#and there was the inflation hypothesis LOL

[himboblackdragon]

The crack fic I want to write is one exploring Shangque's "low" pay/savings situation in detail.

[rogueshadeaux]

 Chapter Eleven — Limitations

I hadn’t tried this with regular water even, yet. The entire thing was still a theory, a hypothesis that wasn’t even fully thought out and yet I began the experiment process. My other hand came out too, gauntlets of wet slowly rising from my skin as if sensing my own hesitation and being put off by the idea. 

5K Words | 16 min read time | TRIGGER WARNINGS: look it's gonna be body horror from here on out lol my fav series as a kid was Animorphs. I might have issues.

We only got about three of the boxes out of Dad’s old bedroom before Betty demanded a pause; the living room was full, too full, of boxes, all still waiting to be unpacked. “Pick a package, kids! We’ll make three piles: home, donation, and trash.” Betty declared, pointing to spaces she managed to clear up on the floors. “We sort these quick, you all can run off and play with your powers after.” 

 “Betty, I am a grown man,” Dad mumbled, “I’m not going to go play with anything.” 

Betty just chuckled, shaking her head in the way a mother did when she knew her kid was lying. 

 Betty wasn’t lying when she said the boxes were full of old home supplies; every box was chock full of random house things, nearly all of them outdated. Brent barked out a laugh at some point, leaning the box over to show me a collection of VHS tapes and a player, saying, “Jesus, look at these relics,” and I could physically see Betty and Dad both age an extra ten years. 

 I was in the midst of pulling out a bunch of ceramic, brightly-colored and slightly-chipped bowls and pots when Dad was the next to burst out laughing, pulling out a red, deflated…something. “Oh my God, Reggie kept this?” He shook his head in disbelief. 

 “What, uh…” I reached over to feel at another end; it felt like a pool floatie. “What is it?”

 “There was this fad, when we were really young, to have inflatable furniture in your room. This,” he held up the plastic like a kill, bagged and tagged, “Is a chair. Reggie’s, not mine — mine was more tape than anything.” 

 Inflatable…furniture? Inflatable furniture. 

 We seemed both lucky, and consistently striking out, finding good things for the house while also filing through stuff that, in my opinion, belonged in a museum versus the house. Small dark blue drinking glasses that were printed, HAPPY NEW MILLENIUM 2000, a cast iron that Betty said was hers when she was Dad’s age, looking no less worse for wear. There was a box full of old rags and towels and, while they were scratchy and a bit worn, they’d do the job. 

 I opened another box, this one more worn than the rest, a folded filing of bursting colors immediately threatening to spill out from the pressure of being released. Soft browns and pure whites mixed with muted blues and reds woven into soft blankets, the patterns immaculate as I pulled one out. “Woah,” I gasped out. I had no idea how old it was, but the blanket was still so soft.

“Oh, goodness.” I heard Betty across the way. I looked up to see everyone was frozen. Brent had his head cocked to the side like a puppy, Betty was smiling sadly, and Dad…I don’t know what that face was supposed to be, but it definitely held a lot of emotion. “You found Ruth’s blankets.” 

 “Ruth?” 

 “My mother.” Dad said as flatly as he could manage, face still unreadable. 

 Brent caught his tone, looking over to Dad and then back to me, that silent twin conversation happening with the slightest twinge of our eyebrows. Betty, in an effort to either stoke the fire or kill it off, began to say, “Ruth learned how to do traditional weaving from our x̌əč̓usadad — traditional teachings. Long ago, those blankets were actually made of dog hair.” 

 “Dog hair?” Brent and I chimed in at the same time. 

 “An old breed that’s extinct now. The Akomish learned the technique from the Salish, long ago during trades.” 

 Absentmindedly, I stroked the blanket. It was soft, a bit scratchy like wool. “So this is dog hair?”

 Betty chortled. “It would have been, a few hundred years ago. The dog we would harvest the hair from evolved into a shorthair. That’s just plain wool.” She reached out expectantly, and I passed over the folded blanket, Betty fluffing it out to show the intricate shape in its weaving, the blank middle stamped with a blue fish, Akomish-style. “This was handmade by Ruth. She dyed the wool, wove it on that big loom you saw in the Longhouse, and painted sʔuladxʷ — Salmon — in the middle. She used to be the one to run the traditional weaving seminars at the Longhouse.” 

 I pulled out another blanket, undoing it to look at the tightly woven blue and white sheet with a bird in the middle, some sort of eagle or hawk. Felt older than the rest. “Here, Regina, give me the box.” Betty asked, standing from her place on the couch. “You both should pick a blanket later tonight, when you get back. That one, though,” she stressed, gently pulling the blanket out of my hand, “Is your father’s — had it since he was a boy. Based his tattoo on it.”

 I spun to face Dad, who pulled out of his depression in time to roll his eyes. “You have a tattoo?” 

 “Had,” he stressed. “Had it removed after we moved to Portland.” 

 When we fled to Portland, I could hear in the emotion of his sentence. Another piece of him, stripped away. 

 That box was the last on my side, Brent going through a final one full of china while Dad fished out a box of childhood toys he was adamant no one would want when Betty began talking about donating. He held onto the box with a tight arm though, guarding the Toy Story and old anime action figures as if they were gold. 

 Sure, no one would want them — except him, maybe. 

 “Alright!” Betty slapped her hands against her knees, looking at the vintage table clock Dad found now perched crooked on the mantle. “It’s lunch time. Let’s eat something, and then I’ll deal with the trash here while you go with the children, okay, Delsin?” 

 “Yeah,” Dad nodded. “Yeah, sure.” 

 Betty and I laid out makings for sandwiches, another bit of prizes she brought in the form of Walmart bags. “I have a microwave in storage somewhere in my shed I’ll bring for you,” she assured us, pulling an onion and tomato out of their produce bags before clicking her tongue, displeased. “Oh, I didn’t…we didn’t happen to find knives while unpacking, did we?” 

