#and just. the symbolism. and the weird holy imagery you can get from the art in old tech. arhgjarghaghgahjkdfjd *mr krabs dying noises*

[cosmos-dot-semicolon]

via op

Speak no ill of the dead

[meowjf]

The intended symbolism behind my Hangman Tarot card

I wanted to do a write-up of my thought process behind each major part of this picture. Please note I’m writing this on an iPad while I have covid, so there are bound to be mistakes and weird autocorrects I didn’t catch. If any part is incoherent or weird, let me know and I’ll try and fix it.

Here’s a link to the full hangman piece for anyone who hasn’t seen it/wants to look at it for reference.

So, I wanted to start out by discussing this piece a little bit. Yes, this had a ton of thought put into the symbolism and a lot of the picture had direct meanings I was trying to get across. I think I made it a bit ham fisted at times, but I did make me super happy to see how much people appreciated and noticed the thought put into it. Often times, I would include things because I needed to solve a compositional problem, or I wanted to include something I thought was pretty. So I would try to find a way to solve those problems/include those elements while tying it back to the main picture. I also had some things I didn’t mean to include, but were pointed out in various tags/comments, so I included them at the end because I think they’re super interesting! Overall, this picture took me about 7 1/2 hours from start to finish.

The Hanged Man

My major reason for choosing this card was simply for it’s name. However, I did do some research into it, as I wanted to ensure the card would actually fit him. There’s lots of different meanings depending on where you look, but a common thread was letting go and metamorphosis. I personally really liked these meanings, and decided to make this illustration about that- his change and growth as a character. I started drawing this in the middle of his reconciliation with the Young Bucks. I think as a whole this picture is about him letting go of the trauma associated with the Elite: both he guilt over the hurt he caused them, and the anger over the hurt they caused him.

TL;DR: It’s about letting go of guilt/anger and growing as a person

Broken Mirror Halo

This has a direct 1:1 moment it’s meant to reflect, which I think everyone could guess

This is arguably his lowest moment, but also a major turning point. I wanted to explicitly make this mirror light halos from religious art. Part of this was for aesthetic- anyone who knows me knows I love light halos. But, often the worst points in our life can lead to major changes of the self (like a metamorphosis, winkwink) and turning a moment of despair into something “holy” was imagery I was really interested in playing with.

TL;DR: Sometimes the worst moments of our lives are also where change begins. And what is more divine than the human act of transformation?

Tangled in his Own Noose

This is the biggest example of solving an issue with imagery. In the original sketch, his legs were just sort of cut off at the frame, which looked really weird once I started to clean it up. Originally, the noose was hanging loose around his neck (an homage to his old gear), but while cleaning up the sketch I couldn’t find a way to make the hanging noose look good.

This was meant to represent him being tangled and tied down by his mistakes and strained relationships. The two major elements of this are him being tied tightly to the frame covered with images of alcohol, and to the belt. The belt became a way for him to “redeem” himself, but reality is rarely ever that simple and getting the belt wouldn’t solve everything. I also liked the idea of mixing something representing his mistakes with something representing Kenny’s corruption (the belt). While the ropes may be plentiful, they’re sloppily tied and can still be undone.

TL;DR: the ropes are his mistakes

The Frame

The frame is a little obvious- we all know our favorite cowboy has had his share of problems with alcohol. I did consciously choose to have the alcohol spilling out of the cups and bottles, as if they’re being disposed of. Something I couldn’t quite execute to it’s full potential was the fact that one of the whiskey glasses is directly below where his hand is. I wanted it to mimic him pouring out the drink. Lowering the opacity shows this a bit better.

TL;DR: Hangman likes alcohol too much but he’s better about it now.

The Monarch Butterfly

I was in the middle of working on this when he came out to save the bucks in his monarch butterfly pants. I immediately knew I had to include the butterflies in this pic, and I’m so happy I did. They were mostly there to connect to the recent episode, but I did do a little reading into meanings associated with Monarchs. They’re often associated with transformation. Considering this piece is directly about him growing and changing as a character, I was very happy they fit so well with the theme. Most of their placement was based off of aesthetics- I simply chose what I think looked best. The one conscious decision was to put a butterfly on the noose- a symbol of his new growth on top of the symbol of his previous mistakes.

TL;DR: Butterfly pants, but also transformation.

Unintentional Symbolism

Upside down horseshoes look like an Omega symbol- this was entirely a happy coincidence! I drew him in the in-ring gear he wore during Full Gear 2021. Maybe that was something they intentionally thought about when designing his gear? I’m always a sucker for wrestlers including other wrestler’s motifs in their gear, so having this pointed out was a delight! But since it’s not something I actively meant to include, I don’t have a lot to say about it.

Moonsault Pose- I think this one is really interesting. Him actively being in motion rather than being stuck hanging has really interesting implications. Like before, it’s not what I actively meant to include so I don’t have anything in depth to say about it. But it did make me stop and think about the piece in that context, so I thought it would be interesting to include here as well!

Some things I didn’t get to include/don’t have much meaning.

Dark Order- I didn’t really find a good way to include the dark order in this picture. I wish I did, but I couldn’t find a good way to include it without feeling busy. Unfortunately the purple + eye aesthetic didn’t look very good in this picture.

Bullet Club- I really wanted to find a way to include the bullet club into the noose that’s tying him to the frame, but couldn’t really find a way to that without it being distracting. There just wasn’t a good place to put any bullets or skulls. I did find a better way to do it in the Young Bucks + Flowers pics I did a whole ago.

The background pattern- the simple flower pattern was chosen because that’s what I thought looked the best. It was meant to mirror the flowers on his pants, but no additional meaning was put into that.

The Suns in each corner- the yellow circle in each corner of the frame is the sun. There’s no extra meaning to it, they just looked good with the color palette and matches the “riding off into the sunset” imagery he likes to use.

The End

That’s all for now, folks! This was surprisingly fun to write us. As a thank you for everyone who stuck around and read to the end, here’s the janky rough sketch, along with the final sketch that I ended up lining:

[mattsvn]

Nostalgia.

Iwaizumi Hajime x fem!reader

Summary: A summer after graduation finds Iwaizumi Hajime halfway across the globe, sitting in a lecture hall and staring at a golden dome that reminds him of the world and his place in it. Or, the lack thereof.

Genre: Slight angst to fluff. Character introspection, self discovery!

Word count: 4.4k

Warnings: none.

A/N: Guess who’s crying :smiley: Okay, so I got inspired by this tik tok, check it out, show the artist some love, and adding to another idea I had this came up, I hope you guys like it!  ALSO, that beautiful summary was suggested by @meliorist-midoriya​ !!!​ Repost from my old blog, this is on my favorite fics ever written hehe

There is something distinctive about the traces left by people in the places they inhabited. Whether intentional or not, to enter a house that was once occupied is to step into an unknown life, where all that remains are the lines drawn on the wall frames, with random dates, leaving a record of someone’s growth.

A part of the wall with a lighter color, where photographs once hung and the trace of old drawings on the wall could be seen even if you paid close attention. Seeing the home you had lived in for years empty, lifeless or without its distinctive smell caused an ache in your chest that you couldn’t describe, how was that atmosphere created again, with spotless walls, perfect floors and the lack of human warmth?

