#anyway have another kenneth

[nostalgia-tblr]

Between the Sylki Arranged Marriage AU and the Sylki Adultery AU and the thing I wrote for Sifki Week I feel like you and I are seeing into the parallel timeline where I am a successful yet reclusive author of filthy historical novels where the words "manhood" and "seed" get used more than they should (i.e. more than never) BUT the underwear that's being cast off in a lust-filled frenzy would be mostly accurate, and I'd be avoiding Goodreads in case I found out that this was not the secret behind the sales of what the supermarket book aisles advertise as "like Alison Weir but the characters fuck at least once every three chapters."

[swallowtail-ageha]

Anyways today i replayed castle morne and i want to brainvomit a bit about it because i genuinely think its brilliant in both buildup and execution of themes, and especially as a way to denounce the supposed righteousness and the imperialism of the Golden Order so early in the game

(Putting a cut because holy moly its long. Also i apologize in advance for the run along sentences)

You first reach the weeping peninsula and the first npc you speak to is Irina. She is standing alone, without any weapon and blind, in the middle of a bunch of her family's garrison's corpses (and i think that the fact that the models used are the models of soldiers of godrick, whom thanks to Kenneth Height we know are particularly cruel to demihumans and the likes, is significant). As she herself says, she is being hunted down: her family's servants have rebelled and her father corageously stayed there to keep the postation and the home's ancestral sword, while she had been ambushed and her garrison died to save her.

And this is the perfect set up for people who are less genre savy and expect a more linear story, where the young girl and the kind father have been kicked out by the intrinsically evil, inhuman creatures that don't look human and don't seem to be very intelligent, and where the kind knight helps them to defeat the big bad leader of those creatures to take their castle back. Good ending!

Alas, it isn't like that. If you have already finished Kenneth's questline before, the whole setup feels weird. With the injustice that had been inflicted on the demihumans by the common soldiers, we already have the seed of doubt regarding the whole righteousness of the situation. As deformed and weird they might look like, demihumans, and therefore misbegottens too, are also people with thoughts and social structures and that maybe using them as mindless workforce is wrong.

Upon reaching the castle's walls, you are faced with a sword memorial, and if you read it you are smacked in the face with another revelation: the castle hasn't been built by irina's family and didn't actually belong to them, but instead has been taken by force by Godfrey's forces after he had slaughtered the previous clan that had it and even its last survivor who had made a desperate last stand in vengeance. Irina's whole narrative suddenly becomes even more shady.

Anyways, you finally enter Castle Morne, and the first sight you stumble upon is an horrific one: hundreds of corpses set in a pile on which several misbegottens are standing triumphantly. On the rampartarts household soldiers and other misbegotten are still fighting. Of course, again, if you take the whole narrative at face value, without reflecting on the sword memorial and Kenneth's questline, you might be still thinking that the whole situation was still black and white. However there are two, definitive moments that shatter that illusion, one more overt, the other less, but still as powerful

The first moment is finding Irina's father, Edgar, the castellan. One would think that, at least, you'd find him surrounded by corpses (i don't say in battle for obvious npc logistic reasons). And yet no. He is alone, sitting in a secluded place of the ramparts, with no signs of battle around.

Then he speaks: we learn respectively three things

-His main goal is to keep the castle (however he doesn't seem like he's done much fighting and only takes action once we go to kill the rebel leader ourselves. Fittingly enough, even fighting him as an invasor is extremely easy), but not because of any strategic importance or sentimental value. No. The reason why he's protecting it is to not permit that the heirloom of the caslte, the grafted blade greatsword, whom was forged by the Hero of Castle Morne as a tool of vengeance and has likely been kept around as a symbol of Godfrey's mightiness for having defeated him. The whole thing comes less as something about honor and more as something about simple vanity, or, better, about keeping intact the superiority of the Golden Order towards his opposers, something that cannot fall in the hands of such things as misbegotten (proof of that is also the ghost of the noble begging to not be eaten by them as he's nobility and doesnt want to get sullied by their lowlyness)

And

-That he is a Godrick loyalist and has been placed in the castle by him (therefore the idea that the family has been living there for long is rendered moot), and 3) that he is sickeningly racist towards misbegotten.

These two last points, now, have made your alarm bells ringing non stop. Maybe if this is the guy who is allied with a man who is known for his cruelty and maybe if he's so hostile against misbegotten, perhaps they had a good reason to rebel like that.

This brings us to the second moment:

After speaking with Edgar, you go in the back of the castle and reach the gaol section of the structure. As we can see, they are dirty, tight, and cramped. But most importantly, we find there a whip, which was specifically built as a way to torture and punish servants for their slightest disobedience. This is the final piece of the puzzle of *what* caused the misbegotten to rebel: not envy or any intrinsical evil, just the hellish condition that they were put in. One really can't blame them for organizing and revolting against their slavers.

You can see the leader of the revolt from afar, sitting in the grave of the hero's clan, having him too become the hero, for he in the name of vengeance for his species treatment started a rebellion.

But in the end, he'll have the same destiny as the Hero Of Morne.

You reach the Leonine Misbegotten and you kill him (perhaps even with the help of his slaveowner!) but the mood after the fight isn't triumphant. You stand alone, light rain is falling, the music is somber, in a massive graveyard dedicated to the one who lost his entire family to the golden order's imperialism, after killing his spiritual successor, perhaps even his descendant. You successfully put down a slave revolt for nothing, as the reason you did all of this, Irina, unbeknownst to you, has already been long dead by the time you take the castle back, killed by the same species whom her family exploited (The name of the site of grace of the graveyard, the Gravemoaning of Morne, really is fitting).

Her death prompts Edgar, the father, the lord of Castle Morne, the slave master, to start his own futile journey of revenge, becoming in the meanwhile too the Hero, bringing the story full circle

[blasphemousclaw]

i think rykard had a tendency to disregard formality except as Ritual or as Political Ambition, like as just a headcanon. the way he marries tanith and deeply adores and confides in her, when a lot of her descriptions emphasize the potential gulf in social power between them (drawing on a lot of tropes heavily associated with the character of Lowborn Sex Worker Consort) and how he held a disregard for the way the Golden Order handles itself (creating a strict orderly hierarchy of power between its peoples and appropriate mannerisms between one class and another (see the pages and how kenneth haight talks)) and how he has a studious scholalry streak from his archeology at mt gelmir and his sorceries, i can see him as being this larger than life figure who takes the formality inherent to ritual worship and power and really pushes that to its limit to get the kost bang for his buck, just going all in, which builds up this idea of a figure out of legend, and then its immediately contrasted by a frank, casual manner of speaking outside of those circumstances, a way where he holds himself as a singularly powerful lord but despite that hes easy to talk to, and he values the opinions and ideas of those who would normally be his "lessers" or "beneath him" and takes them seriously and treats them with respect

a lord who takes counsel from prince and pauper alike, who married a dancer, who speaks bluntly and without shame but encourages others to do so as well, who embraces the blasphemous and heretical such that you never feel you have to hide anything from him, but when he conducts a ceremony for the great serpent its like the whole world stops to bend its ear for the way he channels such power and authority that you cant help but believe that hes truly something different from all of you, and yet despite this you speak freely to him anyways. such a man could inspire ruthless loyalty to the bitter end with ease, throughout the most horrible of wars, all until it hits that critical breaking point of the serpent, and even then some still cant bring themselves to break away from him

ok theres ABSOLUTELY a theme of repudiating the conventions of nobility and class with Rykard… I think his belief system is based on the idea that the gods are no better than mortals, and they have no inherent divine right to rule: “When Rykard turned to heresy, taking by force became the rule. The gods were no different, after all.” The gods “take by force” just like any common mortal tyrant, so why should we accept that they have an inherent authority over us? There’s this theme of seizing one’s own fate and taking power for oneself — like Bernahl calling out to the Greater Will directly that “we refuse to become your pawns” — which I think would be really inspiring to like, a common soldier who’s felt disrespected and taken for granted all their life. Though Rykard is as noble as they come, he too is fighting against a suffocating Order. Tanith explicitly likens the plight of ordinary Tarnished to the Shardbearers… they’re all made to “scurry about, fighting over what miserly scraps they allow us.”

Speaking of Tanith, Rykard making her his consort is such a deliberate political statement? Lords like Kenneth Haight would no doubt look down on her because of her commoner foreigner background, like he even calls Godrick, a demigod, a “country bumpkin!” Marrying Tanith instead of someone from Erdtree nobility shows that Rykard doesn’t care at all about established class structure… why is Tanith any less worthy than an Erdtree noble? I think Tanith is speaking from experience when she says this about Rya: “Besides, no-one should be blamed for their heritage. Think about it. We are resisting the ways of the Erdtree itself. What matters one's lineage in such a crisis.”

basically one of Rykard’s blasphemous beliefs is that the gods are only gods because they are strong enough to stay in power and keep people under their control. he would have a society where every person is the master of their own fate. at least I think that’s what his followers thought before he fed himself to a serpent god and started eating people

[wolveria]

The Anomaly Archives - Reality #004

AU of The Raven's Hymn

Pairing: SCP-035 x Reader

Chapter Warnings: Dubious consent, mind sex, tentacle sex, vaginal sex, 035 being 035

AO3

You gasped in a breath and automatically reached for your face. You patted down your forehead, your cheeks, even your nose and mouth. All you felt was sweat-slicked skin, too warm, but you ran hot after waking up.

Normal. Everything was normal. There was no reason to believe otherwise, because nothing ever changed no matter how long they kept you in this room.

Or rather, how long the Site Director kept you in this room. There was really only one man responsible, but you could blame the whole damn Foundation if you liked.

Your daily routine was a simple one: drink water out of the sink, relieve yourself, stretch, eat breakfast, exercise within the limited space, shower, get dressed, and most important of all, ignore the bastard in the center of the room until it was time to take him out.

Until instructed, you refused to look at the pedestal that seemed to mock you no matter where you stood or what angle you viewed it, should you make the mistake of letting your eyes wander.

You could only drag on the morning ritual for so long before they started making demands through the intercom, but at least you had a few moments to yourself before you had to share the privacy of your innermost thoughts with someone who didn’t know the definition of decency, respect, or anything that didn’t directly involve his entertainment.

Instructions were given, and you approached the pedestal and lifted the glass. The porcelain theater mask stared up at you as it always did, greeting you in a wide, jovial smile. It had no teeth, but you imagined them under the surface, bared and eager to sink into exposed flesh.

It was fortunate you were immune to his bites. If anything, you were the muzzle.

As you slipped on the mask, all of the influence it exerted on its environment, seen in the way it leaked black ooze, and unseen in how it eventually enslaved anyone in close proximity, came to an immediate stop.

SCP-035 was now an inert piece of theater costume.

Well, at least to anyone who wasn’t you.

Morning sunshine, he purred from inside your head. Took you long enough. You’re almost thirty seconds late.

“How would you know,” you muttered. You could respond to him completely in your own head, but you hated doing that. Made everything feel more intrusive than it already was, which was a lot, and at least this way you felt a degree less crazy. And having half of the conversation out loud put a barrier of separation between you and showed 035 that he was not welcome in your head.

You would be surprised the things I know.

When you didn’t take the bait, he continued on anyway, because his own voice was reason enough to keep talking.

Take, for example, your little friend with the long hair. Kaiju? Kirby?

“Kenneth.”

Half the time he falls asleep during the overnight observation detail. Richard got a mark on his record for trying to order whale jizz from 294. And Lucy from Pathology Section 3 and Phebe from Comm Sector in Light Containment? They’re definitely fucking.

You blinked—not because interdepartmental sex was going on, or that another idiot had tried to request cum out of the anomalous vending machine, or that Kenneth was once again napping on his shift, but… because of the fact 035 bothered to pay attention.

After a few seconds of thinking, which wasn’t easy when someone sat in your brain trying to metaphorically look over your shoulder to see what you were thinking, you said, “You’re bored.”

No shit.

You slowly paced the length of the cell, looking down at the progress your feet made without truly seeing them.

“I mean, you’re really bored,” you pressed. “And it’s getting to you.”

035 said nothing. That wasn’t a good sign, the bastard always had something to say.

Finally, in a flat tone, he said, There’s only so much petty human drama I can watch. Only so many small, dull lives I can overhear before I feel the incredible urge to crush you all like the pathetic microbes you are. And then, maybe, after I’m done ripping out spinal columns and crushing all that wasted grey matter into paste, I can finally get some fucking silence where I don’t have to listen to every stupid thought that escapes every minuscule brain in this shit-parade!

You waited until he seemed done with his tantrum.

“That bad, huh?”

You sensed the mental equivalent of a sigh.

It’s like a radio receiver that’s tuned into every station and blaring all the channels at once. All 2,518 of them. And they only play shitty music on repeat.