 We made the arbitrary move of looking for a utensil we all knew wasn’t there, conceding defeat after a moment. At least, until Brent said, “I wanna try something,” 

 We gave him a wide berth at his insistence, Dad catching my confused look with a shrug. Brent was chewing on his bottom lip hard enough to bust it, if it wasn’t already so weathered by his constant idle action, pulling his hands up to look at the palms. 

 The steel aura was returning, encasing him in their own mimic of football padding instead of simply being forearm sleeves, reflecting the sunlight pouring in from the kitchen window and casting little rays of light everywhere. I hadn’t realized it, but the skin on his arm took on a metallic shine when he used his powers, a silvery blush. 

 Brent hesitated for a moment, hands sort of caught mid-movement, like he’d been caught trying to yank a treat out of the cookie jar. He was…I wouldn’t say confused, but processing, eyes looking far past the granite countertop as he thought hard. 

 Eventually he found absolve, brows smoothing over as he brought his hands together like he was trying to warm them, a decent amount of the steel shavings traveling down his arm, wrapping around his hands in their own sort of hold. And then he forced everything apart all of a sudden, the steel around his hand bursting with the effort before pulling back in like negative gauge pressure, forming. Sharpening. 

 It was a ‘blink and you miss it’ sort of situation; in the span of half a second, the knife had already taken shape, an offset handle to keep knuckles away from the impossibly sharp-looking edge, all of it cool steel. It wasn’t anything special or intricate — but it was a weapon, an actual weapon that Brent caught midair when it began to fall, aura of steel sinking away into his skin. 

 “Show off,” I jokingly muttered, giving him a genuine smile when his head shot up to glare at me. “Think you can make a sword?” 

 The hostility melted off Brent’s face when he saw I was teasing, loosening his grip on the knife and holding it by the spine of its blade so Betty could take it. “I mean, probably?” 

 “That’s something else we should try today.” Dad decided. “See what kind of defensive tools you can make with your power. Keep making knives and shit and I’ll never worry about your safety again,” 

 “Delsin Xe’las,” Betty chastised, turning to begin cutting the onion, “Watch your language,” 

 “‘Xe’las’?” I repeated, turning to Dad. “Is that your middle name?” Delsin Xe’las. I only knew Damion Scott. 

 Come to think of it, though; Brent’s middle name was Si’ahl. “Latin,” Dad said way back when we first asked what it meant. “Your Mom and I met in a Latin class at school.”

Yeah, was definitely beginning to realize that was a load of bullshit, too. Were their names…I dunno, Akomish? Or whatever language the Akomish spoke. Chinook, maybe? I was beginning to feel left out, with the middle name Elaine. 

 Dad simply nodded. “Yeah. Named after some changeling and a white guy pretending to be Native in an old western,” 

 Was that…the ‘Delsin’ part or the ‘Xe’las’ part? 

 Betty interrupted before I could ask, the sound of her slicing onion going silent as she turned to look over her shoulder at me with watery eyes. “Regina, I just realized — I don’t know your power.” 

 Huh, she was right, wasn’t she? I wasn’t the one throwing beds into space or making convenient kitchen tools — I had no reason to show off. “Oh it’s, uh, water,” I said as if I were unsure of the fact. 

 “Oh, water!” Betty smiled, wide, like I just told her I won a prize or something. “That’s a powerful element. Source of life and all,” 

 Why was I blushing? “Yeah…” 

 “Jean, do the thing.” Brent said off on the side, now leaning against the countertop, giddy. 

 “The thing? What thing?” 

 Brent rolled his eyes, as if I was supposed to be able to access some twin telepathy bullshit and actually get what he meant. “Y’know. Evaporate.” 

 “‘Evaporate?’“ Betty repeated, now fully facing me. Oh, great, now I was trapped in the spotlight. 

 Even Dad didn’t seem like he wanted to save me, instead just electing to adopt the same lopsided smile Brent had. I rolled my eyes, demanding, “Turn on the tap,” to Brent; I didn’t know the rules of my power yet. Would I have to have a constant source of water to stay evaporated, or would I be safe until I wanted to change back? 

 But Brent dutifully turned the tap to drizzle, and I ran out of reasons not to show off.

 It was impossible to go from solid to gas without making a stop in between at liquid, turns out, something I hadn’t realized until I was standing there, still solid. Guess it made sense though — what part of me was supposed to evaporate if it was all skin? My sweat? 

 So I changed, skin and clothes fading into a blue that kept shifting in place, the water in me — that was me — seemingly never able to stay still. And as soon as the last of the cotton on my old socks turned to liquid, I burst away into the air, leaving the linoleum slightly wet under my now-evaporated feet. 

 I’d have to get used to how my senses themselves changed into something else; how my vision inverted into specks of blue that held place in the air, forming around the solids I couldn’t see anymore. My hearing was still there — it processed Betty’s gasp of surprise — but it sounded like…static? No, that wasn’t right. Like carbonation. Fizzes and pops and bursts replaced the noises, and yet I was still able to hear Betty gasp, “Oh my goodness,” 

 There wasn’t a lot of water at all in the air in here, I was surprised to realize. The closer my eyes traveled to the fireplace, the less water there was — and I even got the joy of watching more dissipate into nothing, the blue dying off as it finally got too hot to stick around. Outside the window, though, the flurries of snow were instead soft sparkles, blue with a glint to it that somehow translated with ease in me; frozen. The water pouring from the tap looked no different than it usually would, if I’m being honest. 

 At least, until it began to bend in the middle of its stream, the water particles swirling away and up to Dad as his slick silhouette absorbed it. 

 The water traveled up his arms, settled into the silhouette…but never disappeared. I watched them spread, encasing him in his own little shell and halting in place, ready to be used at his disposal. The entirety of Dad glinted now, no longer a shadow splitting apart the wet, but was the wet, a figure clear enough that I could see him look around, pause on my face, and cock his head to the side, eyebrows creased. “I can…see you?” 