You weren’t afraid of living alone, you were afraid of having a lonely life.

It was frightening to think that the apartment you had just bought might feel like it was inhabited by a ghost, with no trace that anyone had ever been there. One way or another you wanted to make that space, with only two rooms and one bathroom, feel like your home, even if it was just you, even if you would only live there for a few months.

So, amidst the worry about establishing a home and hundreds of paperwork, came the first day of college, one more step to adapt to, the breaking of a routine you had just begun to create.

There was no better way to start that school year than by being on time, so, at least for the first week, you tried to be there early enough. It gave you time to get through the school buildings, and to finish your coffee just before the first class started.

Thursday arrived, with the first class being Medieval Art, not usually a subject that caught the attention of many, so it was common to see empty seats. Still, as usual, you were planning on choosing the seat right next to the window, where the sunlight illuminated your notes, but that day, it seemed that someone already occupied that place.

You sat next to him, there was no reason not to share the table, didn’t pay attention to him, it seemed that the boy was taking a nap a few minutes before class, probably he had a class before that one, or he was just tired. The teacher settled into her seat, and you glanced sideways, only to see that the boy was still asleep, not moving.

“One day, the architect, Frank Gehry said: architecture should speak of its time and place, but yearn for timelessness” she began, while behind her appeared the image of a building you had heard too much about. “I think one of the best representations of this is Hagia Sofia” she continued, showing the image of that beautiful golden dome behind her, she kept talking.

As the guy next to you opened his eyes, sleepily he took a deep breath, concentrating on the image in front of him, with some concern he took the supplies from his backpack to take notes for the class, he seemed lost, confused and, in general, tired, like he was there by mistake, or, against his will.

Iwaizumi was not usually like this. Before moving to the United States, he had never been late for a class, he was the type of person who kept everything in order, always punctual, with notes in order and an impeccable grade. A role model in every sense of the word, student, athlete and perfect son.

But as soon as he arrived from his flight, tired to the bone and affected by jet lag, he slept as much as he could, only to wake up in the early morning, stunned by the different time zone he could not fall asleep at the right time, he still couldn’t get used to the food offered there, and he was unable to find the ingredients he would commonly use in Miyagi to eat.

People drove on the left seat, and the road was on the right side, they used to eat on the street without any concern, or on the way to their jobs and schools, nor did there seem to be manners in public transportation, at least no the ones he knew. There were words that confused him, and the symbols on the streets made his head spin.

People did not have the same habits he knew, and he noticed that after only a couple of days after moving in. By the time school started, Iwaizum was still trying to sleep at the time he was used to and didn’t make it until two or three in the morning, so, it resulted in waking up late and sleeping in between classes, he still wasn’t used to having his notes in English, so his handwriting looked weird, the teachers spoke too fast for him to understand, therefore, his notes were all over the place

Not to mention how unpunctual they were, he found himself a couple of times arriving late to class, only to find out that the teacher wasn’t there, and that it would probably take them twenty minutes more to arrive, and sometimes, they would cancel the class when you were already there, just because.

Even in the classes he looked forward the most, he found himself tired, bored, easily distracted, and he expected the same from this one, a subject he had taken only to complete his units. But, when he opened his eyes, he swore he had never seen anything as beautiful as that. A gorgeous dome of gleaming gold, with light streaming in through the windows and the distinctive marks of history on its walls.

It took him a few seconds to listen to the professor properly, as he was still impressed with what he saw on the projector, there was nothing that did not interest him, from the columns to that painting of the Virgin Mary, an impeccable marble floor, and, the mixture of both religions on its walls was perhaps what left him most curious of all that he had seen.

There was nothing like that in Japan, or at least not that he remembered. Byzantine architecture had that distinctive feature in which it left you mesmerized for a moment, he was so enraptured by it that he didn’t notice that there was someone sitting next to him, taking notes of the things the teacher was saying, with a slightly frown, concentrating, and different pens scattered around the table. The teacher continued talking, still detailing how a building created almost fifteen hundred years ago remained one of the finest constructions in human history.

Hagia Sofia, she read from the blackboard. He wrote down the title in a slightly disorganized way, along with the rest of the words on the board.

Hagia Sofia, meaning: holy wisdom. Constantinople, now Istanbul.

“Long before what we now know, the Byzantine Empire took place in what is now Istanbul, the capital of this empire is perhaps one of the most important historical and architectural sites of the Medieval Era, this was the largest known church  for about a thousand years. It has been used as a church, a mosque and now serves as a museum.” She explained, showing the various images of the building. ”There were two later constructions after this, one destroyed in a fire and the second in the Niká riots, then, in the year 532 construction began on what we now know as Hagia Sofia.“

"Wow” Iwazumi sighed, absently sketching the shape of the building.

“I won’t tell you much about this building, at least not for now,” said the teacher, pausing for a moment to look at the picture. “I want an essay on this topic, and I would like you to gather in pairs for it.” she asked them. “I just want your opinions and analysis on the things that are most important to you about the place and what you think is meant to be represented by these, either imagery or architecture. Your partner will be the person who is closest to you, starting with the two of you, at the bottom.”

You looked at Iwaizumi out of the corner of your eye, having to work with people you didn’t know was always a problem, but, you hoped it wouldn’t be like that this time. He also looked at you, a little relieved thinking that you would surely know something about Medieval Architecture, not like him, who felt totally lost in that new subject. Even so, he returned his gaze to the front, memorizing every detail of that dome in his mind.

The class continued, with the teacher talking about historical processes in the fifth century and the topics that would be taken throughout the course, Hajime could not help but see the excitement that certain topics caused you, especially with the mention of some gothic buildings. And so, in the blink of an eye, the class was over, and before he realized it, you were already grabbing your things to leave.

“My next class is Historical Theory, what’s yours? We can organize on the way” you said, looking at him for a second while you closed your backpack. Iwaizumi tried to put his belongings away as quickly as possible, but failed a bit with his clumsy movements. “What’s your major?"

"Oh, Sports Science,” he replied. Your reaction was as expected: confusion, what was a sports science major doing in a medieval art class? “All the other classes were busy and I needed some extra units.”

“Oh, I see” you nodded, walking out of the classroom with him walking beside you.

“What’s your major?” he asked, feeling somewhat embarrassed that he hadn’t asked that before.

“Art History” you replied, with a smile. “By the way, my name is y/n” you said, extending your hand, he received it, still not used to the way people introduced themselves there, but little by little he was starting to adjust to it.

“Iwaizumi Hajime” he cleared his throat, here they speak by first names, not last names, you idiot, he said to himself in his mind. “Hajime.”

“So, Hajime, you didn’t organize your classes on time, you take naps before class, and you don’t know anything about Medieval Art” you jokingly commented. “We have quite a bit to learn, don’t you think?”

“Uh… y-yes” he nodded, stopping when you did, not even realizing how far he had walked. “I won’t let you do all the work, if that’s what you’re worried about” he assured, it seemed they were in front of the door to your next class the moment you stopped and looked at the door, Iwaizumi didn’t want to take up your time, but he had no idea what to say either.

