#archivist powers: activated

[phantomrose96]

Season 3 Elias is so goddamn fucking funny to me I forgot what a rollercoaster he was during my first listen.

Like the s2 finale has Jurgen Leitner giving Jon the whole "monsters are real speech" and Jon's like "I need a cigarette. NO ONE get brutal pipe murdered while I'm gone" and Jurgen fails step 1 because Elias walks in and grabs Jon's point-and-click-adventure pipe he'd been carrying around and Brutal Pipe Murders. Which, of course, Jon walks back in on and is prime suspect #1 due to literally every single feature trait and word he's said in the entirety of s2.

So naturally s3 starts with Jon on the lam and Officer Tonner like "I'm gonna arrest him for brutal pipe murder" and I'M like "Shit. I hate this. Elias is going to SO easily pin it on Jon and get away with it."

EXCEPT Elias walks in and is like "hello Ms. Officer no Jon Archivist did not kill that man, also I won't tell you anything else, also this is what you sound like" while reciting all her childhood trauma and all her illegal activity that will get HER sent to jail for brutal murder of the non-pipe variety and now I'm like "....huh." He's also like "Jon didn't do it but you can kill him if you want maybe :)" Elias your alibi????

And then we come BACK with Jon storming Elias's office with his two lesbian bodyguards as back up and he's like "I'm gonna use my powers to make you confess to pipe murder!" At which point Elias is like "It doesn't work on me. But I'm having fun so Martin go get everyone I need to tell you all how I committed pipe murder." and Martin does and Elias is like "Yes I pipe murdered. I also killed Gertrude. I love murder. You will not be compensated extra for this time. Get back to work." And they... DO... just go back to work. Because work is haunted. One of the lesbian police officers works here now, too. This just happened. "Also living dolls from Russia are about to Apocalypse the world, Jon go stop it," Elias says, while also saying "no I'm not gonna tell you how to stop it."

Okay???? Mr. Elias man??? And you're like "maybe he's a ruthless tactician? Maybe he's brutal but it's all in the interest of stopping the doll apocalypse??? He wants to save the earth???" Except THAT'S not even true it's actually more like he's trying to get the Russian dolls kicked out of line at Disney World so HE gets to meet Mickey Mouse first by which I mean, start his OWN Apocalypse, because if the dolls do it first well then what's the point of apocalypsing a planet that's become someone else's sloppy seconds.

Anyway Elias's master strategy here is to bring the human equivalent of a drowned cat to the gun fight and just sit back and watch Jon fall down every set of stairs he finds while Elias goes "This is good. This will work." His name isn't even fucking Elias.

[jinjeriffic]

DC x DP prompt/ficlet

Throwing my hat in the ring with this idea that has been doing the zoomies in my brain for days. The Tim/Danny Accidental Ghost Marriage to Fake Dating to Friends to Lovers AU:

Pariah Dark was a piece of shit. Before his imprisonment, mortals would sometimes manage to bargain with the Ghost King for scraps of power. One of the "standard" deals was to send PD a "Bride" to play with and feed on (because I HC he feeds on fear and pain) and what better way than a little mortal battery that couldn't get away from him? The deal was sealed with a cursed amulet. Now in one instance, the contract was never fulfilled (maybe the petitioner died before he could complete his half) and the amulet was lost. After Pariah was imprisoned and couldn't make deals anymore the knowledge of the rituals needed was gradually forgotten since they didn't work anymore...

Eventually the amulet gets dug up by archeologists (maybe in Egypt or Mesopotamia?) and ends up in a traveling exhibit in Gotham. A Rogue robs the place (Riddler? Two-Face? doesn't really matter). When the Bats show up to foil the robbery, during the fight with the goons a drop of Red Robin's blood gets on the amulet, there's a blinding flash of green light and the amulet is suddenly glued to him.

While everyone is dazed by the ghostly magic flashbang, Fright Knight pops out of a portal, yoinks Red Robin across his saddle and jumps back through the portal before anyone can stop him. Cue the Bats trying to frantically figure out what in the multi-dimensional occult hell happened and where RR went?!

Meanwhile, Danny is disturbed to receive a ghostly missive in his college dorm to tell him that his Mail Order Bride has been delivered to his Ghost Zone Palace and is awaiting him so they can consummate their Unholy Matrimony.

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

Danny: Wtf I have to study I don't have time to get MARRIED

Fright Knight: I'm sorry my liege, but according to the laws of ghosts, gods and magic you already ARE

Danny: Wtf. How did this happen?

RR: I would like to know that too

Danny: Oh shit, you're a superhero. Frighty, you can't just kidnap people! Especially not SUPERHEROES!

RR: While that's good to hear, I would really like to know about this supposed marriage..?

FK: I am not aware of the exact details, I was merely summoned to retrieve the Bride of the Ghost King. There used to be standard magical contracts for this, which went into effect when the Bride bled on the King's Token...

RR: Shit

Danny: Hold on, PARIAH got married? Multiple times??

FK: ...but we can always consult the Royal Archivist, if we can dig him out from under the several thousand years worth of paperwork that piled up while there was no King actively ruling...

Danny: Oh ancients, am I gonna have to deal with that?? I have exams to prepare for, dude!

RR: ...the dead still have to do exams? And paperwork?? *horror*

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

Some time and explanations later...

Royal Archivist: It took some digging, but I believe I have found the contract in question. You are one Timothy Drake-Wayne, correct?

Tim: Fml

RA: Ahem. The contract was sealed with your mortal blood, as is standard procedure. Congratulations, you are officially King-Consort of the Infinite Realms! Until death do you part, and all that

Danny: Can I see that contract? ...This isn't in English

RA: Oh dear, looks like we will have to schedule your Royal Highness classes in reading cuneiform/hieroglyphics

Tim: Okay, does it say anywhere in that contract how to dissolve it? What's the procedure for a ghost divorce? Fright Knight mentioned the previous king being married multiple times

RA: Well usually, when Pariah tired of a consort he would simply devour their soul...