You’d known 035 could tune into people’s thoughts, but you didn’t know he couldn’t control it. That did sound kind of bad.

It is.

“What did I say?” you growled.

Sorry, sweetheart. Old habits.

You rolled your eyes but let it pass. You tried to hold conversations verbally, but sometimes a thought slipped through, and 035 was supposed to ignore errant thoughts and respond only to spoken words.

Funnily enough, most of the time he did follow the agreement. It proved more than anything how bored he was, that he would continue this arrangement and not piss you off too badly, because wearing 035 was the only time he got to connect with senses to experience the world.

Even if it was only from the inside of a concrete cell, that seemed to mean something to him. And ever since you had been accidentally locked in with SCP-049 and the Site Director discovered you had some kind of immunity to SCPs, your life had been one nightmare after another. Test after test, SCP after SCP, and Leahy had settled on permanent residency for you and 035.

Leahy had said it was a containment measure for the mask, not a punishment for you, but it was starting to feel like punishment for you both. Because while 035 had his powers suppressed when you wore him, including no longer having to hear the thoughts of everyone in Site-20, it apparently made it harder for him to ignore them at night when you slept and didn’t wear the mask.

That was the one request Leahy had agreed to. You didn’t want to sleep with the mask on, and the Site Director didn’t seem keen on 035 having access to your body while you were unconscious.

But that was the one allowance you were given. You couldn’t leave the room, or have any visitors, and the only change in routine was when the researchers gave you new questions to ask 035. Whether or not he would answer them seemed to depend on how funny he could make his answer.

You laid on the bed and stared at the ceiling, blowing out a long breath. Without you wearing the mask, ooze would be dripping from his eyes and mouth. He seemed agitated enough that there could have even been a few tentacles sprouting around the room too. They hadn’t made an appearance yet at Site-20, but you’d seen the footage of the Site-19 breach. 035 could turn a room into an inhospitable alien landscape in under an hour.

What if you asked about the TV again? he mused, and you could practically see the finger stroking his chin.

“They won’t go for it.”

I can’t mind-control a fucking TV.

“You think this is easy for me?” you asked sharply, cutting through his bullshit. “That I don’t get bored too?”

You tried to rest your arm over your face, then stopped when you bumped into the mask. Sighing, you folded your hands over your stomach and closed your eyes, but that just made 035’s presence in your head larger, almost tangible, so you opened them again and glared up at the concrete ceiling.

I know you do, darling.

Oh, he was trying for soft and sweet today. That was always entertaining, right up until he remembered it wouldn’t work and his wry sarcasm mocked you for something trivial and petty. That was almost a routine too.

Whatever. He could suck it up and deal with the boredom. It wasn’t as if either if you could change it anyway.

A new round of tests left you hollow and aching, and when you were returned to 035’s cell, you were surprised to find the mask had begun to leak black ooze from its eyes and mouth.

You went straight to the bed, ready to curl up for a nap, but the intercom ordered you to put on the mask. It must have still been the day cycle then, and you begrudgingly lifted the glass. You’d already tested what would happen if you disobeyed orders, and the last time you’d refused to wear the mask, the floor had been electrified and shocked you straight through your thin socks.

So, you wouldn’t be doing that again. As soon as you touched the mask, the black ooze vanished as if evaporated away. Wearily, you placed the ceramic piece against your face, and once it stuck, you laid down on your meager bed and shut your eyes.

“Don’t,” you muttered, sensing 035 nudging at your thoughts.

You’ve been gone for two days, love. Can’t blame me for being worried.

Had it been so long? That explained the ooze.

Oh, yes, I wept for your return, but the cruel jailors wouldn’t return you to me.

You stayed quiet and stared blankly at the wall.

Not even going to engage me in witty banter?

“No.”

All you could see was a young girl, kept alone in isolation, crying when you were eventually ordered to leave. You couldn’t even promise her you’d come back.

You know, it’s only the two of us, so it’s quite rude to—

“Fuck off.”

035 went silent, and he stayed that way. You couldn’t remember a time when he’d actually listened to you, and you savored it, eyes fixed on the wall as you let the hollowness eat at you in a way 035’s secretions never could.

After the second round of tests, you stumbled into 035’s chamber, catching yourself on the pedestal as your knees wobbled. Your neck ached, the bandage around it old, soft linen. You guessed it had come from 049’s bag, as you’d woken up on his autopsy table, your last memory of SCP-173 staring at the corner before you’d been forced to lower a blinded helmet over your head.

049’s soft gaze was a surprise, and his concern followed you as he was forced into the inner chamber, security taking you away, back to 035’s cell. Whatever 173 had done to you, it was bad enough the Site Director had ordered 049 to medically treat you.

You hadn’t even had time to thank him before they’d dragged you away, and you felt sick, your eyes shut tight against the images. It wasn’t only 173 that haunted you. 106’s leering grin and the hunger in his eyes lingered on your flesh, and all you wanted to do was take a shower.

But 035’s mask was leaking worse than last time, and after being ordered through the intercom again, you placed the mask on your face and crawled into bed, pulling the blankets up to your chin.

The first tremble was mild, but it was followed by another, and another, until you were a shaking mess, biting the blanket so you wouldn’t whimper.

Shhhh.

You automatically balked against the presence in your head, but 035 didn’t barge in with his intruding presence as he usually did. He was being careful, almost gentle, and if you’d been in a better frame of mind you would have told him to fuck off again.

Instead, when something warmed your cheek, like a caressing hand, you closed your eyes and relented. It felt… surprisingly good.

That’s it, 035 crooned softly. You have nothing to fear now.

But you did. The staircase that led downward with no end. The crying man who wasn’t really a man. 173 with its incurable hatred, and 106 with his more calculating version of the same wish to tear you apart.

The staircase can’t move, Skinny doesn’t want to hurt you, and the other two assholes can’t. Although, it looks like Peanut gave it the old college try.

“Who?”

You’re safe here, he reaffirmed, ignoring you. Another sensation joined the warmth on your cheek—a ripple down your spine, like someone was petting a hand down your back.

You thought about shaking it off, you didn’t know how 035 was touching you like this, and it should freak you out. But it felt nice, and if he tried anything weird, you could always take off the mask. That would be the worst kind of punishment for him, being cut off from all physical sensation, so you knew he would behave.

Safe as houses, he added, his voice low and smooth. You’d been so accustomed to his over-the-top showmanship that it was strange to hear him talk like this. Almost normal.

Safe as houses. You’d never really understood that phrase.

Me neither. Houses can have termites, black mold, or explode to a natural gas leak that has already killed the entire family—

“You’re not helping,” you said out loud, and you could practically feel 035’s smugness.

You’re not shaking anymore.

It was true.

Bastard.

The third experiment—which hadn’t been a test at all but a failed execution order—left you nauseous and bleary-eyed. You thought your blurred vision was deceiving you, but as you drew closer, you realized your eyes weren’t playing tricks.

Thick black viscous liquid trailed down the pedestal to the floor, worse than any other time you’d left, and you hadn’t been gone more than a few hours.

The light was dim, indicating the night cycle, but you didn’t wait for the intercom instruction. By the advanced state of decay leaking from the mask, you figured they would break the routine of giving you a nighttime respite

That was fine. Right now, you didn’t want to be alone, even if your only company was a sarcastic disembodied voice that couldn’t take anything seriously.

Just as before, as soon as you touched the mask the ooze vanished from its polished, white surface, but the oily substance dripping down the pedestal stained its surface. They would have to send D-Class in tomorrow in biohazard suits to clean up the mess, but that wasn’t your problem.

035’s presence filled your mind, and though you would never admit it, it was better than being alone. You curled up on the bed over the covers, shivering and too hot at the same time.

Mmm, 035 hummed in your head. I always suspected they’d kept 682 alive. He’s very hard to kill.

“So I’ve heard,” you said dryly, your voice muffled by the sheets. You shuddered, and by the intensity of it you knew there would be more following. You couldn’t get it out of your head, seeing the reptile anomaly being ripped apart and stretched inside-out again and again.

He was still there, right now, endearing torture that would destroy anyone after a few seconds. Maybe you should have tried. Maybe killing him would have been the merciful thing—

None of that.

Just as before, you sensed the warmth layering over your skin, soothing an ache you didn’t understand.

“035…”

You’re wound too tight. You’re gonna snap one of these days, and trust me, that’s going to suck for both of us.

You frowned. What did that mean?

Just… let me try something. If you hate it, you can dash me against the wall and step on me.

“You’d like that.”

He laughed. It reverberated through you in a funny, tingling sensation.

Come on, he said, warmth in his voice that actually felt genuine. What’s the worst that can happen?

A shit ton, for starters.

“You’re not taking over my body.”

Nah. You’ll have full control.

The warm ripple moved up your back again, and you closed your eyes as you tried not to shiver.

Just more of that. A simple massage, that’s all. I promise.

You didn’t respond, shifting onto your back to stare at the ceiling. This was a bad idea.

That’s how you know it’ll be good.

“That doesn’t even make sense!”

035 let the silence stretch between you, and okay, maybe he had a point about being so fucking stressed you were probably going to maul the next person you laid eyes on.

“Fine,” you said in a quiet huff. “But stop when I say. And don’t get weird.”

Yes, sir. Right away, sir.

You rolled your eyes but then closed them, resting the back of your wrist at the top of your head since you couldn’t touch your face. You imagined 035 would start gradually, like any normal fucking person would when giving a massage, and that was your first mistake.

Heat flooded through your body in a wave, like a dozen vague hands were caressing your skin under your clothes, and you nearly kicked the blanket off the bed.

You hissed through your teeth, “S-slow down!” trying to keep it at a whisper so you wouldn’t draw attention from the other side of the observation glass.

They’re not paying attention, 035 said, amusement laced in his words. Was that too much for you, sweetheart?

You glared up at the ceiling. He would get your point.

He sighed, and the intense feeling floated away, replaced by something more pinpointed and focused. It was scattered at first, and then solidified into what felt like a hand on your arm. You had to looked down to make sure someone wasn’t actually touching you, but you were still physically alone in the room.

“It feels… real,” you said doubtfully.

It is, he agreed. In a way. The only reason you feel anything by touch is due to synapses in your brain. I’m simply plucking away at them. I used to be quite the harpsichord player. It’s no different than that, if one knows what they’re doing.

“Uh-huh,” you muttered under your breath. It was getting harder to pay attention when a second “hand” joined the first, both of them rubbing up and down your arms. You didn’t think playing an instrument could possibly be the same as playing with someone’s brain, and you really shouldn’t be letting him do this, but…

But…

Relax, he purred. This won’t work otherwise.

You blew out a breath and let your eyes close again. It did feel really good, and he was keeping his hands—for lack of a better word—in the safe zones.

But it didn’t feel entirely safe the way the hands wrapped around your throat, and you tensed, but his touch remained gentle. He kneaded the nape of your neck, and you melted like warm butter, tilting back your head as if he needed a better angle.

Something… changed. Like a switch being flipped. You’d thought it felt real before, but it paled in comparison as a weight settled over you, a warm body pressing you into the thin mattress. His hands traveled upward to cup your face, not letting you move as his mouth covered yours.

You froze, afraid for a moment that someone else was there, had slipped into the room when you weren’t paying attention, but you could breathe through the kiss. No one was actually there, it was only him.

Before you could panic, 035 broke the kiss, but he didn’t let you go or move off of you.

Don’t open your eyes, he whispered across your thoughts. Don’t break the illusion.

You sensed what he wasn’t saying. Once in a while, emotions would bleed through the barrier, much more easily from your side than his. But sometimes, when he was feeling particularly strong about something, you caught a glimpse of it. Normally what you felt from him was rage at being imprisoned, but this wasn’t that, and the force of it hit you like a storm.

Aching, yearning, desire always denied, it slammed into you and through you, leaving you bare and open.

This time, when he kissed you, you didn’t reject it.

Warmth settled over and around you, leaving you surrounded by sensation on all sides. It was good, really good, but it wasn’t enough. You needed more of that sensation, enough to drown out the fear and loneliness and isolation. You wanted to feel safe.

You’re safe with me, he said, reading your thoughts as fast as you could think them. No one will touch you again.

You could almost believe it. Wanted to believe it. But he had no more control over the tests than you did.

Let me worry about that, he purred, the words caressing over your mind. You really should yell at him for continually reading your thoughts, but you were preoccupied by the unseen pressure of hands on your hips.

Your clothes weren’t really a barrier, but you still wanted them off. Slipping under the covers, you yanked down your leggings and underwear, and hiked up your gown so it bunched around your waist.

