#and so here in the middle we have to see the isolation--see the horror of it--unvarnished

[scribefindegil]

*reads Literally Just A Summary Of The Events Of Separation Arc and starts foaming at the mouth*

[ihaveforgortoomany]

The dichotomy of Greenlake and Highway 77: rambling.

(Just general thoughts on both horror patches - I will be discussing spoilers for 2.1 here, and uh 1.2's as well if anyone is worried about spoilers for a almost year old patch)

I will give credit to Bluepoch here, having the next horror patch take a darker tone in the form of the Western Horror in comparison to 1.2's slasher horror genre was very cool.

You can see the impression of 1.2 effect people's inital perception of 2.1 from the first trailer and poster.

"Oh maybe its gonna be like Jessica and this is an illusion and no one dies!" 🙃

The signs of this patch taking a more serious and darker turn did become obvious in the pv, a literal body, actual red blood, the music and framing of scenes in the pv aimed at this darker tone, having Kimberely here, after the impression she left in 2.0 as such a terrifying and powerful character to be absolutely terrified here also adds to the theme. Then you have Tuesday's character trailer, maybe by this point you think, "shes a little creepy like Isolde but not that bad. right?"

Then you play the actual story and I think Tuesday's character really does shine in "how crazy is she?" question slowly becoming more and more apparent until it becomes "how fucked up is she?".

Case and point:

With Jessica, the scary part about her was the extent she fully tended to keep Blonney, and rhe Greenlake gang there; plus her misunderstanding that "maybe people do not like to be subject to slasher horror style scenarios outside of the film screen". Jessica is very much harmless and really desires companionship after being isolated to the campsite for so long.

Tuesday? She is partially influenced by the tragdey that befell her prior to 2.1 (Ill finish her character story later), there is this active enjoyment and thrill she gets from her victims and fear, either from others or even herself when Argus threatens to shoot her.

Tuesday is scary how she actively enjoys the fears she instills in others, this balance between a gentle and caring maid vs the terrifying fear enjoying person we fully see by the end. Part of it comes down to the va, who as of this post is unknown but the way her voice balances between caring and sinister is amazing.

Even genre wise is fascinating: in terms of Slasher Horror 1.2 plays on the satirical and overused aspect of the genre, literally Horrorpedia embodies this overused tropes and predictability the genre has come be known for. Alot of the patch was about noticing these tropes and attempting to avoid them.

In contrast I think its safe to say Western Horror is much more scarier and arguably less well known horror: fear of the mysteries of open roads, small towns, cult activity, the strange motel in the middle of nowhere - the fear of the unknown is a stable of the Western Horror.

Summary - the contrast between the 1.2 and 2.1 patches is very fun, I like seeing a horror genre that got me into horror initially getting the spotlight here.

[the-voldsoy]

Alrighty it is almost the end of the year so, in no particular order, here are podcasts I recommend of the ones I've listened to this year! (let me tell you picking favourites for this was So hard) (Unfortunately I can't just do all of them because there are almost 50)

Hello From The Hallowoods: The world ended, but we're still here, and shit's weird. (Has made me cry; even the trees are queer; my comfort show<3)

Camp Here And There: Good morning campers! The time is 7:63AM and Cabin Magpie Moth has spontaneously combusted! Whichever one of you little woodworms can put it out first can come get a puffy sticker from me in the Nurses Cabin! (Is it a horror? Is it a comedy? I don't know, you'd have to check to be sure)

Wooden Overcoats: Funn Funerals used to be the only funeral parlor on the island. It isn't anymore. (Sitcom, the main characters are the most miserable wet cats you ever did see)

Re: Dracula: Maybe this year, they'll be okay. Maybe this year they'll all live. Maybe this year he won't go, and she'll be alright.

Magnus Protocol: TMA's louder, bolder, less serious younger sibling.

The Silt Verses: Oh boy. Let me tell you, you will look at crabs differently after this. (WET horror, genuinely the best pod I've ever heard)

Archive 81: Dan, a newly hired archivist, has to listen to and catalogue a set of old audio tapes. The tapes contain interviews conducted by someone Dan has never heard of. Dan is in an isolated bunker in the middle of the woods. Surely nothing will happen to our dear friend Dan. (What is it with archivists and getting snatched by The Horrors? Ignore the tv show it doesn't exist)

Red Valley: Just a couple of guys with an interest in research station Red Valley, whose focus was cryonics. It's completely defunct now. I wonder what happened. (Ethics? What's that?)

Woe.Begone: Some say it's about time-travel, some say it's about keeping yourself and those close to you alive, some say it's about online safety. All can agree on one point: What the fuck why are there cowboys now

Midnight Burger: Midnight Burger is a time-travelling, dimension-spanning diner. Dunno how it works or where it's going next. We open at six! (The episodes are an hour long minimum but it's worth it. Comedy sci-fi, lighthearted fun :)

Old Gods of Appalachia: The Appalachians are spooky y'all. (The narrator's voice is so comforting in this, it feels like campfire stories)

Dreamboy: Went into this pod being told it was made by the people who made WTNV and absolutely no other information. Let me tell you I did not expect the main character to tell us that he got a hard-on in the first episode. (The most sexually explicit pod I've listened to)

The White Vault: Nice little trip to Svalbard to check on the remote research station, surely nothing will go wrong :) (Holy Fucking Shit What Is That) (Recommend 1st season especially to The Thing (1982) enjoyers)

Camlann: Ever wished that you were apart of Welsh folklore or Arthurian legends? Or perhaps some of the last people left on Earth? No? Ah well, you'll pick it up soon enough. (Three idiots and a dog in Wales, fighting for their lives)

Breaker Whiskey: Imagine. Being the only person on earth. Just you. Just you, and someone on the radio. Just you, the radio, and a woman you absolutely do NOT have sexual tension with. (This one looks really long because it has 260+ episodes, but they're like 4 minutes long each so it's not really)

Ethics Town: Don't worry about it. (Cannot recommend enough, it is a mindfuck)

Tell No Tales: What if ghosts were a thing that could infest a place, like rats or roaches or mold? What if it was your job to exterminate them? And the million-pound question, do ghosts deserve rights? (I am waiting so so patiently for the rest of s2)

Remnants: You wake up in a place you recognise. You have always been there. You have no idea where you are. You see a stranger's life. You recognise them. You knew them once, you think. Discard or reshelve? You don't know what that means. It does not matter. Discard or reshelve, that is the question. (I am going insane over this pod)

Not Quite Dead: Vampires! Alfie is an overworked A&E nurse who does not have time for this shit. Unfortunately, he does not have a choice in this matter. (A really interesting take on vampirism, going into the biology. It is fascinating, and an exciting story)

Travelling Light: Space Quaker! Listen to the Traveller tell you about every new planet and civilisation they visit. Whattttt noooo they don't have a crush on one of their crew members what are you taaaalking abouttttt (Very comforting pod, beauty in the mundane in a way? But not mundane because yk. Aliens)

Someone Just Like You: Brilliant horror, just really well written. I don't even have words for it. So far there are only 6 episodes and the concepts/plots of each seem cheesy, but my GOD the execution.

The Bright Sessions: People with powers get therapy! Thank God, they need it so bad. (I love one particular antagonist so much, I need to put him in a microwave)

Poe: Evermore: It wasn't until I started this that I realised that Edgar Allen Poe would have had a Boston-ish accent. Reallyyy interesting story of his life, and I keep getting jumpscared by VAs I recognise. Faulkner Silt Verses what are you doing here.

Witherburn After School News: Your school radio host getting WAY more involved in the news than they should. Really hope they're still breathing. Love the folklore section though!

Before The Tone: Voicemails from someone who just got a job they probably shouldn't have. (Brilliant idea for the format, and great execution)

I Am In Eskew: What if you were trapped? What if you had a home, a wife and a child? What if they aren't real? Are you sure? Go and check. What if your city tried to kill you? What if it loved you very much, more than anyone else? (Horror but the narrator is the saddest wettest man you've ever heard)

Sherlock & Co: Modern day Sherlock Holmes, and John Watson is a true crime podcaster. Dear God I did not think it would be as compelling as it is.

[wylanzahn]

New-ish post, kinda posting this on different platforms and getting a general vibe check for some ideas I have. But basically this Halloween I want to actually do something for the TTRPG and Actualplay world (oh yeah I’m into those kinds of things). I want to try and get both players, GMs, and casual viewers alike something fun to look forward to this especially spooky season. I’ll probably talk a little more when we get closer to the actual season of scare-giving but just know that if you’re interested I’m still looking for people to join in!!

As my team and I’d first debut we’re going to try and do a two to four session actual play, which will probably be released in the weeks leading up to Halloween. We’ve had a couple good friend way in on the matter of “setting” but now I come to you fine folk. Mind you this is a horror campaign/arc so if…

Isn’t your thing, keep on a moving.

But without further ado here are a couple of the possible settings for our players, and myself, this coming espookee season…

1.) Somewhere off the coast of Florida, 1926 end of the first major housing boom in the state, a small island which calls back to the Spanish Empire, is Isla Boñyela, a small port made tourist location during the boom of disposable wealth in 1920s America. A small group of friends from the northeast tag along down for the perfect paradise vacation. Only to discover the island is much much older than anyone could have ever assumed. Whilst dealing with upstart gangsters, unnerving US soldiers, and the terrified locals they find something older than even undead conquistadors.