Danny: Ewwwww I am so not doing that

Tim: I concur. I can't imagine my soul would taste good anyway

Danny: That's what you took from that??

RA: ...but when you die and your soul passes into the Afterlife proper, the contract will be fulfilled. As long as you're not resurrected again.

Tim: Nuts, there goes that loophole

RA: Until then you are the Consort and duty-bound to fulfill his Royal Highness' every whim; ghostly, spiritual, carnal...

Danny: *sinks through the floor in embarrassment*

Tim: Can't he just... release me from the contract? Take the amulet off me or something?

RA: Not without obliterating your soul, no

Danny and Tim: Fuck

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

Some time later, while Danny is away consulting other ghosts on possible ways of dissolving the contract, they discover the nasty little clause that if Tim isn't in regular physical contact with Danny the amulet starts draining his life force. To prevent victims from escaping you see... Danny really really hates Pariah right now.

They eventually return to the mortal plane to explain to the Batfam what the hell is going on and that they're still trying to fix it. In the meantime, Danny can't miss any more classes (studying areospace engineering at MIT or sth) and Tim has to stick close to him because of the curse...

Alfred: Oh dear, looks like Master Timothy will have to go to college after all *unflappable British Smugness*

Bruce pulls a lot of strings to fast track Tim getting his high school diploma and let him attend classes with Danny (he's not officially enrolled yet, but Money, Dear Boy). They never know when Danny has to respond to a ghost emergency or Red Robin to a Bat emergency, so they stay pretty much joined at the hip in their civilian lives. Of course there's gonna be rumors. Why did the Wayne CEO suddenly drop everything to go to college? So they make up a story about Danny and Tim having been secret boyfriends for a while and Tim becoming so smitten that he moves with him to Boston...

Cue the fake dates, interviews with magazines, couple photoshoots to really sell the bit... and the two young men gradually becoming friends... and then "Feelings?? But what do I do?? He was forced into this?" etc.

[cirrus-grey]

TMA 122:

Statement of uh, uh, Lorell St. John regarding, uh... zombies. Original statement given 1st February, 2015. Recording by Jonathan Sims. The Archivist.

TMA 53:

My biggest concern right now is whatever creature Mr. Heller encountered down there. It was 56 years ago, but if it’s still alive, I should be careful. What was it? A guardian of some sort? Or perhaps… perhaps… it too was once an Archivist.

TMAGP 26:

It was holding a tape recorder to Mr. Jarrod’s mouth, like it was trying to catch his dying words.

“Who are you?” I asked it.

“An Archivist,” it replied.

I know many people have already pointed out that [ERROR] could be the same kind of being that was under Alexandria, but this phrasing in particular is making me certain of it. A living, breathing, active Archivist like Jon is "the" - the one and only, the main focus of the Eye. The ones that linger after their Archives are forgotten - not alive, not dead, but somewhere in between - are just "an". One of many, still holding the title - still powerful - but far less human.

There are a ton of other parallels between the two that are making me so curious what our Alexandria guy got up to between - potentially - being released by Mr. Heller and finding its way to the Panopticon: basement Archive, the main building/library is burned down on top of it, it remains locked down there until some unsuspecting explorer unintentionally gives it the key... I wonder if there was an [ERROR] drifting around in the TMA world too, hunting people with a quill and parchment rather than a tape...

.

.

.

(Celia's phrasing is also very telling as to what she's been expecting to find.

TMAGP 26:

"No, I mean, something isn't right.… The External, the Archivist, it’s not acting how I would have expected..."

No, it's certainly not acting how the Archivist would. An Archivist, on the other hand...)

[artigas]

I’m really happy that Black Sails is experiencing a bit of a renaissance, but (predictably) some of the takes I’m seeing online are so busted. It’s wild to me that anyone would complain about the fact that Anne Bonny kisses Jack after she’s developed this life-changing relationship with Max. It’s absolutely wild to see anyone roll their eyes or feel uncomfortable about the fact that Flint has sex with Miranda when he returns to her in season one or that Max is most likely a lesbian but actively has sex with men for pay and knows how to make that pleasurable. It’s crazy to me that some of the very audiences who claim to want queer representation feel so discomforted when they actually see the mess and seeming inconsistencies of queerness that they asked for.

The reality is that there are lesbians who have had (and will have!) meaningful, mutually-gratifying, and deeply sexual relationships with men. There are gay men who’ve enjoyed having sex with women, who are gay as the day is long and nevertheless feel sexually attracted to a woman or two and are nevertheless gay men, full stop. There are gay cis men who are happily married to trans women. There are femme dom tops and butch bottoms and there are mascs afab people who like femme boys. There are non-binary people and trans men who actively identify as lesbians. There are ace and aro people who enjoy thinking about and engaging with sex — sometimes in fiction and sometimes in real life. Queerness, in fiction and in reality, defies neat categorization. That is the beauty, power, and (perceived) unorthodoxy of queerness.

Now, I’ll say this — do I think the straight men behind Black Sails were actively thinking deeply and insightfully about the paradoxes and fuckery of queer identity when they wrote Black Sails? No! By their own admission, Steinberg and Levine have owned up to the fact that some of the writing of the show was really hinged on their own blind spots as people who are not (to my knowledge) members of the queer community. If I want to be generous, I think that the beautiful mess of Black Sails is that, in not feeling like experts enough to designate specific identity labels to any of their characters, the writers stumbled their way into more authentic representation of lived queer experience, which is to say that the notion that James Flint was actively thinking of himself as a gay man was anachronistic. As many lesbian archivists and theories have noted, the notion of a queer identity — as in, queerness is who you are, not what you do — was patently unthinkable for most cultures in the past. In other words, the idea that Anne Bonny operates in the eighteenth century as a lesbian and thus would not willingly engage in relationships with men is not only untrue of the series, but untrue of most recorded lesbian experiences in the real world. The notion that a lesbian would operate her entire life without engaging sexually or romantically with men, for instance, is a very new privilege that some of us are very lucky to enjoy, but it is not true for the vast majority of human history — hell, it’s not even true of our present world.