035 didn’t need another invitation; pressure delved between your legs, focused and intense, and you grit your teeth to keep from making a noise. So many sensations at once, too many to parse, like there were fingers plying you apart and a mouth latched over your clit, while something else prodded at your entrance.

It was too much but you still spread your legs wide, fisting the sheets for something to hold onto.

That’s it, sweetheart, the honeyed voice whispered in your ear. Surrender to me…

Even while being fingered and eaten out and about to be fucked by something that felt like a cock, you held onto your mental defenses. He could have your body, but he couldn’t have you. 035 wasn’t like most of the other SCPs, most of which were rendered powerless at your touch.

035 was bridled when you wore him, but he wasn’t powerless, even now. He was different from the rest, and you suspected out of all of the anomalies in the facility, he was the most dangerous. Whatever he was, he wasn’t just an SCP—no matter how much he pretended he was only a sentient mask.

Your thoughts were wandering again, and you sensed his amusement at trying to keep him out even while you groaned softly at the back of your throat. You were dripping into the bedspread, so wet you could hear it as he played with you, keeping you just at the edge and not allowing you to spill over.

“035…”

That’s not my name.

You trembled as he dragged his “tongue” along your clit, the prodding pressure at your entrance unbearably teasing.

“I don’t… know your name,” you choked out.

Do you want to?

No. Maybe. You didn’t know—

You trembled as he delivered a cruel flick to your clit, and then you groaned in frustration as he pulled away almost entirely. The pressure of fingers spreading your labia kept you suspended in trembling anticipation, but the sensations on your clit and entrance were gone. So was the comforting weight on your body.

You broke out into a sweat, grinding your teeth so you wouldn’t beg him to continue, but it didn’t matter if you stayed silent with how you were broadcasting desperation in every thought.

“Fine,” you gasped aloud. “Tell me your name.”

Anything to get that feeling back, for him to stop teasing you and finish what he started, but you sensed him hovering just out of reach—you could almost see the amused smile behind the mask.

Even though your eyes were already closed, you squeezed them shut.

Please?

Your silent plea reverberated back at you with a sense of satisfaction, along with a wave of desire that was poorly disguised. At least you weren’t the only one whose emotions kept leaking through the mental barriers.

The weight on your body returned, and heat warmed the side of your face as 035 whispered in your ear.

Dýo.

Something massive pushed against your entrance, and then breached it with a determined thrust. You opened your mouth to cry out, but 035 gripped your jaw and forced it closed as you twitched against his hold. And he was holding you down, trapped against the bed as he slid further inside, stretching you open until you thought you’d go crazy.

You tried to close your legs on reflex, but your ankles were pressed firmly to the mattress, along with your wrists, by something flexible and strong. And when they touched your skin, there wasn’t just pressure, there was texture and real heat.

Panic shot through you like a jolt, and you opened your eyes, twisting your head down to look at yourself. The covers blocked your view, but you could see the shape of flexible appendages holding you down. 035 shouldn’t be able to summon them while you were wearing him, and they only appeared during advanced stages of decay.

Shhh, he hushed you in what might have been a genuine attempt to comfort except for the mockery on the edges. I said you were safe. I wouldn’t lie about that.

You opened your mouth to shout in warning to whoever was in the observation room, but a scarlet tentacle shot out from under the covers and delved between your lips, forcing its way past your teeth, too far as you choked on it.

Another tentacle slithered up your cheek and over your eyes, forcing your head back down onto the pillow and smothering you in darkness. Claustrophobic terror surged inside you as you struggled not to gag.

The tentacle in your mouth slid out immediately and you gasped for breath, tears springing in the corners of your eyes.

I didn’t want to do that. He sounded oddly irritated; how funny your roles had been reversed. But you make every damn thing so difficult, Reid.

The heavy pressure inside you began to retract, and you immediately regretted the loss and reached out, wanting to be filled again, the emptiness making everything worse.

A deep, primordial growl echoed in your mind before he thrust back inside, pressure digging into your hips as if he actually held you there. And he didn’t stop, his rhythm picking up until you were being repeatedly fucked into the mattress, or at least it felt that way even if your body didn’t move an inch.

Your eyes rolled into your head, the ecstatic sensations pulsing through you so deep you feared you might be torn apart. The tentacle that had been in your mouth now grasped you lightly around the throat, and you arched your spine, silently begging for more.

More tentacles slithered up the bed and over your skin, around your legs and stomach and arms, even across your chest to tease your nipples with the deftness of a very flexible tongue.

And then a tentacle thicker than the others slid up your thigh, pushed between your legs, and forced its way inside, its smooth surface joining 035’s thrusts along your walls, fucking you bodily as well as mentally.

035 stopped talking a while ago, but you felt him entrenched just as deeply in your thoughts, wrapped around you so completely that it was an orgasmic sensation all on its own. You were glad you hadn’t known what this was like, otherwise you might have begged for it at the start.

You sensed his need, urging you to come apart, to give yourself to him. A tiny shred of resistance remained as you tried to hold on to your self, your identity.

The tentacle pulsed and squirmed inside you, phantom teeth nipped at your throat, and you shattered, breaking apart into a million tiny shards as you silently cried his true name in a litany of pleasure and surrender. It wasn’t intentional, but it was inevitable. All you wanted was for the bliss to continue, to never end, and 035’s presence wrapped and twisted around you until you couldn’t tell the difference between your thoughts and his. All that remained was sparking heat and ecstatic sensation.

The orgasm dragged on, tugging you past your limits as you twitched with overstimulation, and the pleasure you sensed wasn’t just yours. 035 also felt sluggish and heavy, as if your climax had hit him just as hard.

The tentacles gradually retreated as did the pressure splitting you open, and you whined at the absence. You were drenched in your own slick, and you really should get up to clean yourself, but you didn’t have an ounce of energy left.

Something coiled around you, but when you blinked your eyes open, there was nothing there. 035 had wrapped around your mind like a satisfied cat—or a constricting snake.

I’ll take care of everything, he lulled with his low whispers. Sleep.

Sleep sounded like a great idea, and also a terrible one. You really should take off the mask, but instead, you closed your eyes and basked in 035’s presence. Normally intrusive and cloying, his closeness was oddly comforting. Secure.

You couldn’t trust him, not ever, but as you closed your eyes, you allowed yourself to open up to him. Just a little.

Alarms blared from a great distance, slowly becoming louder and louder until they ricocheted in your skull. Your eyes blinked open, or… were already open, and you winced at the flashing emergency lights over your head.

You were holding something heavy in one hand, and when you looked down, the blank, lifeless gaze of a guard stared back at you.

Dropping the body, you shuddered backwards, confused and panicked. You were in a corridor somewhere, Light Containment by the looks of it. You wanted to shut your eyes, not against the pulsing lights but at the bodies strewn across the tile like broken toys.

Only then did you realize you weren’t seeing the whole picture—literally, your vision partially obscured as if you were looking through something. Your hands tried to touch your face, but smooth porcelain blocked your fingers.

“035,” you whispered, horror strangling your words. “What did you do?”

Your hands jerked away from your face, clumsy and uncoordinated, and you instinctually fought against it. But the presence looming in your mind was too large, and he quickly wrested back control, his movements smooth as he used your body to pick up a guard’s rifle at your feet.

He cradled the weapon in one hand, using the other to pull a level 4 security keycard from the fallen guard. He glanced at the card before twirling it between his-your fingers and pocketed it into the lap coat you were apparently wearing.

A grin spread across your face, so wide and obscene it made your cheeks ache. You fought against his hold, but his tether within your body was too strong.

035 attempted to soothe you, like someone petting an agitated animal, and you wished you could bite. His amusement was patronizing and unnecessary; you both knew you couldn’t break free. You had surrendered to him, let your guard down, and he’d finally gotten what he desired.

“I think the question is…” He spoke using your mouth, your voice layered with another underneath, silky and sinister. “What are we doing?”

His grin spread wide.

“Whatever the hell we want.”

Next Entry

[danco110]

“Brunhilda! Stop!”

But it was too late. With a triumphant roar, the Gruul centaur in question brought her front hooves down on the table before her, shattering it to splinters. Meanwhile, the Izzet viashino standing off to the side could only stare on in horror.

“Brunhilda!”

The rampaging raider came to her senses, and grimaced at the shattered wood. “Huh? Oh. Sorry, Kenneth. Gruul rage. You know how it is.”

“Do I?”

“I’ll…well, I’m not too handy. But, I could chop some wood for the replacement!”

Kenneth waved a dismissive claw. “What, the table? Don’t worry about it. I was procrastinating upgrading to a mizzium one, anyways.”

“Hmph, no accounting for taste. But wait. Then why are you mad?”

“The food that was on the table, Brunhilda! That was my lunch!”

“Ohhh…”

Brunhilda now looked at the smashed remains of Kenneth’s meal, now lying amid the wreckage of his table.

“Uh…I don’t think I can fix the food, either. But you can just get more, right?”

Kenneth bit back a sarcastic laugh. “Sure. For another fifteen zinos.”

“For that little thing? See, that’s part of why we’re raging against- Wait, I know! Next time I go hunting, I’ll just give you part of my haul! Arynxes are almost in season.”

“That’s nice, but…” Kenneth tilted his head back and forth. “Well, I guess that could work.”

“It’s good meat! And way better than that piddly little salad you were going to have!”

“Well, you don’t have to say it like that.” Kenneth looked down glumly at the remains of his salad. “You didn’t even eat it…”

[Always found it funny, the imagery of Rampage just smashing food tokens as well despite them being perfectly edible.

Also, there are surprisingly few food tokens that aren’t either: morbid in art, or from a Universes Beyond set. Like, I’m just looking for normal food!]

[magpie-come-east]

It was hypothesized before that Mohg has been ‘absent’ from the Dynasty for at least some time even before SOTE released. When Varré dubs you a Pureblood Knight, he says you will be indicted when Mohg awakens. Which is some unspecified time in the future.

I think this is a another bit of evidence that Mohgwyn Dynasty has been spinning it’s wheels and spiraling due to Miquella’s charm on Mohg. Mohg’s obsession has lead to him pretty much abandoning leadership of his own group. All he cares about is courting Miquella and feeding the cocoon blood.

This isn’t me saying Mohgwyn Dynasty was this good-aligned beacon of heroic intentions that Miquella corrupted. I don’t see the ‘kill your maiden’ prerequisite NOT being characteristic of Mohg. After all, Varré’s entire quest is about the Tarnished abandoning the call of the Two Fingers. Killing one’s maiden certainly cements one’s rejection of the Greater Will.

But anyway! What I do mean is that Mohgwyn feels so aimless and chaotic in the game’s present. They have been waiting centuries for Miquella to ascend as the FM vessel. They have no other ambitions than jumping tarnished to steal their blood.

We have a Godrick Knight in Kenneth’s Fort that knows bloodflame magic. It is also stated that he undermined Kenneth’s bid at making peace with the Demihumans by luring in their Queen and killing her. Was this a 4D chess move by Mohg to keep Limgrave destabilized? Or was this just some aimless bloodlusted dude that commits violence because that’s all the Dynasty has left?

[metalljellyphish]

I have been trying so hard to think of stupid names for this silly AU I might be making a breakthrough???

Kyle gets his shorthand name from Stan cause the silly didn’t want to try and pronounce his name when he told him, so it had to be something complicated enough but also phonically similar. I started out just his name but more syllables like how Cartman will pronounce it with an extra h and a sound, something like Khyeel but I don’t think it sounds regal enough. Been bouncing around Khy’theal tonight as an idea, basically my stipulations is it has to be a name that I can realistically see his mother yelling whenever he’s in trouble or when people say his full title as prince.

I also joke with myself about calling Stan ‘Staniel’ cause I think is funny, but also I kinda like it? I also make an in-joke with Kenny who tends to say wrong but similar names as cute nicknames.

Speaking of Lady McCormick; she’s also an enigma with names as most people tend to refer to her as Lady McCormick or simply Milady (especially Leopold) She does eventually share that Kenny was a nickname by her little sister, and there was a young lad from a small village named Kenneth a long, long time ago, but saving the fun backstory for another time, I still need to think of something for her.

At least Eric and Leopold are fancy enough I can use in a fantasy setting and it makes sense, so thanks guys.

Yeah anyway this is the dumb stuff I think about for these AUs send help

[ineffable-endearments]

The Crow Road and Good Omens: Further-Out Thoughts

Here are a few more thoughts; they're more interpretive yet than the ones in my original post about The Crow Road.

I see some similarities between Prentice and both Aziraphale and Crowley.

Prentice feels this need to believe there's something beyond this life, in large part because this life can be ended so quickly and so easily, and it isn't fair. Throughout the novel, he is never very interested in organized religion; his interest in spirituality is truly about the feeling that there has to be a deeper meaning to existence than this one life.