“Well, how about we meet in the library later this week? You can give me your number so we can schedule the day” you hoped the professor wouldn’t come to the classroom while you were talking to  Iwaizumi, as he seemed like a very nice person, despite how nervous he was.

“Sure, I have the whole afternoon off tomorrow, is that okay?” you nodded, extending your phone to him so he could write down his number and name, to your luck, he returned it just in time.

“Sounds perfect to me, I’ll text you as soon as my class is over” you said, saying goodbye and entering just before the teacher, who closed the door behind himself.

Iwaizumi stared at the door for a few seconds, letting out a sigh,then, he walked to his next class. It felt awfully strange to walk around campus alone, with no one by his side. Maybe he had gotten too used to spending his free time with the rest of his friends in highschool, and, at times like these, where he was waiting for a message from a cute girl, he couldn’t help but think about how much he missed them.

He was alone, and that was terrifying.

Iwaizumi looked at his phone for the third time in an hour, the class, food chemistry, was just short of making him fall asleep, yet he couldn’t help but look at his phone and wonder at what point the cute girl in the Medieval Art class would send him a message.

She didn’t until almost four hours later, just as Iwaizumi had recently returned to his apartment and was working on a long assignment for the rest of the week. Ignoring the sound of a message at first, thinking it was probably Oikawa bugging him about some new thing he learned in Argentina, so, he didn’t look at his phone until a couple of minutes later, when a second message came through.

“Hi! Sorry I didn’t talk to you sooner, I’ve been a little busy, but this is my number!”

“My last class ends at 2:00 p.m., do you mind if I meet you at that time in the library?”

He answered almost immediately, regretting later for doing it so quickly, you look like a desperate idiot, he thought. To his luck, as soon as he locked the phone, the screen lit up again with the reply.

It seemed that after that things flowed perfectly, even though before he met her they would have seemed like inconveniences to him, now they looked as an opportunity. The professor for tomorrow’s class informed them that he was out of town, so his classes would start until the following week, which gave Iwaizumi a chance to continue with his homework calmly, and, to get ready to see the pretty girl the next day, maybe even sleep properly that night.

However, nothing went as he planned.

Again, he found himself staring at the ceiling at midnight, without any possibility of being able to fall asleep, no matter how hard he tried, nothing seemed to work. That wasn’t his bed, nor his sheets or his favorite pillow, it wasn’t his wall or the window overlooking his backyard. As he stared at the empty, flat ceiling, he wondered why he couldn’t at least see a golden dome so he would have something to think about while he tried to sleep.

And so he woke up quite late, much later than he was used to. Maybe his body took the opportunity to recover all his lost energy, he had no idea. The only thing he knew was that he woke up thirty minutes before the agreed time with the pretty girl, and, it took fifteen minutes to get to the library from where he was.

He sent as many messages as he could while getting dressed and trying to look as presentable as possible. At least it wasn’t strange to see people running around campus, although it was in the first few weeks of school, where no one was really worried about anything.

“I told you I could wait a while” you mentioned, Iwaizumi was standing in front of her, trying to control his breathing, visibly agitated for having run all the way to the library. “Tell me you at least ate something” you murmured, in a way to accept his apology, then he sat on the free seat in front of you, trying to avoid that questioning.

“I can eat something later, sorry I was late” he apologized, again, he expected you to be upset, but you weren’t, instead, the first thing he saw was a reassuring smile, you hadn’t been more than ten minutes late, so, there was really no problem. “Again, I’m sorry, I was…”

“You don’t have to apologize, Iwaizumi. You were only ten minutes late, I’ve known people who take an hour to show up” the boy looked at the table for the first time, it was almost like the mess she had in yesterday’s class, only now it had several open books around it. “My class ended early so I went ahead to research an assignment I had, don’t you want to go get something to eat before we start?”

“I’d rather do this and then I can eat something, I wouldn’t want to waste your time even more” he replied, it was too obvious that he still didn’t quite master English, or maybe he did but he was quite embarrassed about how it was that he pronounced things. “I’ve never had this happen to me before, I’m sorry, I’m not usually like this.”

“How many times do I have to tell you it’s okay? Seriously, but why are you late? If you say it doesn’t usually happen to you” Iwaizumi looked towards the window with a frown, he felt like he would spend an embarrassment for that, because, sleeping late was not a good excuse, actually, nothing was a good excuse for his lateness, but still, he sighed. “Don’t tell me you’re coming in with a hangover?”

“No, no, not at all. It’s just… I’m still not used to the time change here and I’m used to sleeping at a totally different time” he said, though there was more to it.

The insomnia was only a collateral result of how he felt, and perhaps what kept him most irritable. Perhaps he had chosen that change too quickly, or the feeling was probably something that would fade with time. But he couldn’t help but feel like he wasn’t quite connected to reality, like he was living a strange dream. The routine he had worked on for years that kept him safe was gone, and was now out of his reach.

He missed going out every Tuesday for lunch with Oikawa, Makki and Mattsun. He missed walking to school and greeting his neighbors, or the way Oikawa’s older sister squeezed his cheeks, even though he said how much he detested it, he missed the karaoke he went to once a month and his mother’s food, hell, he even missed Oikawa’s obnoxious nephew.

“So, where are you from? Moving is hard enough, I can’t imagine doing it from another country” he looked at her, realizing she was genuinely concerned and curious, she meant it. The sincerity brought him calm, enough to say what he felt.

“Japan, I just got here a couple of weeks ago, I still don’t understand much and my English isn’t the best so I’m not having the best time” he pointed out, as he picked up his notebook, watching as she jotted something down on the computer, adding a document to start the essay. “Not to be rude, but your culture is really weird.”

“You don’t have to tell me, it is. But you end up getting used to it, don’t you? I find people’s behavior patterns depending on their culture interesting” Iwaizumi hadn’t even noticed that there was already a book on Byzantine architecture on the table, which showed a picture of Hagia Sophia from the outside. “Besides, it’s normal to miss your hometown, don’t you think, what did you most like to do there?”

“Playing volleyball with my friends” he answered without hesitation, for it was true. He missed every detail of it, from the practices, to the coach yelling at his teammates to the games, even the ones he lost.

“Oh, were they on a team together?” she put the computer aside, devoting her full attention to him. Iwaizumi nodded, ready to talk about all the amazing things his team had. “Were you guys good?”

“Well, yes. At least within reason, we were. We never made it to nationals, but within our prefecture we were very good” he nodded, still feeling the bitter taste of defeat on the tip of his tongue as if it had happened yesterday, his last chance to go to nationals ended before it even started.

“And what position did you play?” he questioned, Iwaizumi picked up the book on the table solely to have something to distract himself with.

“Uh, wing spiker. I was the ‘ace’ of the school, but of course, I couldn’t be any of it without Oikawa."

"Oikawa?”

The conversation did not stop since then, between readings, corrections and stories about his high school, Iwaizumi did not even realize that almost three hours had passed, three hours in which he could not believe what he saw in images, despite all the fear he had, all the nostalgia that accumulated inside him, seeing that building in Constantinople brought him a peace that he could not manage to understand, no matter how much he wondered what was going on.