 He could? 

 I opened my mouth to respond, a bit shocked to find that the words died off in my throat. I didn’t have a throat — that was the issue. No vocal cords to use. So instead I held up both hands, waiting for Dad to count off the number I was displaying. “Seven.” He deadpanned, the water somehow tracking his rolling eyes.

 I wonder if I looked the same to him as he did to me; a being of water, not a shadow. That was good, right? I mean, I wouldn’t be winning anymore games of tag anytime soon, but if he could see me at any point when I would need to evaporate, it’d probably make communication a lot easier. 

 I wanted to ask. God, I wanted to demand answers out of him of how it looked, but I couldn’t. There was no way to speak. So instead, deciding this was probably enough showing off for now as well, I went back to water, able to garbledly ask, “What does it look like?” as I began solidifying. 

 “What, seeing you when you’re gas?” He asked, continuing when I nodded. “It’s like…y’know when it’s a hot day and the road sorta warps a ways away from where you are? That whole illusion with the puddles of water? You look like that.” 

 “Weird, that’s not what you look like at all.” I commented. 

 “Do we look different?” Brent asked, taking the paper plate Betty offered. 

 I went into a whole explanation about how the world sort of shifts when I change, something Brent and Betty balked at — but Dad just nodded. “That’s a lot like when I’m invisible with the video power,” he commented. “Kind of like, radio waves or something in the air, broken up by solid objects.” 

 Right, he did have an invisibility trick! I forgot all about that. “Yeah, exactly. But you’re different when you absorb water, too.” 

 Dad was next to take a plate, throwing a quick thank you to the side as he asked, “Oh, really?” 

 “Yeah. When you absorbed the — thanks, Betty — when you absorbed the water, you sort of…looked like me when I’m liquid.” I threw four slices on bread on my plate. “It’s like I can see the water you’ve drained wait to be used.” 

 “Huh.” Dad simply hummed. 

 We made our sandwiches, falling into a comfortable silence as we ate until Dad demanded we go get dressed. “You two are going to be my guinea pigs today,” he declared, only partially joking. “I want to test out my theories on what you can do,” 

 So we got dressed, braving for the cold with jackets and the hats that Conduit gave us only a few days ago. It was crazy how long ago that felt; I was a normal kid freaking out over exams. No powers. I honestly still was waiting for the other shoe to drop, and for my body to collapse with the effort of processing all of this. There was no way I was adjusting this easily to everything. It had to catch up eventually. 

 But for now, I went with the flow, scoring shotgun by zipping to the passenger side door as a rush of water, able to form around the body of the truck instead of having to pass the back end. “What?” Brent practically shouted from the other side as I busted out laughing, solidifying. “You can’t do that!” 

 “Can and did, bud,” I grinned as he came around the bed of the truck, annoyed. “Cry about it.” 

 We were off soon after, Dad only having to pause to wipe away the pillowy snow from the truck’s body. But we weren’t going back to the construction site. We headed towards the Longhouse, the eagle totem atop of it just clipping the horizon when Dad instead slowed down, turning right into an abandoned parking lot. 

 It was huge, and definitely was home to something at some point; there was a foundation threadbare of any actual building material, instead housing a pavilion full of picnic tables and frozen basketball hoops. Off on the edge of the woods was a man-made pond, decorative rocks and frozen waterfall all proof of a nice zen koi pond that’s been shut off for the winter. The tallest picket fence I’d ever seen ran along the edge of the cliffside, its sanded-down tops only just allowing you to see the edges of the Sound before it gave away to the gray horizon. 

 “We gonna shoot hoops or something, Dad?” Brent asked, only partially joking. He looked just as confused as I felt. 

 Dad didn’t bother responding, throwing the truck in part and pulling the e-brake. “Come on, let’s go.” 

 It had started snowing again, really snowing, the white static muting out our surroundings as Dad led us under the pavilion. “Alright, Jean,” he turned to me. “Yesterday, when you got hit with the relay — did it show you anything about snow or ice?” 

 Oh. That’s what we were doing here. “N-no?” I stuttered out, like this was a question with a right or wrong answer. “Boiling points and, uh, the triple point but not…nothing frozen.” 

 “Doesn’t the triple point involve ice, though?” Brent pointed out, shoving his hands in his pockets. We both were missing gloves, and definitely feeling the fact. 

 “I mean yeah, but like, I was the solid part of the equation. Y’know—“ I waved a hand around, motioning to myself. “This me.” 

“Well, regardless,” Dad shrugged. “I want you to try and drain some snow, and that pond.”

“But Dad, they’re frozen.” 

His eyes met mine, and he cocked an eyebrow. “They’re still water, aren’t they?” 

I didn’t have a good retort, which was frustrating, because something deep within me was just consistently repeating how this wasn’t going to work.

Nonetheless, I walked up to a snow pile, reaching my hand out and brushing it with the tips of my fingers, first. Soft, powdery. All fresh snow. 

 Pulling away, I reached out once more, with the aim to drain this time. 

 And immediately jumped back in pain.

 Instead of water rising, something stung, that white-hot bite that usually settles in your skin before the actual burn when you touch something too hot. I hissed, dragging out the f in “Fuck!” and receiving Dad’s chastising behind me before hearing Brent actually chuckle. “It hurts, doesn’t it?” 

 “Is that what it’s like?” I shook out my hand. The initial sting was gone, leaving behind a twinge in each individual joint of my fingers.

 “Yeah,” Dad confirmed, at the end of a nod when I turned to look at them. “But that’s strange. It’s water, isn’t it? Shouldn’t you be able to control it?”

 I shrugged, even if the question was rhetorical. Those visions never once touched on anything frozen. Was there really a difference? Was I restricted simply to the liquid aspect of it? 