This is all to say that think that there’s something really funny about how we want queer characters to fit into neatly organized boxes. This isn’t a new problem, either. When the show was still airing, the BS fandom would get itself into tizzies about wether or not Flint is gay or bisexual, wether or not Anne Bonny is a lesbian, wether or not Silver is queer when his only canonical relationship is with Madi, etc etc. We’ve been having these discourses for years and I don’t know. I get that much of it is fueled by how badly some people want to see themselves represented in media, but . . . well. The siloing of queer characters and queer narratives into neat little boxes has never felt very authentic to me and nine times out of ten, it’s also just so damn boring.

[baldurs-gape]

There's a tower in Waterdeep, it's old now, so very old. Stories say it belonged to a wizard once, powerful and a little less mad than most of his kind. His name was lost to the past, though when the wind blew harshly it was said it still wailed for him as it whistled past the tower. Nobody knows who owns the tower now, yet all its bills and taxes are paid on time. Not only that, it is also maintained, repaired and tended to in a style that befits its age. Alas there was no sign of who did all the upkeep, the tower wasn't occupied according to city records.

Children were warned away from the place. As splendid as the garden looked, meticulously cultivated, the lure of forbidden mystery was strong. Despite their attempts, the closest they got was into the garden. None of them ever came to harm but if flowers were maliciously picked or destroyed, the parents got a very sternly worded warning about vandalism delivered onto their pillow without a trace of origin. Aside from children not many people bothered to try and force entry into the tower. The few adventurers who tried to get creative with their entrance were all thwarted. Every ward and protective spell was carefully maintained, just like the rest of the tower.

Only once did the city make an attempts at brute force entry. Mages disarmed the traps, a rogue picked the lock while a couple of barbarians and rangers wore down the door enough for the rogue to reach through and lift the bar keeping the door closed from the inside. It then swung open on silent hinges and darkness greeted those gathered to take a peek. Shining a light in had been a mistake as too many pairs of eyes reflected back in greens, yellows and reds.

Braced for a fight, protective shields and wards were rapidly fired up as the city's law enforcement hurried to contain what was to come. Spells, bows and axes were readied, waiting for the first strike from within. A lone, small figure sauntered out of the tower in a leisurely stroll, a tressym. She was old, grey around the muzzle yet her fur was shiny and rich while her wings were regally held tucked in at her sides. Gaze slowly sweeping the gathered assault team, her tail flicked in displeasure and disdain before she turned to inspect the damage to the doors and the garden.

"The council will receive bills for the repairs," she announced, voice warped with age. With that, her tail flicked in the air as she turned and marched back into the darkness of the tower, dismissing her stunned audience. The remains of the doors pulled shut and nothing more was heard from within. It didn't matter who addressed the occupants of the tower, whether it was polite requests for communication or shouted threats. No reply came forth and the one time the rogue moved to open the doors again, a firebolt singed questing fingers in warning.

As the tressym had promised, the bills for repairing the damage to the door and the trampled garden was on the Lord of Waterdeep's desk the following morning. Everything was being to its original state by traditional methods, no expenses spared. Even the cost of reestablishing the wards was meticulously noted. Needless to say, it was an expensive mistake for the city and payment was only accepted in gold left by the front door.

Not all was lost though. Finally there was a clue to who lived in the tower. The tressym was a rarity enough for there to be records on who they associated with in the city. While archivists dove into that aspect of the mystery, the common folk of Waterdeep invented their own game: Tressym Watch. As the tower became known for housing a tressym, people began to keep an eye out for sightings. Conspiracy theories blossomed in taverns as notes were compared. Though sightings were rare, there were other signs of tressym activity. The streets around the tower were clear of vermin, stunningly so. Not only that but very few birds passed over the tower too and never courier pigeons. When someone finally had the bright idea to ask the pigeons, all they knew was that for generations they had been warned from passing any roof in reaching distance. Each squab was taught the simple rhyme as soon as they hatched.

Be quick on the wing, lest you feel the dekariosancunin sting. It's best to avoid the tower and be safe from clawed, toothed power.

Theories went wild after that. Arguments broke out in all circles of society over what 'dekariosancunin' meant. Some were a staunch believer of it being 'The Kariosancunin' and were quick to laugh at those who searched the 'Dekariosan cunin' like it was some variant of the common cumin. A third faction looked for 'The Kariosan Cunin' in old tomes and history books. In the end, they were all wrong as the city's records shed a glimmer of hope.

Some four hundred years ago a wizard by the name of Gale Dekarios died. He'd lived to a respectable age for a wizard, retired from a career at Blackstaff and enjoyed a long retirment. According to records he had never married, had no children and no living descendents. More importantly, he had a tressym as a companion. Records at Blackstaff Academy noted he was known to teach with a tressym in tow despite repeated warnings to not bring a familiar with him. Other than that, Dekarios seemed to have had no major achievements on record, he was remembered as no more than a tressym loving eccentric.

At least some of the mystery was solved. However, nobody knew what 'ancunin' meant. Alas, records were limited and Dekarios had retired roughly 200 years before his death. History had a knack for recording the deeds of the noisiest, not the most worthy.

By the time all this was unveiled, the tower had been dubbed Tressym Tower and the name stuck. It was home to a whole colony of tressym as sightings were tracked, cross-referenced and various members of the colony identified.

Trouble brewed when word spread about the tressym and people flocked to see them, a rarity as they were. So called scientists tried to capture them, study them, tag them for tracking. Others wanted to snag one as a pet or familiar. Illegal traders lurked in wait for an unwary tressym to land in their traps. Yet no matter how elaborate they were, every trap was meticulously disarmed and stripped for parts. Even the ones that required opposable thumbs to disassemble.

