just because of his inability to catch his typos. In fact, it had nothing to do with them. The typos had just tipped him right over the edge and all of his insecurities crashed over him like waves, his head nearly going under the tide.

To say he wasn’t good enough was an understatement. To say that Phil deserved a much better best friend than Dan was even more of one. Phil was older, more experienced, more mature, funny, smart, kind, and extremely compassionate. He had a great time making pretty successful and entertaining videos (at least in Dan’s opinion, and he would always fight anyone who said otherwise) on the side, on top of balancing life. Dan was younger, so much more less experienced with everything, he got overwhelmed with life and spent the majority of his time curled up under his covers surfing through the waves of his latest existential crisis or playing PC video games that he would forget about within the next 24 hours. He was purgatory in the form of a human and an incredibly underwhelming one at that.

He wasn’t sure how long exactly he laid there, stewing in his self-deprecation and wishing that he was better. Better in literally every aspect, maybe then he would finally be worth Phil’s time, if only a little bit. His computer chirped again, and then twice more minutes later in rapid succession, as if angry. Dan grasped for the thing, pulling it up to his chest, lacking the energy to sit back up.

  Phil :) (10:07 PM)

Dan you know im joking right?

Phil :) (10:16 PM)

Dan? you still there? i was joking i promise you can make all the typos you want

u didnt fall asleep did you?

  Dan couldn’t help the watery smile that turned the corners of his mouth up, albeit it being a small one. Phil had that effect on him even if Dan was falling apart on the inside. Just a little though, he was fine.

  Dan ^-^ (10:18 PM)

nooo im not sleeping

Phil :) (10:18 PM)

:(

Dan ^-^ (10:19 PM)

why the frowny face

Dan tried to keep the fear out of his thoughts but the talons of doubt had already settled around his heart. Was Phil mad that he didn’t answer right away? Would-

His laptop signaled the arrival of Phil’s reply, and Dan really didn’t know if he wanted to slam the lid of his computer shut or jump at the opportunity to find out if he had just ruined the best friendship he had ever had. Ever will. He went for the latter.

(Dan supposed he might be overreacting, but then again, when wasn’t he, it seemed?)

  Phil :) (10:20 PM)

did i insult your typing skills one too many times? is that why you disapeared?

*disappeared

Dan used the best coping mechanisms for dealing with his anxiety that he knew: humor and avoidance. Together, they were a formidable force and Dan had spent a large majority of his time perfecting their potency.

  Dan ^-^ (10:20 PM)

now look who’s making the typos

Phil :) (10:20 PM)

Dan.

  He gulped. Now he had done it. Fuck. He had to fix this.

Dan ignored the roar behind his ears that seemed to be screaming that he should just ignore this all, pray that things would magically fix themselves and change the topic. That was his fear talking. His self-abandonment. His anxiety. His everything. Phil was worth so much more. So Dan pushed it all away for just long enough to reply.

  Dan ^-^ (10:21 PM)

sorry, joke

no, thats not why i ran away

i was just thinking, thats all

Phil :) (10:21 PM)

were you doing it again

  Dan tried to pretend that he didn’t know what Phil was talking about and simultaneously cursed himself for telling Phil about his increasing habit for getting lost in his thoughts. He failed. He knew exactly what Phil was talking about.

Back, about three weeks ago in a later-than-normal conversation where all of their inhibitions seemed to dissipate, Dan had finally come clean about how sometimes thoughts got the best of him. He would crumble under them, get so completely and utterly lost in his head that he would sometimes stay there for hours on end, picking apart anything that his conscience decided to dig up. And it hindered Dan, made him hate himself just that much more, made him hate how easily his anxieties held him hostage, stuck. But he couldn’t do much about it, it seemed, for whenever he got lost in his head, he always forgot that he had to get out.

Dan gulped. He had to lie his way out of this. He knew that Phil didn’t like it when Dan got stuck. He could pull off nonchalance, right?

  Dan ^-^ (10:22 PM)

no

Phil :) (10:22 PM)

im not convinced

you were werent you

Dan ^-^ (10:23 PM)

does my word not count for anything lol

Phil :) (10:24 PM)

maybe if we were talking and i could see your face it’d count

Dan ^-^ (10:24 PM)

what’s my face got to do with anything?

Phil’s bubble appeared on the screen once, twice, three times, before he apparently decided on what he was going to say and sent it. The entire time Dan was a few words away from having a breakdown. His hands were shaking. His mind was racing faster than normal. Faster than it had in what seemed like a very long time.

  Phil :) (10:26 PM)

bc then i could tell if you were lying

tho rn i dont even need that

Dan ^-^ (10:26 PM)

are u seriously saying im lying

Phil :) (10:27 PM)

yeah

you did everything that you always do when you arent telling the truth

you joked

changed / focused the conversation onto smth else

and besides

ive gathered that you really dont like to talk about the things that bother you. you like to ignore them and stuff

Dan ^-^ (10:28 PM)

so how bout we not talk about them then

Phil :) (10:29 PM)

normally, maybe

but not with this

Dan ^-^ (10:29 PM)

and why not?

Phil :) (10:29 PM)

bc i dont like it when you beat yourself up in your head

Dan ^-^ (10:30 PM)

who said i was beating myself up in my head

Phil :) (10:30 PM)

… dan :/

youre avoiding again

Dan cursed himself. God, since when could Phil read him like a book?

  Dan ^-^ (10:32 PM)

fine. maybe i am

what are you gonna do about it philly?