 Even then, that didn’t make sense — I could turn into gas! I could change the water from gas to liquid in the air? What was it about the water being solid that was restricting me? But Dad did have a point. It was still water. It would even register on my weird aqua-vision when I was gas. But…come to think of it, I could only heat up water sources, too: there wasn’t anything in the visions about steam or fog or something. 

 I crouched low, looking at the snow and thinking hard. “I think it’s only water…” I eventually said, trailing off. 

 “Well, yeah, I thought we established that—“ Brent began sarcastically, but I cut him off. 

 “No, I mean: I think it’s only liquid I can deal with.” I didn’t take my eyes off the snow, each individual flake highlighted to me. Each one different. “I can warm up water, cool it off, but like…everything I saw? In those visions? None of them involve the other forms of matter. You know, as a gas, I see the water in the air. That’s not — water is always in the air, right? But it can be a different amount…” 

 Something began to crunch, Dad joining me in a crouch. “What’re you trying to say, Jean?” 

 “Dad, what can you do?” I turned to look at him. “With water?” 

 “Would you—“ he faltered, a bit taken aback by how serious I looked. “Would you like me to show you, or—“ 

 I shrugged. “Either. It doesn’t really matter; I just need to know.” 

 “Well.” Dad sat back on his heels. “I can shoot off water — at different pressures, too. There’s uh, the water stairs—“

 “‘Water stairs?’” Brent repeated, now standing directly behind us. 

 “Best name I could think of,” Dad sort of chuckled. “I can make little floating puddle of water by manipulating both the water and humidity to hold them up and like, bound up them—“

 “Humidity!” I suddenly shouted, making them both jump. That made so much sense! “That’s what it is! I don’t evaporate, I become humidity. I’m seeing humidity in the air, not gas.” 

 I looked at both of them, expecting understanding — and instead receiving bewildered looks. “Jeanie, I wasn’t a good student — I dropped out and all — so would you uh, mind explaining how those are different? Isn’t humidity gas?” Dad finally said. 

 Brent, though, took over. “I was literally just studying this for my exam. Humidity is water vapor, which is a gas, but it becomes one differently from evaporation due to the critical temperature to turn it into one. It’s below the actual boiling point of water.”

 “I still have no idea what that means.” 

 Brent chewed on his lip once more. “It’s — goddamnit how do I explain this—“

 Having already taken Chemistry — and with some newfound intimate knowledge of my own — I tried chiming in to help. “When you heat up water, the molecules move so fast they sort of break apart. That’s when they become gas; near each other, but they ripped apart, the heat being some kind of point of no return. They’ve gotta be cooled off to become liquid again. Humidity, though, is a mixture of a bunch of stuff, including water vapor. Vapor isn’t heated up to be gas and besides, it’s got the potential to easily become liquid again since it hasn’t passed that temperature, uh, threshold. It hasn’t been heated enough to actually rip apart the water bonds. They’re spread thin, sure, but it’s still moisture. That’s what I’ve been doing,” The realization settled in easily, and I said, “I’m becoming moisture in the air, not gas.” 

 Dad nodded, still seeming a bit unsure, but at least processing it as he asked, “Is that why I see you when you’re invisible? Y’think it’s the Conduit in me looking for water to drain?” 

 “Please don’t.” I chuckled.

 Dad joined in on the light humor, chuckling for only a moment before his eyebrows creased. “So, no snow or ice or anything?” 

 I shook my head. “Probably not.” 

 “So, wait,” Brent joined us fully now, crouched all the same. “You literally can only use water in its — fuck what’s it called—“

 “Brent.” 

 “Yeah yeah, sorry.” Dad’s face deadened, looking over at me in annoyance as Brent completely missed it, off in his mental notes. “…Liquid phase? I think that’s it. Would explain why you have to drain, at least. Your power doesn’t involve temperature or like, pressurizing the gas or solid into a liquid, so you can’t drain from ice.” 

 Dad shook his head. “But she said she can ‘warm up the water,’ didn’t you?” I nodded. “Isn’t that heating?” 

 Honestly, I shouldn’t have had an answer. It didn’t make much sense regardless of what way I looked at it. But it was there, glaring and obvious, as I processed the question myself. “I vibrate the molecules. I don’t heat them up,”

 “The vibrating is what makes them warm.” Dad finished, finally on the same page. “So then, in snow and stuff, do you see the water molecules?” 

 “I can see the water in everything if I look hard enough.” I shrugged, realizing how unhinged that sounded when said aloud. 

 “Can you vibrate the frozen ones?” 

 I wasn’t sure. But I got where Dad was going with this; if I vibrated them hard enough to heat, the snow would melt. I’d have water to manipulate. But would its state of matter mess with me being able to control the water molecules? 

 This was getting way too complicated. 

 But Dad wasn’t asking my opinion; he was asking me to try. And really I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? 

 So holding my hand out, I focused on the little snowflakes, my vision slowly shifting as I went from seeing it, y’know, normally, to how it looked when I was Vapor. Every single water molecule in the area lit up like a piece of glitter, its glow different frozen versus vapor. 

 My hand came out again, hesitating as I thought just how to do this. There wasn’t anything in the instructions that outlined how — I just knew I could. 

 Well, maybe.

 I hadn’t tried this with regular water even, yet. The entire thing was still a theory, a hypothesis that wasn’t even fully thought out and yet I began the experiment process. My other hand came out too, gauntlets of wet slowly rising from my skin as if sensing my own hesitation and being put off by the idea. 

 Linking the molecules from the snow to my ‘Conduit-ness’ started as a mental process. It’s something I can’t even pretend to fully understand, but it felt akin to waking someone out of a deep slumber; they sort of moved, shimmied as if trying to readjust under the comfortable blanket of snow. But when my requests became demands, and I forced them awake, they decided to fully make it my problem. 

 That sting suddenly came back, a heat that settled into the muscles on my arms and began prickling them with its stab, making me flinch. But the close knit molecules of the pile of fresh fallen snow I was concentrating on actually began to move faster. “Jean?” Dad asked cautiously beside me when I grunted. 