Whispers of the tressym vigilante went up. It had to be a group of people banding together to work against the traps yet nobody was ever seen anywhere near them. The odd mumbling from a drunkard here and there was laughed off but a story was forming all the same. The Tressym Vigilante was a handsome man, hair white as it glimmered in the moonlight and his eyes were as red as a tressym's reflecting in torchlight and teeth as sharp as the canines of a prime hunter.

Soon, new stories were added to the tales to warn children away from Tressym Tower. If they didn't behave or got too close then Ancunin the Tressym Vigilante would steal them away and lock them in the dungeons below the tower.

[lets-try-some-writing]

Young Titan

Primes do not live long. This is a fact that everyone on Cybertron has long come to understand. To take the Matrix is to become a martyr, an offering to the people to preserve Cybertron. No Prime has lived long... at least until Optimus.

Now millions of years old and nourished by war and millennia of memory, the Last of the Primes will show all of Cybertron what happens when a Prime is allowed to progress naturally.

(In short: Another funky jam Au for all yall. Enjoy)

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙

War followed them through time and space. There was no escape, not even on Earth. Part of Megatron wanted to stop, but how could he now? So many millennia at war with his foe ensured that there was simply no other choice but to win, to end this conflict.

Optimus Prime had exceeded his every expectation. In the beginning he had fully expected to have to throw his very spark into the war effort. Primes were strong when they were young. But ultimately, Megatron was living under the assumption that the war would come to a close when Optimus inevitably kicked the bucket. The Prime was too strong and too clever to be killed in battle. The most logical end for the war would have to then be when Optimus lived out his life as every Prime before him.

Primes never made it past a million years. Every single one of Optimus's predecessors all met their end long before the million year mark. There was no reason to think Optimus would be any different.

He really should have known his former brother would exceed expectations.

The war went on, and Optimus kept. On. Living.

Nothing kept him down. The Prime got back up and continued the war. Megatron waited, and as the cycles ticked by and the million year mark grew closer, he became more and more concerned. There was no waning in Optimus's power, nor did his mind seem to be deteriorating. If anything, he grew more cunning with time. It was a slow progression, but Megatron saw it. The way Optimus's passion dulled and his rage and empathy shifted. The war stopped being about them and instead became a concept.

Megatron fought, but as he did so, part of his drive changed. Optimus stopped looking at him with the rage of the archivist who was forced to raise a blade as cities burned. Now he watched simply, calmly even. He observed and did what was required. There was no true wrath there, only sorrow and the anger of something unnatural when Autobots and Decepticons alike fell in the line of duty. Megatron did everything in his power to bring out the rage he knew so well. He wanted to see Optimus seethe. He wanted to know that he was not the only one invested in their war. He had to be sure that he was no the only one feeling the loss, the anger, the desperation to win.

Few times did he manage to succeed in his goal. He could count on his digits the number of times Optimus raged as the war started to reach its grim conclusion. By the time the Allspark was sent away, the Prime no longer showed much of anything. He was stoic, unfeeling in the way one feels nothing for insects beneath their pedes. Against Megatron's fears, Optimus did not grow corrupt. Instead, he took his people to the stars and their war continued.

On and on it went, even on Earth. Then, shortly after the arrival of the Elite Guardsmech, things changed. Megatron sensed something was brewing long before, but when the Autobots fell to panic, he knew that whatever his spark warned him of was beginning to form.

Optimus vanished. Not a spark knew where he went. According to reports and what could be gathered from frantic Autobot patrols, the Prime had simply wandered off into the night and never come back. His signal was still active, but his Autobots were unable to trace his location. Megatron couldn't help but search. He reasoned it was to kill his foe while he was weak and alone, but deep down he knew it was because something big was happening. Weeks went by without any sign of him. Megatron was never one to write Optimus Prime off as dead after so many shattered expectations, but he couldn't help but wonder if his life had finally reached its end.

Three months after Optimus's disappearance, Soundwave reported the Autobots gathering around a point of interest. When the Nemesis reached the location in question, Megatron could hardly believe his optics. The Autobots swarmed the area, fortifying and guarding it with their lives. The basic structure of walls and other buildings was clear as day. Wires crept long exposed beams and energon crystals had been turned into liquid which pooled at the center of it all.

But more than that, what left Megatron in awe was the simple fact that spreading along the ground-

Was living metal.

━━━━━━

Ratchet had been with Optimus since the beginning. He watched his friend take on what was essentially martyrdom for the sake of their people. He watched Optimus come into being. He watched his friend turned Prime lead their people to war. And most notably, he watched the changes that occurred in the Prime as time passed.

He grew distant, and not necessarily in the manner of the corrupt. He still mourned the dead and he still felt rage for the loss of their world. But from what Ratchet saw, Optimus felt no solid connection to their faction or any direct function. He said he was a Prime for all of Cybertron, and despite fighting Megatron, to Ratchet it looked as though it were merely a force of habit rather than true conflict.

He cared, he loved, but he did so in a manner more akin to a watchful guardian vaguely displeased with the antics of sparklings. It was infuriating at times, and Ratchet was only able to confirm his friend was still in there when Optimus had moments of rage.

He sensed something in Optimus as he aged. Ratchet grew weaker, bitter, weighed down by aches and pains. Optimus on the other hand seemed to grow stronger. His power did not outright increase, but his spark readings came back stronger than ever and he seemed to be accumulating mass. He didn't get much taller after his initial transformation to Prime, but he got denser. He could put away energon like no one's business and the mech just seemed to gain a more oppressive presence with every passing vorn.

He asked Optimus about it. Optimus had no real answers.

"None have lived as long as I have. This is new, but it is right. I feel that soon I will find my true function. My design shall be made clear."

On and on it went. Times changed, war continued, and Optimus grew more and more imposing. Ratchet half expected him to combust or to lose his mind like many a Prime before him. Instead, a few years into their stay on Earth, Optimus vanished like smoke. He left a simple note telling Ratchet that they would be meeting soon, but that was all. Weeks of frantic searching yielded nothing... at least until they found the only place on the planet where living metal creeped across rock and soil.