Although it didn’t compare to how the pretty girl explained things, he should probably stop referring to her as the pretty girl and start calling her by her name, as he ended up forgetting it, and every time she said his name, he blamed himself for not remembering hers. He learned everything he wanted to know in one afternoon, thanks to her, the semi domes, the atrium, every detail, structural and artistic there, he memorized it with her voice, melodious, calm, safe.

After making a couple of questions, he lost his fear of asking what he was seeing, because, as she told him, “no one knows everything, there will always be someone who knows something you don’t”. So, he ended up engaged in a conversation about the wonders of medieval architecture and no more than ten minutes later, the conversation drifted to the karaoke that his friends loved, or the park where he and Oikawa learned to play volleyball.

Life at the university became more bearable thanks to her, Iwaizumi heard the story of how she had just moved out of her parents’ house, how they also moved out of their house and the pain it caused her to leave the home she loved empty. She enjoyed knitting, watching movies and listening to new music all the time. In a couple of weeks, he discovered her favorite food, and the kind of clothes she liked best, the movies that made her cry and the ones that made her die laughing, and with each thing he learned, she asked him the same questions. Even though he wasn’t entirely sure how he was supposed to answer, or what people used to say, it made him wonder if he seemed like a nice person or someone who would be interesting to spend time with.

Tuesdays of going out to eat became Tuesdays of organized movies in the dorms, once-a-month karaokes became visits to museums instead of his neighbors, now he was greeting his roommates every morning, now the cute girl in Medieval Art class was the one squeezing his cheeks, it seemed that, little by little, everything was starting to be as he knew it.

Or at least that’s what he thought

“But what do you like, Iwaizumi?” she asked him on a sunny afternoon where sunlight illuminated her room and there was a random movie on TV as the background noise, around her a lot of snacks and fried food, that’s what Saturdays were like, relaxed and sunny. “I almost feel like I know Oikawa like you do, but you don’t tell me much about yourself.”

“Huh?” he asked, doubtful, hadn’t he been talking about himself all that time, or had he only thought he was? “I don’t know what you want to know about me.”

“I want to know who you are, beyond all your friends and the people in your life.I know what Oikawa likes and how many fans he had or the perfect settings he did, but I want to know about you.” she told him.

She didn’t know if it was because the girl was an art enthusiast, or if she just hadn’t met someone who wanted to know more about him for her own pleasure, for what she felt was inexplicable.

“Well, well… with my team” he began, stopping the moment he saw the look on the girl’s face, who could only thus make him feel as if he were a scolded child. He sighed, running his hand through his hair, confused as to what it was he should say.

“Who are you, Iwaizumi, what do you like, what song do you like the most? I don’t want to know about other people, I want to know about you, about what makes you who you are.” She began, the moment only seemed more special with the way the sun was shining on her skin and her smile seemed to shine even brighter than it always did. “I know you’re a good teammate, a good son, a good friend, but who are you, what are the qualities that you have?”

He looked into her eyes, how many times hadn’t he stopped to look into those beautiful eyes that stole his breath, or those lips that said the cutest yet most painful things?“

"Iwaizumi. I want you to tell me the story that you have, like Hagia Sophia, do you remember all the marks that it has? the mix of everything that lies in you? There is so much history in who you are beyond your friends, I want to know if you are happy or if you like ice cream, how you react to things. I hope you understand me, it’s okay to like things that your friends do or showed you, but I don’t think it should be all that you are, so, who are you?”

Still not taking his eyes off her, he remembered every detail of the building he studied for weeks, the religious motifs and art on its walls, the history even in the broken parts of the floor, or those portions where the paint was completely gone. And, with tears in his eyes, he replied:

“I don’t know.” He murmured, his voice trembling.

And he really didn’t know, he had lived so long being a friend, son, teammate and neighbor that, little by little, without realizing it, he stopped prioritizing the things that to him and only to him made him happy.

“Well, there’s only one thing to do about it” she murmured in the same way, very close to him as if she were telling him a secret. “Find out who you are.”

And just like that, the first picture of the two of you decorated your wall, along with some paint smudges from a sunny afternoon, a canvas, and some brushes, and a volleyball mark at first. Two wrongs can make a right, your mother would say. You, in search of rebuilding your space, and he, in search of himself.

You couldn’t have picked a better time than that, or a better life than that.

taglist: @sugas-sweetheart @kirislut @hannahalanib1 @goopyartiste @yee-harr @ohno-grapes @peach-pops @meliorist-midoriya @milktyama @majestic-sea-flip-flop @starlessnyx @tanakasimpcorner @msbyslugg @ordinary-ace @boosyboo9206

[hartsgold]

𝐀𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐨. 𝐕𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐥𝐨. 𝐎𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐫.

𝚖𝚢 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚞𝚍𝚎 𝚟𝚘𝚗 𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚗. 𝚒 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚒𝚛𝚘𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚝𝚎, 𝚏𝚘𝚍𝚕𝚊𝚗, 𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚣𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚍𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚌𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚑 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚜𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚌 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚕. 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚝𝚎, 𝚛𝚑𝚎𝚊, 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚝, 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢.

i’ve been working as a researcher at the institute for four years now, and am familiar with most of our significant contracts and projects. most reach dead ends, predictably enough, as incidents of the supernatural, such as they are - and i always emphasize there are very few genuine cases - tend to resist easy conclusions. when an investigation has gone as far as it can, it is transferred to the archives.

now, the institute was founded in 1818, which means that the archive contains almost 200 years of case files at this point. combine that with the fact that most of the institute prefers the ivory tower of pure academia to the complicated work of dealing with statements or recent experiences and you have the recipe for an impeccably organized library and an absolute mess of an archive. this isn’t necessarily a problem - modern filing and indexing systems are a real wonder, and all it would need is a half-decent archivist to keep it in order. my predecessor was apparently not that archivist.

from where I am sitting, i can see thousands of files. many spread loosely around the place, others crushed into unmarked boxes. a few have dates on them or helpful labels such as 86-91 G/H. not only that, but most of these appear to be handwritten or produced on a typewriter with no accompanying digital or audio versions of any sort. in fact, i believe the first computer to ever enter this room is the laptop that i brought in today. more importantly, it seems as though little of the actual investigations have been stored in the archives, so the only thing in most of the files are the statements themselves.

it is going to take me a long, long time to organize this mess. i’ve managed to secure the services of several researchers to assist me. I plan to digitize the files as much as possible and record audio versions, though some will have to be on tape recorder, as my attempts to get them on my laptop have met with… significant audio distortions.

that’s probably enough time spent making my excuses for the state of this place, and i suppose we have to begin somewhere.

𝚊𝚞𝚍𝚒𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚢 𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚞𝚍𝚎 𝚟𝚘𝚗 𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚗, 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚒𝚛𝚘𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚝𝚎, 𝚏𝚘𝚍𝚕𝚊𝚗.

𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙩𝙨: photography / texture art / tma s01e01 blurb & transcription. 

Hello! If you’re reading this, welcome to the hell that is The Seiros Archives. I’m hoping to make this as comprehensive a series translation as possible without integrating too many spoilers/telling the stories of characters that aren’t mine (save Sothis and Rhea, who seemed lore-mandatory additions). For example, I don’t have a character to fulfill [Gertrude/the past Archivist’s] position, simply because I can’t think of one and would prefer not to kill anyone off that might want to use this as an AU base. (Feel free to, btw! Just let me know/tag me in your verse thoughts, I’m so excited to read ‘em!) 