Phil :) (10:32 PM)

daaaaannnnnn

you arent allowed to beat yourself up

no ones allowed to

especially you!

  Dan giggled, just a little. He couldn’t help it when Phil was being…well, Phil.

  Dan ^-^ (10:33 PM)

and why not? Hmm?

Phil :) (10:34 PM)

bc youre my favorite person silly

my favorite person cant be sad. its just the rules

Dan ^-^ (10:35 PM)

oh yeah? whose rules then, oh wise philip

Phil :) (10:35 PM)

ew dont call me philip my nan calls me that

and theyre my rules

my rules for my favorite person

Dan ^-^ (10:35 PM)

suuurrreee phil. sure its a rule

*philip

Phil’s cursor didn’t appear seconds after Dan had sent his message like usual. Insead, nothing appeared. Their good-natured banter had eased the storm raging inside of Dan and his thoughts and anxieties had died down a little, much more easier to bear with the distraction Phil was giving him, but with the sudden disappearance of his best friend, they came back full force. All of his doubts spilled into the front of his conscience. He shivered. It wasn’t from the cold.

Dan watched the little digital clock at the bottom of his laptop screen count the minutes falling away. One, two, three, four, five, god did what did he do-

  Phil :) (10:41 PM)

[multimedia image: click to load]

With his heart in his throat, Dan clicked, and a small window appeared, momentarily covering their chat from Dan’s view. It was hard to make out, the quality bad and the image itself grainy and dark, but it was of a piece of paper lying atop two legs clad in bright pyjamas that Dan could immediately connect to Phil and his eccentric personality. He could make out the tip of Phil’s finger at the top of the shot, too. Squinting, he looked at the paper itself, zooming in to make out the words penned in Phil’s handwriting.

  Rules:

1. Dan Howell is my favorite person

2. No one is allowed to make fun of him

3. ESPECIALLY if that “no one” is Dan himself

Dan started to laugh. Only Phil would actually make a list of “rules”. Only Phil.

Before Dan could reply, Phil was typing again.

  Phil :) (10:43 PM)

there. proper rules written on proper paper. you have to follow them now

Dan ^-^ (10:44 PM)

i cant believe that you actually wrote rules you spork

but fine! i guess if i have to lol

Dan was still working heavily with avoiding the whole situation entirely, just like with what he was doing to the problem causing him so much stress to begin with, but he couldn’t help it. It’s just how he was.

  Phil :) (10:46 PM)

so you admit to your crimes xD

but anyways

you were stuck in your head again

which is okay, i mean, i understand that it’s something you cant help

Dan felt like he was going to cry. Phil’s assurance that Dan’s mind running in panicked circles was perfectly okay was almost too much. Phil’s compassion was almost too much.

But it appeared that Phil wasn’t done, because his laptop dinged quietly again.

  Phil :) (10:47 PM)

can i ask whats got you so sad and worried

so i can beat it up

obvs

  Now Dan really wanted to cry. How could he tell Phil that the reason was him? How could he say that the root of this ball of anxiety and stress and worrying that had taken over him was Phil himself?

He couldn’t do that to Phil, not when his best friend would undoubtedly take it hard. God, if Phil knew why Dan kept getting lost in himself, he would be crushed.

  Dan ^-^ (10:51 PM)

noooo

Phil :) (10:51 PM)

are you sure? i wont judge you dan, i swear it doesnt matter if you think i wont like it

i just wanna be here for you

If Dan wasn’t crying earlier, he was now, a few select tears dripping down his cheeks, brimming with the emotions that had been taking over him this past week. Phil was…too much. He was too kind, too sweet, too undeserving of someone like Dan. God, Phil deserved the whole world, he shouldn’t have to settle with Dan.

Another message appeared on Dan’s screen, as but this one didn’t seem like normal, it was a little off, a little rushed, a little…something. Dan couldn’t place it.

  Phil :) (10:53 PM)

bc youre my best friend.

obvs. xD

If Dan wasn’t so out of it and was able to think clearly, he might have questioned Phil’s “clarification” of why and what sense he wanted to be there for him, but Dan was not in the best state of mind and he thought nothing of it.

Dan looked at his screen again. He still had to acknowledge Phil’s question, and he wasn’t sure how to go about it. He wanted to tell Phil he already told him everything, have Phil reassure him and tell him that everything was going to be okay again, like he normally did. But Dan couldn’t. He couldn’t lie again, once was already once too many, and something told Dan that if he tried to ignore it or change the topic, Phil would just call him out again.

Fuck.

  Dan ^-^ (10:56 PM)

it doesnt matter

Phil :) (10:56 PM)

yes it does

its enough to make you get lost in that head of yours, so it matters

Dan ^-^ (10:57 PM)

phil we both know it doesnt take much for me to get lost in my thoughts

Phil :) (10:58 PM)

still

something is bothering you and i want to fix it

Dan bit his lip. God, Phil had no idea how badly he wanted to let him fix this. He couldn’t though. He just couldn’t.

  Dan ^-^ (10:58 PM)

nooo phil, you cant fix this one

Phil :) (10:58 PM)

>:(

you cant even let me try?

  Always, always, but just not with this. Dan couldn’t tell Phil this, not when it would hurt him.

  Dan ^-^ (11:00 PM)

no phil, not with this sorry :(

Phil :) (11:01 PM)

:((((

okay

i may not like it but i can respect that

will you tell me tomorrow?