Ratchet led the team there, Ultra Magus serving alongside them. When they arrived, they did not know what they were looking at. The beginnings of buildings were forming on their own, and they were quite obviously of Cybertronian origin. Energon gathered on the ground in pools and ran through fuel lines imbedded in the very earth beneath their pedes. The ground itself shifted as they stepped upon it, wires crept from cracks to brush against them.

The land itself was greeting them, and the further into the strange collection of half finished structures they wandered, the more and more familiar it all felt. Ratchet really wasn't sure what he should have expected, but it most certainly was not the frame, or at least what remained of Optimus Prime's frame, sprawled out on the ground connected to a million and one wires. The Prime's spark was not in its chamber, instead it was contained by a structure just beyond what looked to be Optimus's corpse. It thrummed and flared, just as bright and active as ever. The wires continued to run along their frames, the ground shifted beneath them, a gentle rumbling greeting them.

Ratchet looked on, and he did not feel grief. His Prime was not dead. He was welcoming them.

"Optimus greets you."

A voice spoke and that was when Ratchet and the rest saw the true purpose of the place before them. A newbuild, one whose paint still gleamed with the freshness of the newly forged stood before them. A brand new life, a phenomenon that had not been witnessed since the Exodus. Others were developing, their sparks connecting to the living metal all around. This place was a hotspot, and life was forming right before their optics.

"He is happy to see you."

The newbuild smiled, and Ratchet was unsure whether to laugh or to cry. Of course Optimus would do something like this.

Of course he would turn himself into a fragging Titan.

[brettanomycroft]

Signals from Somewhere Else

After episode 22 of Protocol, there’s one thing (okay, maybe two things) that everyone is going to be talking about. But I don’t want to talk about that thing (yet. Okay, I lied, it might come up). Instead, I want to dive into some of the implications of this week’s case and how they might relate FR3-D1 [Error], and even Isaac Newton.

Spoilers for TMAGP episodes 21 and 22 below the cut. CW: we’re gonna talk about the brain stuff; probably overuse of the words “fleshy” and “wet” by I blame AJN for that.

Our case in this episode, graciously recounted by Peepaw Augustus, focuses on real-life German psychiatrist and neurologist Hans Berger, whose work led to the invention of the EEG and furthered our understanding of how brainwaves work. The experiment described in the case mirrors actual experiments that Berger completed while working at the University of Jena, including experimentation on a subject with a deformity that allowed easy access to the brain and the placement of silver wires under the scalp to measure electrical activity. Even Berger’s disappointing initial results seem to be in line with history.

Like in real life, the cosmic horrors of this case begin when Berger takes a little depression nap.

The description of “an ocean, deep and unforgiving… full of dark secrets” creates a striking image to be sure, but what’s more interesting to me here is what he recalls next: the “radio signals, invisible and unknowable.” Berger laments that it’s a “shame these two things would never meet,” and then proceeds to enable such a thing to happen, whether he realizes it or not.

He wakes up and is immediately “inspired” to alter the setup he is using to record Herr Schmidt’s brain activity. While Berger is unable to explain how he came up with the idea (we could tell him: it was The Horrors, bud), he transforms his recording device (an early version of an EEG) into a two-way wireless telegraph, using poor Herr Schmidt’s brain as the receiver for the very radio waves that, perhaps, were never meant to make contact with the world below. Berger sent a politely phrased request into the void, and the void screamed back.

Who or what was on the other side can only be guessed at. Was it John/Martin/Jonah, individually or Frankensteined into some horrid chimerical conscience (please read this great post and have your heart broken like me)? Was it The Fears of the Archives-verse, recombined and tossed about like naughty pears in a pear wiggler? Or was it something or someone else entirely? I’m leaning towards JMJ, in parts or as a whole, specifically because I suspect that Hans Berger’s strange (and wetly explosive, thanks Alexander J. Newell) discovery provides a clue to how [Error] and possibly FR3-D1 operate.

Let’s start with [Error]. Here’s what we know about them so far:

They were locked up in tunnels or a basement space under the Archivist’s office at the Manchester Magnus Institute

Something about them causes people, dead and alive, to recount their fears or horrible things that have happened to them (I am not using the word compel here, even though it is used in the transcript for episode 21, and that is on purpose)

They seem very invested in getting the entire story out (this is, admittedly, speculation, as it’s unclear as to whether “THERE IS MORE” is in reference to more victims or more of Gwen’s story)

They have some really weird dogs

I’ve seen a lot of folks speculate that [Error] is or was the Head Archivist in the Protocol universe, and I’ve also seen a lot of folks speculate that [Error] is or was John (and therefore also The Archivist). I think either of these could be true, but more than anything, I think [Error] is a high-powered antenna with the ability to turn the people around them into speakers. Or maybe Speakers? I do love a good capitalization.

What if the “esteemed brethren” of The Magnus Institute were all too aware of the unusual results of Berger’s experimentation, and hoped to tap into the unusual consciousness(es) floating around in the radio waves and ether of the universe by creating their own version? Perhaps they thought they could create a direct conduit (think almost like a psychic medium) through a person, someone who might be able to communicate with whatever is out there and be able to relay its/their esoteric knowledge to help further the Institute’s goals of “Universal Transmutation.” We know already that the Institute was interested in doppelgangers and perhaps alternate universes and that they had a lot of irons in the fire (the Millenium Dome, the gifted child programme, Welling’s Mutare Materia research program, the various outreach centres), so it would hardly be surprising if they were also experimenting in communicating with “the beyond” to try and gain more knowledge.

And maybe it worked. Maybe they were able to create or transmute someone into an antenna, capable of receiving these strange signals, except these mixed signals were too powerful and ultimately took over. Perhaps [Error] is the natural consequence of who or whatever was speaking to Berger finally getting “OUT.” And if who or whatever was speaking to Berger happened to include the fractured consciousness of a hungry Archivist, well then, we have an interesting case for [Error]. [Error], whether or not they were an/The Archivist in this universe, could now be directed by the desires of The Archivist, channeling The Archivist’s thoughts and abilities but with a power greater than that we ever saw in John (or, perhaps, the same power but completely unrestrained by his remaining humanity). Or [Error] could be channeling The Fears themselves, bringing parts of them through not unlike they were brought through in The Magnus Archives.