 I probably could have stopped. They were moving, mission accomplished, right? But I wanted to see if I could melt it, make it into something I could drain. 

 The longer I held my proverbial grip on the snow though, the more it hurt. “Jean, are you—“ Dad moved beside me, my peripheral barely catching how he moved to his knees. 

 Just then, though, my gauntlets, swirling and spinning, stopped. The ends of it on my hands and laying against my fingers began to frost over, the bite turning from a scathing heat to an absolutely unbearable cold, the needle pricks becoming full on stabs now as the frost slowly began to slip up my arms. 

 That first stab made me gasp out, strangled, concentration slipping for a moment and the molecules I was working on losing their momentum. “Jean, that’s enough.” Dad demanded, hand on my elbow. 

 “I’ve almost got it…” I gasped out. My arms began to shake under the pressure — or maybe the cold? I was freezing. The water was moving from a frost to a solid freeze now, and I couldn’t move my fingers at their first two knuckles. 

But the molecules were close to spastic now, and I just knew they were on the edge of liquifying. I’d just have to beat out whatever was making my arms freeze. So, shrugging off Dad’s hold, I pushed my arms forward, more water crawling off my back and down my arms to encapsulate every bit of my arm — including the already frozen bits — fighting back against the freeze with a cry. “Regina!” Dad chastised, shooting to his feet. He disappeared from my peripheral, hands gripping each of my shoulders and yanking me back. 

 It was right then, though, that the molecules burst away from their tight hug, snow melting away into a sad puddle no bigger than 6 inches across. I landed on my ass rather violently, knocking into Dad’s knees as the water disappeared from around my upper arms — but stayed on my forearms, layering atop the freeze and moving in violent waves in an effort to thaw them. 

 I couldn’t feel the pain anymore. I was literally beyond frostbitten, my fingers and the little bit of my palm that the ice had reached to numb of…anything. Frozen. I was frozen. I tried to move my fingers and nothing came of the action, not even that disconnected feeling after going numb. It was like they didn’t exist. “Dad,” I rushed to say, trying to flex the fingers again and again to no avail, “Dad I can’t feel them,” 

[vuelie-frost]