Dan looked at the screen, thinking about it. Tomorrow was what he was worried about to begin with. Could he tell Phil tomorrow? He wasn’t sure. Well, it didn’t matter if things went good or not, Dan mused, tomorrow Dan’s fears would either be affirmed or destroyed.

He could only hope.

  Dan ^-^ (11:03 PM)

sure

tomorrow

Phil :) (11:03 PM)

yay!!!

  Dan laughed, breathily.

  Phil :) (11:03 PM)

oooh! look at the time!

its getting so late bear wow

guess we should get to sleep so we dont fall asleep on each other tomorrow huh? xD

  Dan’s heart physically melted at the use of Phil’s pet name for him. He only used it occasionally, but it never failed to make Dan’s heart stutter in his chest and the butterflies in his belly to flit around faster, making him feel almost giddy. Hopeful.

God he sounded so stupid right now. Anxious and stressed out of his mind yet still acting like a little kid with their first crush.

Stupid feelings.

  Dan ^-^ (11:05 PM)

yeah i guess we should!

night philly :)

Phil :) (11:05 PM)

goodnight dan!! :D

see you tomorrow!

(ps, idk whats bothering you and thats okay but i hope whatever it is it works out for you :“)  )

Ah yes. That’s what it boiled down to. Tomorrow morning Dan would board a train and take it up to Manchester to spend some time with Phil. The first time that they would see each other in real life, not just behind a computer screen. They had skyped before and texted and chatted for countless hours over countless days, but the thought of tomorrow still made Dan want to throw up.

He wasn’t good enough for Phil. He was just so terrified that tomorrow Phil would see that.

  Dan ^-^ (11:06 PM)

:)

  After hitting send Dan thrust the lid to his laptop down and pushed it off of his chest, letting it fall onto the bed. Dan felt sick again. He was so scared about tomorrow because there were so many things that could go wrong and so many flaws that Phil could discover about Dan and so many, so many, ways for what is supposed to be the best day of Dan’s life to turn out to be his worst.

God, he hated his anxiety for always picking things apart. Always fucking with Dan’s own head.

Dan rolled over and grabbed his duvet, pulling it up and wishing that it would just swallow him whole. Fuck. He couldn’t do it tomorrow. He couldn’t handle this stress.

Taking a deep breath, Dan clutched his duvet tighter in his grasp and tried to keep his lip from wobbling.

Right now he just wanted to sleep. He wanted to forget that he didn’t feel good enough, that yet again his insecurities were screwing him over, that he wanted to cry. He wanted to forget. Unfortunately for Dan the universe didn’t agree and he ended up staying awake for hours after the he had closed his laptop, the entire time doing nothing but thinking, getting lost in his head, and wishing that his thoughts would just turn off.

For once.

Please.

~~~~~~

Dan slung his bag over his shoulder. His fingers felt numb. Unlike his greatest hopes, the fitful-at-best night’s sleep did nothing to alleviate Dan’s terror. If anything, it had only magnified it because now it was today and Dan couldn’t run anymore.

He took a cab to the station, and he ended up being earlier than he needed to be, having about an extra ten minutes to wait for his train. He sat on a bench, his legs nothing but jelly at this point, his fears making it quite easy to foresee his long legs from just giving out on him. Dan didn’t want to make an embarrassment of himself on top of it all, so he tried to calm his racing heart while he sat.

With no luck.

Of course.

Dan looked down at the ticket in his hand. It would be so easy to not go. To walk right out of the station, spend the weekend at home instead of with Phil, and not risk Phil seeing how utterly underwhelming Dan was as a person. He could lie, could say that he ran late, missed his train, maybe his parents changed their minds and didn’t let Dan go.

But God, as Dan looked down at the paper in his trembling hand, he couldn’t help but know that he wouldn’t be able to actually go through with not leaving. He wouldn’t be able to lie to Phil, not about something this big—who was he kidding, he had a hard enough time lying to Phil last night over something so small!

But more than that, Dan knew that it was much more than not being able to lie to Phil. He had wanted to meet Phil ever since he had started to watch his videos, and the sentiment had only increased tenfold with their fast friendship. Phil was now much more than a hero, much more than a few minutes of distraction. He was Phil, Dan’s AmazingPhil, and he was his best friend. That lanky black-haired boy was worth so so much in Dan’s eyes, and he couldn’t, couldn’t, leave him in the dust like that. God it wouldn’t just kill Phil, but it would kill Dan too. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

Dan had been thinking too hard. Before he knew it the train was pulling into the station and Dan gulped, raising on still-shaky legs and gripping the strap of his bag so hard he didn’t even have to look to know that his knuckles were blotched white.

As Dan took his seat, a new resolve washed over him. He would go. He would endure this train ride that undoubtedly would be the most anxiety-inducing thing he had done in a very long time—possibly ever—and he would do it for Phil. If Phil would reject him or not, he would try not to dwell on it on the coming trip (a losing battle, Dan knew), but he would still go.

For Phil.

~~~~~

Dan’s heart was going so fast he was sure that he was going to pass out. His hands, his arms, legs, his whole body was trembling.

Manchester’s Piccadilly Station.

Dan was here.

There was a decent amount of people on the station as far as Dan could see as the train pulled in, but none of them looked like his best friend.

The train came to a stop and Dan stood, the first to make it to the doors and there when they opened.