Either way, I doubt that creating a connection between whatever was out there and the physical world led to the results the Institute was hoping for.

[Error] is receiving the signal to feed, but the signal coming through is so loud and so powerful that instead of politely asking to snack on some horror stories, coming into contact with them instead allows them to pick up on a person’s horrible experience and forces them to broadcast it to the world. It’s possible that, upon creating [Error] or losing control of [Error], those at The Magnus Institute locked them up and cut them off from the dangerous signal they were receiving… Sam accidentally poking a big hole in the floor (and the alchemical signals inscribed in it) could have reestablished the connection between [Error] and the force guiding them.

Now let’s talk about FR3-D1. We know that FR3-D1so far is that it

Is a “bespoke” internet software developed sometime in the mid-90s, apparently designed to search the internet for spooky stuff

Has German source code

Crashes, constantly, much to Colin’s dismay (? Or maybe he’s helping those crashes along to stop it from listening in… but that’s a theory for another time)

Has, within the last year or so of Sam joining the O.I.A.R., started running a text-to-speech program that reads certain cases out in one of three voices, two of which are familiar to anyone who has listened to The Magnus Archives

Occasionally has some unusual .JMJ errors

Seems to be “targeting” Sam with specific cases related to The Magnus Institute

Is believed to be “listening in” by Colin, Alice, and Sam (which is supported by what we know as the audience)

Has been working “better” since Colin has been on mandatory mental health leave

May have some connection to the Stasi, the secret police force of Communist East Germany before the fall of the USSR

Is assumed (by us as the audience) to have some kind of sentience

There are some other items (notably the spreadsheets found in the ARG that appear to be from or connected to FR3-D1and the emails Sam and Gwen have received) that could be connected to FR3-D1 but have not yet been confirmed. Yet aspects of FR3-D1 do seem to share some commonality with [Error], namely a level of sentience and the ability to locate the stories of people who have had horrifying supernatural encounters.

My speculation here is that FR3-D1 and [Error] were both constructed using the same premise or with the same goal in mind: to receive and channel the signals of entities or consciousnesses existing in or coming from “Somewhere Else”: FR3-D1 through a supernaturally or alchemically conceived software program, and [Error] through a supernaturally or alchemically conceived transmutation on a living human.

If this proves to be the case, then the results seem… distinct, albeit with the potential to be equally dangerous. FR3-D1 is more “controllable” and could potentially be better able to separate out the signals being received, manifesting as “Augustus,” “Chester,” and “Norris.” Now these “three” could still be part of homunculus-esque JohnMartinJonah consciousness, but perhaps the computer program is a little more stable and delineated than the fleshy wet mess of the human brain, and therefore what remains of each individual consciousness is able to act more distinctly and independently. In contrast, [Error] (and their fleshy wet mess of human brain) is receiving the signals all mixed and jumbled together, with no failsafes to keep them from “overloading” or being entirely taken over by The Horrors or JMJ or The JMJ Horrors. Given their spectral descriptions, it’s possible that fleshy human brain and body couldn’t take it anymore and, pun intended, gave up the ghost.  

[Error] could be, in some ways, a bodiless, mindless soul acting on a confused mess of instinct and hunger; FR3-D1 is then, perhaps, the elevated mind, in (more) control but disconnected from a body and perhaps from a soul. Given the heavy influence of alchemy in The Magnus Protocol and the importance in alchemy of the number three, the Tria Prima, and the balance of mind, body, and soul, there may be a third entity we have yet to meet who, like FR3-D1 and [Error], are tuned into these signals from beyond and is eager to reunite with the rest… or perhaps FR3-D1 and [Error] are looking for a body of their own to inhabit and find balance (Sam, anyone?).

I feel like I myself am beginning to mix the signals I started with, but before I attempt to wrap this up, I do briefly want to throw one more piece of spaghetti on the wall, because I think it’ll wind up being something: the mention, specifically, of the silver wire the Berger used in his experiment.

It was Dr. Caton who recommended that Berger use the silver wire, as silver is known for being an effective conductor of electricity. Silver also holds importance as one of the seven metals of alchemy and as a possible base metal in the creation of a Philosopher’s Stone. Perhaps equally important here is that the Diana’s Tree, also known as the Arbor Philosophorum, is created using a solution including silver (or more accurately, silver nitrate) and mercury (one of the elements in the Tria Prima)… yep, the (sort of) same spooky tree created by Newton in TMAGP 19, where Newton gave his dog an existential crisis and Robert Hooke was like “burn it all down.” The conclusion we could draw here is that silver is used in both TMAGP 19 and TMAGP 22 to connect organic life to the unseeable Knowledge of some other plane… with potentially disastrous effects.

Whether it ends up being the case that FR3-D1 and [Error] are big antennas wirelessly receiving The Horrors or I’m totally off base, it seems pretty clear that Hans Berger “tuned in” to an unusual—and dangerous—signal, and what’s more, enabled that signal to connect with the Protocol world in a way that likely never should have happened.

[helpimstuckposting]

TMAGP 30 Speculation

Now that it’s season finale time, I’ve got a LOT to say and a lot of ideas so I will ramble them here and either I’m horribly wrong or horribly right but unfortunately we have to wait to find that out

First, I can’t believe Alice had two mysterious talks with her friends saying they have something super important to say with a horrified quiver to their voices and she didn’t have time to listen to EITHER of them. Teddy and Colin are high high high on the list for ‘died off mic and we only find out next season’

Since Gwen was promoted (idiot) and Sam is… mmm… missing, it looks like the OIAR will need to fill at least one position, and I think it would be fun if Teddy came back to take his place as a main character. It’s possible that what he had to say was “This new job… it’s not exactly [working out]” and he was simply looking for a new one, and it’s no more ominous than that. If that’s the case, I can absolutely see him taking his position back next season. Colin’s probably dead, though, I’ll be shocked if he’s not tbh

Speaking of Colin, he called the system Freddy while talking to Alice. You know, the same guy that said “Don’t give it a personality. We shouldn’t even be calling it Freddy.” So the change up here is really blatant to me.