Living in the woods

aka, vuelie-frost verbally babbling why Elsa lives in the forest instead of Arendelle.  This is still a part of the ending that flickers my unease, even this morning after having slept on it. This isn’t a post to convince anyone, but literally just my own thoughts and processing. Hopefully by the end I’ll be more accepting, or even excited about Elsa’s development. I don’t like it, but it doesn’t mean it’s bad or the wrong decision. Separating the part of me that has desires (ie that Elsa would be queen in Arendelle forever and ever) and the part of me that recognizes cinema as a series of complex character arcs (ie what I desire might not actually be best, or in character) is REALLY HARD. But I posit it’s essential to interpreting media in a healthy way.  I 100% trust Jen Lee and Chris Buck, not because I idolize them, but because they so obviously care about these characters and this world. Maybe I’m too starry-eyed, but I don’t get the sense that they did this sequel for the cash cow. Now Disney execs probably pushed them in this direction for that reason (Disney is a corporation at the end of the day,) but Jen has stated that they didn’t want to make a sequel if there wasn’t a story to tell. They still felt parts of the story were left unsaid, and that’s why they pursued this film.  That said, the movie takes on a LOT, and I have a hunch that’s why it feels so fast paced. Not only is it a kids’ movie and therefore has to hold your attention at all times, but it packs in a lot of plot and character development into a short timespan. The sacrifice of a fast pace is the realism of some situations. Is it realistic that Anna would process her grief over Elsa so quickly? In the real world, no. Probably not. Is it realistic Elsa would so easily hand over the throne when it was something she enjoyed and was good at? Probably not. But (and the first movie had some similar issues too,) we have to suspend disbelief a bit. This isn’t exclusive to Frozen; it happens in all movies. You see it in small bits where someone hangs up the phone without saying “bye,” or when people make eye contact and something spoken goes unsaid. That doesn’t really happen in real life. But we turn a blind eye to those details because the larger purpose of the story is more important than those details. And as these details in Frozen are only rushed, not invalid or stupid, we can still accept them.  The idea that Elsa belongs in the forest/among nature is hard for me to accept, but again, that doesn’t mean it’s wrong. It just means my vision for her wasn’t what the writers thought was best. And the writers know her better than I do. They did her such justice in the first film and even in this film (her poor skills at charades? GOD RELATABLE.) I’ve often fantasied, albeit unconsciously, about the Elsa I’d like to see. I realize that in the 6 years since Frozen, I’ve loved the idea of Elsa as a mysterious, snow-bound sorceress type, living a somewhat solitary life. Still as human, flawed, and precious as ever, but becoming “larger than life” figuratively. Someone revered, respected, maybe a little bit feared upon first impression, but ultimately gentle and warmhearted. Loved by all. Feared by her enemies. (In fact, I write an RP character who is partially inspired by Elsa and partially an infusion of my own personality, and to my own surprise, this character is on that exact path. Unconscious channeling much?) Maybe.. that’s exactly what she is now. The fact that I’m uncomfortable with this just development testifies that 1) she feels out of my control, which makes me feel vulnerable, which makes me feel angry and 2) I’ve at least partially idolized her for her job (queen) instead of her as a whole person Note that I’m not using the reasoning of “she belongs with Anna all the time” as a cause for my uneasiness. This is more about Elsa as a standalone character than their relationship. One, I’m not an Elsanna shipper, so the physical dislocation of two siblings doesn’t scream “heartbreaking” to me. It’s incredibly normal to have family you love with your entire heart and not live with them full-time, if at all. Maybe it’s because I’m the oldest sibling and can see this dynamic more clearly. Two, Elsa could not step into her new role if she didn’t have the unbreakable support system that is Anna behind her. If there was ANY doubt of their relationship’s strength, I’m positive Elsa wouldn’t leave her baby sister to rule alone. It’s not that they don’t need each other. On the contrary, and perhaps paradoxically, they need the other so much that the epilogue could not come to fruition if their bond wasn’t ironclad.  I’m still going to miss Elsa as queen. I’m not..... totally unconvinced that she’s not still a “queen,” someone with political leverage in Arendelle, as she’s still its protector and a royal by birthright. It hasn’t been ruled out that they’re co-rulers, just operating in different spheres. I’m waiting for more interviews/podcasts with Jen that I hope will address this detail. If not and Elsa’s technically a princess again, that’s cool too. She’s still part of the royal family and therefore can’t be a commoner or anything. But I wonder why I’m so hooked on her status as a queen, and I realize: it’s just a role. It’s not who she is. I’ve enjoyed it for the inflation of my own ego- seeing someone who’s like me in a position of leadership and reverence is incredibly validating. Watching her walk with beauty and grace as a beloved queen lets me live vicariously. But I have a working hypothesis that escapism in fictional characters is actually our attempt to connect with the real world better. I’ve so badly wanted her to remain queen because it validates ME. It helps ME believe that someone with her set of quirks and nuances can succeed. The issue isn’t with Elsa abdicating the throne- it’s with me assuming that she’s not herself if she’s not in a position of power, and then it throws my own identity into question.  And it admittedly has to do with the ambiguity of being the “fifth spirit.” I was worried Elsa would transform into a spirit being, or ghost, or ethereal creature that was no longer human. That doesn't happen, to as much as I understand the movie (she transforms her dress, steps onto a symbol that unites the four spirits, and then unfreezes after the dam breaks.... but there isn’t some spirit-world complete transformation of her essence.) The part of her that’s magic IS inhuman, which is self-evident (no other human in this universe has magic abilities LOL), but that’s not to say she’s inhuman.  I’ve also mentioned that I interpret this role as descriptive, not prescriptive. She was a gift to Iduna and Agnarr from birth. This is who she was meant to be from day 1- the potential was inside her the whole time, manifesting in the form of ice magic. I theorize she’s awakened into the 5th spirit role, but it was never something where she had to change in order to become it. (Now deeper lore, like how a 5th spirit existed when Agnarr was a kid and what subsequently happened to it, is still a mystery. I’m interpreting it to mean that the 5th spirit is a role of unification, not a spirit in and of itself. And once the forest became trapped, it dissipated by definition. Elsa was born to fulfill that lost role again, OR to be the first physical catalyst to hold it. Not to mention Anna is imperative here as well- they’re both the bridge.) Someone else mentioned that since their mother was Northuldra, Elsa’s actually among her own people. This is important too, I think. Imagine if Elsa went back to the castle canonically after all that happens. They’d be leaving a huge part of their family history out there, not to mention Ahtohallan which Elsa obviously has a mysterious connection with. I think if Elsa did go back to Arendelle permanently, we’d be having similar conversations in reverse by claiming that she really does belong near Ahtohallan and in nature with the spirits. We can’t win. She belongs in both places- among her family & among her predestined purpose. And she’s able to come and go among them both whenever she’d like. That’s her true independence. She’s FREE, wholehearted and integrated. I also mentioned in a previous post my penchant for a savior complex, probably stemming from my own issues with codependence and infatuation. I won’t get too far into those here again except to say: I liked “needy” Elsa because I wanted to envision myself as the one saving her. That’s my own thorn. It originates from a total infatuation with her that I’m still working on letting go (ha.) But I’m sure I’m not the only one who experiences this. It’s because she’s a character so meaningful to me that I care so much about her, even to an unhealthy degree. I know she’s not real. I know the fantasy of knowing her and “fixing” her is irrational, weird, unfounded, and impossible. But that’s ME, not her. Show Yourself, which is beautiful and emotional, unexpectedly made me feel a little sad to know she’s no longer aching to find herself. Maybe I want that kind of certainty for myself, especially as I’m on the cusp of finding a new job & moving. Maybe it’s my unhealthy fixation on her that wants her to remain insecure so that I can feel validated as her “protector” (again, weird and irrational. I can’t explain my brain’s projections.) Maybe it’s not as clear cut as I want it to be, and I just need to- brace yourselves- let it go. ; ) Granted I still have reservations about her new role, like how someone who was pampered all her life & is known for her pose & grace will adjust to essentially camping 24/7, but those are details and inherently flexible. You can’t say she doesn’t belong in the forest just because she’s not acclimated yet.  Now what I feel a lot of people feel unease over is the loss of the first movie’s ending. And by that I mean, we have to disregard our previous headcanon that Elsa remained queen for her lifetime. I mean, we assumed that for 6 whole years and had all that time to flourish in our creative exploits built on that premise. So it undoubtedly feels a little dissonant to have a sequel that goes “nope, not true.” I think that’s normal, and it’s the kind of thing that becomes accepted with time. Shifting our mental framework of Elsa & Anna’s respective futures will take some getting used to. Again, it doesn’t make it a bad ending (you’re free to think that, of course! But something unexpected =/= something bad.) tl;dr vuelie-frost has a lot of feelings and concerns that are pretty indicative of her own issues, not the movie’s. Frozen 2 isn’t perfect but a lot of my grief could be alleviated by focusing on my own projections and expectations, and shifting my perspective to be more open and accepting. You know how people say attitude is everything? It’s annoying but it’s true. And I mean, I still love this movie and want to buy all the merch and draw Elsa endlessly, so my love for the franchise is obviously still THRIVING

[thedarkmistress16]

Either Read This Unintelligible Reaction or Wait for the Spam of Mini Posts on SLN

THAT’S NOT AN ACTUAL BLOWTORCH SIR ARE YOU TRYING TO LIGHT YOUR BEARD ON FIRE

Oh no it’s the BOLD LINE ART STYLE I’M IN LOVE

These colors are so vibrant holy shit

It’s Lupin because same face structure.