While I don’t have a working title, this is an old project in the running which I’ve had a few attempts at revamping over time. Its previous title was “perfect paradise vacation,” and runs on the Call of Cthulhu 7th Edition game. Anywho it’s a blast of fun with Caribbean lore, tone of anti-imperialism, and something dark lurking beneath the waves.

2.) 1950’s America, the nonexistent state of Mid-Atlantia (DMV coded) in a small suburban neighborhood where nothing goes wrong… it’s almost “All-Hallows-Eve” and little Johnny and Susie want nothing more than to trick or treat this year with all the big kids, Dad’s finally getting the big promotion at work, and Mom just got a new waffle iron! Sure everything is neat here in America. Heck you just got new neighbors! Newlyweds in fact from somewhere big and fancy, they sure aren’t like any of us in our simple town. But… and you can’t say exactly why but things are different. Or perhaps they’re all too the same? Everyday a repeat of ever other bland day that followed you over and over and over and over… and you could swear, while no one may listen to you there’s someone out there. Stalking you from outside your own home- or- perhaps, he’s just your friendly new neighbor welcoming you… to the end.

Ahhhhhh! I’ve also been working on this one for a sec and god writing it out does excite me. This is also a Call of Cthulhu game but modified/homebrewed to have a uniquely 1950s horror feel. This is definitely one of the more unique games I’ve written and am truly interested in seeing where it goes (even if we don’t choose it). This is for those who feel like isolation, fear of the unknown, fear from within, and liminal space horror comes best into play! So whadya say neighbor?

3.) The Enemy of My Enemy is My Friend, or How I Learned to Love Strahd, okay so this one is a lot less horror-y and falls much more under the comedic spooky category, just so yall know. Deep in the middle of Barovia, the ancient kingdom of Vampires, meets a council of Count Strahd von Zarovich's greatest commanders and lieutenants to hunt down Strahd's greatest enemy Rudolph van Richten and his party of heroes known as "The Grape-Smashers." Strahd's lieutenants have been gifted powers greater than any mere mortals, but are these gifts enough to stop Van Richten, or even enough to stop the personal ambitions of each other? Come find out in "How I Learned to Love Strahd."

Okay, as much as this may seem like a joke suggestion it cracks me up and I feel like it would be ill-advised of me to not at least mention it. In an era where "The Curse of Strahd," is well-overdone at this point, it's worth a take from an all evil "revenge story." Obviously this will be in Dungeons and Dragons 5th Edition, which, in my opinion, is really hard to use for horror, but this is a nice go-around. Come for the evil PCs, maybe a PvP battle or two, and a game of intrigue in the shadows of Barovia! All that and a buff Van Richten.

4.) Before Annapolis was ever called such it was known as Providence, a settlement of exiled Puritans in the Province of Maryland, but these early days were no easy set-up for the far-flung protestants... in the mid 1600s the English Civil War spilled out into their holdings across the waves as brother turned on brother, clan erasing clan, and something from the shores of the Old World would arrive in the New. When around every corner could be someone you've known your whole life, what's stopping them from hunting you in the depths of winter. All matters made worse when rumors of a witch begins circulating your small home.

Think "The VVitch" (2015) meets "A Field in England" (2013) meets Atun Shei's recent film "The Sudsbury Devil" (2023). It is the unexplored wilderness of early colonial Maryland, but the hateful warmongering that slowly builds that makes the horror and tension so clear. Unsure of what system we'll be using, but maybe the new Regency Cthulhu system.

5.) The Great Baltimore Fire of 1904 destroyed some 140 Acres of Baltimore proper... and in it's rubble awakened something far worse. But you and your fellow survivors are just trying to get by in the aftermath of the fire... only for something to call out, whether some strange magicks or perhaps just a sickness... but sickness doesn't even linger like this... it doesn't call to you...

Some more local history, aspiring from the actual Fire of 1904 things quickly devolve from there as rumors of a cult begin to spread along the streets of Rosland Park... a mysterious illness leaving even more dead... and the death of an eclectic professor. Definitely using the Call of Cthulhu 7th Edition for this one.

Aaaaaaaand that's it! Let me know what y'all think!

[airbendertendou]

you're so pretty it hurts ♡ arisu ryohei

synopsis ; arisu searches for usagi at a pool party, but finds an old friend instead.

content warnings ; alludes to sex / non-descriptive smut, sexual assault [and how it’s pushed away as jokes], virgin!reader, soft n sappy n sweet arisu ):

song inspo ; im yours by isabel larosa

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.

—— ♧ ♡ ♢ ♤ ——

Ever since he lost Karube and Chota, he’d been thinking of you constantly. Parts of Arisu regretted dropping out of college — that was the only way he could see you, after all. But, it got too intense too quick ; got too overwhelming and crushing in all of the worst ways. Arisu missed seeing you and your sweet good mornings ; your attempts of helping him during class and the way you’d consistently invite him out.

“Arisu?” Usagi’s voice comes over the walkie-talkie in his hand. Static hits next and he’s officially back to reality — his new reality. “Do you see anyone?”

“A few people here have those bracelets on,” he replies. Each game they got closer and closer to whatever the Beach is. “They’re on the move! I’ll follow behind!”

Usagi and Arisu meet at a bridge, overlooking a lit-up hotel. Arisu breathes out heavily as he thinks of his fallen friends and what they couldn’t accomplish. We made it, Karube, he thinks. Thanks to you, we made it to the Beach.

And then he was hit over the head.

—— ♧ ♡ ♢ ♤ ——

You’re walking to the pool when you see someone familiar. He’s looking around anxiously, frantic and watchful in the same way he would be before a test. His hair is messy and damp, a bruise or two forming on his face. Yet, you still know who he is. His name leaves your mouth in a whisper as you stand completely still in the middle of the pulsing crowd. “...Arisu.”

“Ryohei. It’s Ryohei for you.”

With a grin — and in remembrance of what he’d told you years ago — you shout, “Ryohei!”

His head snaps to your direction immediately, surprise flickering across his battered face before he’s running to you. Arisu is panting as he stands in front of you, eyeing your disheveled appearance. His eyes linger on your swim shorts and how they seem a little tighter than necessary before he snaps his gaze away with a blush. “What are you doing here, [name]?”

“Same as you,” you shrug. Gently, you tug your old friend to a more isolated area, your hand dropping to hold his as the eyes around you vanish. “How are you doing, Arisu? Are you okay?”

He’s scowling immediately as his free hand pinches your nose, wiggling your head side to side while it’s in his hold. “You call me Ryohei.”

You hum, failing to hold your smile at his familiar antics. Arisu’s face drops with his free hand, smile soothing into something sadder. “You’re avoiding my questions, Ryohei.”

Smiling half-heartedly. Arisu looks away from you briefly with pursed lips. “I’ll tell you later. Right now, I’m looking for a… friend.”

Acquaintance felt more accurate to what he and Usagi were — game partners even more accurate. You raise an eyebrow teasingly and he’s quick to shove those thoughts out of your head. “Really — friends.”

Usagi is the one who finds him, walking up to both of you curiously while she zips her jacket up. Arisu moves to stand beside you, hands still locked as they sway between your bodies. “This is [name]! We knew each other in the other world. This is Usagi — we’ve been pairing up during games.”

You nod, smiling her way and watching her own hesitant smile break through. The two talk about things you don’t bother to listen to, grabbing a drink instead as you look for anyone you know. Making sure your friends — a loose term in this world —are still living is a vital part of your own survival. You need to know you aren’t going through this alone ; need to see the horror and pain stuck on someone else’s face.

A tug on your left hand brings you back to the duo as you sip on your drink. Arisu nods to a few empty seats with his chin before he leads you there. Usagi goes off on her own for more questioning, seeing who has theories and what they are. Arisu turns to you and just looks for a bit, taken aback by the lights that bounce off of your skin.

The thoughts that have been weighing you down recently pop back up. It’s no coincidence, either ; if you were talking about this with anyone, of course it’d be with Arisu. You gulp down the rest of your drink and turn to him abruptly. “Will you do me a favor?”

Arisu raises an eyebrow, watching as the smile on your face turns tense and wary. He scoots his chair closer to yours, leaning his head down so that you’re forced to meet his eyes. “Everything okay?”

“Being in this world…” your smile falters, tears building in your eyes. Arisu stiffens at the sight of how upset you are, grabbing both of your hands so that they’re clenched in his. “I’ve realized how many people take advantage of the prospect of no rules. My body is no longer mine ; my survival doesn’t only mean playing these games.”

The shaggy-haired boy gulps, his grip on your hands tightening slightly. “No one has…”

You let out a harsh laugh. You squeeze his hands briefly and drop your gaze to the ground. Slowly, you tell Arisu of the gazes that hit your body at every second ; you tell him of the harmless jokes and rancid laughter that echoes in your head when you can’t sleep. Arisu frowns when you describe the solidifying moment for you — that day you bent over and a group of guys stood behind you, shifting and moving against your body and laughing it off when you became upset.

“The militants aren’t the worst people here,” you say. Arisu has stayed silent, but his rage and disgust is building up terrifyingly fast. “Anyone and everyone can and will take advantage of me. And no one will help ; everyone just looks the other way when they hear screaming. So—”

Arisu tilts his head further downward and it makes you giggle. He grins at the sound, straightening up when you do. “So?”