Spoilers below. Additionally: please peruse the Wiki pages with caution. There’s a trigger list for TMA episodes/general content warnings located here. 

Essentially: 

The Seiros Archives is an institution that’s existed for two centuries, currently under the jurisdiction of one Rhea, who claims to have come into control of it within the last decade or so. Obviously, this is not true. Rhea’s been alive since the founding of this institute, as she had it built order to resurrect Sothis/The Beginning/The Beholding, [her mother]. 

Sothis is both a God and not. In TMA, Gods are also known as ‘The Entities’, or The Fears. They are described, on the wiki, as such: 

The Entities are various aspects of an amorphous force of fear that exists next to reality. Their influence upon reality manifests as supernatural happenings - all supernatural phenomena in the world are simply extensions of them. These phenomena can take various forms such as people, animals, monsters, books, objects, or places.These entities do not simply feed off of our fear, rather they are our fears made manifest. “These things... these forces, they are our fear. Deep fears. Primordial. Always looking for ways to grow and spread.” Not all their actions inspire fear, they are simply a part of the process, a means to an end. (cont. This link includes a list of the Fears and should be read with caution, as there is some horror imagery, etc.)

In this verse, I’m going to conflate Sothis with The Eye, or The Ceaseless Watcher. She is an Entity of Fear manifested specifically as “being watched, exposed, followed, of having secrets known, but also the drive to know and understand, even if your discoveries might destroy you. Fear that you’re suffering for the sake of something watching.” I think her relationship with being able to control the flow of time and know results of the past and future translate well here. It’s terrifying to consider someone who Knows what might happen in the far future can directly alter it as well. 

Let’s say that Sothis’ “death” in this verse was a failed “Ritual” of The Eye. Centuries ago, Rhea attempted to bring her mother’s Entity to full power above all the others. 

Rituals are ceremonies held in order to empower The Entities. “Most entities have their own ‘ritual’, a symbolic act that, if completed, will allow the entity to merge with reality, changing the fabric of the world as it exert its will and nature upon reality. These rituals have the potential to bring other closely-tied entities along with it. It requires centuries for each Entity to build up the power needed for its ritual, and if it is stopped, it cannot try again until it rebuilds that power base. No ritual has ever succeeded” (x). 

When Rhea’s Ritual for The Eye was thwarted, the Entity lost a great sum of its garnered power. I imagine she was an Avatar of the fear, and her connection with her mother was severed to an extent. As a result, she began to construct the Seiros Institute as a means of rebuilding power for the sake of The Eye. 

Avatars are essentially vessels for spreading the influence of The Entities. “Some humans can become attached to an Entity and become empowered by it, gaining supernatural abilities related to their patron, but losing some or all of their humanity in the process. Most people fall to the powers through love or fear, though it can happen for other reasons such as debt. Avatars and agents of a power retain their agency but can become physically dependent on it, suffering withdrawal effects, including death, if they go too long without feeding the entity that empowers them” (x). 

People influenced by, or who encounter Avatars are often Marked by them, and other Entities alongside their Avatars can sense this fact.

In building The Seiros Institute, Rhea hopes to give Sothis enough power through a ritual to “merge with reality”/live again/to be able to communicate with her once more. 

The former hired Archivist stopped countless Rituals of The Entities, and was eventually killed as a result of attempting to quell Rhea’s efforts.

There are tunnels underneath the institute in canon, which I’m going to say is the equivalent of the Holy Tomb. 

Characters, once employed by The Institute, are unable to quit/be fired. Literally. This is a canon mechanic, where they can’t even say the words. 

TL;DR: This is set in a modern Fódlan. I imagine it as something of a large city interconnected with several other neighboring states, such as Almyra, Brigid, Dagda, etc. 

Are there tense relations between these places? Of course! Is The Empire probably allied with a different Entity and is aggravated that Rhea is doing what she’s doing? Very likely! Are Those Who Slither In The Dark likely allied with one as well, or are experimenting on people in the attempt to complete a Ritual? Why Not! 

The Entities create very viciously real manifestations of their respective fears, so people have supernatural encounters of all kinds. Vampires––weird lore, but yes. People being replaced by doppelgängers––Oh, Yeah. Circus people who steal voice boxes and dance around with mannequin limbs? Uh huh. Worms? Don’t forget the worms. As weird as you can think of it! 

So this modern Fódlan is rife with the eccentric and the supernatural. At the moment, The Seiros Institute is simply an academic place set on recording and understanding those supernatural occurrences! 

I’m setting Khalid as the current archivist because he seems the appropriate “linchpin” figure that Jon is in the main series, having been marked by several Entities. As the most knowledge and balance-hungry of the Three Lords, he fits the part. Obviously there’s something to be said of Byleth’s potential role as an Archivist, but the Archivist does a lot of talking, much like Khalid. He also interacts with everyone giving statements to the Archive, and I think Khalid’s canonical tendency to disarm others in exchange for secrets and stories is par for this course. 

Nonetheless, if you do want to use this AU as a base for your Byleth or any other character, please don’t feel restricted by anything! 

Whether your characters are employed by the Archive, is an Avatar for a Fear, or is simply terrified by whatever the fuck is going on here, please feel free to get in on this! Write it with me! Ask me any questions you might have and I’ll do my best to spoil myself on this wonderful podcast further so I can answer you to the best of my ability! [I’m about 75 episodes in right now, but am content to spoil myself, truly...] So please hit me up anytime. I’m really excited about this and would love to plot things out with you! 

[truecantaloupelove-blog]

The Underlying Christian Symbolism in Undertale: Asriel’s Messianic Parallels

         Yesterday we talked about the Devil, so today we’re talking about Christ. Or at least, I should say, Christ-like characters in Undertale. I’m referring of course to Asriel Dreemurr. Despite the brevity of time he actually spends on screen, Asriel is easily one of the most endearing and heartbreaking characters in the entire game, and for Undertale, that’s saying something. Judging from the amount of fan art and fan fictions dedicated to him, he’s left more of an impact on the fanbase than any other character with the exception of Sans. It’s not hard to see why; many consider him to be the purest embodiment of love, pacifisms, and selflessness in the game, yet he’s been dealt the most tragic lot of any of the characters. Effectively, Asriel is the one person you cannot save. But beyond the obvious general parallels of the two figures, is this there something more to this sweet and tragic goat boy than meets the eye?

           I’m of the opinion there is. Finding religious subtexts in video is always a slippery and volatile subject, but in this case, I can’t shake the feeling that the parallels are too pointed to ignore. I don’t think Asriel was meant to be a direct analogue to Jesus in the way characters such as Aslan from the Chronicles of Narnia are. But I find it hard to believe that his character wasn’t at least inspired by Christ, and hopefully by the end of this post you’ll see what I mean.