HE SLIPPED IN TONE IT’S FUCKING LUPIN

KNEW IT

Holy shit it wasn’t even a mask aaahhhhh

HIS FACE CHANGED BACK TO THE INSPECTOR I LOVE THIS CHAOTIC ENERGY

THEY LITERALLY JUST ECHOED HIS VOICE IM REELING

Stretch Scissors tho. The new anime power move.

i’ll sue for whiplash boys (jokes aside this montage was fun)

Holy shit those sounds cutting in and out for comedic affect when discussing the inspector was cute

Bruh did that bigass tank just mow over a car, destroying it in a cloud of smoke, to follow lupin? that’s asserting jerk power right there

Fujiko just took a play out of re:cutie honey ova with that syringe

Lupin your being a public nuisance stop disrupting the customers w/ your woes

I’m worried too, Jigen

Are you fucking kidding me w/ that hat lupin

You shouldn’t be surprised; Fujiko’s betrayals happen every time when you two both want the same thing

that hat only had one purpose im in teARS

The water is gorgeous

OMG THE ZOOM OUT WAS WONDERFUL

The TRANSITION FROM DAY TO SUNSET TO DUSK TO NIGHT IS PERFECTLY EXECUTED

ugh the blues and oranges in this film are the best

For once I don’t mind the cg implementation in a 2d animated film

I’M IN LOVE WITH THESE CUTE SOUND EFFECTS ON TOP OF A QUIET SCENE. I like it better than having a soft, lighthearted instrumental in the bg. The sounds give off a diff. vibe than the music does and i am here for it

Jigen’s gunshot literally translated to: Back the fuck up bitch

Jigen still leaning out of the car with his gun out still and casually watching goemon XD

Ugh even the lightning is pretty what are you doing to me movie

Garlic is just zenigata’s character model but a punk ass bitch who thinks he can control the world with his big manly guns like f u

Drew’s character is literally just exposition and ‘YoUr OUt of YoUr mIND LuPIN!’

Love the over-layer of  fog

oof that backstory

Much yes to those destruction montage cuts (can one be the cover art for the movie plz? It sums up the franchise beautifully XD)

what a copout jigen XD

AAAHHH HE TOOK THE SNIPER

oh noes his hat flew off

Goemon bro you didn’t have to terrify the poor guy like that

I think Jigen’s the only one who doesn’t know pops lost his memory at this point

A wild magic lamp just emerged and fUCKING KIDNAPPED GOEMON NOOOOOO

pfft it’s amazing how that fucking tank can float regardless of the inflatable part

these color change fades LiKE FUCK ME IT’S SO GOOD

TO: DAY/NIGHT CYCLE AND WEATHER, I LOVE YOU SM IN THIS FILM

This man is so extra i love it

This bedroom is so vibrant wow

Oh my goodness the residency has pink as the trim color to the white base with gold accents who allowed this movie to be so oddly beautiful??

wHY THE FUK IS THAT GUN A LIGHTER JIGEN I’m STILL NOT OVER IT

Zeni brO (poor boy’s going through an existential crisis now)

why are even the sewer bricks/stones prettyy

Jigen’s yellow phone lol

okay wTF DREW

OH SHIT GOEMON

Excluding Goodbye Partner, Lupin cannot trust anyone except Jigen with his life and trust like ever (maybe zenigata too) and im so upset at this revelation

Okay that bonk was funny I’ll give goemon that

Goemon you have been swayed to the dark side and all of your arguments are invalid

Did Drew kill her brother tho

Damn lupin ain’t even mad

Soldiers of peace? Then why do they have GUNS, DOCTOR?!!?

Omg lupin’s growl is adorbs

Awwe he’s like a puppy asking Drew to take the leash off that’s too fucking cute

All right so Drew is doing this to find her brother who may or may nor be alive but the doctor is holding that over her head so she cooperates that is my final hypothesis

fuck it UP, jigen!!

AAAHH HE’S STEALING HER AWAY AND DIDN’T EVEN GET IN THE CAR LOLOL

Jigen said lupin is a monkey which lupin can’t defend nor deny because he is XD

I’m guessing Lupin will forget Drew but have one piece of her with him as a reminder which he may or may not toss into the wind as a farewell to this story.

I can’t take this seriously with a Hot Lip boat but yet I do cuz im so invested now at this point that it’s not even fazing me

Is Drew’s brother in that cave?

Jigen didn’t hesitate to get into goemon’s face huh

PppffffFFttt he pulled a goemon (i live for this motif)

Lol this is the second movie I’ve seen where fujiko’s door bomb render useless against the steel/iron door hidden behind the regular one

Wtf aDAM get out of here with your awesome blue eyes

Awwww noooo in her heart i cannn’t

Poor fujiko in tattered prison outfit. I’d be worn out after experiencing whiplash ensued from an unwanted helicopter ride, too.

Aaaaaaa his wish and he threw the lamp that reminded him of her away cuz the memory of the kiss was all he needed my feELS

I love how lupins just floating like a plank of wood like he’s not denser than the water

Zenis a hobo now oh my goodness

Omg the most cliche slip for a cute zeni before the amnesia-remedying head bonk and jigen knew what the fuck happened as he inched toward the car door and lupin doesn’t even get into the car he just hangs on the door as they drive off i fucking love this franchise

[siderealtaurus]

Little Astro Things You May Not Have Heard Before

PART 1

Geminis have sharply angled jaws from the side view with a little cleft in their chin. Their arms are long and the back of their skull is kinda flat.

Cancers have really defined lips, whether big or small

Scorpios have gummy smiles and baby looking teeth

Earth signs and water signs have really round and sturdy looking skulls , unless influenced heavily by an air or fire sign (through dominants and aspects).