“I’m scared I’ll be taken advantage of eventually ; scared someone will force me to be with them and hurt me when I say no.” Your fears are common, he thinks ; completely rational and it makes him sick that you have to think this way. Your next sentence is said after heaving in a deep, anxious breath. “I want you to have sex with me. I want you to be the first one I’m that intimate with.” 

The world pauses. Arisu stares at you, blinking a few times before spitting out, “right now?”

It makes you cackle — how shocked and casual he sounds. Your head is thrown back in joy, eyes closed and lips curled up fully. Arisu pauses, gaze softening as he watches you. A grin is still painted on your lips as you finally sober up, taking his breath away once again. “Not right now, no. We’ll know when the time is right… That’s how the saying goes, right?”

“Something like that,” Arisu gulps. Usagi re-joins the two of you and it takes longer than it should for him to pry his attention from you. It reels in his head — over and over and over — I want you to be the first one that I’m intimate with. 

Arisu shivers, suddenly feeling like every eye is on him.

—— ♧ ♡ ♢ ♤ ——

He doesn’t even remember how he got here. But, Arisu stands in the middle of yet another pool party, glowering at every swimsuit-clad person he sees. Usagi has made friends with a girl named Asahi ; she dragged you away to meet her new acquaintances and Arisu was left to himself.

Somehow, he’s able to hear your laughter over the music that’s pounding and his head swivels that way immediately. The lights at the Beach are bouncing off of your smile, shimmering over your skin and forming a halo over your entire body. His breathing stops — Arisu feels his tongue go dry just at the sight of you.

Before he knows it, Arisu has fought through the crowd and is standing in front of you. Pausing your dancing to glance at him curiously is what sets him off. Arisu is leaning in towards you, eyes fully closed and lips puckered — prepared to kiss the absolute life out of you.

“I’m losing my mind,” Arisu whispers against your lips. Your heart is racing as his fingers trail to your cheek, cupping it gently and running his thumb along your jaw. “It isn’t fair that you look this pretty in such an awful world. It isn’t fair that you are completely in control even after what you asked from me.”

You sigh, brushing your nose against his, “who says I’m in control, hm?”

You end up in your room, giggles swallowed by Arisu’s tongue. He’s frantic as he kisses you ; always keeping a hand on your face as you stumble around. The bed meets the bend of your knees as Arisu pushes you to it gently, panting against your cheek as he struggles to catch his breath. You turn your head for your own air and pause at the swinging door.

“Ryohei—” Arisu seemingly whines against your cheek at the sound of his name. You giggle again, not resisting the urge you have to pepper his face in kisses. “Silly. What do we do about the door?”

“Door…?” It’s then that he remembers a rule about the Beach — no privacy. Arisu sighs, closing his eyes and sitting up. You follow suit, biting your bottom lip as you look around your scarce room for something to keep the door shut. His eyes drift to a pile of torn and bloodied clothes on the floor, lighting up with an idea. He points to the cloth with a grin, “do you need those?”

A half-hearted ‘rope’ is made with the clothing, tied from the door handle of the bathroom to the main door. Arisu stands triumphant, a smug smile on his face as he holds his fists on his hips. He turns to you, cheeks heating as he sees how swollen your lips are ; how out of breath from his kisses you still seem to be.

“I’m not that experienced,” Arisu finds himself saying. He scratches the back of his head sheepishly, sitting on the bed so he doesn’t have to face you. “With— things. You can ask someone else if you want.”

You’re shaking your head before he can finish his sentence. Sitting beside him, you hold his left hand with your right, squeezing it briefly. “I chose to ask you because I trust you, Ryohei. You make me feel safe.”

Arisu is tearing up before he can stop himself, sniffling as he smiles down at the floor. You’re pushed back softly as he hovers over you, a bright grin broadcasted just for you. A kiss to your left eye, then right ; one to your nose before they’re bridged to your cheeks. And a final, promising kiss to your lips.

“Okay,” he breathes, “okay. I’ve got you.”

—— ♧ ♡ ♢ ♤ ——

idk what this is lmao came to me in the middle of the night so, ♡ my forever taglist : @straysugzhpe​ <3 @star2fishmeg​ <3 if you’d like to b tagged / untagged let me know!! airbendertendou © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know. i only have this tumblr and an ao3 account under the same name.

[edosianorchids901]

Speak Gently, Spring

@sherlocktember2024 prompt - "Sussex"

“Watson, this fresh air shall be my demise.”

“It’s a lovely day, Holmes.”

Holmes sneezed, then glared at the field of flowers. He likes flowers on the whole, but in this density they were troubling him. “As I said…”

“Wonderful sunlight today. Not too many clouds at all.” Looking entirely too amused with this entire affair, Watson tilted his head back and studied the sky. “It’s incredible to be out in the country. You ought to pick up cases outside London more often.”

Holmes grunted. It was not that he entirely disliked the countryside, although he did still have a horror of the isolation. Sussex was a particularly beautiful area, especially in the spring, and he had thus far enjoyed seeing the colorful flowers, active bees, and rolling green hills.

But it was different from their usual surroundings, and he disliked being away from their rooms. Here, he did not have his violin, his books, his full collection of pipes.

He would be glad to complete this missing persons case and return to Baker Street, particularly as he suspected—and hoped—that the young woman in question had left of her own accord. That would be the ideal resolution, and would not require a longer stay in the country.

There was at least one benefit to this little trip to the countryside, aside from a not entirely uninteresting case. Watson was utterly delighted with the entire experience. He had been overjoyed from the time they boarded the train, and that enthusiasm had not dimmed no matter how much Holmes complained.

It was somewhat persuasive as to the virtues of the country in spring, persuasive enough that Holmes found himself only occasionally lodging token protests as they hiked across the hills and examined the area near the village for signs of trouble. There were no signs of trouble whatsoever, no footmarks that indicated resistance or even a second person at the stables, and so far no indication that the young lady’s horse had been overtaken.

“It is highly unlikely that there has been a kidnapping,” Holmes finally said, stooping to examine the hoofprints more closely. “She proceeded through here at a walk. Her horse was not lame, and there is no sign that she hesitated or considered turning back.”

“Then what happened to her?”

“I believe she most likely met someone down there, on the beach, and set sail for the Continent. Admittedly, this is speculation, but when one sees a hotheaded, adventurous young woman leave in the middle of the night after an argument in regard to whether she would get an education…” Holmes shrugged, and stood. “Nevertheless, we should proceed down the path, and see if there is further evidence on the shore itself.”

“I suppose we should.” Watson, for the first time all day, looked markedly unhappy.

Holmes paused, amused, and pointed at Watson with his cane. “Come now, Watson. Ordinarily, you are quite eager to be the dashing rescuer when there is a woman involved. I should think you would be eager to ensure her safety.”

“Well, of course I am.”

“And yet?”

Watson made a face, and then gave him a somewhat sheepish look. “I’m hungry, Holmes.”

Holmes let out a burst of laughter, then reached into his pocket. “Never fear, Watson. I suspected we should be out past lunch, and so I have brought a sandwich for you.”

“A sandwich?” Brow creased, Watson regarded the somewhat rumpled paper wrapping of the sandwich. It had not fared entirely well in Holmes’ pocket. “Well. Thank you, old man.”

“You are most welcome, my dear fellow.” Chuckling, Holmes clapped him on the arm, then set off at a brisk pace down the path. “Come, Watson! You may eat while we investigate.”

Watson sighed, but followed him. Holmes smiled. It was indeed a beautiful spring day in the country.

[whenua-and-moana]

Banaba

How the West Made an Island Unhabitable (and Consumed its People's Bones)

Banaba, aka Ocean Island, is a small island in Micronesia. It's legally part of Kiribati [kih-rih-bas] but geographically, culturally, and politically very distinct. At three hundred kilometres from its nearest neighbour, Banaba is one of the most isolated places on earth.

It is also among one of the most ecologically devastated.

In the 1900's, a UK / Aotearoa / Australian owned mining company dug up and shipped away huge amounts of Banaba's phosphate-rich soil for use as fertilizer. They grew rich and created Aotearoa's massive agricultural industry from literal stolen land.

More than just the physical earth was taken. Phosphate mining stripped the layers where Banabans had buried their dead for thousands of years. The dust of their bones fed the lands of the West, creating rich green fields that Banabans would never see the profits of.

When I say 'huge amounts' of earth; 90% of the island's surface was stripped away.

[Left image: an aerial view of Banaba showing a roughly oval island with no vegetation in the centre. The outside is ringed by a thin strip of forest. Right image: a photo of the edge of a mining area. In the background is a forest, but then the ground drops off sharply into irregular rocky terrain.]

The ancient sacred caves were destroyed. The island's only source of fresh water was irreversibly polluted and left it unusable to this day. The interior of Banaba became one great hollow of uneven rock, so full of dips and pillars that it is now almost completely impassable on foot. It was left a barren land.

Banaba is not the only Pacific island devastated by phosphate mining; most notably, its neighbour Nauru had 80% of its surface stripped away. But nowhere has been exploited to quite the same extent as Banaba.

There were further indignities and horrors inflicted on the Banaban people, including indescribable atrocities carried out by Japanese occupiers during WWII, and tbe Britain-led forceful relocation of Banabans to Rabi Island in Fiji. Many still live there today. Others have migrated away.

[Image: Banaban girls performing a traditional dance on Rabi Island.]

The traumatic experiences of Banabans, the mass murders and the separation from their ancestral land have all caused significant cultural loss. This includes the loss of the Banaban language.