Strangely enough, when the doors pulled open and Dan took a step out into the station, he stopped trembling. His heart slowed—not by much, but it slowed—and this whole thing didn’t seem quite as scary. Sure, Dan’s thoughts were still screaming in his head, sure, his anxiety was still off the charts, and sure, his hands were still sweaty and his breath was still shallow but still. It was as if a calm had washed over him.

Dan wasn’t sure what to make of it. Maybe he was just going into shock.

People busied around him, walking this way and that, talking into cell phones, to other people, some silent. Dan, unsure of everything right now, followed where the general push of people were guiding him, the whole time craning his head, looking for his Phil. He tried not to panic. He tried.

But with every second the calm that had overtook him was shrinking and his anxiety steadily increased.

Did Phil forget? Did he stand me up? Oh God he’s not coming he didn’t come-

"Dan!”

Dan whirled around at the sound of his name, uttered by a voice that sounded so much better when it wasn’t distorted by their shitty computer’s speakers.

Before Dan could register really anything, he was being engulfed in a hug, two strong arms wrapping themselves around Dan’s shoulders, pulling him flush against the figure.

Against Phil.

And instantly all of the shouting in Dan’s head was gone. The slight tremble in his hands vanished, and for the first time in a week, his anxiety was gone without a trace. Dan felt like crying.

Dan gasped in surprise, his brain taking a moment to reboot because Phil didn’t forget, didn’t stand him up, didn’t change his mind, and suddenly Dan felt very, very stupid because how could he ever think that Phil would do something like that. This was Phil, the kindest person on the planet.

Phil pulled away, just a little, just enough so they could see each other’s faces, and Dan had to keep himself from pulling Phil back in.

His smile was so wide, easily the widest Dan had ever seen it. And his eyes, oh God those eyes were a thousand times clearer, a thousand times more mesmerizing than behind a screen. Dan didn’t doubt for a second that he could stand here and look into them for the rest of the day without tiring of their never-ending beauty. Fuck. Why did his eyes have to be so gorgeous.

Dan tore his eyes away from Phil’s and looked over the rest of him, from his broad shoulders that Dan wanted to wrap his arms around, to the tussle of his hair that Dan craved to run his fingers through and the line of his jaw that Dan felt the need to trace. Double fuck. Why did the entirety of Phil have to be gorgeous.

“Dan! I can’t believe you’re here! I have today all planned out; I’m going to show you everything!” Phil said excitedly, a twinkle as clear as day in his eyes. Phil was practically vibrating with excitement and it made a smile spread over Dan’s features. Phil’s happiness was contagious.

Phil stopped his rambling, looking down at Dan sheepishly.

“I mean, if that’s all okay with you. If you don’t want to do something that’s okay, I totally get it. We can do anything you want, I-”

Dan tilted his head back and laughed, laughed because Phil seemed nervous. Phil was nervous and it was adorable.

“Yeah, yeah Phil it’s all fine. All of it, don’t worry. I just can’t believe you want to do it all with me.”

Phil’s smile faded a little, and the twinkle in his eye got that much smaller. He looked a little sad.

“Was this what you were so worried about? That I wouldn’t like you?”

Dan bit his lip and looked down, giving a little nod.

Phil pulled Dan right back into a hug, but this time it felt even more real, and it was impossibly tighter. It felt like Phil was pulling all of Dan’s lost pieces together. Phil’s voice was in his ear.

“Of course I like you, Dan. You’re my best friend. I like you more than anyone else. Promise.”

Dan might have just felt like crying, in that moment. Phil accepted him. He wasn’t going to leave him. Things were okay. They were okay.

He knew that this would hit him later, maybe tonight when he had a chance to process things. He’d probably cry out of relief, but it would all be okay because Phil would be there to hold him together and ease all of Dan’s worries.

Soon enough they set off, hand in hand, and Dan was smiling so wide, so, so wide. He couldn’t have been happier with how things had turned out.

Dan looked sideways at Phil, trying to not be too obvious.