Likewise, I tend to interpret Aziraphale as willing to consider that the people who make up his institution are fallible, but still stuck on the idea that Heaven is performing an essential role: someone should be up there Doing Good, or, more accurately, encouraging people to Do Good. He has reservations about the existing spiritual establishment and how reflective of truth it is, but he still has this feeling that there has to be a greater power and a greater meaning that can be given to people, himself included, because otherwise, what would be the point?

Then again, there is a nonzero amount of Crowley in Prentice, too (and I know the point is that everyone has a little of each). Prentice is a college-aged young man trying to figure himself out in a world that can be profoundly unfair, and he wants to be allowed to experiment with the idea of life after death. Considering perspectives different from one's parents is part of growing up, after all. Kenneth is determined to steer his sons toward a specific worldview, and as much as Kenneth's perspective on spirituality is supported by the narrative, his stubbornness is also ultimately the thing that gets him killed. Prentice observes his mother's hands-off approach to ideology may have ultimately been more effective.

Doesn't this sound a little familiar? Prentice wants to be allowed to question, and he isn't willing to just shrug and accept unfairness without an argument. When he can't find satisfactory answers, he also tends to drown his anxiety and depression in alcohol and other substances.

All in all, I feel we may have seen the conflict between Crowley and Aziraphale playing out in Prentice's character development; they are the angel and demon on his shoulder, as usual. But the conflict was resolved in the way that I think and hope Crowley and Aziraphale's will be on a grander scale. Prentice ended up having to surrender his philosophy, especially the life-after-death stuff, but then his deep need for a sense of meaning was satisfied much better by finding that meaning here on Earth.

There's also an interesting interaction between the two stories in relation to the afterlife. Namely, The Crow Road takes place in a universe that presumably works just like ours, while we know for sure that in Good Omens, there is an afterlife of one kind or another. We can't be sure how it works, but we've seen human characters in both Season 1 and Season 2 maintain their consciousness after death. I wonder if maybe in the world of Good Omens, human mortality is somehow being exploited by the higher-ups?

Anyway, as a result of this difference, Good Omens also has a special opportunity with the "death doesn't give life meaning - life gives itself meaning!" message. Its main characters are immortal. The book already subverts the whole "oh, being immortal sucks, everyone eventually wants to die" trope by portraying Crowley and Aziraphale's motivation to maintain their Earthly lives instead of starting Armageddon. Season 2 added depth to that, and Season 3 has an opportunity to fully flesh out why exactly life on Earth is where meaning is created even when there is no time limit, even if people don't have the inevitability of death looming over their heads.

Another thought: something a little ironic in The Crow Road is that the incident that led to Kenneth's death "should," theoretically, have made Prentice believe in higher powers, if it was really about that. It certainly convinced Hamish. However, the whole conflict between himself and his father was more about the meaning Prentice sought, so instead, it pushed Prentice toward Kenneth's ideology.

I am wondering if this points toward an event that Aziraphale "should," theoretically, take to mean that Heaven is right or all-powerful or otherwise can't possibly be defied, but which will be the very thing that convinces him the entire system is wrong.

Finally, @loverdosis brought up the great point that memory and history are also major conceptual themes in The Crow Road. In The Crow Road, memory and history give the characters their sense of identity. Prentice also mentions it as one way people can achieve a kind of continuity that doesn't infringe on the importance of life itself. And all of that meshes with Good Omens. So far, Gabriel's plot has involved a very strong focus on memory issues, and through that, we've seen that there is something going on with Crowley's memory as well, although exactly what it is - how much of his memory is missing, who took it, whether he can or wants to get it back - is uncertain. Beelzebub described Gabriel's memories as "All your...you," implying that memories are the majority of what gives Gabriel his identity. The memory wipe punishment is very much a death sentence.

After consideration, I would not be surprised to see memory make a roaring comeback as a theme in Season 3. It could even bring themes of identity and purpose with it.

[summerlycoris]

The facts about Vanessa’s history prior to Security Breach. (And a summary of the different companies involved in AR and HW.)

I won’t lie, this (hopefully!) effortpost was prompted by watching Dual Processes latest video about Vanessa, where they state that ‘In AR, Vanessa pretends to be an IT Rep to trick Silver Parasol Games into giving her full access to the game.’ Which was… interesting, to me. Because it showed Vanessa’s email to Steve Wilson, who works for Anna Kwemto, who works for…

We don’t actually know the company she, or her underlings, work for.

Anyway, this isn’t made to target any specific people- Dual Processes’s video about Vanessa is brilliant (no spoilers- go watch it!) despite my quibbles at the very start. And the corporate chains in HW and AR, are confusing and easily mistaken- to the point the fnaf wikia has a lot of errors I needed to shift through while researching this topic…

I’ll lay all my chips on the table straight up- I had to find out a lot of Vanessa's backstory just before Ruin released, because I wasn’t really following fnaf until after Ruin was announced. I’d dipped around the HW days.

But I’d noticed a fair bit that, because few people played AR, and even those who did play AR likely didn’t see all the emails, that there are a lot of assumptions about who works for who, and who does what. False info that led me into believing a lot of misleading information about Vanessa before I looked into it more.

This misinfo even goes as far back as HW- do you think Vanessa works for Silver Parasol Games in HW? It’s a common belief- but I think it’s a misconception. And I’ve brought proof to the table.

Anyway, the point of this is to lay out anything about who works for who, and where they work. Because corporate chains are complicated, in a series that is already complicated enough!

First things first, what companies are we dealing with?

Well, there’s Silver Parasol Games. Which gets shut down and brought out during HW’s development. (Tape Girls Tapes- 1, 10, 15) I’m not gonna try to put years of operation because… no. But I do need to make it clear it shuts down prior to Vanessa beta testing the game.

People working at this company named in HW include Dale, Jeremy, and Tape Girl. If you go off the scrapped fake website for Silver Parasol Games, then the company also includes Gabriella, Tonya, and Aiden. (One of the two girls is likely Tape Girl.)

There is also Another Potential Development Studio, which is unnamed but suggested to be buying out Silver Parasol Games. (Tapes 10, 15). We don’t know much about this company other than Vanessa must work here during HW. [She never mentions a boss, or coworkers with this company.]

For AR, there is Anna Kwemto’s company, which is a subcontractor working for Fazbear Entertainment. It goes unnamed in AR.

The people working at this company include Anna Kwemto, Daniel Rocha, Raha Salib, Steve Wilson, and Mark Cho.

DLZ Shipping Solutions- a company that shipped animatronics parts to… they don’t say which company. But we at least know which person- Lisa Jameson (regional director of logistics for an unknown company.)

Their employees include Jimmy Hauss, (before getting fired) and James Strand.

Fazbear Entertainment- has a variety of teams and job positions. I’ll try to list them all here, though not in order of operation sorry. Kayla Stringer- Legal. Vanessa A- Security. Luis Cabrera- IT. Shonda Ford- legal. Greg Abernathy- IT. Dan Ximenez- IT. Jerome Khan- Accounting. James Campbell- IT. Todd C- Office Staff. Aiden Jackson- IT. Ivan Gagarin- Accounting. Diannah Larimore- Marketing (laid off). Maria A- Marketing (laid off.). Cheryl M- Office Staff. Anand G- Legal.

All from here on out have unknown job roles- Kenneth Freeman, Christie Buckley, Ben Pulley, Karen Soto, Brenda Tanaka, Stanley Howser, Jack Sims, Jay Murphy, Charles Ramirez. Jim Campbell.

There are also basic login details from some unknown people, from another unnamed company in ‘Security Incident Log- September.’ They are J_B and A_L.

There are also more workers who don’t have a specific company they’re tied to- but are working with the Funtime Service. These include Nora- R&D. Tristan- Compliance. Charles- QA. Isolde- Customer Service.

Okay. So that’s the raw data. Kowalski- analysis!

Jim and James Campbell are… interesting. They could be brothers. They could just have the same last name. They could just be a mistake- someone misspelling a name and accidentally making two characters where there should be one.

Honestly, I’m assuming it’s a mistake. AR was being made in that timeframe where Scott was pretty hands off about the story, and barely communicating with Steel Wool about SB. This is likely just a mistake that no one cared enough about enough to notice or correct. Like Luis being in IT in AR, then in Marketing in SB. Without any foreshadowing that he was transferring.

I wish they’d clarified which company Lisa Jameson, Nora, Tristan, Charles and Isolde worked for- or if they worked together, even. It sounds like they all work with the funtime service, based on the emails. But I can’t be sure of it, because none of the Nora/Tristan/Isolde/Charles emails reference Lisa, and vise versa.

*sighs*

It’d be useful to know if they work for Anna Kwemto’s company, Fazbear Entertainment, or somewhere else entirely. Because that’s the key to figuring out whether Anna Kwemto’s lot were scanning circuit boards for game development (unlikely for the timeline- but as said in the Jim and James rant- Scott wasn’t communicating with his teams. And its unlikely Steel Wool was communicating with Illumix either.) Or whether they were scanning circuit boards to recreate animatronics for the funtime service.

If Lisa was working for Anna- then it’s fairly cut and dry. They’re working in a warehouse storing animatronics, with an office attached for more hands-off staff.

If Lisa was working for Fazbear Entertainment in-house, then that leaves the possibility that Anna Kwemto’s lot weren’t running the Funtime Service. (Since Lisa’s emails imply her warehouse has ‘active animatronics’ too- including Bonnie eating a cat… which… I could’ve done without knowing thanks game.) And the Nora/etc emails explicitely talks about the new animatronics being sent out with the Funtime Service.

Also, sucks not knowing for sure who and where from J_B and A_L are. I’m assuming that they’re unnamed people from Fazbear Entertainment’s IT department- considering when Vanessa hijacks herself an IT email address, it has the same layout (V_A). But it’s not confirmed and no one with these initials is written as working for Fazbear. (Unless I missed something- please let me know!)

With Anna Kwemto’s company- it scans circuit boards of animatronics, which is why people might confuse them with Silver Parasol Games. However, they are never stated to be involved in game development. And by the time Vanessa has left Another Potential Development Studio to join Fazbear Entertainment, Silver Parasol Games should no longer exist as a separate entity. (Considering it was going to be bought out by Another Potential Development Studio while Vanessa was working there.) Timeline-wise, Anna Kwemto being the head of Silver Parasol Games doesn’t add up. And circuit boards could be scanned for a variety of reasons- say, if you’re making replicas of old animatronics for the funtime service.

(But that’s getting into speculation- while it’s implied they’re a subcontractor running the Funtime Service for Fazbear in the emails, there’s no explicit proof. Only the email from Raha Salib to the rest of the crew talking about an unknown user giving commands to all ‘active animatronics’ really gives us a hint to them running the Funtime Service. And that doesn’t neccesarily mean active animatronics are from the Funtime Service.)

‘Where are you getting a timeline from Summerly?’ from the games.

Vanessa gets infected by Glitchtrap, because circuit boards are sent to Silver Parasol Games and scanned into the Freddy Fazbear Virtual Experience. (The in universe VR game Vanessa’s working on) Vanessa can’t start being possessed by Vanny and acting weird around Luis before she get’s possessed- so HW must happen before the storyline events of AR.

During the story of AR, Vanessa (most likely Vanny puppeting her) locks out all of Anna’s workers, including Anna, after they scan some circuit boards and got a virus. Because they’ve been locked out, all ‘active animatronics’ become impossible to control. Around this time, either Vanny or GGY sends out a data package using a new account- ‘_pizzaplex’ that presumably 1. Targets the pizzaplex currently in the process of either being built or operating, and 2. Infects the animatronics there.

(Again- Scott was hands off during this time. I know this contradicts The Storyteller.)

If it was any other way around, Vanessa wouldn’t be infected with Glitchtrap during AR. She’d just be… being extremely weird for no good reason. Doesn’t make sense storywise.

Ultimately, these random companies and workers aren’t important except for acting as reference points- who works where and whos coworkers with who?

The important part is Vanessa. And this post does have something to say about Vanessa. Mainly, what I’ve already included- no, she did not work for Silver Parasol Games. But also something I had falsely believed prior to doing this research- she didn’t work at Fazbear Entertainment before working as a security guard there during AR, either. Or at least, that’s never proven. She works for the company that buys out Silver Parasol Games. Then probably job hops between games, to get into a position that is more useful for Glitchtrap. A position at Fazbear Entertainment.

It’s never explicitly stated that Vanessa (or Vanny) is sending the tutorial emails to customers of the funtime service. But considering the focus on collecting remnant, the sender being ‘FAZ//...AR ENT##AIN_!MENT’, and the repetitions of ‘funFUNFUNfun’ and similar throughout those emails… It’s likely Vanny is sending out those emails after hijacking the funtime service animatronics. (Which would explain why she wanted to work at FazEnt, and why she locked out Anna Kwemto’s lot if they were running the Funtime Service animatronics for FazEnt.) Basically, in order to control the animatronics, she needed to control the subcontractor (s) and have a position in FazEnt to exploit.