Approximately three hundred Banabans have returned to their home island, surviving due to supplies shipped in every few months. The only freshwater source remains unusable and severe droughts strike Banaba every three to four years. Although a desalination plant exists there, the vulnerability of the island became all too clear in 2021 when the plant broke down in the middle of a drought. It took three months for repair equipment to arrive. During that time the residents had no fresh water. Their only food was fish because all of their crops had died. They survived by sucking the liquid from fish eyeballs.

And an Australian mining company wants to do it all again.

Part of the reason that people returned to Banaba, despite the difficulties of life there, was to protect it from further mining. But in August last year, the Australian mining company Centrex announced a plan to restart phosphate mining on Banaba. The plan has been paused due to protests from the Banaban people, but it could be restarted again at any time.

We cannot leave it here. If you want to do one small thing to help, you can sign this petition from Banaban community leaders to stop the proposed new phosphate mine. But more than that, Banabans have been campaigning for Australia and Aotearoa to fund ecological restoration projects, especially for the sacred caves that were once the island's source of fresh water. As Katerina Teiawa says:

"We need to move away from this same continuous narrative of ‘the poor Banaban people, who have no water, help them’ and move towards an approach that is actually finding a solution.

This whole thing is a series of crises. We can’t just keep telling the story of devastation and vulnerability over and over again. Where does the crisis end, if not with justice?"

[rainbow-femme]

When it comes to horror movies I’ve never really liked the ones that are “serial killer(s) pick a random house to torture the people inside” because I need a horror movie with a villain I can really get into and I just am not into the “oh we do it just for fun” villains

However, I do want a movie where you have a group of people doing that, going up to a house in the middle of nowhere that they found. No internet coverage, no cell coverage, totally isolated

Except the reason the family is out there is they’re doomsday preppers who have basically created their entire home for them to be able to fight off unwanted intruders

You got weapons hidden absolutely everywhere, secret tunnels and passageways, booby traps in the house. Because then I can watch the annoying trope I don’t like get turned around into a “I’m not stuck in here with you, you’re stuck in here with me” but with absolutely wild people who are weird as hell because they haven’t socialized in years and have only been practicing doomsday prepper versions of survival

“Don’t Breathe” did it a little with the concept of breaking into the wrong house, but the people breaking in are still the protagonists and they were only there to steal and it’s revealed at the end that he’s bad and so deserved it

And “The Purge” a bit with the houses designed for people to kill invaders but I don’t want to see rich people vs rich people in a mansion, I want that secluded farm house where you have nothing but field and trees for miles and I want Cousin Eddie from the National Lampoon movies and his wife and kids absolutely blasting these people who thought they were so badass and now are being picked off by a 12 year old with a 12 gauge shotgun

So yeah take bits from those two movies and mix it with “Tucker and Dale vs Evil”

[being-of-rain]

73 Yards is an episode of Doctor Who. Kinda.

They just put a little horror movie in the middle of the season! And I enjoyed it! I think a big reason I'm really enjoying this season is that it's taking some big swings, trying some unique stuff. Of course I wish we had 13 episodes, but I'd rather 8 episodes that get experimental with it than a hundred by-the-numbers stories (Sorry Nick Briggs). (Sorry for the drive-by at Nick Briggs, it's just hard to resist sometimes).

This episode certainly took advantage of the supernatural available to it, as I hoped this season would. And by playing into the rules of horror (and Doctor Who is allowed to be any genre it wants,) it left a lot up to interpretation, which was very interesting and had my girlfriend and I discussing it for a while after it ended. I thought it was drawing some connection between ancient curses and right-wing politics, which is fair. And watching Ruby weaponise her ancient Welsh curse to make the prime minister resign was very funny and satisfying. I think I saw people somewhere talk about how a common thread through a lot of the situations and horrors was isolation and ostracism, which is a thread I want to pull on next time I watch it. Which might not be soon, because (as I might expect from RTD,) this was a bit bleak for me to be a common rewatch. But I love seeing people's various theories on the episode, keep 'em coming.

As for Ruby... I hate to say it, but I don't think this episode really endeared her to me more than any other. She's still a great performance by Millie Gibson (the youngest-looking 40 year old on the planet, bless this show,) and she's still a very capable protagonist. But personally, I'm just not getting anything more interesting than that from her. I'm glad the show so far hasn't been putting a crazy amount of stress on the fact she's adopted, but it hasn't given her any issues to replace that. I've seen people read some interesting stuff into her after this episode, but I didn't get any of it from the episode itself. I didn't even really know what she was thinking while she was growing old alone; you can assume 'sad,' but the episode didn't pause to give me anything more than assumptions. I should move on instead of saying this every episode, but I was hoping this ep would change my mind. Maybe she's one of the rare companions I just won't really click with. Or maybe, like Ryan, she'll become my favourite just before she leaves. Then again, aren't we getting a second companion next season? I'd love a new dynamic.

What else? Kate! She was a pleasant surprise, being as helpful as ever (sorry Kate) and making this her 10th episode! Which feels weird to say about a character who's had like 48 episodes of her own spin-off audio show. Oh but you know what else is weird to say? Kate's line "I think this timeline might be suspended along your event." What are you talking about Kate?? How would you even know that?! I assume the line's there to future-proof the episode against later Dr Who plots interfering with this one, but since when does Dr Who care about that. The line feels so out-of-place and meta (as well as kind of spoiling the ending by immediately making me think 'oh so this whole timeline is going to get undone then,') that I think they shouldn't have bothered.

Anything else to say? It felt a little weird that the episode takes a stand against the stereotype of rural Welsh people being isolated and insular by having a bunch of rural Welsh people be cruel to a nice person just because she's an outsider. Oh and they acknowledged Susan Twist's appearance in each episode then, I'm curious what that will turn into.

Speaking of season mysteries, I keep seeing the fan-theory 'they're in a TV show' turn up everywhere online. Which is a cool idea that Dr Who could pull off, but I've yet to see a single piece of convincing evidence for it. Keep coming up with bizarre and unsupported theories Who fans, don't ever change.

Oh and here's a really niche and petty complaint! I wish the show would stop using the phrase 'perception filter'. I think when it was first used, in series 3 I think, it was about something relatively specific, technology that Time Lords use to make something not draw attention (unless attention is drawn to it). But since then the phrase has been rolled out for shape-changing, invisibility, natural abilities as well as technology by any species under the suns, it can affect your memories, and hey now magic Welsh curses use it too. Personally, I think it's lost all meaning and feels a lot more like cheap and lazy writing than worldbuilding.

Okay! Those thoughts turned into me saying I loved the episode then listed a bunch of very petty complaints. But I did love it! More magic please. Maybe slightly happier one.

I'm not sure there's anything in the second half of this season I'm really hyped for, but after enjoying the first half a lot, I'm curious what'll turn up!

[brick-van-dyke]

Also, okay. This is going to be a bit, or VERY, controversial right now and maybe it's a bit much to think about in light of the dread many are feeling...

And yet, there's so much power in understanding how to become fearless in the face of persecution. It's something we're all capable of, but something we don't realise when we're isolated (and I don't simply mean socially, but in terms of having a solid community that will literally and physically protect you).

So, here's a story for all of you of how I became unafraid and how, I hope, you may find a way to break through this dread like I did.

Look. As a transgender person in the middle of transition, who saw the Florida genocide, and yes they were laws constituting a genocide in he eyes of international law towards transgender people in that state and that led to immense violence towards us, all while Biden was in? I... personally just began to feel numb towards every politician or anyone else anymore because they all very evidently wanted/ want us dead. Maybe this comes from a place of ignorance as an Australian queer who doesn't fully comprehend the nuances of state powers versus the president's ability to prevent genocides within their own country, or who has seen the worsening of how we're treated both here and in the US by those who pretend to be our allies only to turn around and support bills aimed at eradicating us. Yet, regardless, I just can't move past this block where I just no longer can only fear Trump, because Biden already made me fear him and every single other politician because we have been dying this whole fucking time over and over and over while people forgot our names the minute they stopped trending. I became so tired by the mass persecution trans people have been facing for so long that I couldn't only feel dread for Trump, because I continued beyond him and people forgot that we were dying before him. I'm numb and only have the desire to rebel against the whole damn system. It's only pushed me further and further into realising I want to eradicate any ability for any people like this to be able to enforce these laws and do nothing in he face of the violence we face every single day. And, more than anything right now, I just cannot fathom how it is possible to see all those years upon years of bigotry, both before and after Trump, and see democrats as allies. All the while they are not only physically endorsing Trump's policies in the context of law, but have had the audacity to claim they don't do so and believe the opposite on camera. It infuriates me and I think it's important to recognise the exhaustion of trans people amidst all of this while we think about the genuine threat of Trump, yet forget the horrors of every other politician who will still enforce Trump's policies while denying they do.

I just can't be scared of Trump alone and hold any hope in other politicians anymore because my greatest fear of "seeing yet another genocide of queer people" was realised over and over after 2020 Biden was in and I now have to acknowledge that, no, democrats are very okay with not intervening in or preventing a genocide against people like me, if not even actively agreeing with it while crying crocodile ears, saying they care so much and morn is while they vote against us in the senate and in state elections. Within that realisation, there was this dread; the understanding that it actually will be the same result for us in the end no matter what a politician says because they'll endorse the other side behind the scenes and that is scary. I spent a long time from 2020 onwards being afraid because the policies Trump introduced in 2016 were not fixed, because I kept seeing that apathy from the democrats as worse and worse policies continued to be implemented even though Trump as supposed to be fine; because I felt nothing changed when Biden was in at all. And this was all even before Florida, though that was the final nail in the coffin where I completely realised how much democrats will actively support our demise and then swear up and down they Won't do that while actively doing that in pratice.