This had worked out so maybe, just maybe, something else could work out for him.

~~~~~

Dan stood at the window, a cup of coffee in his hand. It was early, and he could see the technicolor dream across the sky that was that morning’s sunrise. The steam from his coffee rose from the rim of the cup and slowly diffused into nothing; tendril-like hands wisped up and around Dan’s neck.

It had been nearly nine years.

Dan’s nervousness and dark thoughts never ceased to plague him, however, he learned to deal with it better. He could confidently say that he has never been happier.

It had been nearly nine years, and they were still inseparable. Their channels had grown exponentially, and they boasted an insanely large fan community.

As the years had gone by, their strong, unbreakable friendship slowly blossomed into something remarkably beautiful. Their long Skype calls turned into late night kisses, and they had been happily in love for nearly nine years.

Dan twisted the ring on his third finger. As well as being happily in love, they were also engaged to be married within the next year. Lately, he’d been waking up in complete disbelief.

The thing Dan had wanted so desperately to work out for him did, and in the most perfectly perfect way possible.

[mtt-metal-crusher]

But I’m hot!

Mettaton and Alphys friendship:

1670 words. Request for anonymous.

“I honestly don’t know what you see in her, Alphys,”

“Wh-who? Undyne?”

“She’s utterly terrifying,”

Mettaton and Alphys sat on opposite ends of the sofa as Mettaton flicked through the television channels idly, watching the screen with a bored expression. The choice of television content was immense in the human world, and yet there never seemed to be anything worth watching.

“She’s not scary w-when you get to know her!” She countered, “She’s actually quite sweet and gentle,”

“Hmmph!”

“W-what was that noise for?”

“That was my noise of pure disbelief, darling,” He said, sprawling out on the sofa to get himself more comfortable, taking up half the space along with it.

Alphys crossed her arms, “D-don’t make noises of disbelief about my girlfriend! S-she’s a nice person,”

“I’ll make whatever noises I like, sweetheart,” He informed her, stretching out further and laying his legs on Alphys’ lap. There, now he was comfortable. “She once threatened to ‘noogie me so hard my head caved in’,”

“That’s just her way o-of... bonding!”

Mettaton smirked, “Oh really?”

“It is!

He looked over to her, placing the television remote down. He’d never find anything of interest to watch at this rate anyway. “Say, honey, it’s cute to see you so defensive about her. You really have fallen for that angry fish woman, haven’t you?” He pressed, nudging her teasingly with his foot.

A small, hesitant smile grew on her lips, “Y-yeah, I like her a lot,”

He sighed, “Okay, well I guess I can’t change your mind about her,”

“You c-certainly can’t!”

“Even though she terrifies me,”

“Nope!”

They looked at each other with subtle smiles, knowing that they were both as stubborn as each other.

Once a silence began to grow over the conversation, and the hunt for something to watch on the television came to an end, Mettaton finally turned it off all together.

“How about we play a game?”

“L-like what? I have plenty of games on my PC-”

“No no! I mean, like... Truth or Dare?”

Alphys gulped. That game always promised a lot of panic and terror for her. Alphys wasn’t the best person to be playing a game about truth, but then again, neither was Mettaton. Maybe they’d just have to take dares all night.

“O-okay then, you start,”

“Hold on, I have to get the wine first,”

“What for?”

“You expect me to play a game about admitting the truth without getting drunk beforehand? That’s preposterous,”

Alphys laughed, “You h-have a point!”

“Truth,” Mettaton said, tempting with fate. The only solace he had with playing this game was that, if Alphys started asking intrusive questions, he could always fire them straight back at her.

“How long are you g-going to let that Burgerpants guy think that you hate him?” She asked, “Because he r-really hates working for you- he tells everyone who walks in! He even t-told me- and he knows I made you! I-I think he holds me responsible,”

Mettaton rolled his eyes, “I’m going to stop treating him like crap when he starts acting like a good employee. See- he’s lucky I don’t fire him for talking trash about me behind my back. I was even kind enough to hire him again when we got to the surface,”

Alphys took another giddy sip of her wine, letting the fruity taste roll around on her tongue, “Y-you make a good argument,”

He also took a sip, or rather, gulp of his wine himself, almost downing half the glass, “That guy really does push me to the limit,”

“I-I see!” Alphys looked at him, a little worriedly. Maybe she should replace the wine with something non-alcoholic in a while, “Okay, my turn. I choose... truth?” She said uncertainly.

“Okay! Truth time,” Mettaton said, straightening up to think of a good question, “Have you, or have you not ever...” He gave her a mischievous look, “Had a crush on me?”

“O-oh my God!”

Mettaton smirked “I knew it,”

“W-wait n-no!” Alphys said, giggling infectiously, “No Mettaton. I’ve actually n-never felt like that about you,”

He looked at her like she’d just shot him, like she’d just said something to betray his whole trust and everything he stood for, “Never?”

“Nope! You’ve always j-just been my friend, 

“But I’m so hot,” He said, as though he was trying to convince her to crush on him.

She had to cover her mouth to stop all of the giggles from escaping, “Y-yes but I was the one who m-made you hot. I got fed u-up of seeing your stupid hot face every time I had to work on it,”

“Now this is just bullying,” Mettaton huffed, trying his hardest to suppress a laugh. “You’ve seen me... in the nude,”

Alphys snorted and covered her face, the laughter becoming too much, “I have! B-but I’d rather see Undyne in ‘the nude’,”

Mettaton finally caved, laughter pouring out of him. The idea that anyone would rather see Undyne naked than him was hilarious to him. He couldn’t quite believe it.

When the laughter eventually petered off, Mettaton shook his head, “Okay, my turn again. I choose dare,”

Alphys held her chin in thought, “I dare you to... call Undyne and tell her y-you love her!!”

He gasped, pouring another glass of wine quickly, not caring much when some of it sloshed over the side, and then poured the whole glass-full down his throat. He slammed the glass back down on the table and pulled out his phone.

Alphys had to hold her hands over her mouth again as Mettaton dialled the number, knowing that Undyne would be able to hear her giggling otherwise.

“Hello, beautiful,” Mettaton breathed when Undyne picked up, his tone full of wanton lust.

“Mettaton? That you?” She replied, her voice only showing confusion.