The Midheaven at its most natural state is meant to be in a square from the Ascendant and descendant. The Ascendant and midheaven should never be more than or less than a square away from the midheaven. This is because the Natal Chart is settled on a perfect 360 axis where it has 4 major angles setting its basic shape up; 360 divided by 4 would give us 4 perfectly aligned 90 degree angled points (MC, IC, ASC, DSC) but of course no chart can be “perfectly perfect” so many people will have interceptions: where the midheaven is sometimes more or less than a square away from the Ascendant. This is why we see some people having their Ascendant and midheaven only being 2 signs apart or even as far as 5 signs apart.

earth signs often have very small and flat foreheads with a slope

Air signs usually have very high foreheads (the hairline is far from the eyebrows)

Water signs typically have high and flat foreheads

Fire signs have small but round foreheads

Aries rules the ears and the facial features (natural resonators) so they are often at the peak of being just as good with music and instruments like Venusian ruled Taurus and Libra

Many performers have their 10th house ruler (Midheaven ruler) in the 7th house

Actors have the 10th house ruler in the 12th house

Mutable signs’ calves lots of times have a curve to them, like a bowl-legged or bow-legged however you call it lol

Earth signs have really long necks and very long natural hair

Libras (and other cardinal signs) often have a softened rectangular or oval face shape

Leos have defined canine teeth

In Esoteric astrology, Uranus Neptune and Pluto are associated with Zeus Poseidon and Hades respectively and are considered the Big Three because they hold an intense amount of staying power in a person’s life when aspected greatly.

North Node in the 1st, 2nd, 3rd or 4th indicates minimal fame but fame nonetheless

North Node in the 9th, 10th, 11th, or 12th indicates more widespread fame

Having a water house Stellium (4th, 8th, 12th) makes you more likely to accumulate wealth in this lifetime

Jupiter in the 9th, 10th, 11th , 12th makes you more likely to be recognized for your talents in this lifetime

Having Mars or Neptune on an angle makes you more inclined to being a good dancer/take dancing seriously

Technically, Capricorn rising is the Ascendant in exaltation. Libra rising is the Ascendant in detriment. Cancer rising is the Ascendant in fall. Many wealthy and renowned people have a cardinal rising because they are able to overcome more mentally than the rest of us.

The asteroid conjunct your sun at birth can indicate any health issues you can develop in this lifetime

Gemini is Mercury as a child, excitable and willing to know more of the surrounding world. Virgo is Mercury as an adult, deep in thought and not so open to new ideas but still free thinking and willing to research until their wisdom dies out.

Uranus-MC = long term success after climbing

Inconjunct/quincunx couples stand the test of time when they work through their differences moreso than semi-sextile couples. When the semi-sextile couple works through their differences, there is so much frustration because they can see clearly the many similarities they share but even the slightest difference btw them just makes them lost all over. The quincunx couples see some similarities but many differences which allows them a broader space to map newly shared interests INTO the relationship as time progresses.

Sign placements are of least importance in examining a synastry chart. First look at house placements, then secondly look at Aspects, then look at sign placements lastly.

Juno in Earth signs love to dance with their partners

A harmonic chart is a detailed examination of the minor aspects in your chart. A conjunction in the 5th harmonic chart is actually a quintile in the regular natal chart. A conjunction in the 7th harmonic chart is actually a septile in the regular natal chart. 8th harmonic conjunctions are octiles. 9th harmonic conjunctions are noviles. 10th harmonic conjunctions are deciles. And so on so forth with other harmonics. Reasonably, you should only go up to the 36th harmonic but some go as far the 100s but I honestly don’t even know what they’d be looking at at that point.

You should take fixed stars into account for a karmic stellium, conjunctions only of course.

A sesquiquadrate is basically a softened (really weak) mixture of a trine and a quincunx. It’s not good or bad and, in that sense, has a 50/50 deal to it like a conjunction, though it does resemble the trine and quincunx more in aspect. However, if you can’t find information on a sesquiquadrate aspect, it would be wise to examine the conjunction of that aspect first then look at the the trine. Make a watered down hypothesis of the sesquiquadrate aspect after this.

Earth and Fire signs are personal, Air and Water signs are interpersonal

In Vedic astrology, Rahu is the North Node, Ketu is the South Node, Lagna is the Ascendant, and D1, D2, D3, etc are simply referring to your different harmonic charts. So D7 would be the 7th harmonic chart, which shows septiles in the Natal Chart. Rashi refers to the houses.

In Vedic astrology, the natal Navamsa Chart is the indicator of soulmates and marriage. They say to check it to find out more about your future marriage. In Western astrology, we call the Navamsa Chart the 9th harmonic chart.

In your Navamsa Chart, a planet (or planets) that is in the SAME house as it is in your Lagna (Natal Ascendant) Chart is considered to be the most powerful in your chart. Similar to a dominant planet, it is called the vargottma and your destiny is tied to this planet (or planets). This is even more powerful and significant if the planet(s) are with Rahu (North Node).

Realistically, Aspects between venus and mars are NOT indicators of marriage/lifetime commitment. In western astrology, the idealistic views of Venus and Mars have become too inflated; even in Ancient Greek and Rome, many did not correlate marriage with the two frivolous entities of Venus and Mars. They are related more to general love and lust than the more specified love and lust that is present in marriage. You would look to the Moon, Jupiter, Saturn, and Juno for marriage between two people. All four are the basis for stability and compromising in relationships, albeit in different mannerisms. Venus and Mars are secondary to them in all aspects.

The ruler of the 1st and the ruler of the 10th are typically in the same house in the charts of celebrities.

Saturn and Jupiter both in the 1st house people are often very lean and slender

In Vedic astrology, Nakshatras (using sidereal measurements) take up the entire zodiac in 27 divisions. For example, I am Mrigasira Nakshatra Ascendant bc I was born from 23-20’ Taurus to 6-40’ Gemini in Vedic. I am Revati moon because I was born from 16-40’ Pisces to 30 Pisces. It’s confusing at first but super easy to understand if you just google it lol.

[arbitrarygreay]