And, now, seeing the imperialist genocide in Palestine and Palestinians internationally having this same dread as me of realising they, too, are the price democrats are willing to pay while dealing on the same stage of people like Trump... Yeah, that shit hurts. But you know what else I learnt in that? The people who suffer the same prosecution from the nation(s) that oppress you will have your back; that community can be something that destroys fascism. Our shared existence has power, one I didn't have in 2016, 2020 or 2023 when people like me dying in the news was just, y'know, the news again and everyone would forget the names of the trans women lynched. Because I know how little trans people mattered to those in power when I was alone, but when I found other people willing to create that change with us? To fight alongside us and protect us? It changed things. I stopped feeling afraid.

I began to speak with indigenous rights advocates in Australia and the US, an I realised I was not alone in feeling like every single politician would sign our death warrant for the right price. I found a community that, irrespective of who was in and what happened in policy, would always protest and, if need be, physically protect me from those policies being enacted. I realised I wasn't alone.

The start may begin with a dress so deep that you feel all motivation to live leave you. But when you realise how many are willing to battle, tooth, nail, pepper spray and all to defend you and keep you safe? When you form those communities where you know you will be protected and you meet people you would rather die than not protect? When you see people from every walk of life fight against the same thing for the sake of all of us? You learn confidence in that and you find the dread ceases. In its place, you feel a warm, burning hope that won't leave until you and this like and unlike yourself are free from all persecution.

[ailius-suffers-through-art]

An original story i wrote for my english class way back when. It's dark (like all of my original fiction for SOME FUCKING REASON????? i guess im an angst connoisseur......???) so please heed the tags before reading to the end!!

i find nuclear power so ungodly interesting so its a damn shame i couldn't use it here. coal power plants generally use the same system minus the radioactive fuel though so i think its worthy of a mention.

reader beware, but please enjoy

Title: 17/11/██

-----

I don’t know how I should start this. Does it even matter at this point?

I’m not sure what else I can do. The Walls scare me and I want to go home.

I guess I should start at the beginning if this is going to be my last work.

If anyone will ever read this in the first place;

This whole situation, the horror I’m trapped in right now, all of this is my brother’s fault. We had been sneaking out to meet our girlfriends at the time, Oh god marie, I’m so sorry. I hope I will be alive to see you again. and decided it might be fun to have a test of courage in the abandoned power plant just a stretch into the forest by our meeting place. Which twin had the fortitude to explore the old building, we wondered. I was certain it had to be me– though Dallas thought otherwise and was confident in his strength of mind. It was an amateur writer versus a “detective in training”, so he likes to call himself. If my brother were here, I wonder how sane he would be able to stay? Perhaps I, myself, have stumbled upon the true test of courage in his absence. Even despite our disagreement I couldn’t wish this fate on him or on anyone, really.

Unknowing of what awaited us, we threw ourselves into the dark with gusto.

We began our journey in the metal cylinder’s room. Small windows near the ceiling let in the moonlight and hinted at the size of the room, but nothing could prepare us for the sheer scale of it. Our flashlights darted around the wide open space, and we could hear the echo of our footsteps as we explored. In the middle of this expanse, our lights hit a massive enclosed structure– the sides metallic and rusted.

“You should peek inside. There may be a monster waiting for you to come give it a kiss!” I teased my brother, knocking on the loose door. He laughed alongside me and agreed, pushing it open though his hands shook. As his flashlight lit up that small room, we saw the titular device I have named the room after. Forgive me for my ignorance as to the proper names for many of these locations and devices. I’m not somewhere where I could access this information– even if I wished to. It was a grand cylinder with lines engraved down the sides, stretching across several of those enclosings. This machine, bizarre yet harmless as it was, seemed to frighten my brother and so he quickly shoved the door closed again.

“Not to worry,” he joked– trying to cover up the way his eyes shook, “I gave that monster quite the smooch. She enjoyed it well.”

The air got colder the deeper we descended. Each hallway we traversed was lined with hundreds of pipes, trailing off into the darkness as our light was swallowed by the distance. The more my brother shivered, the more confident I became about my superiority in this little contest of ours. I was so sure of myself that I ignored the warning signs; the shifting beneath the ground, the dread slithering round and round those everlasting hallways.

At last, we reached the basement. The air was silent as death, the rest of life cut away from those isolated depths like an amputated limb. It was so quiet I felt as if I could hear a breath from a mile away. My brother stopped us there, grabbing me by the shoulders with his clammy palms.

“We can’t continue. Something’s… not well with this place.” he told me earnestly, but my ignorance was boundless. I laughed, spittle flying into the damp air,

“You’re quitting already? So much for that detective work, then?” Even now I can clearly remember the expression he made; it’s burned into my mind with all the clarity of a photograph. The furrow of his brows, the disbelief that bloomed across his face as he realized my foolishness, the frustration he must have felt, I understand it all clearly now. He shook me, clenching my shoulders tighter than he ever had before.

“You must be joking! Can’t you feel it? Everything feels wrong. This entire building is poisoned!” Dallas’ voice cracked harshly as he spoke with all the fervor of a wild animal.

All my blinded eyes could comprehend at that moment, however, was a coward.

In my folly I only saw the cornered dog, not the shadow looming over it.

“If you’re so scared you can run on back to your girl. Tell her your brother’s infallible will isn’t to be trifled with.” I had taunted.

“That’s not the point! God, it’s always the smartass with you, isn’t it? Think outside of your bloated ego for one second, for heaven’s sake.” he cried.

“If you want to leave, then just leave! I won’t stop you.”

Finally, he exploded.

“You arrogant prick! Fine, see what I care if you get yourself killed. Have fun with that courage of yours when you’re dead.” He shouted, turning around and marching away.

“Fine by me!” I’d called after him, before I was alone again in the silent dark.

Harumphing, my anger fueled me to plunge deeper into the basement. It was harder to face alone than with my brother.

The pipes looked like worms burrowing into the flesh of the building. At once I came across what seemed to be a shallow pool of water, stretching endlessly into that room.

My self-righteousness drained away by the cold, I kicked at the water sullenly. The water was warm.

Warmer than anything else in that chilly, dilapidated horrorshow. My instincts, once dormant, now awakened violently to the inherent evil of that place and sent me reeling backwards. All the signs had hit me at once. I had only understood the true nature of my situation when I was already in the mouth of the beast. Something reached out from that water and grasped my leg, and then I knew nothing.

When I awoke, I was here. I will attempt to describe this hell I am stuck in, though I feel my words will lack the depth of color to make you understand.

I woke up on a warm smooth surface, the heat of the room was quite pleasant in comparison to the freezing world I had left behind. The room was pitch black, so I felt my way across the room. Wall to wall, edge to edge, the walls were filled with warmth and the surface was without a scratch. The floor pulsated with an odd familiar rhythm, and as I searched for an exit I found myself enclosed within those six walls. A glass box with no escape. Whilst I fumbled around in the dark, my foot discovered my only other company, a pen and a stack of papers. As my eyes slowly adjusted to the dark, I finally understood where I was trapped, or to be exact, what I was trapped in. The first thing I noticed were the eyes. Hundreds of eyes, all staring at me from outside that glass box. Second, it was the viscera pressed against every single wall, pulsating to the rhythm of a heartbeat. Hair was curled within that flesh, ingrown and putrid. Lastly, I noticed the teeth, barely attached to the squishy meat they were embedded in, surrounding cavernous tunnels that breathed against my enclosure.

I nearly threw up. Once my realization had passed, I tried to use the paper to cover up those horrible sights– to stop those disgusting eyes from watching me. No matter how much paper I used, though, it never seemed to run out. A boon, I suppose, from the one who trapped me in this infernal purgatory. I use that pen and paper to write to you now, if anyone will read this at all. This cage of mine, or perhaps I should call it my last line of defense as without it I don’t know what the creature outside would do to me, contains finite air. I only have so long before I will run out. I can only hope someone will rescue me before that happens. Maybe an early death will save me from going well and truly insane here.

I’m scared.

I don’t want to die.

I’m sorry, Dallas.

Please come save me soon.

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

This letter was recovered next to the emaciated corpse of ████ ███, a young man who had gone missing two months prior. His brother, Dallas ███, had reported the disappearance the day of, dated 17/11/ ██. The police had searched the ████ coal power plant that night but no one was found. Recently, people complained of a foul smell coming from within the power plant and the place was excavated. This was when the body was discovered alongside the papers. These have been transcribed as accurately as possible for posterity.

[justatiredghost]

No Freedom from Knowing ch13

The general mistrust of magic as well as dangerous people in his past kept Jonathan Sims isolated, hidden away where he hoped he might finally be safe. Until he met someone who might be worth shattering that peace for.

-

While it was a relief to put another small town, and the dangers it contained, behind them, John had to admit that he was a bit disappointed to pass up another opportunity to sleep in a proper bed. They were still managing to keep their spirits up, though. They’d managed to stop at the market and stock up on fresh ingredients without any trouble, and Martin was excitedly discussing what he could make with it all, and it was making John so damned hungry. 