“Oh, you know who it is, darling,” He said, winking and biting his lip, far too drunk to realise she couldn’t see him.

“Well... what’s up?” She asked, his tone alarming her immensely.

“I was just calling to... admit s-something rather personal to you,” He said, slurring his words slightly but still holding onto his sultry voice, “You see, I’m just dreadfully in love with you and want nothing more than to... than to father your children!”

There was silence on the other end of the phone and both Mettaton and Alphys looked at each other, holding their breath to keep in their laughter, “Darling? Are you there?”

At long last, Undyne was heard again, this time, howling with laughter, “I can’t believe you just- oh my God! As if I’d-” More laughter, and then Mettaton and Alphys joined in, unable to help themselves. Undyne could be heard saying something quietly to someone else, and then laughing harder “Hey, Papyrus says he’ll father your children- so you can have that,”

“METTATON, DON’T LISTEN TO HER- I SAID NO SUCH THING,” A loud voice yelled through the phone, supposedly belonging to ‘Papyrus’.

Undyne spoke again, quieter this time, “He totally would if you asked him, though,”

“UNDYNE I CAN HEAR YOU TALKING ABOUT ME,”

“Well I gotta go- catch you later metalbutt,” And with that, she hung up, leaving Alphys and Mettaton with tears of laughter streaming down their faces.

“I really thought she was taking it seriously for a moment there,” Mettaton said in between laughs.

“Me too! I thought she was going to get all angry,” Alphys said, wiping the tears away.

“I thought she was going to agree,”

“WHAT?!”

Mettaton threw his head back and kicked his legs with laughter.

“She’s a lesbian, Mettaton,”

“I don’t know how strong my charms are-”

“Not that strong, Mettaton,” She patted him on the arm, knowing he was taking the fact that not everybody fell hopelessly at his feet hard, “O-okay- my turn. I’ll choose dare this time,”

“Alrighty, I dare you to let me give you a makeover,”

Alphys eyed him, wondering where the catch was with this dare. It seemed too simple. But when Mettaton started pulling out a black wig and makeup- she knew exactly what he was up to.

“You made m-me look like you!” She said when he was finished, looking into the mirror, “D-do I look hot now?”

Mettaton shushed her by placing a finger clumsily upon her lips, “You are always hot Alphys- now you’re just hot in the same way as me,”

“Y-you think I’m always hot?”

Mettaton nodded, “Everyone has the ability to be hot- it’s all in the personality,” He chuckled, “How do you think I got everyone in the underground to fall in love with a box?”

She giggled, “Th-that makes sense,” But then her brow furrowed, “But... I don’t have a hot personality,”

“Of course you do... you know smart things. That’s hot to a lot of people- look you have a girlfriend so she must think so,”

She gasped, as though the mystery of how she managed to get herself a girlfriend was finally revealed.

Mettaton nodded slowly, grabbing onto her shoulders, “You’re hot Alphys! Say it with me, ‘I am hot!’,”

Alphys felt like she was about to faint. Or throw up. She wasn’t sure.

“I am h-hot!”

“Say ‘I am cute!’”

“I am cute!”

“Say ‘I would happily let Mettaton father my children!’,”

“I would ha- Wait! I’m not saying that.” She laughed, “Mettaton, you have to let this go,”

He looked like he was about to sob, “But I’m so irresistible, why won’t any of you be infatuated with me?”

“Because that would be weird! Mettaton, I’m your best friend. Not everyone has to think you’re sexy,”

“You don’t think I’m sexy?!”

“M-Mettaton no- I-”

“This changes everything,”

They carried on like this for the rest of the night, daring each other to do increasingly stupid things and arguing about Mettaton’s attractiveness. In the morning, all they had left of the day was three empty wine bottles, fuzzy headaches and a photo Alphys had sent to Undyne dressed as Mettaton with the caption ‘don’t you want to father my children?’.

[procyonvulpecula]

Election reaction - tl;dr, it’s mostly very good news!

Let’s get this one out of the way first - the Tories won the most seats and May is (for now) still Prime Minister. But I don’t think most people were realistically expecting anything otherwise. What absolutely stunned me was how small the Tory plurality turned out to be. We went from a surefire Tory landslide with a 100+ strong majority to a hung parliament with the Tories unable to govern by themselves.

The Tories don’t have a majority! They either can’t form a government on their own or can form a weak government who can’t rely on Parliament to pass legislation for them. That makes us powerful! We can write to our MPs and put pressure on them to curb the Tory government’s excesses. Some of May’s more controversial ideas like scrapping human rights legislation, bringing back fox hunting and arms deals to terrorism-supporting Saudi Arabia will probably never make it through, now. 

Labour came to within touching distance of the Tories in the polls - 40% to the Tories’ 42%. After narrowing a 24% point lead, that’s remarkable. Labour made gains all over the country, especially in Wales and England. Corbyn did far better than Miliband did two years ago!

May no longer looks “strong and stable,” but weak and wobbly. She has no intention of resigning, but her gamble has failed and her party are now divided. Corbyn, on the other hand, has gone from a figure of ridicule to a respected leader. His own party hated him and felt he made them unelectable, but seeing how well Labour performed even senior anti-Corbyn figures like Chuka Ummuna rallied around him. For the first time since Corbyn’s election, Labour are united around their leader, and the Tories are divided for and against theirs. Expect a massive Labour surge in opinion polls soon! And if no coalition or minority deal can be done and a second election has to be called, you can expect a Labour government.

Nick Clegg lost his seat. That’s what you get for breaking key promises!

We will probably never hear from UKIP again. They’ve served their purpose, we’re leaving the EU, and their vote has been decimated. Their rise really was meteoric - like a meteor, they glowed brightly for a brief moment before burning up in the atmosphere and turning to dust.

Corbyn promised in his victory speech for his constituency that whoever forms the next government, he will try to push through as much of Labour’s manifesto as he can. With an increased Labour presence in parliament together with other progressive voices from the SNP, Lib Dems, Green and PC, we can expect at least a handful of Labour’s more popular policies to become law.

Scotland can suck a fat one. To be fair a lot of that’s Labour’s fault. The most disappointing thing Labour did this election was write off Scotland as SNP territory and allow the Tories to monopolise the unionist vote there. I never thought I’d see the day that Scotland saved the Tory party and kept them (somewhat) in power after a Labour surge in England!