           The first encounter we could say we have with Asriel is at the very beginning of the game in the form of Flowey. However, there seems to be some debate amongst the fanbase as to whether Asriel and Flowey can even be considered the same character, so polar opposite are their personalities. King Asgore may look like a devil, but Flowey is the closest thing the Underground has to an actual demon in terms of what he does. Much like the Fallen Child, he often works vicariously through others, using temptation and manipulating to coerce people into furthering his plans. Also like the Fallen Child, Flowey is soulless, and thus incapable of feeling love for others. The “Asriel” side of him only re-emerges in the presence of the souls that allowing him to feel compassion once more. Just for that reason alone, I’m going to be treating Asriel and Flowey as separate characters throughout this post, the same way I would consider the entity we meet at the end of the Genocide Route to be something distinct from the original First Child who fell into the Underground. However, that being said, it’s interesting to note that the first and the being we fight is always either Flowey or Asriel, whether one is doing a pacifist, neutral, or genocide playthrough. One way or another, the Flowey/Asriel entity acts as bookends to the entire game and seems to exist on a more meta level than the rest of the cast, when we listen closely to their dialogue.

           First, here are a couple of the more superficial parallels between Asriel and Jesus. Both of them are described as the only naturally born son of a king, but are also described as having adopted siblings, and both are held up as great symbols of hope at their birth. Both at some point claim to be God. Despite this, both of them appear to bring great tragedy and hardship to the lives of all who love them, at least at first. Asriel is very compassionate and gentle to others; the story of how he treated the First Human child could be described as a textbook example of the Good Samaritan. Both figures die unjustly at the hands of their enemies, refusing to fight back despite having the ability to destroy everyone who was harming them. Also, curiously, the name “Asriel” can mean “Prince of God”, in addition to being a portmanteau of the names Asgore and Toriel. This very name is actually used in the Bible for one of the sons of Manasseh, so if it sounds Hebrew in origin, that’s because it is.

           From there the similarities start to deepen. Both Asriel and Jesus have prophecies that refer to them. For Asriel, it’s the Delta Rune that’s said to predate written history, according to Gerson. The Delta Rune is probably going to get its own post at some point because of how packed it is with brilliant symbolism, so I’ll try to be brief here. 

        To put it simply, the Delta Rune is the symbol of an “angel” from above who will cause the underground to go empty, whether by freeing all monsters or by killing all of them. There’s some debate as to who exactly this “angel” is, many would believe it was the player, and in the genocide run, it very well might be. On the pacifist, run, however, the “angel” definitely aligns most closely with Asriel, and the reflection of the Delta Rune’s design in his final form is evidence of this (note the location of the triangles on his body) This is really the only prophecy we know of that links to Asriel directly, but it’s still a prophecy nonetheless.

           Ultimately, Asriel is the one who breaks the barrier and sets all monsters free from the Underworld. Not only this, but he does so at the cost his own life, giving up the souls and reverting back to a flower. If I really have point out to you why this would be reminiscent of Christ, then this blog probably isn’t your cup of tea. But that’s not all. Right before the barrier is shattered, Asriel’s spite rises off of the ground and takes a very particular stance before committing the act. He begins speaking some inaudible words as the souls rush out of him and a really dramatic guitar riff starts playing in the background. But take a close look at that pose. Does it remind you of anything?

           There are some other peculiarities in the following scenes that seem to call back on New Testament imagery. One is the actual depiction of the barrier being shattered. It appears as a white screen cracking in two and the halves separating, before the message “The barrier was destroyed” flashes across the screen. It’s hard to say what exactly most of us were expecting we would see when we witnessed the destruction of the barrier, but I have to imagine that most of us saw this as a very minimalistic approach, almost a letdown, really, to such a dramatic event.

           Or was it?

           I can’t help but look but look at this picture of the barrier being destroyed and not be a little reminded of Matthew 27:50-51, “And when Jesus had cried out again in a loud voice, he gave up his spirit. At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. The earth shook, the rocks split, and the tombs broke open.”

           Anyone who’s done their theological homework knows that the curtain in the Jewish Temple was a symbol of the separation of God’s holiness and the sins of humanity. In effect, it acted as a barrier between man and God. And with the death of Jesus, that barrier of separation is destroyed. This symbolism wasn’t lost on the New Testament writers, it’s actually quite explicit. Ephesians 2:14 reads “For he [Christ] himself is our peace, who has made the two groups one and has destroyed the barrier, the dividing wall of hostility.”

           Is this starting to get weird yet? Maybe up to this point, I still that all of this could just be a big coincidence, an unlikely set of parallels to the Bible that a video game happens to exhibit, perhaps because these Biblical archetypes are just so ubiquitously ingrained in our culture. And who knows, maybe that’s all it is. 

           But there is one more detail.

           I don’t remember when exactly it was I began to suspect that Undertale might have religious themes woven into its subtext. But perhaps it was around the point I started noticing the subtle topics of death and resurrection within the story, and their connection to the “soul”. The Fallen Child Chara apparently resurrects at the end of the genocide run (though whether that entity is actually Chara seems doubtful). Also, they appear to be communicating within the mind of Frisk, narrating the events on the screen as they happen, leading some to believe that Frisk is actually the reincarnation of Chara. Asriel himself undergoes a twofold resurrection within the game, first as a soulless flower at the hands of Dr. Alphys, and later back to his full being with the absorption of the human souls.

           And then, there are the six other humans who fell underground.

           There are a lot of unanswered mysteries in Undertale, but one of the ones I find the most puzzling is the question of what happened to the human souls when Asriel gave them up to break the barrier? Did they dissipate, were they taken to the afterlife, or did something…else…happen to them? There’s a hint in the game, but it raises more questions than answers.

           If you go past the throne room in Asgore’s palace, you will find a set of stairs leading to his basement. If you follow them all the way down, you will find this room:

           If you try to look into the coffin you find the name of the first human on it, also with the description that it’s empty. By logical extension, the other coffins are the six other children.

           If you go back to the basement after having saved Asriel, when the barrier is broken, you find this:

           All of the tombs are empty and all save the first one are open.

           Let’s go back to Matthew 27 for a second. If we keep reading from where we left off; “…At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. The earth shook, the rocks split, and the tombs broke open. The bodies of many holy people who had died were raised to life. They came out of the tombs after Jesus’ resurrection and after Jesus’ resurrection they went into the holy city and appeared to many people.”

           Uncanny, isn’t it? Why are all the coffins open except for the one already stated to be empty? Where are the bodies? And where is the body of the First Child? Are they really dead?

           We never get any answers, but if you go to check the coffin again, you’ll find the message “The coffin is empty…? You didn’t notice it before, but there’s something like…mummy wrappings at the bottom of it.”

           Most likely these would be grave clothes, or perhaps a shroud. But this seems like an awfully insignificant detail to slip into a room so filled with unanswered questions. All it really tells is that the body isn’t in the coffin anymore. And it wasn’t reburied somewhere else, since the grave clothes were taken off. Does this also sound familiar?