“You’d better stop,” John said. “Otherwise I might insist we set up camp right here in the middle of the road so you can start cooking immediately.”

“I wouldn’t be able to make half of this without the pots and pans I picked up at the last town. Any more jabs you’d like to make about that?” Martin asked teasingly. “I believe you said I was practically carrying an entire kitchen on my back.”

“I still think it’s a bit excessive, but I’m certainly happy to take advantage now that we have all of it.”

“I have all it,” Martin corrected, looking smug. “What is this ‘we?’”

“Does this mean you aren’t going to share dinner?” John asked in mock horror. 

“We’ll see.”

“This is torture,” John laughed. “You are literally torturing me right now.”

“It’s nice to know you enjoy my cooking, at least,” Martin said, giving in, his smile going soft. John nearly tripped at the sight, feeling his face burning, and he quickly turned away, failing to hide his own fond smile as he gazed out over the road ahead of them. 

One thing they didn’t see often were guards patrolling the roads. Other travelers, sure, but very rarely guards. So when they spotted one up ahead on the road, they both fell silent in mutual discomfort. John tried to speed up so they could pass him as quickly as possible, but he was still recovering from his injuries and his sore leg was slowing him down.

“Evening,” the guard said the moment he was within earshot and John and Martin both sighed. It appeared they weren’t going to be getting out of this as quickly as they’d hoped. “We’ve heard reports of magic users in the area.”

“Well, thank you for keeping the roads safe for us,” Martin said cheerily.

John was a bit envious, he was bad at lying at the best of times, but particularly so now that there were additional reasons the guard might be looking for them. They hadn’t actually had any money and had had to rely on Martin’s ability to turn invisible to acquire rations so they wouldn’t starve. He just did his best not to look guilty. 

“Then I’m sure you won’t mind if I search your belongings,” the guard said, stopping before them in the middle of the road, looking casual despite blocking the path. “Standard procedure, you understand.”

“Of course, of course.” 

Surely the guard couldn’t have heard about their petty thievery already. They’d just left town and the guard was coming in the opposite direction. But then, if they were looking for evidence of witchcraft, John had no idea what that would even look like. A note that said, ‘I can cast dangerous magics,’ written on it perhaps? 

He felt Martin take his arm, squeezing gently, and he realized there must be something else going on that he’d failed to notice. The guard didn’t exactly seem in a hurry to get on with his request and continued to stand there even as Martin removed his pack. 

“You know, your friend here isn’t looking so good.” The guard smacked John on the shoulder just a little too hard to be a friendly pat, causing him to stumble slightly. He felt Martin tense beside him. 

“Well, it has been one hell of a week,” John replied, not sure what else he was supposed to say at that. He needed to say something, though, because he could see the tight outline of Martin’s jaw, but this really wasn’t worth making a scene over. 

“My point is,” the guard continued. “I’m sure you’re both in a hurry to get where you’re going. Perhaps you have something to donate to show you are both upstanding citizens so we can all move on with our days.”

Ah, there it was. He was trying to extort them. 

“No,” Martin said indignantly as he stepped forward and John could see the moment the guard’s false smile fell away to annoyance. “We don’t have any money, and we certainly aren’t paying to be allowed to walk down the road in peace. What do you think—“

It happened so quickly. With Martin stepping into the guard’s space, probably to block him from taking another swing at John, the guard’s hand fell to the hilt of his sword with a sneer and John— panicked. 

Had he been thinking rationally, he would have reasoned that a proper fight was unlikely to break out. This guard was likely looking for easy money, not an outright battle. Besides, Martin could take care of himself. He was strong, and if necessary, he could simply vanish the two of them to escape. But there was no logic in John’s visceral reaction. 

Acute fear spiked through him like a lance as he was overwhelmed with memories of every other time someone had looked at John with such contempt. Sometimes it was simply followed by the pain of rejection, that was fine, he was used to it, but too often it was followed by a deep visceral fear for his life as they took their rage and their hatred out of his flesh. The physical injuries weren’t even the worst of it, and the realization that Martin was in real danger of being a victim of it, too, did something to John. 

He had let himself go through unimaginable pain, because he couldn’t fight back, couldn’t risk lashing out with his magic and hurting or killing someone. But Martin? He couldn’t see him go through that same pain, he would do anything to spare him that, so he reached deep, and the first thing he thought of was something Elias had done. He shouldn’t have, he knew he shouldn’t, but it was already too late. 

“Ceaseless Watcher, turn your gaze upon this wretched thing—“ 

The words reverberated through the air, and John had hardly registered what he was doing before it was done. The words were foul as they clawed their way up his throat, burning his tongue and turning his stomach in disgust, but there was no stopping it as he turned the full force of the Eye on the man, raked it through his mind and flayed him apart from the inside. His scream was strangled, cut off before it had hardly begun, and he was dead before he even hit the ground. 

John’s ears were ringing, everything narrowing down to this horrible moment, all of his focus on what he had just done. He couldn’t look away or move, he could barely think. It took him a moment to remember Martin was there, let alone register that he was speaking to him and his stomach dropped, because he had witnessed all of that. 

“John? John, I need you to look at me,” Martin said, trying to turn his face away from the gruesome sight, to get his focus so he’d stop looking at the blood pouring from the dead guard’s ears, eyes, nose, and mouth. 

“I-I-I killed him,” John stuttered, his entire body now filling with pure panic, the kind that had nowhere to go, because there was no going back, there was no fixing this. He had just caused this man unimaginable pain before he had ended his life. 

Martin had to place himself squarely between John and the form on the ground, holding his face in his hands so he could only look at him. 

“I need you to breathe, okay?” Martin said. 

“No, no, I can’t— I didn’t—“ 

John flinched back from the touch, from Martin, before turning and sprinting away into the forest. Bile rose in the back of his throat and he thought he might be sick. He didn’t want to be seen, shame and revulsion didn’t come close to describing how he felt in this moment and he didn’t want to see it reflected in anyone else’s eyes. Especially not Martin‘s. 

Martin shouldn’t have to touch him, and certainly shouldn’t have to comfort him. He truly was becoming a monster. He had done the one thing that Elias had done that had always disturbed him beyond belief, and now he was no better than him. 

He remembered back to when he thought everything was so simple, a clear divide between human and monster, good and evil. He’d been so sure Jurgen Leitner, the man he blamed for his first run-in with the supernatural, was a source of evil. Then he had been forced to accept the fact that he had just been a sad old man. 

Elias had killed him in front of John, murdered him to send a message. Leitner’s death was on both of their hands, and John had to confront the realization that even he hadn’t deserved what had happened to him. No human did. 

What made someone evil? What made someone monstrous and no longer human? He was fairly sure Elias was too far gone, but what about himself? At what point did he become deserving of such a horrific death? Was he already there, now that he had crossed this line? 

He tripped on a root and fell, remaining where he’d fallen, unable to muster the strength to stand again as he trembled, curling in on himself. Honestly, he was surprised he’d made it this far. He’d hardly been using his cane and his leg burned in agony, but that hardly mattered.  

Had Elias enjoyed killing Leitner? Had he started off telling himself he was doing what he had to in order to survive, to protect himself and those he cared about? Would telling himself that now lead to John eventually becoming like him? He didn’t know, but he was afraid. He was always so afraid. And the worst part was he felt invigorated from the murder.

He had started all of this by surviving off of the suffering of others. He had gone on doing it for far too long. It was so easy to make excuses, to turn a blind eye. But when he finally reached the point where he couldn’t be blind any longer, he’d made his choice. He didn’t want to be like Elias. 

But maybe it had already been too late. Maybe he was already too far gone. He thought losing his humanity would be a sudden thing, a shift where he stopped caring about anyone and anything, a tether being snapped that would unleash his violence and his magic on the world, but maybe it had happened so gradually he’d never noticed.

And what about Martin? Would this be the thing that made him realize how truly terrible magic could be? The thing that made him realize John wasn’t worth any of this? Would he hate him for dragging him into this world of horror and death? 

“John?” He heard Martin calling his name, but shuddered as the tone shifted to relief as he spotted him. “John!”

He trusted Martin, of course he did, but for a wild moment he wondered if he was going to die, if he had proven himself to be so far gone that even Martin might think he deserved death, and he flinched in on himself, curling tighter into the fetal position. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I am so sorry,” he said, begged. As if he deserved to beg. But for what? Forgiveness? For Martin not to hate him? He certainly wouldn’t beg for his life. 

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay,” Martin said, dropping to his knees beside him, and somehow his gentle understanding hurt so much more. Couldn’t he see that nothing would ever be okay again?

“Please don’t touch me,” he said, because he didn’t want to stain Martin anymore than he already had. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Martin said, his voice still so soft it made his chest ache. “I won’t hurt you. I won’t touch.”

John wanted to cry because even Martin knew he couldn’t stand the possibility of being hurt again, even though Martin had never done anything to make him think he would. He didn’t deserve this. 

“No! I— you saw what I did to him. I killed him— I tore him apart. It was horrible.”

”John, slow down, breathe.”

“I am so, so sorry. I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry.”

“He was threatening us,” Martin said, and John didn’t understand why he was defending him. 

“It doesn’t matter! He was a person, and I just—“

“Hey, breathe, okay? Just try to breathe.”

“I’m a monster,” John said, and he wanted to laugh at Martin’s concern if he only had the strength. “Surely you can see that now.”

“Are you calling me a monster then, too?” Martin asked, and how could he say that and remain so calm?