After the 2015 election I was convinced that the UK electorate was so right-wing we’d never get a genuinely left-wing government and Labour would have to go Blairite Tory-lite again to have a chance at power. Now I feel humbled and ashamed for writing off my country like that. I genuinely believe a truly left-wing Labour government is coming in 2023 now!

I guess a left-wing coalition is possible if the Tories can’t form a government? I’m not holding out much hope for it, but hey, it’s not impossible Corbyn will be PM next week.

It’s also likely there’ll be a vote of no confidence in May and a Conservative leadership contest soon. That’ll make the party look weak and divided, but it also means they could either let a disgraced and weak May hobble on as a now unpopular leader (and she was doing so well before calling the election!) or replace her with someone else. May is on the authoritarian right of the Tories and a more moderate Cameron-esque leader would be far more preferable. Boris, perhaps? Then we get a combination of a more libertarian (though economically more right-wing) PM and a total laughing stock who’s guaranteed to lose the next election.

We almost certainly aren’t leaving the single market. May made this election a referendum on her hard Brexit agenda; the voters rejected that. Politicians and the media have woken up to the fact that we voted by a small margin to “leave the EU,” not by an overwhelming margin to withdraw from all European insitutions. Even Russia is involved in some of them, for crying out loud.

Mr. Fish Finger for PM 2023!

[swipestream]

RPGS, Veblen, and Isms

Back when I was working on my masters, I had to take some PhD classes in econometrics. To do that I had to go to the economics department, fill out paperwork and ask them to let me into the classes (Since I wasn’t a PhD student, the department was rightly worried I might find the classes highly challenging. I did eek out a passing grade though.) While waiting to be seen, one of the professors walking by struck up a conversation with me. After about 5 minutes, he said to me (I paraphrase): “I like you. You should read Veblen’s Theory of the Leisure Class. You’re just the right type of weird to enjoy it.” Turns out he was the professor I was going to have daily 6 hour long classes with that summer. He was pretty weird himself, but in a good way.

Wanting to be more into economics than I really was, and wanting to impress the professor, I picked up a copy of the book. (by the way, it’s public domain and you can find it for free online if you care to read it. PDF EPUB and other formats). Published in 1899, it’s a bit of a slog full of unfamiliar words and archaic structure, but that professor was right, I was just the type of weird to enjoy it. Oddly enough, for an economic treatise written seventy years before the creation of role playing games, it provides an interesting lens to view them through and insights into the nature of them.

(Veblen can also be used to explain a lot of human behavior both on the personal and macro scale. As this is not a political site, I leave you to draw your own conclusions on that front. I’m 100% certain that you can find multiple sites on the topic elsewhere on the internet if you want to read up on it.)

Veblen’s main thesis is that despite the complaints of the economists of his day, and non-economists still today, human behavior is more or less rational despite appearances to the contrary. Of course, keep in mind that humans are notoriously bad at evaluating small short term vs larger long term gains, and are often self benefit driven, both a legacy from when life was nasty, brutish, and short.  To explain seeming lapses in rationality, Veblen explains the concept of agency and status and posits that all so called irrational behavior are attempts to gather one or the other:

Agency: Veblen’s concept of agency is related to but distinct from the commonly discussed gaming concept of player agency. It consists of two parts- the ability to take powerful actions which hold the appearance of consciousness (appearance of consciousness means things like powerful storms have agency even though we now know they’re not conscious) and the ability to impose your will on others with agency. Thus the farmer does not have agency, or has very little, because he imposes his will on plants, which do not have agency; but the hunter, shaman, and warrior do because they impose their will on beasts, storms, and other warriors. Note that how one imposes this will is irrelevant. The warrior who imposes his will through brute violence and the rogue who imposes his will through clever action both have equal agency. In your typical game, there is a ladder of agency. PCs, foes and important NPCs have agency, players and GM influence them with their agency, and above all of that, playing the part of the capricious whimsical gods are the dice which, much like the storms of our ancestors, seem to have a will all their own.

Status: Status is the acknowledgement, deference, and special treatment we give to those with greater agency. In early or brutal civilizations it’s not mouthing off to the warriors because if you do they might just run you through. In more abstract examples, it’s not mouthing off to the king because even though you’re pretty sure you could take him in a fight, his soldiers will run you through and his bureaucrats will see to it that your taxes are doubled.

Veblen explains that the primary way of gathering agency is the heroic exploit, and that the primary currency used is courage and cunning. Enter the typical archetype of the warrior, hunter, and trickster. But over time he argues it becomes more difficult to show off just how heroic you are. Trophies and treasure gained in exploit can only take you so far. Enter two more ways to show how much agency you have: conspicuous consumption and conspicuous leisure. Eventually heroes have so much accumulated riches from exploit that they can afford to blow those resources on ever more extravagant goods and services and on long periods doing nothing of value. Remember back to the carousing rules from the early Conan RPG and the early DnD rules for building your own keep, crafting magic items and doing spell research. All these things signal to the rest of the world just how formidable you are. Different RPG archetypes focus on different mixes of these four building blocks of agency and status.

Courage: imposing agency via force of arms and brute strength

Cunning: imposing agency via cleverness or guile

Conspicuous Consumption: showing status via display of resources gathered in heroic exploit

Conspicuous Leisure: showing status via not performing otherwise productive work when not involved in exploit