I’m still really attached to the idea that Jon and Martin (and Jonah’s) voices were stolen and they’re not actually trapped in the computers. However, I *do* think the voices are sentient, I just don’t think we’re right about who’s behind them. I think Freddy, the program itself, may be using the voices to push its own agenda and manipulate the decisions each OIAR employee is making. Alice gets a lot of JMJ errors, and is specifically the only person on staff who actively tunes the cases out and does not read into them.

OR, if it does turn out to be our guys, then I think it’s possible they’re working counter productively to Freddy, and the JMJ errors are a result of that — like they’re actively trying to work against Freddy. This could also be why Colin said he messed up, like maybe his attempts to deal with the JMJ errors made Freddy more powerful.

Either way, it seems the OIAR is in a huge bind going into season two. Colin probably did something buck wild and pissed the computer off, he’s probably dead, Sam is missing and they’ll need a new hire, Lena is gone (the only person who presumably knew anything that was going on) and Gwen just got promoted to boss despite having 1) absolutely no idea what’s going on with anything at all, 2) an inability to handle the externals and several panic attacks, and 3) no clue what Lena’s job even was, with no direction from the man who promoted her. It seems like even the PM has no real clue what the OIAR does, how it functions, or who it employs (“I’m sorry, do you hire a lot of murderers for contract and consultancy work?” - the answer is Yes, actually, several!)

Picturing the team next season as Alice, Teddy, Celia, and their boss Gwen is… a comedy of errors (or comedy of [ERROR]s? … Sorry) like that absolutely cannot go well. Although, we are pretty used to people being hired as a boss while they have no qualifications of the sort (also did not go well)

As for Sam, the Archivist, and Hilltop Road, I have a few questions about what could possibly happen. First, if the crack in reality was specifically calling for and tugging Celia toward it, we can probably assume that it’s the TMA universe on the other side, right? Which means Sam and the Archivist are now in our original beloved universe. I’m curious to see if Sam is just going to be MIA for the entirety of season two, or if we’ll get tape recordings of him at the same time as our TMagP friends, and we’ll have updates between both universes. I could see that being very interesting if some voice actors appear as two different people in the same episode (their TMA part, and their TMagP counterpart) but that would probably be really complicated to pull off in an audio format.

Also, we know the TMA fears cannot be separated, and that they’re possibly just one entity and have been one entity the whole time. That’s why they couldn’t start the apocalypse without all of them participating, and that’s why when Annabelle opened the crack in reality they all left the TMA universe. “Any attempt to separate the fears is doomed,” is what she said. She also said, “I would either travel with them, or I would die. I do not know which... Most would simply lose whatever power they have been gifted.”

So, if an archivist travels back through the crack in reality, what would happen to them? They’d be cut off from the entity that gave them power, right? So either the archivist will die, or maybe we’ll find out who Beth Eyre (the voice of [ERROR])’s character really is? Who they were before they became an archivist?

I don’t think they’d introduce [ERROR] and then just get rid of them without any resolution, which leads me to believe we will eventually find out what happened to Sam. I don’t think Sam’s just going to be dead or missing and never come back, I don’t see how there’d be any point to that. He is still the only person we know of who’s survived telling their whole statement, and even though he had a headache I feel like that must be significant. The janitor turned into a rock, I really don’t think a normal person would just walk away with a headache. Like, for all intents and purposes, Sam probably should have had his skin ripped off if we’re following the pattern of [ERROR] related deaths.

I hope next season focuses on Hilltop Road, because the lore in this episode was amazing. First of all, it was hard not to notice how each shop had a different danger. The custodian mentioned the drunk man walking into the newsagent and then he “ignored the smell of burnt hair and charred meat”. Then there was the shop that turned a woman into a mannequin, and Sam and Celia walked past the appliance shop where doors kept opening and closing, and the dentist that wanted peoples teeth. There was also the antique shop from episode 7 that almost buried the manager alive, plus the institute also used one of the units. I could be reading too much into it, but it feels like each fear from TMA has uhhhh… set up shop?

It’s also interesting to me that Annabelle said every owner on Hilltop Road in TMA was marked by the Spider, and died a grizzly death.

“So many schemers and spiders and full-throated monsters. Twisting manipulators and furtive liars. Each meeting a violent, grotesque end.” (TMA 196)

And the owner of Hilltop Center was no different.

“I found the owner dead in his office, with every blood vessel stripped from his body and strung around the room in a grim cat’s cradle.”

Not only did he die a violent and mysterious death, but his blood vessels were strung up ‘in a cats cradle’, which is pretty web-like if you ask me.

Anyway, I’m really really hoping to learn more about Hilltop Center next season, that’s the ONE thing I’m super latched on to post-finale

[hinaypod]

So here's the thing about #BIPOCtober... I don't know if we can name ALL the BIPOC characters in Hi Nay because there's TOO MANY

but we can try

(also I'm joking, there's never too many, learn that now)

Mari Datuin - protagonist, 5 foot tall pansexual Filipina immigrant with babaylan heritage and inexplicably powerful magic that may be a problem down the line. She's the only one who seems capable of facing down the magic of the Elders - rich immortal occultists from the 1920s - and their Foci - cursed objects that cause supernatural death.

Detective [redacted] Donner - deuteragonist, a grim-faced, sharp-eyed, Jamaican-Canadian Detective with a horrific supernatural experience in childhood that put him on the path to investigating supernatural deaths with his partner,

Detective Richard "Rick" Murphy - a charming, handsome, hyper-competent, smart aleck of a detective who has Donner's back, and has an unfortunate bit of baggage we learn about later. He's gay, and of mixed Chinese heritage, and seems suspiciously unbothered by all the horrors, known to crack jokes in tense situations. Early in season 1, he forms a romantic relationship with

Ashvin Beeharee - a bisexual conman fake guru of Indian descent, from the island of Mauritius. He uses his fake guru persona to scam people and sell products, and is eventually horrified to learn he has real magic power??? And wants to help people??? And ends up joining the "Scooby Gang" after a horrific run-in with a vengeful ghost of an Elder.