“No, of course not,” John said quickly, finally turning to look at him. “But you didn’t do— that to anyone.”

“I did, to Elias. And I’m going to be honest, if someone had pulled a sword on you, I probably would have done it again.”

“I’m just—“ John began. He wanted to point out that Elias hardly counted, but he didn’t think Martin would accept that. ”What if, what if I’m already too far gone?“

“The fact that you’re worrying about it proves that you’re not.”

“Why?” John asked, almost desperately. “Why are you so determined to reassure me?”

“Because I know you,” Martin said, and he sounded so sure, John desperately wished he was right. 

A horrible thought struck him. Had he manipulated Martin in some way? By showing him everything he felt for Martin when the Lonely tried to take him, everything he’d been through, had he tainted his opinion? Had he forced him to see humanity where there was none? 

Suddenly, Martin surged forward and John simply closed his eyes, going limp. He knew Martin, trusted him completely, and, even in his fear-stricken state, knew he would never hurt him. Even if Martin had wanted to, John would never, could never, bring himself to lash out against him, even if he thought he was doing it in self defense. If he had lost his humanity, at least there was enough of him left to know that he would never hurt Martin.

He didn’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t for Martin to cover him with his body, one arm wrapping protectively over his head, using himself as a shield, eyes screwed up tight as he concentrated. Even though Martin was doing his best not to crush him, the weight still caused a horrible panic to bubble up inside him at being restrained. He did his best to choke it down, reminding himself over and over that this was Martin. 

He looked around in confusion, trying to figure out what was going on, when he heard it— footsteps. Someone was approaching. The world around him shimmered and it was as if the air around them was thickening, and he knew no one could see them. 

“No sign of anyone over here,” the figure yelled, voice distorted through whatever Martin was doing to hide them, and then they were alone in the woods again. 

They were quiet for a long moment, making sure there was no one in earshot, before Martin quickly moved off of him. John was breathing heavily, trying to smother his panic, but he knew he had to be trembling, looking up at Martin with big eyes. And he hated it, because he saw how heartbroken it made Martin. 

“Sorry, sorry,” he said. “It’s okay, we’re safe. We can stay here as long as you need.”

John nodded distantly and just tied to breath, drawing his knees up to his chest and burying his face in his arms. Despite everything, Martin had protected him. More than that, he had shielded him with his body. John had never done anything to deserve that kind of devotion. 

“What do I do?” he asked, because maybe Martin could at least tell him how to earn back his approval. It felt like he needed to, but he knew Martin would disagree.

“Nothing,” Martin said, simply, and John finally lifted his head to look at him in disbelief. “Sure, I’d rather neither of us have to kill, but I would still do it to protect you. My opinion of you hasn’t changed, if that’s what you’re worried about. But it seems like your opinion of yourself has.” 

Martin was obviously looking at him in concern, but not because he feared for his own life, as if John might finally lose it. No, he was simply worried for John. And John didn’t know what to do. It didn’t feel right to believe it was all as simple as that. And he was so frustrated, because he knew Martin could tell his attempt to protect him had increased his panic, but that shouldn’t have been what Martin was worried about. 

John didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve any of this. 

“You’re not afraid I’ll hurt you?” he asked.

“Of course not,” Martin replied, as if it really was that simple

“I don’t want to hurt anyone,” John said, and he hoped it was true, hoped it would always be true, but not wanting to and not doing it were two very different things. His entire life existed as an example of how poorly he handled temptation. 

“I know,” Martin said, and there was just so much trust there.

John nodded, feeling pathetic. He shouldn’t be asking for reassurances from Martin, it wasn’t fair of him. He buried his face in his arms once again, wishing he could disappear, wishing he could rewrite time, make different choices, but it was far too late for that. He was vaguely aware of Martin moving around and felt a blanket drape over his shoulders, but he couldn’t bring himself to look up.

[adamwatchesmovies]

House of Spoils (2024)

House of Spoils is labeled as a supernatural horror film. Unnatural events take place, there are scary moments throughout but the conclusion recontextualizes so much of what we saw and is so tonally different from what came before that the label feels inaccurate. I’m not sure if a warning that this does not go the way you expect it to will make things more palatable for the audience but I’m going to try anyway.

Elena (Ariana DeBose) leaves her position as the sous chef in Marcello’s kitchen (he’s played by Marton Csokas) to open a new fine-dining restaurant in a remote location in the countryside. Her first efforts prove fruitless – all of the food spoils immediately. In a desperate attempt to meet the deadline imposed by her patron, Andres (Arian Moayed), she begins harvesting ingredients from the abandoned garden next door: a selection of strange plants the locals say was catered by a witch.

The film begins with a flashback to some time ago. Weird, ominous chants are whispered around a fire while a woman is strapped down and fed a strange little cake etched with a symbol. The mood’s been set. You know those lines mean something. The seemingly innocuous things happening to Elena confirm that by settling down in this area, she’s set herself up for trouble. The food that goes moldy instantly, the neverending bugs and the ghostly visions are not stress-induced; there’s something evil here. It gets you excited the way a good horror movie gets you excited. Our heroine is alone, she’s isolated and desperate. You admire her determination to open up her own business and move out from under the shadow of Andres, who isn’t terrible as far as head chefs go… but does make you wonder why ANYONE would want to work in fine-dining if the environment is that stressful and that toxic. The film successfully showcases “scary” aspects of the business too; the way a single critic can just throw your entire menu into the fire, how a single missing ingredient can derail an entire evening and the challenge of having to come up with a revolutionary menu out of thin air.

Another aspect of this film written and directed by Bridget Savage Cole & Danielle Krudy that’s intriguing is the food. In most dark food/restaurant movies, dishes look simultaneously delicious and grotesque to confirm the malicious environment. As Andres puts it when he sees what Elena and her appointed sous-chef, Lucia (Barbie Ferreira) have cooked up, his stew looks like it's been scraped off of a shoe. It's unappetizing. You know it’s a hint that what he's eating has a sinister origin. Only a spell could convince someone to take a bite.

The film’s scariest moment comes in a claustrophobic scene where Elena, locked in the restaurant cellar, is forced to escape through a tunnel that leads to a makeshift tomb. From there… any horror elements in the film vanish. We learn that while the garden Elena has been picking from was tended to by a sorceress… she was a good witch who healed people. So if there was no evil this whole time, why was the building's previous tenant driven to horrifying madness? Why does the witch’s ghost show up in the middle of the night to terrify Elena? Why all the bugs? Why the mold? This sensitive, female empowerment conclusion doesn’t fit the rest of the movie AT ALL. I suddenly had flashbacks of Andrew O'Hehir's butthurt review of The Conjuring, which complained about the depiction of witches as child-murdering, devil-worshippers. Is it possible the movie started off as a straightforward horror film but the writer/directors had a change of heart and hastily rewrote the conclusion to portray more "realistic" depictions of witchcraft? Maybe it was the opposite; it didn't have ANY horror elements at first, but they were introduced after the producers looked at the script and marked it as "non marketable"? Whatever the reason, this finale is a mistake.

I was enthusiastic about House of Spoils for about four-fifths of the running time. Ariana DeBose is likable. You cheer for her character and you're worried when she gets scared. Even if the conclusion comes out of nowhere, doesn’t make much sense and left me dissatisfied, I’m not sorry I saw the film. The parts that work are highly effective. The mismatched ending also works… just not for THIS movie. (November 15, 2024)

[oyasumi-ashurii]

Okay, so it might be a little hard for me to cohesively put all my thoughts and feelings into why I care so much about Final Fantasy VIII, but because of the 25th anniversary and seeing a lot of you talk about your love of the game I'll try the best I can. So here's my embarrassingly and extremely long personal history with the game and why it will always be my favorite.

Before FF8 I was mostly a Nintendo kid. Mario and Zelda were all I really knew, and as a hyperactive as I was I didn't really have the patience for anything story-heavy that took a lot of reading. Though I did I get a PlayStation later on I hardly bothered with anything other than Spyro or Crash. Anything similar in graphics to FF7 or 8 was mostly foreign to me too, with maybe the closest being my cousin having the first Resident Evil and I was far too young and too scared to bother with anything like that. So you can imagine the complete and utter shock kid me had going to my uncle's and seeing him play FF8 for the first time. I don't think it had been out too long but he was already on disc 3 in Esthar and, bless his soul, he let me play his save for a while. Being able to fly around the map on the Ragnarok?? The realistic proportions and animations in battle?? The absolute BANGER of a soundtrack?! All of it had me excitedly begging my parents to buy me the game. Nine year old me didn't know roman numerals, though, just that it was called Final Fantasy with some weird lettering. I had no idea of Final Fantasy as a series and I didn't know it was the eighth game or that there were eight of them at all. I couldn't remember what the cover looked like either and my uncle not long after that was going through his own personal troubles so I wasn't able to visit or ask him. We didn't have internet at home until the early 2000s (it was AOL dial-up too, jesus, I don't miss that) and my parents were strict about internet use, so I was stuck. My dad did eventually buy me an FF game as a surprise when I was eleven, and lmao can you believe I was genuinely upset because it was Final Fantasy VII?! That being said, I have an INSANE amount of love and respect for 7. Considering how much easier I think the materia system is to understand for newcomers, having it as my first, full FF experience was a bit of a blessing lol. FF7 hit me in a different way than 8 did, and maybe I'll make a post about it sometime.