Why did she want to control the animatronics? Remnant, probably. The modified emails sent from ‘FAZ//...AR ENT##AIN_!MENT talk about collecting remnant. And some of the animatronics sent out through the Funtime Service emulate the Funtime Animatronics… like Funtime Freddy and Circus Baby. Who would have stomach hatches, if whoever replicated them didn’t think too hard about what they were building.

Basically, Vanny needed remnant. Possibly for rebuilding Afton. Possibly for fixing the Mimic. She could risk herself getting remnant personally… or she could get some machines to do it for her. These machines would also be useful for, say, disposing of some meddling therapists at a later date.

This may even explain what the scooper's there for in Ruin. Vanny may have been using the scooper on the Funtime Service rentals to receive their remnant after they killed someone.

Anyway, that’s all I got for now.

[littlerocks]

After watching 7x08, I shed I don't know how many tears for bobby's story, his past and I just want to hug him tightly and take away all the pain he has felt over the years. Comuqnue after seeing bobby's past, literally I think bobby and buck saved each other, bobby found in buck a son, buck found in bobby a father, and their bond that they have is wonderful. Anyway I don't talk too much about 7x08 because I'm waiting for the Italian subtitles to understand better ahahhaha

Anyway talking about the images 7x09:

I'm too happy for them that they received recognition for what they did, risking their lives to save bobby and athena but also all the other people, and a thank you to hen and his instincts that will always be taken into account from now on hahaha.

Obviously some people "complained" from what I read about the fact that tommy in the picture didn't have the medal, and so that implied that he wasn't part of the 118, like he wasn't important and whatever that kind of crap, honestly me to laugh because literally it was because of him, that bobby and athena and all the other people were saved, in the sense he could very well give up not flying them, because first there was a hurricane and it was dangerous, I guess; then you didn't even know if it was true, and then first of all I think he would have risked his job as well as the others rightly, so I think that even though physically he is not part of the 118 because he doesn't work there anymore, he nevertheless still helped them, also because because he used to work before there; I think he knows chim and hen and even bobby well and so he knows that if they say they help them do something that actually you didn't know if it was true, he knew though that they were right, it still makes it clear that all in all he is still part of the 118, so the fact that there are commeti saying that he doesn't deserve the medal, or that what he has done is not important, is bullshit, I understand not liking the character but to deny that he doesn't deserve recognition, on the work that he has done, seems to me to be going too far.

However, my opinion, for me buck in addition to being happy of course to have a recognition on the rescue he did together with his team (including tommy) for me in part he is also happy because he is also with tommy, in the sense he is happy that he is living this experience together with tommy, his fiancé, not as a mere spectator but literally as a member of the team that helped him rescue the people. Also in my opinion if he could, he would make like a poster saying "this beautiful guy standing next to me is my boyfriend," with the arrow ch pointing to tommy. I have no certainty but also no doubt that he would do that ahahah

Also less bad that Tommy smiled, because if he wouldn't have done so, everyone would complain about the fact " eh you see Tommy is a serious person who doesn't even smile, while buck does, so you see they don't fit in so they don't go well together", so thanks Tommy who smiled at least they can't attack you on this (just kidding hahaha) anyway everything aside, I'm now completely in love with Lou's smile, I have a crush on him, and also for the smile

However I expect a kiss between Tommy and Buck in the barracks eh (it would be wonderful) and then another date between them. Anyway, I saw that the actors from 911 Lone Star met the ones from 911, so can it be a new episode together? However, if that were the case, I want to see tk and buck talking together and then he says "you know, I got engaged to a guy" and tk says "my nose for understanding if he's a queer person is never wrong" AHAHHA, and then like, buck ago see the photos in tk of tommy and tk of carlos and their wedding, I would like it too much see

Image obviously with the two boyfriends and their biggest fan: Chim/Kenneth Choi, he will protect them from everyone AHAHAHAHHA

I don't know what to expect in 7x09, I just want Bobby to return to having serenity and I sincerely hope that that fire is like a dream that he has, imagining a fire in his house as if it were his fear of not being able to save his family again, having failed to save his father, his first family and even now his second family, as if this were his greatest fear. So I hope it's something he figures out himself and I hope Bobby eventually gets well again

To conclude, it has nothing to do with the above, I think this competition thing between "buddie, "buck and tommy endgame", "buck must be with eddie" or "tomy and buck don't have a bond while eddie and buck do", I don't understand about all this competition, what if we lived it and enjoyed it regardless of what happens? Obviously everyone has their own theories, ship, endgame okay it's fine, it's fine but honestly living these let's say competition on who buck is better with eddie or with tommy, just because some people hate that buck is with tommy makes me a little bored, or who hate Tommy regardless, I don't know it creates a tension in the fandom, yet we could just be happy and that's it?

However, I love Tommy's character, I haven't seen much of him, but that little bit was enough for me to love him

[milimeters-morales]

chapter 9 of my transfem miles fic!

Chap 1 / Chap 2 / Chap 3 / Chap 4 / Chap 5 / Chap 6 / Chap 7 / Chap 8

Wordcount: 4k+

Warnings: trans kid gets called slurs and beat up (the beating up isn't shown happening). to skip, stop reading once the whole park section ends (the linebreak), and pick it back up again at "Kenneth smiles, showing off their bloodied teeth" because I don't recc skipping the entire section tbh. but you can do that if you want, just go to the next linebreak.

“I’m just saying, I’ve been through worse--” Miles starts, shutting up at the pained look on his parents’ faces. 

“No extreme Spider-Manning,” his dad tells him, crossing his arms. “And take one of my jackets. It’s getting cold out.”

It’s not, Miles thinks as he grabs his dad’s smallest coat from the rack. It was still too big, the sleeves were going past his hands, but he kind of liked that. 

“And take my scarf,” his mom adds, crossing her arms too.

Dang it, they’re mirroring! Now he’s definitely not going to win any argument he makes now.

“It’s not that cold out,” he tries.

“The weather is unpredictable,” his mom replies instantly, like she had that excuse prepared.

Ughhh. You crack a few ribs, break one nose, and nearly (well, literally) pass out from exhaustion one time! Okay, maybe more than once, but that’s besides the point. He’s not made of glass-- he’s still here, isn’t he? Did he die?

No, but he probably would if he said anything other than, “Yes Mother and Father, I’ll run home as soon as the wind gets too strong for my fragile bones!”

“Fix your face,” his dad tells him as he makes his way to the door.

Miles schools his expression, not even realizing he was scowling like someone personally insulted him, and sighs.

“Don’t you sigh at us,” his mom says, “we’re just trying to make sure you’ll be alright.”

“I am, Ma. I’m just going hang with Ganke and Gwen.”

“The second, and I mean the second--“

Miles really considers interrupting her to speed this up. And that’s the difference between him and a dead Miles, because a dead Miles definitely would have already done that. Add another reason to the “Why Miles Would Have Gotten Into Visions Anyway” list, this for sure counts.

“--hurting, you come home, okay?”

“Yeah,” he nods and shrugs.

She narrows her eyes, and his dad tilts his head.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Once he’s finally out of that house, and breathing in the fresh air on the street, Miles takes off the scarf, puts it in the jacket pocket, and ties the jacket around his waist. It really isn’t that cold, his parents are just extra worried since he came home with kind of bad injuries yesterday. 

When he woke up to get breakfast (after texting Ganke that yes, he was fine, and no, he wouldn’t be a “rich widow”), his mom and dad were hovering more than usual, and his dad looked anxious to even clap him on his shoulder like he usually did in the mornings. 

It’s not like he’s never shown up injured before, he’s come home with worse! Sure, they don’t usually know, but it’s not like he was going to die. He was just a bit roughed up.

They must’ve seen some disturbing story on the news, or something. 

_____

“How was the fudge?” Gwen asks him as he shows up to the candy store. They had all agreed to meet here, as some sort of “reward” for Miles.

“Oh, I didn’t eat it yet,” he answers, “how’s Brick? That guy you helped me with?”

Ganke snorts at the name as he grabs some sour gummies.

“Right,” Gwen nods, “he’s apparently back to normal? Spider-Doc called me in and let me see him, but he wants you to come in and double check.”

“But I didn’t see him when he was normal.”

“That’s what I said probably happened,” Gwen gestures towards him with more nodding, “but he said Brick would probably want to see a familiar Spidey anyway. So yeah, he looks normal, but he’s exhausted and not really cooperative. That bracelet can only last like, two weeks.”

Miles gums and grabs some plantain chips and a slushie cup. “Alright, why can’t we visit now? It’ll only take a few minutes, right?”

Gwen shrugs. “Wait, can we take you?” she asks Ganke, reaching up to grab a bag of chocolate pretzels for him after seeing him go to stand on his tip-toes.

“Short ass,” Miles laughs, dodging the punch to his shoulder. “But I don’t know, I’ve never seen anyone else bring civilians to what remains.”

“Oh my god, you sound so ominous when you call it that,” Ganke laughs, making his way over to the counter. “And I don’t wanna go anyway.”

Gwen reluctantly grabs her own snacks, complaining about none of them being sweet or salty enough to actually be worth it. They all pay for their candy (with Ganke’s money, he’s sure to remind Gwen and Miles) and leave, walking down the street and chowing down.

“Alright, so Margo and Doc had found the dimension Brick was from, but don't think it’s a good idea to let him go back yet because we don’t know about the other effects-- if there are any-- of the super steroid,” Gwen explains as she chews her strawberry wafers. “Not what its name by the way, don’t call it that. Doc gets annoyed and starts explaining exactly what the drug is.”

“Isn’t that a good thing to know?” Miles asks, looking down each alley they pass. 

“Miles, it’s like fifteen different ingredients with names longer than the pi,” Gwen rolls her eyes, “Anyway, Doc’s waiting ‘till Brick’s coherent enough. Might take most of the day, but just wanted to let you know.”

Miles nods, eyes catching on someone. It was some kid, he thinks, just playing on a phone. Why did he focus on--

“Ohhh!” He whisper-shouts, quickly looking away and back to his friends, “that’s Kenneth!” 

“Who?” Gwen and Ganke ask at the same time.

Shoot. “Nobody, just some kid I helped as the other guy,” Miles explains hurriedly. “They don’t actually know me.”

“Aw, but you two look like you’d be friends,” Ganke replies, still looking at Kenneth. “God knows you need more normal ones. No offense, Gwen.”

“I get it,” she says, also still looking at Kenneth. It’s like these two all of a sudden forgot what manners are!

“Stop staring at them! Come on,” He hisses out, feeling shame claw at his back and shoulders. He steers the two to the other side of the street, not so subtly checking if Kenneth looked up at any point.

“Jeez, that perfume lasts long,” Gwen comments, “you smell like a romance novel cover.”

“I hate that I know exactly what you mean,” he replies.

“Why are you so on edge anyway?” Ganke asks him. “Something happen? …Other than yesterday?”

“My parents… they’re just… protective,” he decides on. “C’mon, let’s just go before it gets too crowded.”

_____

Of course, because Miles can’t have anything, the cat cafe’s grand opening was too crowded and left him and Gwen overstimulated, irritated, and wanting to escape. Gwen and Ganke didn’t even get to choose ridiculous names to call the cats instead of their actual ones, which usually would’ve had Miles thanking every deity he could think of for this miracle, but it was just awful this time.

He let Gwen scurry off to Hobie’s dimension to calm down, and dropped Ganke off at home, apologizing for ruining the day. The boy told him he didn’t ruin anything, and kissed his cheek before heading inside. Miles didn’t really believe that, but it’s fine, he can act like he does. 

After a few stress bites and scratches, a loose brick crumbled into dust, and some breathing exercises, Miles is ready to be Spider-Man for the rest of the day.

At some point, he ends up in the park helping a few parents set up a pretty expensive looking birthday party (which earns him a cupcake, score!) and goes to swing off again, but a little girl calling out to him seconds before zipping closer to cling to his leg stops him.

“Spidey, you smell good!” The little girl missing-- who’s missing one of her front teeth, now isn’t that cute-- smiles up at him. “You smell like my ma!”

Normally, this sentence would be extremely weird, but considering he just saved a woman wearing the strongest perfume in the world yesterday, it’s justified. It’s reached normal strength levels today, from what his parents said, so that’s a small positive. 

Miles laughs, “Aw, thank you! Where is your mama?”

“Norah says she’s busy far away!”

Miles nods, “And who’s Norah? Is that your sister?”