Veblen says that the expression of these qualities has social value in that you get special treatment for having or displaying them. They are largely expressed in the form of what Veblen terms invidious comparison. I am stronger than that person, I am smarter than this other person, more moral than this person, etc. More abstractly, they can be expressed through trophies of exploits, what resources you have, what groups you associate with, who you work for etc. In the extreme, one who successfully gathers large amounts of resources via exploit can’t spend it all themselves, and may even hire retainers whose only job is to spend their lord’s money.  Interestingly, some of these expressions are cultural and change over time. Recent studies have shown that modern Americans are less inclined to give others status for having lots of leisure time and lots of expensive possessions, which were major status symbols in Veblen’s time and are still (apparently) status symbols in other places. (article 1 and article 2).

What in particular struck me while reading through the book was that a large part of RPGs was an attempt to emulate characters with far more agency, and thus status, than players generally have. That’s of course an oversimplification. Different people play RPGs for lots of different reasons, and you can probably find some that don’t hinge on playing with agency, but I can’t think of any . Feel free to correct me if you like. What this means is that in theory RPG experiences featuring the right balance of character agency (enough agency to impose their will on others but not so much that opponents don’t appear to have agency of their own) should be a more satisfying play experience, and giving the characters markers of agency and status should also lead to satisfying play. In fact, one could write an entire book digging through Theory Of The Leisure Class and pulling out elements to enhance games*.

As a side note, plenty of playstyles and even problem playstyles can be chalked up to Veblen’s agency. On the innocuous side is pushing for more PC vs NPC agency. On the destructive side is outright player vs player or player vs GM agency. If you’ve ever wondered what the player who enjoys making everyone else’s experience miserable is getting out of it, this is it: imposing their agency over that of the other players and GM, and if they can’t be convinced to pick a more suitable target, they should be shown the door before it gets worse.

However, even though Veblen explains RPG motivations very well it turns out that taken to extremes, pursuing agency and status also explains a variety of the more unsavory elements of humanity: Slavery, discrimination, sexism, racism etc. are all big markers for agency and status. Some of them, like slavery, are a direct application of agency. One person has the agency to literally own another. Isms are a little more abstract but boil down to an imbalance of status between two groups. If you belong to the group an imbalance favors, you benefit from that status boost. You can see the evidence of this in plenty of the fiction that inspired the RPG hobby. Conan, for example has a scene in at least every other story where he forces himself on a woman and halfway through the act, she stops struggling to get him off her and starts struggling to get her panties off, because he’s just so manly and good at kissing it changes her mind, and Robert E Howard doesn’t even hold a candle to John Norman in that regard. A lot of early space opera sci-fi was heroic American vs evil communist Asians . . . innnn spaaaaace! There are still plenty of vestiges of this era sticking around too. All dwarves are racist against elves, elves are racist against . . . mostly dwarves, but also everyone. Lots of sentient species are kill on sight morally repugnant, and every half-orc gets the one good half orc treatment.

So, TLDR: RPGs are big power fantasies about imposing your will on others and everyone fawning all over you for doing it, and taken too far the natural extension of this is some of the worst parts of the human experience. Lovely.

Let me put on my devil’s advocate hat for a moment and just take things too far. If the above is true, wouldn’t featuring all of those uncomfortable bits of bad human behavior and allowing PCs to wallow in them make your game a more powerful expression of what RPGs are all about, and wouldn’t your game be better for it? Shouldn’t I be saying: “All this stuff adds to the fantasy that is explicitly the entire point of the game, so put it in your game, lots of it!”

That would be an awfully weird position to take, wouldn’t it? Turns out it’s a tempting position, but not necessarily a good one. First, there’s more than enough opportunity for heroic exploit, agency and status in your average game. Dipping into the more problematic aspects of agency just isn’t necessary. Even if you wanted to, most are very sensitive subjects and should be handled with care and only with complete group buy-in. And of course if you don’t take sensitive issues seriously, like other problem play styles, you run the very real risk of trading in game status for out of game status (i.e.: you get labeled a jerk and no one wants to play with you because you don’t respect others’ boundaries.)

But, can dealing with these difficult extremes of agency and status in your game be done without issues? Yes, but it’s nothing groundbreaking. On the extreme end, with player buy-in you can absolutely play an evil game with PCs that push the envelope. In a more traditional game, you can include these issues but reserve them for villainous NPCs that heroic PCs put a stop to. You can include lesser versions of them (the faux racism of all dwarves and elves). You can reserve involuntary traits indicating a lesser status for non sentient or irredeemably evil beings (golems and demons are OK to pick on because even though their status is linked to race one is a mindless automaton, the other is literally made of evil. If your golems and demons don’t follow that mold, things get hazier. This is where the “all orcs are evil” problems come from. Are orcs inherently evil like in Lord of the Rings, or do they fall in a spectrum like most fantasy races?) In fact, these could lead to some interesting introspective role playing moments. Nothing groundbreaking. All common enough that this is not the first time you’ve heard of them.

So that’s it. That’s the short version of viewing role playing games through the lens of Veblen’s Theory Of The Leisure Class, and the problems that come with it. Hopefully it’s an interesting perspective.

    * Writing said book has been on my “someday projects” list for quite some time. Also feel free to let me know if that sounds lame and I should let it languish or if it sounds awesome and I should move it up the list

RPGS, Veblen, and Isms published first on http://ift.tt/2zdiasi