           “So Peter and the other disciple started for Jesus’ tomb. Both were running, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first. He bent over and looked in at the strips of linen lying there but did not go in. Then Simon Peter came along behind him and went straight into the tomb. He saw the strips of linen lying there, as well as the cloth that had been wrapped around Jesus’ head. The cloth was still lying in its place, separate from the linen. Finally the other disciple, who had reached the tomb first, also went inside. He saw and believed.” (John 20:4-8)

           So, what are we to make of this? It’s not uncommon for stories or video games to involve a Messianic archetype, but the detail of symbolism used in this case suggests there might be something more going on with Asriel than your usual stock redeemer character. Coupled with Asriel’s father’s resemblance to Satan, Asriel’s flower alter ego playing a much more actual Satanic character, and the fact that this boy is the one person you CAN’T save, but who essentially dies AFTER resurrecting in the “friendly RPG where no one has to die”, this mystery of Undertale lends itself to some rather confusing, and frankly disturbing, implications.

           Stay safe, folks. Until next time, this is Truecantaloupelove, signing off.

[wetbloodworm]

okay new content now

before i get into the bullets again (love communicating through bullet points), i crumpled like a cheap suit and shared art of his true form so fuck it let’s share it

there’s my kid! the only significant change i’ve made since this design was that there’s probably webbing between his fingers since he’s built for “swimming”. i’ve also played with one set of arms being like. scythe arms, which is fun but i don’t think that’s canon unless he has shapeshifting abilities. which i don’t think he does. anyway the notes are pretty self-explanatory for anything else i could get into, except maybe size since there’s no sense of scale here. here’s a dnd height chart i found

I generally picture him as a little shorter than the length of the Gargantuan being in the back, only what’s visible and not the implication of there being more underground. he’s also slimmer and like 90% neck and tail so my gut says he’d be classed as Huge? maybe?? i’m not good with scale

also when i first shared his holy symbol haley joked that it was a self portrait and she was right, actually!

those are his eyes! :) they don’t touch like that but it’s a symbol. i picture it being a decently recognizable symbol to those that zenith has spoken to via dreams before, b/c it’s one of the few things you can make out on his true form if he has them open, and he tends to stare.

okay bullet time for the rest. bouncing all around here, some thoughts based off the previous posts and other ideas i’ve had as i’m constantly rotating this kid around in my head

talking about his eyes a bit more, they also have the same shifting galaxy effect that’s in the... cloud things around his head and tail. for funsies i like to picture his humanoid avatar’s eyes flashing like that when he’s hunting/eating dreams. love me some eye imagery.

thought about it and i’m changing zenith’s pronouns to he/they/any. my explanation from the previous post remains the same, but there’s just no reason to exclude she/her or spivak or anything from what he’s chill with. gender is weird and barely means anything to him. he still prefers he/they/it in different arrangements depending on who he’s presenting as and he’s more likely to respond to those since that’s what he’s more accustomed to, but everything else is fine also. if he knows someone’s talking about him no pronoun will phase him. gender is weird.

in his humanoid avatar, zenith is frequently moving, shifting his weight or bouncing/swaying or gesturing/fiddling with his hands, etc. i specify his humanoid avatar because this isn’t natural for him, he doesn’t stim a bunch naturally, it’s just a way for him to try to stay focused in on one body when he’s split between two. keep throwing a bunch of sensory input at one so it’s easier to ignore the other. if/when he merges the two it’s a tossup whether he’ll keep up the stimming as a habit or cut it out since it’s no longer necessary. i’m imagining a cross between the two, doesn’t need to move so much but likes to gesture and play with his hands.

trying to work out the mechanics of how the dream eating works because i need to know. this isn’t set in stone, because i try to find a balance of character/lore building for my own enjoyment/so that i’m not giving my dm extra work and letting my dm control the mechanics of the game i’m playing in. when it comes down to it, haley has the final say IMO and i’m always happy to adjust whatever i need to. BUT this is at least my idea for how it works!

new bullet for clarity. anyway, how the dream eating works. zenith’s magic is heavily psionic-based, and before the split he’s intended to have very strong telepathic skills, which is what lets him reach into the minds of beings in a plane very far away from him. interplanar travel isn’t his thing, but interplanar communication and projection is. basically he sits himself down and ‘meditates’ and reaches into the material plane, or maybe like. the border between the material plane and the plane of dreams? that detail is a bit of a mystery to me, i don’t exactly know how the plane of dreams works or how DREAMS work. it might make more sense for his fixation to be on that plane (and he’s definitely Extremely Interested in it regardless) but my argument is that the material plane is more alien to him and therefor more interesting, and the beings there are the ones actually doing the dreaming, and he has to dig around in the material plane if he wants to do any talking to people. anyway, reaches into the material planes to poke around at various minds, look for sleeping ones and try to access their dreams. either projects himself into it to chat and then consume the dream when he’s done or just eats it without talking if he’s more interested in food than conversation.

 i picture that when he’s in the Far Realm, the DC for the wisdom save that keeps him from entering or eating a dream isn’t very high, though potentially the roll is at disadvantage b/c sleeping. even if he can reach very far, the distance between the minds has to weaken him. he makes a lot of attempts while he’s hunting, and i imagine a failed attempt wakes the individual up. he just keeps going at it until he’s able to get at someone.

after the split, when he’s hunting in his nerfed state, he still has to sit down to ‘meditate’. he’s not as strong, but it’s obviously easier to reach minds when he’s actually in the material plane. definitely can’t reach EVERYWHERE in the plane still, or in the border between planes or whatever, so maybe there’s a distance limit to what dreams he can access? not fully sure there but that makes sense to me.

as i mentioned, he is incapable of projecting into dreams this way unless he actually uses a spell slot on the dream spell, should he have access to it. which is very annoying to him. but the upside is he can still eat dreams, and he doesn’t HAVE to project into dreams to talk to people here! silver lining! just frustrating that he should have MORE access to people and he really doesn’t.

his theory is that once he’s in the plane fully and merges, he’ll have his full power and reach. can reach anyone in the material plane with much more ease, can access dreams with more ease because he’s not reaching as far, can talk to people via dreams easily again. that was one draw for him re: coming to the material plane: easier access to food

OH as for what it’s like to have your dream eaten. definitely not fatal, but it... doesn’t feel GOOD. there might be some minor psychic damage that comes with it, and the victim absolutely is snapped awake after the dream is eaten. maybe with a lingering Bad feeling of some kind. that’s generally what i picture. it’s a confusing, unpleasant, and unsettling thing to go through, but you’re pretty much fine after.

again, trying to find a balance between creating the lore and letting haley have control of her universe. there’s probably two versions of zenith out there, one being the character that i’m playing and one being the character that zenith is within my full creative control. love just going wild with this dude, but also i want to be a good player! i’m already making a weird unique creature with this character and i try to be very conscious about not going too OP or anything with it. i want him to be balanced and not a pain to deal with as a DM, so i try very hard to keep his whole deal Reasonable and that’s one reason why i’m very open to making changes as requested fhkjdf he’s so much fun and the concept is fun to play with but i want to be reasonable and make sure everyone has fun!!

been thinking about it and... god, he really works better as a sorcerer than as a cleric. the way i created this boy is that i wanted to make a dhampir, and i saw the dhampir origin prompt about being an aspect of a greater being in another plane that grows stronger when it feeds and loved that. i combined that with the concept of ‘magic user whose patron is themself’, and picked cleric as the patron-based magic class. but as i actually get to know this kid and think about this stuff etc, cleric just doesn’t make sense. it’s a fun concept, but it’s not him. he can still pretend to be his own patron, but he doesn’t need to pretend to get his magic from the totally separate being of vol’gelmeth.