The little girl giggles, “Nooo! That’s my other ma! She’s super tall!”

Miles nods again, “Ohhh, I see! My bad! Let’s go find her, she must be wondering where you are!” Offering his hand to the girl, whose hand is impossibly small in his own, he begins to walk where she came from.

“So what does she look like?” 

“Umm,” the girl says, whipping her head around as she searches around, “she’s got red hair like Ariel. And her favorite color is green!”

Luckily, someone with red hair that vibrant is easy to spot in the park.

Norah’s eyes widen as she turns from the man she’s talking to on a bench and sees her daughter being guided to her by Spider-Man. “Hi honey, are you okay? Why are you with Spider-Man?”

“I’m fine, he smells like Ma! Smell him!” the little girl excitedly informs her mom, running and hugging her legs.

“Oh, no thank you, I believe you,” Norah laughs, brushing her hair out of her face. 

And man, that kid wasn’t lying at all. The woman is tall, so tall that Miles has to actually move his head a considerable amount when he looks up at her.

“Go back to playing with Micah and his friends, honey,” Norah runs a hand through the girl’s short hair before she takes off to a sandbox, “and don’t wander off this time!”

“She probably means the perfume you’re wearing. It smells a lot like what my ex used to wear,” Norah gives him a warm smile after sighing. “I didn’t even know they still sold that scent! She always got it from like, a reseller.”

Miles smiles and shrugs, “I don’t know if they do, but a woman I saved was wearing it. Guess it’s still that strong, huh?”

“Ahh, that makes more sense,” Norah says, the man behind her humming and nodding.

…Why did that make him feel kind of weird? Put on the spot, almost?

“We won’t keep you,” Norah says, going back to sit on the bench.

“Alright! Have a nice day!”

Miles swings off, feeling strange. 

Sure, he hasn’t met any guys that wear perfume, but it’s the same thing as cologne. Something to make you smell good! He knows it’s not that common, but women wear cologne all the time. Right? So, a man wearing perfume wouldn’t be that weird.

“God, why are you so defensive…” he mutters to himself. 

____

Later that night, when he’s expertly convinced his parents he won’t get into any fights (but come on, be serious), he’s trying to calm down after being held at gunpoint by a would-be mugger that looked way too young to fully understand what they were doing.

It turned out fine, but still. Gunpoint. You’d think after nearly 2 years, he could take it like it was nothing.

Anyway, he’s swinging off the stress, when he hears it-- the telltale sounds of a fight.

He rockets down to a nearby rooftop and peeks over the edge, eyes widening when he sees Kenneth-- again! The kid was cornered by four much larger people. At least one of them must’ve been an adult or something! Kenneth was sneering-- that’s blood, that’s blood-- at the group, fists balled at their sides and shaking.

Darting down, Miles lands between Kenneth and the four others, spreading his arms out. “What, you got a problem?” he asks them loudly, stepping forward. Two flinch back at his sudden appearance, the other two looking surprised but not moving. “You deaf or something?” He narrows his lenses in the way he knows people don’t like and revels in those resulting furrowed brows.

“You defending him?” one of the men asks, sounding genuinely surprised. Is this man serious?

“Them,” Kenneth spits out from behind Miles. 

“You beating on a kid? You ain’t got anything better to do with your lives?” Miles can feel the adrenaline pumping in his veins, teeth grinding and chest getting tight. He takes another step forward, sending one of them running off with mutters about “not getting tased”. 

“Pussy!” Kenneth shouts after the runner, and Miles doesn’t feel the need to say anything about that. His focus is on the three excuses of-- 

Calm down. Kenneth’s safety is more important than his anger. 

“Spidey, you know that’s a man, right?” the second man asks him.

“A tranny,” the third man spits out.

The word hits his ears like a pot of boiling water spills onto his feet, like he’s being hit with that truck all over again. There’s mini explosions in his chest, and it feels like his head literally empties, leaving only… scribbles. Incoherent, angry, scared scribbles.

Miles lets the electricity in his veins glow bright enough to cast shadows against the walls. “You’re being assholes. Get lost!”

The third man leaves, grumbling, and dragging the second with him despite the difficulty since the second just assumed they could all win the fight against Miles if they stuck together. 

“Oh, not only are you assholes, you’re stupid too? Pick a struggle!” Miles rolls his eyes at the two retreaters. “What, you really wanna try it? You?” He looks the final man still standing in front of him up and down and tries to put as much disdain, disbelief, and annoyance in his voice until it practically drips with all three. He scoffs to make it hurt a little, in the way everyone else at school does when someone asks for a girl’s number, “Yeah, right.”

The man sneers and quickly stomps out of the alley after the others. “...kind of man wears perfume, prolly one of ‘em…” he mutters as he leaves.

A few moments pass, and once Kenneth breathes out a heavy sigh of relief, Miles finally relaxes, breathing out a sigh of his own.

“I am so sorry about that,” he apologizes, letting the electricity die down and turning to face Kenneth. Now that he’s close up, he can see blood dripping down from their nose and a bruise on their cheek. “Look, I’ll walk you home.”

“Thanks,” Kenneth smiles, showing off their bloodied teeth. Yeesh. “I don’t actually think I could’ve won that one.”

As they’re walking down the street, Miles keeps a hand on Kenneth’s shoulder, wondering if he should take them to urgent care just in case. 

“I’m still real sorry you had to hear that,” he tells them, “those jerks don’t know a thing. Grown ass men… how old are you?”

“I’m fourteen! My birthday was last month,” Kenneth happily informs him. The baby fat on their cheeks makes Miles’s heart ache, and he struggles to smile. Did he used to look like that? Only fourteen, and having to deal with adults hating them to the point of beating them up for the way they dress and identify. Jesus. Maybe they’re more alike than he thought. 

“I just turned sixteen,” Miles admits.

“Really? Is that why you do that deep voice thing?”

Embarrassment makes him falter in step, nearly face planting on the ground. “Uh, no, I…”

Every possible answer he could give is embarrassing! Why did he even bring up age in the first place?!

Kenneth smiles and seems to consider him. “Y’know… if… I totally get it, if you do the voice for… other reasons. I mean, I know some guys who do that, but you already sound fine.”

“Thank you,” Miles takes the compliment with only the tiniest bit of confusion. Kenneth thought… ohhhh. Ohhhh. 

Should he correct them? 

Yes, duh. 

…

But he doesn’t really want to. Kenneth isn’t entirely sure that he’s transgender, just guessing, right? Is this bad? Is he doing something wrong right now not clearing this up?

He feels like he was just put on the spot in the middle of class or something. He shouldn’t be so anxious, this is ridiculous-- Kenneth’s the one that just got attacked!

But this is obviously also bad... but he's just so hesitant, for some reason.

“I won’t tell anybody, if you are like me,” Kenneth says softly, blood dried on their face but a sparkle in their eye, “don’t worry.”

____

Miles unlocks the door to his family’s apartment, still talking with Gwen. 

“--can’t believe it’s still on me either! Anyway, how about next weekend? The cafe probably won’t calm down for a week, and there’s a new garden here, the kind that offers tours and stuff. I saw some pictures online-- Hi Dad,” Miles says, nodding to his dad as he makes his way to his room.

“Miles? What’s that smell?” his dad asks him from his spot on the couch. He swings an arm over the back of it and fixes Miles with a quizzical look. Without his glasses on, his squinting looks even more suspicious.

“Uh, still that perfume,” Miles answers, wishing he got the power of teleportation instead of his super-anxiety. “I gotta go, let me know what you think,” he rushes out into the watch, quickly taking it off and shoving it into his jacket pocket.

His dad gets up and walks over, sniffing the air. “Oh, you… found another bottle?” he asks hesitantly, crossing his arms and tilting his head, “Jesus, that is strong.”

“Everyone else says it’s not,” Miles reassures him, “apparently they don’t even make this anymore?”

“I see why,” his dad mumbles, “so how… how was it?”

“How was what?”

“Going around, smelling like perfume all day. Nobody gave you any trouble?”

Miles hears that protectiveness in his dad’s question, and thinks about Norah and that man she was talking to, the men that attacked Kenneth, and his mom saying how she could say she was the reason for it yesterday. It all made him feel weird, like he was expecting something that he wasn’t even sure of.

“Nah. I mean, some people didn’t expect it, but nothing mean.”

“Okay, that’s good,” his dad nods, “want some spaghetti? Your mom’ll be home in a few minutes, come help set everything out.”

After dinner, which was only partially ruined for him and his dad because of his mom’s ER horror stories that she’s brought home today, Miles gets ready for bed. Well, a few hours of relaxing and maybe another patrol then actual bed. 

As he’s walking back to his room after his shower, legs freshly shaved and piercings cleaned, his dad stops him to ask him something, but stops mid-question with wide eyes. Miles smiles, unsure of what’s wrong, and tilts his head. Stuff about hair and a mustache are all he can make out of his dad’s incomprehensible (excited?) sputtering.

“How didn’t I see this earlier! I was right across from you!” His dad’s loud and all up in his face as he turns it every which way in search of more hairs.

“Maybe you just need new glasses,” Miles shrugs, trying to pull his face free as gently as possible.

“Rio! Get in here!” 

Miles resists the urge to roll his eyes. 

“What? What, is something wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong--”

“Miles is growing a beard!”

“Whaaat?” His mom’s sleepy eyes widen, a tired but proud smile growing on her face as she lightly slaps his dad’s hands away to replace them with her own. “Ahh, I see them! You’re growing up too fast!” She playfully slaps at his arm, “Stop it.”

“I’ll slow down,” Miles sighs exaggeratedly, head hanging like he’s just so inconvenienced.

“How didn’t I notice this? Can’t believe you’re growing into a man,” his dad places the heels of his palms on his forehead, eyes wide. “Next thing I know he’s off to college, getting married--” he starts rambling as he paces in the living area.

“Dad, really?” Miles puts his hands on his hips. “It’s just a little hair. It’s not even on my chin.”

“--us in a nursing home-- Just a little hair?! This is--”

“You’re really calm,” his mom whispers to him as they watch his dad continue to gesture wildly and wear down the floorboards. “You’re not even a little excited?”

“I freaked out about it earlier,” he whispers back with a small smile.

“You and your father, I swear,” she huffs with a shake of her head.

____

As he’s suiting up again after he’s sure his parents are asleep, his watch buzzes. Putting his glove in his mouth to free both hands, he grabs it to see a message from Margo.

|Margo Kess 22191-B: hey Gwen invited me to your garden thing next weekend but said she forgot to check with you 2 see if it was okay?

|Miles Morales 1610-B: It’s fine! We’ll have to get there pretty early like 9am maybe

|Miles Morales 1610-B: what time would that be for you

|Margo Kess 22191-B: uhh let me check

|Margo Kess 22191-B: that’s like 1pm for me :v dw

|Miles Morales 1610-B: alright that’s good! 

|Margo Kess 22191-B: : thanks! Gwen would have told you herself but she broke her phone

|Miles Morales 1610-B: fight gone wrong?

|Margo Kess 22191-B: she said everything was 2 loud and fast so she just crushed it in her hands this morning :/

|Miles Morales 1610-B: Oh it must’ve been from our trip to this cat cafe

|Miles Morales 1610-B: turned out to be a bad idea for us!

|Margo Kess 22191-B: i hope the garden doesn’t turn out 2 be like that </3 

|Miles Morales 1610-B: sameee

Once he’s fully dressed, he grabs a random jacket. It was a little too big, must’ve been one of the newer ones his mom bought him after his growth spurt. 

It’s a nice night , he thinks as he perches on the roof of a library. 

A cloudless starry sky, a nice breeze, and-- hold on, is that his physics teacher?

Mrs. Chesterfield and some man are walking together out of the J-Mart across the road. Oh man, should he say hi? No, right? No. That would be kind of weird, and she’s been a little annoying lately anyway. He doesn’t actually have anything to say to her anyway that wouldn’t expose who he is.

The man she’s walking with spots him and gives a small wave. Mrs. Chesterfield notices and gives a small wave as well, but with a pleasant smile.

Miles waves back, watching as they leave in their car. 

So weird. He knows, realistically, his teachers have lives outside of school, but to see them with other people, and doing what, going on a snack run? To see them do something so normal is just plain strange. He wonders how they clean their houses…

A quiet sound of paper ripping pulls him out of thoughts, and a faint whisper makes him look behind him. Hobie’s in the courtyard below, swiftly closing the portal behind him and jumping up to the roof to sit next to Miles.

“Relax,” Hobie tells him, “just checking on you.”

“Why?” Miles scoots over to put some comfortable space between them, “Did something happen?”

Hobie is quiet for a moment, mismatched eyes boring into Miles’s own and making him look to the side, before turning and facing ahead.

Alright, so he’s not going to get an answer?