So other than the brief times on the internet (I was only allowed on for an hour or two before I was kicked off) and reading gaming magazines I had hardly any access or knowledge about FF8 until years later. I knew the characters briefly and read some small stuff here and there about the world, but that was it. Even so, I STILL loved it. I would draw them (I've drawn most of my life, and I still do occasionally as a fun hobby), write about what I thought they were like, so, so much of me embarrassingly obsessing over it and driving my small group of friends in school bonkers (oh lordy I just remembered my preteen username I had used on an FF forum and now I'm cringing.) You get it. So why did I cling to the game so much, even though I barely played it? Why did it mean so much to me? Because around the time I was twelve I was deeply depressed, and throughout my middle school and early high school life video games and their stories were the only joy and comfort I had. I'm not going to go into much detail because it feels too personal to write on tumblr about and I'd rather not think back too much. If you want the gist it was at a moment in time I was mostly on my own. I felt isolated and alone, and due to growing up in and around strict, conservative circles I struggled with feeling far behind my peers, so my personal and school life suffered. Things got better though and I'm happy in my life now, so that's really it.

As I got a little older I had played other FF's and RPGs in between that I also fell in love with (especially Kingdom Hearts) and funnily enough horror games, but I still didn't get my hands on 8 until I got it on my fifteenth birthday and I was over the moon. That night and many nights and weekends after that I played every single bit of that game. I had printed walkthroughs and a guide of the junction system, with overly-detailed notes I had scribbled down and highlighted. I had written down all the rules of triple triad, weapon upgrades, item refinements and what you get from monsters, side-quests, all of it. I had never went all in into a game before, but I did it because I wanted to experience the game that gave preteen me comfort everything it had to offer. And I remember vividly when I finished it I cried until I was almost out of breath.

But you know, I didn't get emotional because of the nostalgic school-like feel and inspired real-world setting, or the overall main plot with magic, sci-fi and sorceresses. It wasn't even the deeply interwoven love stories, the theme of fate or the gameplay either, though I grew to love all of those things dearly with time.

It was because I was a socially-awkward and lonely fifteen year old girl that watched an equally as awkward seventeen year old boy overcome his own deeply-rooted fears and trauma and come out at the end of it all on the path to healing.

And I knew I'd be okay, and ever since then this game has and will always be that reminder and comfort for me.

Thanks for reading.

[helluva-world-innit]

Late to the party but finally making an entrance is Envy Ring!

I'm sure you can see similarities between it and Greed which Levi is less than pleased about. Mammon swears he's just trying to give Hell's denizens a lively, entertaining place to spend their Souls/jewels and exploit their Sinners, not copying Envy's bright and alluring aesthetic. To be fair to him, Envy's light is largely bioluminescence whereas Greed must rely on the soul energy that flows into and around Hell from Sloth Ring (we'll get to that house of horrors when we get there). As such, Envy and Wrath Rings are the only ones to have natural light (biolum and lava). Go figure. Green is the main color here though it's not allowing me to photograph it properly. The windows in the palace are actually light green, not white. My gel pens did not want to cooperate and I think I gave up at that point too. Anyhoo, coral reefs were defs an inspiration for this place. As well as the deep sea and fish just being fish.

As is the case in the open Earth ocean...everything in Envy can and will fucking kill you (yes, that is a giant crab). From the flora to the fauna to the fucking ROCKS to the crushing pressure and scathing shade thrown by the Ringmaster or their Overseers, Delta and Ray, everything is designed to leave you bleeding for the sharks here. Even the few landmasses that dot the massive Ring aren't safe. Above the waves live horse-sized creatures that look like pelicans under an x-ray machine. The bone skimmers, as they are known, are notorious for attacking and eating any demons that come too far up to the surface. The rare tourist spot or transport station above the water have to have hounds patrolling around the clock to keep the hellish birds at bay. Naturally, everything is more expensive in Envy proper, where only those who can breathe the sulfuric water of Hell may dwell for any length of time. It is a place of privilege, beauty, and attitude. All of which has been cultivated by its Ringmaster, Leviathan (that big ol' tentacled thing by the palace? that's him playing peekaboo; like an iceberg, we just see the tip).

There is a natural current of soul energy that courses through Envy (crevice, bottom left-ish). Here is where many of the higher echelon of Envy live and work since it's a well-spring of power and very bright here. Named the Ring of Influence, it runs around the entire Ring like a smaller separate ring of Hell itself. The Ars Goetia who live here may as well be gods the lower hellborn are always vying for the attention of and Sinners know no peace if they happen to become entangled in the tendrils of this privileged and isolated kingdom. They form an entirely unique enslaved underclass here and Envy is the biggest generator of Broken Sinners in Hell as a result (we'll get to the Broken later too). The housing and such you can see in the background up there are where the middle-class worker bees live mostly. Also the occasional poor Hellborn or Sinner that would rather die (again?) than fall into the Ring of Influence where life could very well be worse for them depending who gobbles them up. It's like whalefall, I guess.

Now, the tubes. So Hell's got these elevators, right? Hell-evators, if you will. Well, most Rings hide or blend them in to the environment. Not Envy Ring. Demons can see exactly what part of Envy Ring they're traveling to or through thanks to the reinforced glass of the Hell-evators here. Naughty demons even break them sometimes as illustrated above. They have the tech to build a new one and do so, no problem. The general mindset here is 'yeah, we know you want what we have but you could never pull it off like us so die mad' even if every Envy citizen is a literal fish out of water in any other Ring they might travel to. Sure, they're someone that matters there, but would anyone in Gluttony give a shit? Or Pride? Hard to say.

Leviathan is cold, calculating and about the only being stronger than Lucifer in Hell. What stops these two from coming to blows like how Satan and Luci did all those millennia ago to decide who would rule Hell is Levi likes being behind the scenes. Anything that keeps God's attention off them and the prophecy to kill them and serve them up like sashimi to humanity is *chef's kiss*. While they question the decisions their king makes, they still have a frightful amount of respect and love for Lucifer and Satan...just not really anyone else. Including Charlie. Especially not Asmodeus, who is the youngest of the Sins by far.

Notable characters from this Ring are Nifty, Chaz and his family, Verosika, Alessio/the majority of Crimson's gang still, and Baxter. The Overseers of this Ring are the aforementioned eel twins, Delta and Ray. Also planning on doing a map view of this Ring later so I can paint a better picture of where everything is in relation to each other.

Up Next (though who knows when): Sloth Ring!

[madeitlate37]

Midwest Angelica by Team AQ

Onto our second series, now, Midwest Angelica is significantly more recent than Gemini Home Entertainment, but has a lot of backing within the analog horror community. If one was to check out the main subreddit and peek at a few of the many tier-lists that came out around a certain point, Midwest Angelica tends to rank fairly high.

I will be honest and say that this didn’t end up being one of my favorites for reasons I’ll elaborate on in the more in-depth analysis, but I do see the appeal of it, and the hook at the beginning really caught my attention.

As before, some spoiler free qualities:

• Cosmic threats that aren’t just straight alien invasions.

• End of the world scenarios with a lot of fighting to prevent it.

• A threat that is way too smart for its own good.

• Hive-mind-threats.

• Rural settings, if isolation is your jam, Midwest Angelica has it covered.

• On-screen payoff, though this does come at the cost of having a cinematic shot in the middle of security recreations.

• Twisted security, not to the extent of Gemini necessarily but Midwest doesn’t just present footage as a way to convey important information/events.

• Not safe at home, this is done in regular horror a lot, but analog horror tends to make home invasion scenarios much mire real and scary, Midwest Angelica nails that in Act 1.

•Religious symbolism/literal representation, not necessarily a demon, which is rare to see with this kind of horror.

Now here’s the more in-depth look, again, more prone to spoilers:

Midwest Angelica, as I mentioned before, got my attention because it had an amazing dramatic hook, if you go to the YouTube channel, it’s right in the description. To be as spoiler-free as possible, if you enjoyed The Thing by John Carpenter, you’re likely to enjoy this one, too.

This series is good at developing the threat and making you recognize it as a threat despite showing it in the first episode. It overwhelms you with a chaotic situation and pulls you in to want to know what’s actually happening. Throughout this as well, the actual footage is broken up by digital simulations of events. The first episode alone is an excellent example of careful setup and payoff.

It also does a good job at demonstrating the spread of the threat, first it’s being observed by a space program, then it unexpectedly crashes and a team of researchers is sent after it, and when that doesn’t go well, we immediately see a family being attacked by it at their remote home. It’s a common setup for threats of this kind, but the analog format paired with how Team AQ actually handles it made it a lot more visceral and engaging.

The reason I didn’t end up liking it was because I’m personally less of a religious horror person, and because I felt disappointed at how the actual threat differed from what I imagined based on the hook. So it’s nothing the series itself did wrong and is just a preference issue on my end. I did end up being slightly broken from emersion because, as stated above, there was a well-done but out of place cinematic shot which included complete focus on a 3D model with not enough effects to cover the flaws in it. Again, it’s a preference thing for me, and the 3D is used to good effect in other areas of the series.

All of this being said, lots of people still love this series, so I will still recommend it. It has a large audience, updates frequently, and seems to know exactly where the narrative is going. And as we’ll see with other series’, the effects may be bad, but they might be able to be ignored if the concept is good and executed well enough.

Plus, this series is much shorter and less daunting to watch than Gemini.

So, if any of this seems interesting to you, it’s on YouTube as well.

As for next week…