sorcerer makes more sense because he’s an inherently magical being; his magic doesn’t come from anyone else, he just IS magical. i’ve made another character sheet for zenith that’s an aberrant mind sorcerer, b/c that subclass feels obvious lol. i’d really like to switch him to a sorcerer, this makes so much more sense to me, though also we’ve already started CoS so i. probably can’t by this point, which is fine fhskdfj but again. one zenith that i’m playing with others, one that i’m playing with myself

shout out to the twilight cleric subclass though for giving me the galaxy theme with him!

please imagine... in his true form, zenith making sounds like the sounds you can hear in space... for some examples, black hole sounds, jupiter,  saturn, this weird bird noise from near jupiter which are apparently solar wave particles?, ganymede, etc. just search for space sounds lol. that general vibe, staticky and whooshing and heavy and alien. i don’t know what Deep Speech sounds like but i know when zenith talks in his true form those sounds overlay it, and he can make them independently as well. he feels like he’s so quiet when talking in his humanoid avatar. the space around his words is so empty. still likes the sound of his own voice, it’s just weird

i revealed this before, but while zenith obviously isn’t his real name, vol’gelmeth isn’t either! it’s the only name he’s given people, but his actual name is a secret. names have power and he likes to keep that little barrier up. i mean they’re all his ‘real’ name in a way, he sees them all as ‘his’, but y’know. not his TRUE name. not the one that he’d need to, say, summon himself.

i’m just realizing that bullets don’t 100% seem to work when you’re reading on the dash? at least the first post doesn’t seem to, the indents don’t show. which is annoying. it shows properly on my blog but i don’t know how many people view it that way. argh. oh well the organization is more for me, i just hope it’s still clear to other people

anyway i think i’m done for now, we’ll see if i have more later

reposting some meta i wrote about zenith on my dw specifically so i can reblog and add to it, b/c i like to keep things together. what’s under this cut is gonna be partly outdated b/c i’m tweaking some stuff in the reblog don’t worry about it. if you haven’t read it or plan to reread it i’d maybe recommend waiting until i reblog the additions so all the info is together. though also there’s a lot here because i got that wordy bitch disease so like kudos if you make it though any part of this at any point. okay yeah so everything after this paragraph is Older Content

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[darkwavevisionquest]

The Witching Hour: The Holy Mountain (1973)

Originally published at Casual Critic in July 2017.

Odds are, if you've got even a passing interest in weird movies, you'll probably have heard of The Holy Mountain, or perhaps the man who wrote, directed, and stars in it, the odd genius Alejandro Jodorowsky. This might be one of the ultimate weird movies, which is why I hope you'll understand my initial trepidation in actually writing this feature on it. I first saw The Holy Mountain a few years ago, but hadn't returned to it since. Nonetheless, it stayed with me. I knew I'd get around to it eventually here on The Witching Hour. Like the work of David Lynch, it was only a matter of time.

What to say about it, though? My first viewing, like many others, washed over me. I was blown away, yes, but I don't think I really took it all in, at least not on a conscious level. I needed time to process. I watched it again in preparation for this article, and it suddenly seemed to open to me. Like the best weird movies, the joy of watching is not in the incredulous "what the fuck?" reactions. The best weird movies are not impenetrable; they merely work on a different level, leaving logic behind in favour of a more symbolic route, one which, if you let it, can reach deep inside you and tug at you, summoning up feelings and thoughts that you barely have names for, things numinous and confounding.

This is The Holy Mountain.

Movies are elaborate lies. This is what's magical about them. They are collections of still images flashed in front of our eyes at twenty-four images per second, overlaid with words and sometimes music, unnaturally cut and framed just so. And yet, knowing all this, movies still work on us. They bring our emotions brimming to the surface, and they tease out empathy and sympathy. They can be transcendent experiences, transporting us into other worlds. However, at the end of the day, they are elaborate lies. A movie doesn't just spring out of nothingness. They are artifice. Engineered.

The Holy Mountain, despite its gonzo trappings and reputation for bizarre imagery, is a tightly controlled film. It is a careful, deft work of artifice. Every frame is carefully composed, every cut thought-out. This is Jodorowsky at the height of his cinematic powers, wielding the craft of film elegantly and with the utmost precision. When he first appears on screen, the actor-director walks with an exaggerated, ritual gait, mimicking the movements of the Japanese tea ceremony and the stylised martial arts master. The sets, brimming with colour and oddities, all have an otherworldly composure to them, a feeling that everything is in exactly the right place. Every symbol, every animal, each has its purpose. This is high artifice.

The Holy Mountain is about the tearing down of this artifice. It is about distillation, and it is about apocalypse in its original meaning: revelation. The film is an angry satire, aimed at everyone and everything, reveling in the contradictions and ugliness and absurdities of human life. This is, in part, a product of its time. The Holy Mountain is a counterculture film through-and-through, depicting a decadent society that the protagonists flee from through meditation and esoteric teachings. Hell, George Harrison was, at one point, going to play The Thief, one of the main characters, and rumours of acid being dropped during the filming of some scenes abound.

However, The Holy Mountain goes a step further, turning its satirical lens upon the counterculture itself, depicted herein as The Pantheon Bar, a bacchanalian garden of earthly delights where people dance on graves, and where a drug-addled man espouses the revelatory properties of LSD and mescaline. His pontifications are presented as short-sighted and meandering. He has come to the base of the mountain and, instead of ascending to the top and looking at the world with clear eyes, he chooses to stay here and fall in upon himself. This is the '70s, coming down from the high of the summer of love, caught in the hangover of Manson and overdose.

When they reach the summit of the titular mountain, the Alchemist's disciples find that the fabled men of the mountain, the immortals, do not exist. They are clothes, empty sack cloth. Enlightenment isn't reached by sitting around a table. Finally, as they sit at the table laughing at all of this, the film breaks the fourth wall, with Jodorowsky's Alchemist gleefully setting out the final revelation to his disciples: that they are all dreams and images, flickering across a silver screen inside a film. Jodorowsky confronts us with the truth. We are watching a film and, no matter how moved we are by it, no matter how important or relevant or masterful or resonant or beautiful it may be, we must remember that it is all one thing and one thing alone: it is artifice, just like most things.

This is not a nihilistic proclamation, but it is a necessary, even joyful one. Films are not reality, nor should they be. Films should be unnatural. They should be artifice. That's what makes them beautiful. It's what makes a lot of invented things beautiful. The presence of human minds at work behind it, of thinking, feeling, emotional beings. The Holy Mountain asks that we understand that stuff is stuff, that we are human whether we have certain things or not, that we must be comfortable with ourselves and with the knowledge of the fragility and constructed nature of this world, this strange and often grotesque place that we have made for ourselves and each other.

This is The Holy Mountain: we must be comfortable with artifice, but we must know its bounds, its limits, its ability to cause harm. We must be aware of its presence, lest we be co-opted by it. We must be willing to dig, to question, to pick up and discard as needed. We must see things for what they are, in all their beauty and ugliness, and we must be willing to laugh and thumb our noses at that which tries and fails to overtake us, that which deserves our ridicule.

Then again, it's just a movie.