“You can tell me, it’s fine,” he insists, but when Hobie doesn’t want to do something, he just won’t. Miles learned that the sorta-hard way when he kept expecting Hobie to continue conversations instead of letting an awkward silence take over. At first, it seemed like Hobie was just toying with him, but Gwen explained that Hobie was “just like that.”

The two sit in silence, Miles looking for a conversation starter. Something (most likely) happened, and things tend to be… pretty bad in Hobie’s dimension. 

As his eyes flit about, they land on the skirt Hobie’s wearing. It’s one of the old lady skirts Miles bought for him, but it’s been torn haphazardly at the end and stained with something, probably bleach? 

“I like what you did with the skirt,” he says, smiling. “Did you do the same with the other ones?”

Hobie shakes his head. “Gave ‘em away.”

“Oh, that’s nice! I was actually at a shelter a few days ago, I think I’m gonna go again to give some people my old clothes,” Miles says. Okay, so he wasn’t thinking that until now, but it still sounds like a good idea. Maybe he’ll see that manager lady again.

His mind drifts to the old man that kept arguing. Ugh. 

“S’good,” Hobie mumbles. “You and the others, you know you can come to me, yeah?”

Shit, was he not visiting Hobie’s dimension enough? Yeah, he doesn’t visit that much, but he thought Hobie preferred it that way!

“Yeah, of course! I’m sure the others know that too,” he nods, “well, you might have to remind Margo. She’s never even visited me before, and she’s only coming next weekend because Gwen asked her to.”

Hobie taps on the roof, “I meant, if your parents start that bullshit. But that too, that too.”

Miles’s anxiety turns to confusion. “Why would my parents get that mad? I mean, Spider-Man was an unpleasant surprise, sure, but--”

Hobie gives him a sad(?) look, which makes him stop and think. Does he do anything that--

Oh, DUH!

“I mean, I don’t think Mom and Dad would get mad at me dating Ganke, of all things to get mad at me about,” Miles rushes out, playing with the sleeves of his jacket. The anxiety comes back, settling in his legs and shoulders.

“I don’t wanna say don’t trust them,” Hobie says slowly, as if explaining bad news to a toddler, “but I want you to have a backup. Just in case.”

“Just in case,” Miles repeats, considering the possibility. “I just… I mean, I don’t think they’re like that. They’ve never said anything about… hating gay people or anything…” But what if…

“I don’t want you to freak out,” Hobie tells him quickly, squinting. “It’s just always a possibility, and I don’t want you to be lost if worse comes to worst. It’s smart.”

Miles brings his knees to his chin. His parents are good people, they wouldn’t hate him for something like this. They love him! But… he knows a lot of people say that, and don’t know for sure, and get a nasty surprise. He’s heard stories online and on the news that turn out even worse. 

“I’m not freaking out,” he says aloud, more for himself than Hobie. “I just never considered it before, y’know?” 

“Yeah. I know,” Hobie sighs. “I know.”

“Shit, man…” Miles says after a few moments of silence. “So… what should I do? I can’t just run away from here and leave my dimension without a Spider-Man.”

Hobie taps again. “That’s what you have us for.”

He briefly meets Miles’s eyes, and though he doesn’t smile, the warmth is there. It’s almost too much, but thankfully Hobie looks away first. “Just wanted to make sure you knew.”

“...Thanks,” Miles smiles. “Do you want to join me tonight? Or do you wanna go give the others the same talk?”

Hobie stands up, stretching his arms high above him. “I can tell ‘em after. Lemme get changed.”

Score!

A/N: past me was again not pleased with this chapter but it literally looks fine? it's short and sweet! well not sweet 100% but i feel like it's nicely packaged with a simple bow. kenneth nation sorry for hurting our cousin

[jpitha]

The K'laxi head of security flattened his ears in frustration and sighed.

"Okay. Go over it one more time."

"Right, so we were at the bar."

"Who was at the bar?"

"Me, Damien, Kenneth and N'ara"

"And all of you were drinking?"

"Well yes, it's a bar." The head of security flicks his ear, a raised eyebrow. "Sorry. Yes, N'ara was having vodka sodas, you know how K'laxi are with mixers - er, no offense."

"None taken."

"And Damien and Kenneth and I were having French 75s. You know, fancy, classic, tasty..."

"And easy to overindulge?"

He nodded, quickly, then winced at the headache. "Yeah, you understand! They sneak up on you. Anyway, we got to talking about Humans."

"But, you are Humans?"

"N'ara isn't. I think she was trying to hit on Kenneth. She was all - he at least had the good taste to not try and approximate a K'laxi accent - "tell me about yourselves! Earth sounds so interesting!" and so on and so on. Kenneth talked about how Humans have pretty decent reflexes and are decent at catching and throwing."

"Yes, I've seen you play - oh ancestors what was the name? - Ultimate Frisbee in the Commons."

"That game rules! You should come join the All Starbase League! It's a beer league, nothing too intense. We have lots of K'laxi on the team."

"Your reflexes?"

"Oh yeah yeah! Kenneth was like" Here, he lowers his voice. "I bet I have the best reflexes in the joint. I can catch anything you throw at me, go on and try!"

The head of security gestures for him to continue.

"So then Damien gets up and goes clear to the other side of the bar and shouts-" Here, his voice gets improbably high. "You think you're so good? Then catch THIS!" and whips his champagne flute right at him!"

The head of security makes a note "Which kicked off the bar fight."

"Yeah, he missed and just pelted some crewman from a Starjumper right upside the head. Anyway, it was pretty wild there for a few. I saw this human who looked like she was on a date with a K'laxi straight up catch a chair and put it down in one fluid motion!" He clearly was impressed.

He makes another note and puts the pad down. "It took 10 security personnel to break up the fight; the bartender says that fully two thirds of their glassware and half their chairs are broken. 3 people are in the infirmary. Everyone AND the security cameras say that you four started it, and you tell me that it was an accident because Kenneth was showing off to N'ara?"

He nods. "I mean, it sounds less cool in the morning and when you explain it."

He puts his head in his hands. Everyone starts bar fights when they get too drunk, but the Humans always wind up having...memorable ones.

"David, you were here two weeks ago for the...incident in Gene's Gym, weren't you?"

"Uh yeah, but that one wasn't alcohol related, I just thought that 4gees didn't sound that much and that Maxwell was just pretending how hard it was to show off." He rubbed his jaw. "Turns out he was really stacked."

"And last month, in the Commons? The Fountain?"

"I was sure it was a hologram."

The head of security stared at him hard for just a moment longer than was comfortable.

David dropped his eyes. "Sorry, Chief Y'meni"

"I'm not the one you should be apologizing to, David. You're on community service, two weeks. Every day - including the weekend - you're cleaning up the Commons for two hours and then you're volunteering to help at the bar, at the Gym and anywhere else people have requested assistance."

"Yes Chief."

"I mean it David. I'm going easy on you because you seem like a good guy, but you need to watch what you're doing. You're going to get hurt, or worse, hurt someone else."

"Yes Chief."

"Send in..." He looked at the pad. "Damien. I need to talk to him next."

[doraambrose]

Hello friends!

Just a heads up to whoever sent me an ask a while back asking for a drawing of dick and jason in cool fighting stances, I'm almost done. I wanted to make it special and not some copy and paste of something that already exists so while I don't feel comfortable calling it an original, it's a creation made using different aspects of different pictures and other art and not just a recreation of someone elses art or comic issue. Like for nightwing, I really wanted to incorporate Bruno Redondos style as much as I could because I'm obsessed with his work, but there was a specific pose i really loved and wanted to use made by another comic artist: Kenneth Rocafort. For jason, I wanted to find a way to incorporate his hood/ have mask current look into a specific dexter soy style pose. The biggest reason for the delay is that im very new to creating "my own art" that isnt a copy of someone elses. The exception being the skull i made and the batgirl drawing. The delay is also related to a previous post I made regarding how location affects the quality of my art. I also have a lucky pencil that makes me feel like a legit comic artist/animator. When I answer the ask with the finished drawing, I'll link all the supplies and references I used. Also, not to be that person, but I am a working college student with exams that just passed and one on Saturday and my education obviously is my highest priority. Anyway, I just wanted to clarify that I am in no way ignoring the ask and I apologize for the delay but I hope the end result will make up for it :)

[chocolatepot]

The Crow Road and Good Omens

When I watched season two of Good Omens for the first time, I noticed that Crowley throws Muriel a book at random near the end of the finale, but I didn't pay a ton of attention to it, because there was a lot going on. Then I started a second watch where I took notes on things that struck me, references or lines that couldn't just be random but had to merit a closer look. One of these things was the fact that Metatron asks Muriel about their book and they hold it up extremely conspicuously (twice) so that the title, The Crow Road, is very obvious. It seemed impossible to me that it was just a random book, so I ordered a copy from the library and settled in with it.

(The only copy in the system is held in the library my mother runs in another town. Coincidence? OR FATE?)

The Crow Road

The Crow Road is a hard book to sum up. There is a relatively straightforward "present day" plotline from a single character's perspective, but much of the book (particularly in the first half) consists of flashbacks.

I'm going to sum up the family relationships first, for simplicity's sake. Margot and Matthew McHoan are the parents of Hamish (married to Antonia), Kenneth (m. Mary), Fiona (m. Fergus Urvill), Ilsa, and Rory (who has been missing for years). Kenneth and Mary are the parents of Lewis, Prentice, and James. Fiona and Fergus are the parents of Diana and Helen), and Fiona is dead by the start of the book. Fergus's sister, Charlotte, married Steve and had a daughter, Verity. Rory dated Janice, who had a daughter, Marion. There is also an unrelated family, the Watts: Lachlan is in Kenneth's generation; his brother's kids, Ashley, Darren, and Dean, are in Prentice's.

Prentice is the main character, though the other bolded names are important. He's a middle child, jealous of his older brother (a successful comedian) and dismissive of his younger one (who barely turns up on the page anyway); he's in love with the gorgeous and unattainable Verity; he has simultaneous superiority and inferiority complexes that make him moody and self-righteous, sure that he's smarter than everyone else but at the same time terribly insecure. Relatedly, he's estranged from his father because he believes there's an afterlife and his father is a committed atheist.

The main plotline begins at Margot's funeral and cremation in 1989. Prentice leaves the post-funeral gathering (after Margot's body has exploded in the oven as they forgot to remove her pacemaker) for the pub, where he catches up with the Watts - he's at university and not around town. Ashley gives him a piece of the Berlin Wall and tells him that when she was there, she came across some man saying that the McHoan family was being tricked.

He starts to investigate the disappearance of his Uncle Rory, finding Janice and getting some of his papers from her. Weeks(?) later, he catches Verity and Lewis canoodling at the Hogmanay party at Urvill Castle; the next day at another party, he gets blackout drunk and embarrasses everyone by screaming at them. The next morning, told off by his mother and having a terrible, horrible, no-good day, he leaves his bag on the train - including all of those papers, only half of which he'd looked through.

After a dinner with Ashley in the city where she also tells him off for his poor choices (he's also failing at his classes and has gotten caught shoplifting), he gets a call to come home because his father has died: he was struck by lightning while climbing a church. Prentice starts to wonder more seriously about Rory's fate, now, and looks harder for clues. After they bury Kenneth and Lewis and Verity get married, he finds some old floppy disks in his parents' home marked as Rory's. Ashley realizes that the man from Berlin is actually a news correspondent who reports for the BBC around the world, and takes the discs to get investigated by her techie friends.

While he waits, Prentice finds some old diaries of Rory's as well, borderline incomprehensible because they're full of abbreviations. He goes with Ashley to a bar to find that news correspondent, who turns tail as soon as he sees him and mysteriously flees. Finally he gets the info from the discs: it's a narrative about Fergus catching Fiona in bed with Lachlan Watts, telling Rory about it, and then deliberately driving aggressively to cause the car accident where she died. This helps Prentice put together a strong theory that Rory went to Fergus to say he knew what had happened and Fergus killed him, then got the journalist to send then matchbooks from all over the world to make it seem like Rory is still alive. He goes to see Fergus about this, not being completely direct but still ... and that night the house is broken into and he's attacked, the intruder getting away with nothing.

Later, Fergus crashes his Cessna into the Atlantic after presumably having a heart attack in it. Not very far from the crash site, the police soon after come across a motorcycle with a body tied to it that is determined to be Rory, killed with blows to the head. The Bentley Eight Fergus left to Prentice in his will (originally it was to go to Kenneth) has a paperweight in the glove box that exactly matches the description of the murder weapon. Around this time, he completely loses any faith he had in religion.

Now that loose ends are tied up and Prentice is making better life choices, he and Ashley get together, fuck, and admit that they love each other - but she is still leaving for a job in Canada, and she says she'll come back once he's done with university (he's repeating a year) if he still loves her. He also goes back to Urvill Castle, where his cousin reminds him of a time they were all drunk/high up in the observatory and he was going on and on about the wonders of the stars and how they were better than religion, which spurred her to become an astronomer. The younger members of the family go back up there in order to do a determinedly unreligious "christening" ceremony for Lewis and Verity's baby, Kenneth.

Along the way in all this, there are flashbacks to Kenneth's childhood, youth, and young parenthood; to Rory's POV; to Prentice as a teenager - all of these help to build their characterization, and also that of other characters, as well as to drop clues about what Fergus did and what Rory was doing.

What is the Crow Road?

The "crow road" refers to three separate things in the book.

"Away the crow road" is a euphemism of Grandma Margot's to mean "died".

It's a literal road in their town, where Janice lives.

It's the title of the work Rory was building around the whole Fergus-Lachlan-Fiona story before, I assume, he realized that Fergus killed Fiona.

Death and Religion

Death is ... pretty central to the book. It starts with Margot's death, we're made aware of Fiona's at the funeral, we find out that Prentice and Kenneth's estrangement stems from Ashley's brother Darren's death in a motorcycle accident, Kenneth dies, Fergus dies. Prentice also gets to live in the home of an old rich woman who died while her will's being sorted out (a la Jarndyce v. Jarndyce) after his father's death, when he's turning his life around.

That estrangement is generally over religion, but more specifically Prentice's belief in a soul and afterlife. He has to believe that there is something of Darren that will go on, and Kenneth thinks this is utter stupidity. Kenneth has a lot of lines regarding religion/Christianity that, if tweaked to accept the existence of God but rejection of the religion and philosophy around said god, sound quite Crowleyish - religion is used to justify evil, the concept of original sin is inherently unfair, etc. And by the end of the book, when he tosses the paperweight that killed his uncle into the sea, Prentice has come to agree completely with his father.

Hamish, Kenneth and Rory's older brother, has his own spin on Christianity that's charmingly batshit and heretical. He thinks bad people have exactly the things done to them in the afterlife that they did to hurt others, and that there are versions of everyone alive there for the dead to interact with. After Kenneth's death he's completely shaken and briefly goes back to ordinary Christian beliefs before spinning off again. He comes across as deluded the whole time. He also has a line about God being a "strict father" which prompts Prentice to consider God as a child-abuser.

Toward the end, there's a flashback with Rory, who says he briefly had the belief that by humming a particular low note he could affect tv screens, but then he realized that it was vibrating his own head and only affecting his perception of them. The point of the flashback was for him to suggest that Fergus may not have even seen Fiona cheating (he was drunk), just imagined it, but it's not hard to see a critique of religion in this as well.

Love and Sex

Ohhh, is there a lot of these in the book. It's quite horny! Prentice hooks up with Marion as a teenager in an old car in the garage, which they basically destroy by accident; he also fucks her mother, Janice (who then takes up with his roommate so he has to be aware of them fucking all the time); he's constantly burning with lust for Verity - but Ashley is the only one he seems to actually love. Lewis and Verity have sex at the Hogmanay party. Kenneth and Mary have sex in a boat before they get engaged. Rory sees Fergus trying to get Fiona into bed at a wedding before they get together, and of course there's Fiona and Lachlan. Not to speak of the talking/thinking about masturbation present in many of the adolescent flashbacks.

There's also a lot of familial love. Kenneth loves the children (all the children, really, not just his own; he writes stories and creates games for them), Mary loves them, Margot loves the family, Rory and Prentice love each other. The Watt siblings love each other, coming together to destroy the concrete litter bin that killed Darren. Lewis and Verity love each other, and by the end, Lewis and Prentice are loving siblings again as well (nobody cares about James), and they both love baby Kenneth.

War

It doesn't really come up in my summary, but war is a strong part of the setting. The "present" of the book runs through the Gulf War, which is of great importance to the characters - they worry about a draft, they criticize both Saddam Hussein and the US's capitalist motives, at one point they consider it possibly the beginning of World War III. Kenneth's childhood is also during World War II: in one flashback, Lachlan explains to Kenneth and Fergus that his father uses their bread to strain green dye out of petrol to sell on the black market (technically postwar, but still during rationing).

So, How Does This Relate To Good Omens?

Well, all of these things are very much present in the show!

The main characters and the backdrop of Armageddon are of course drawn from the Bible, and it's hardly an uncritical use of a religious source - Heaven is no better than Hell, God is absent, and Crowley and Aziraphale are right for standing together to create their own side; as noted previously, it feels very in line with Kenneth's thoughts on religion as an institution. Death and war certainly come into it, though mostly as something to be averted in season one and presumably in season three again, and love is ... well, love is the point. They love each other, they love Earth - they love the universe, Crowley created all those marvelous stars. The ending of the book specifically lines up with the ending of season two, in that the main characters who love each other are temporarily separated. And of course, the story structure that's chock-a-block with flashbacks is highly reminiscent of season two, with its historical minisodes cut in with the present-day scenes to highlight important character background and parallels.

I don't think anything from the plot of this book is meant to be a clue as to plot developments in season three, although I don't think it's entirely impossible for the way the mystery of Rory and Fiona's deaths is solved through finding an answer in Rory's writing to be a reference to Aziraphale's diaries. But there is so much going on in the book that it's hard to pick out what it could be - working through Rory's papers/files is actually quite a minor part.

If it is supposed to presage something (rather than to be an easter egg so people who know the book can go, "oh, that book really works with this show!"), I think it's more likely to hint that Muriel is going to learn to think for themself and reject Heaven's orthodoxy, or else to more generally refer to Aziraphale realizing that he can't fix it.

[tarnishedinquirer]

Stormveil Hall

Leaving the church, I noticed something down below. It looked like another glowing painting. I'd need to find a way down there, and there didn't seem to be any stairs.

The walkway outside the church had a wall to the left and a bottomless pit to the right. The strange part was, down below I could see a soldier guarding the pit. Locked on the other side of a fog door, it seemed. Is he just stuck out there? Nah, they have to have a way to get through it. Hell if I know what though. So why do they need a guard for the bottomless pit?

I passed through a study, and then the upper mezzanine of a grand dining hall, and then something I never expected to see. A dead troll, butchered and hanging upside down. On the floor beneath was a pile of bodies wrapped in sheets being gnawed on by dogs.

I'll look at the bodies when I get three, but for right now I took a closer look at the troll. I'd noticed before that they have stone slabs in their chest, but this dead one was missing its slab. Does it decay upon death, or was it extracted for some purpose?

Rather than going through the door in front of me, I hopped a short wall and found another guard with a torch looking down into the abyss. Just what the hell's down there, anyway?

I'd found a cookbook on the broken bridge past Stormveil that told me how to make soft cotton that could stick to the feet and muffle your footprints. All you had to do was roast a rowa pod over your torch and it'd split right open. I applied some cotton to my feet, then climbed in through a window to sneak up on the patrolling Banished Knight.

With him out of the way, I could look around freely. It seemed like a council chamber. A long table piled with books and scrolls, overseen by a raised platform with three chairs behind another table. Behind them was a prominent tree symbol, and a chest to the left. There were two paintings by the fire, one of which was a smaller reproduction of the Stormhawk painting, and the other was a Banished Knight. Or at least, their helm.

Perhaps this is where the day to day operations of the castle were performed, back when the Banished Knights occupied it alone. It occurred to me that I've met three such knights of prominence." Edgar, Engvall, and Oleg.

Or maybe Godrick himself sat on one of those chairs, though from what I understand about him, he would likely not accept anyone else as equal.

With no further insights forthcoming, I checked the chest. Inside was a veil, which the voice called the Mimic's Veil

Golden veil of intricate design. When Godrick was hounded from Leyndell, the Royal Capital, this was one of a multitude of treasures he took with him. Also known as "Marika's Mischief."

So, a treasure looted from the Capital, used for disguise. I have to wonder if turning people into a chair is all it can do. Maybe it lost power over time, or maybe someone more skilled with it than I could use it to disguise themselves in other ways? Fits with what Kenneth Haight said about Godrick disguising himself as a woman to flee the Capital.

Speaking of, it says he didn't just flee with the refugees out of cowardice, he was hounded. He must've committed some crime, or at least been suspected of one.

Calling it "Marika's Mischief" comes out of nowhere. There's gotta be a story there I'm not privy to. A legend of Marika disguising herself to test mortals, or something like that.

The council chamber led right into an open kitchen attached to a feasting hall. Smoked meats hung from the ceiling, but I wouldn't trust any meat from this place. The bodies stacked up near the cauldron said that was a good decision.

Stalking the hall was a Grafted Scion. It was time for me to actually kill one of these bastards. Unfortunately, I very quickly ran out of Cerulean Tears and had to fight it in close quarters. There was a pattern to its flailing, and only two of its arms were actually dangerous. It leaped at me, and I lunged underneath it, scoring its belly open.

Only now did I get a good look at the abomination, and I realized with horror it was a child. All of these things, these spiders, were children.

Grafted Scion. Dammit.

The entire hall was stacked high with sheet-wrapped bodies. The "Chrysalids" Roderika spoke about, I assume. Hanging from the ceiling were grotesque amalgamations of limbs. Experiments in grafting, presumably. I hope they weren't still alive.

But dominating the entire scene was an enormous portrait of a lord in his splendor, a lion attached to his back. I was reminded a little of the image of Horah Loux from my death dream, who also according to legend had a lion on his back. At the foot of the painting was a burnt corpse, carrying an axe. It almost looked like a burnt offering to the portrait.

It was the spitting image of the axed depicted in the Axe Talisman, which mentioned a Lord who led the Long March into exile.

Pieces clicked together. I didn't even need to look at the title plate below the portrait, but I did it anyway to confirm my conclusion.

Godfrey, Lord of Stormveil

Crap. I'd gotten that one completely wrong.

Who were the three chairs for?

Who were the Scions' parents?

What lurks in that abyss that they have to have guards at nearly every ledge?

What mischief did Marika pull with that veil?

Why was Godrick driven from the capital?

Who is depicted at the Chapel of Pilgrimage, then? Likely Radagon.

What's the connection between Horah Loux and Godfrey?

[mygreatadventurehasbegun]

Fuck, Oppenheimer is intense.

I mean, it’s no surprise, given it’s subject matter...but there are several scenes that have nothing to do with the actual bomb itself that are so gripping, I was hanging on every word.

While the movie is three hours long, it doesn’t feel like (except when we were getting close to the end, but that’s because it’s tough to sit in one position for that long)...the pacing it very fast...and since I don’t know much about this period of history, I really had to pay attention, because there is a lot of information being given by so many characters.  I think this might be why they chose to cast so many known actors for characters who only appear in two or three scenes.  The cast is mostly male, and in the 1940′s, guys tended to look alike...similar haircuts, always wearing suits, etc.  It can make it tough to distinguish one character from another...but if you see an actor onscreen and go “hey, it’s Rami Malek!” or ”I didn’t know Tony Goldwyn was in this movie!” it will help you remember who everyone is.

But seriously, the cast list they have for this movie is bonkers:

Cillian Murphy (of course), Emily Blunt, Robert Downey Jr., Matt Damon, Florence Pugh, Josh Hartnett, David Krumholtz, Alden Ehrenreich, Rami Malek, Dane DeHaan, Kenneth Branagh, Tony Goldwyn, Harry Groener, Josh Peck, Alex Wolff, and Gary Oldman!  *And this all off the top of my head, I’m sure I missed some*

Robert Downey Jr. is phenomenal.  I know we’re a long way from the Oscars, and who knows what is going to happen with the strikes (hopefully the writers and actors getting what they want), but I want him to be nominated for Best Supporting Actor.  Obviously, it’s very early, but I’d be very happy if he won.  His performance shows us what we’ve been missing with him playing Iron Man for so long...and he’s great as Tony Stark, but I’m glad he’s able to move on and do more work like this, because damn, he’s good in this movie.

And I have to talk about Cillian Murphy.  He carries this movie on his back, and he is fantastic.  There’s a lot of scenes where he is just sitting there...thinking...and you are so engrossed.  

And I have a little side tangent about him for a sec...about halfway through the movie, someone was speaking offscreen...and the voice sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place it...and after a minute I thought “ROBIN WILLIAMS?!”  Now, it wasn’t him, of course...it was actually Cillian Murphy...but the vocal choice he made for this movie actually made him sound a lot like older Robin Williams...like from the late 90′s/early 2000′s.  It was so uncanny, it actually took me a while to stop hearing it.

Anyway...this movie is fantastic and absolutely needs to be seen on a big screen!  The sound design alone is worth the price of admission.