Evelyn Wai - a conscientious young Chinese-Canadian University of Toronto student who's very good at research, and would make a great archivist. She encounters some supernatural threats early in the season and helps out where she can, becoming an honorary member of the group that the others feel the need to protect.

DJ In the Dark - a nonbinary DJ of Filipino heritage, DJ in the Dark runs an in-universe podcast show where they talk about or air stories from listeners. They're at first a "skeptic believer" of the supernatural, until they're targeted by a certain Elder after learning too much about the very real supernatural occurrences taking place in Toronto.

Mary-Anne Weekes - the only Black member of the Elders in the 1920s, and one of the few who apparently formed a conscience when they began siphoning power off of the random, violent deaths of innocent people. She was the daughter of a hotel tycoon, and a genius who created many spells, nearly peerless if not for the show's main villain - the mysterious Benefactor, who matched her spell for spell. Her romantic partner was a fellow Elder named Claudette-Jean, or CJ, who survives her into modern day.

"J", The Journalist - Bearing the pen name "James Callahan" and hiding his real name, J was a pansexual, Black Canadian journalist who dealt with the supernatural and was active from the 1960s to the late 1980s, before his sudden disappearance. He was clever, charming, and had a strong sense of justice, and had run-ins with the immortal Elders, where he was able to triumph due to quick thinking and access to his own magical item - a mysteriously powerful pocketwatch. With his knowledge of the Elders, he was able to write a "Book of Elders" which gives the main cast an edge against their enemies. He was unable to form a relationship with his partner, Detective Dooley, before his disappearance - though he sorely wanted to.

Jack Robin, or John Isaac Weekes - Mary-Anne's brother, who "died too young", not much is known about Jack Robin apart from his connection to J's strange magical pocketwatch (and accompanying magical black cat). He was effervescent, friendly, and his death affected Mary-Anne deeply. More is to be learned about his connection not only to his sister, or the strange pocketwatch, but to the son of the Elders' original leader, Sauvard, and the Benefactor himself. He did, after all, give him the name "Benefactor".

NOT PICTURED ABOVE:

Abe - An urbex ghost hunter who investigates the supernatural in Toronto, Abe has a few run-ins with the protagonists during his investigations after Mari rescues him from a hellmouth that almost kills him. Of Filipino descent, Abe's a bit of an eager beaver, and that gets him into one too many situations, but he means well, and shows his strength at the most surprising of times.

[checkadii]

dude. dude hear me out

archivist!gordon

IM SOO HEARING YOU OUT + im also assuming you mean hlvrai gordon and not. og gordon. im having so much thoughts regardless

okay Not a game au. it would be so fuckig funny if eye tendencies got stronger after rescas. he just starts knowing shit, starts actively seeking out more information, the science team is making more detour than usual because he just keeps staring off into space at random spots (hes knowing and or analyzing sctuff around him). everything about the xen invasion and rescas falls into place for him so fast

the science team feel more watched and its both alarming and comforting (uncomfortable when trying to sleep). everytime he asks a question and someone answers him without their usual bullshit there is a lengthy pause. it gets a bit annoying at points once gordon figures out he can Ask because he makes use of the archivist power to get straight answers more nd more and its ticking off some of them. maybe. maybe idk?? he asks scientists they pass for their stories, every time they go for a few hours without a statement he becomes noticeably more agitated

do you think he would . avoid getting his arm cut off. would the eye help him with that. would it not. just to push him further away from sanity and himself

ourghrgh ... he Becomes in xen.... make him the final boss /j

AND GAME AU!

OKAY SO LIKE>.? god Archivist slash Archive makes so much sense here actually

the AI Gordon Freeman has been trapped in this constant state of, well, archiving gameplays and save files, all iterations and updates and mods and tweaks done to the game, unable to break out of the loop Jon Sims Nightmare style. the only time he could do anything of his own will is just . a handful of moments during credits . then its back to archiving, sorting out game files and assets and maintaining his archive like a good archivist. the science team are forced to relive the game over and over. this works w og gordon too tbh

okay i have an essay to cram bye

[themuppetarchives]

Hello.

You may call me The Archivist.

Recently, I found myself being called to the muppetverse, specifically the online and offline spaces occupied by The Muppet Joker, also known as The Croaker, and his proclaimed brotherhood.

I have made this blog to document and investigate this...occurrence. This phenomenon seems to be linked with greater occult forces, and it is my charge as the Archivist to record, preserve, and organize the legacy of these dread powers.

I am not, nor do I intend to become, and active player in this drama. I am merely a humble observer. A historian. A researcher. A ceaseless watcher of the Fear in the Felt.

Welcome to the Muppet Archives.

INDEX:CID | INDEX:ENTITIES | INDEX:BROTHERHOOD & FANBLOGS

I intend to organize and archive the current information, but this is...an ongoing situation and therefore requires constant surveillance. As such, I hope that those of you who are also watching, or better yet are active participants of the Brotherhood or its rivals, submit your statements about what you have observed, heard, or otherwise bore witness to.

Please be sure to somehow indicate your identity in a way unique to you (be it name, an emoji sign off, etc) so that your statement may be properly catalogued.

[STATEMENT ENDS.]

[jbird-the-manwich]

I keep running into a sentiment along the lines of “If you’re a witch you shouldn’t need to study” and A) I feel like it has to come from tiktok (or that one scene in GoT and they wanna cosplay circe for a minute) and B) there’s almost always an insinuation that any who do study are looking to correct a lack of ability.  I think we should actively dismantle the notion that studying witchcraft or magic and performing the labor of information hunting and verification is always a power grab or a pursuit of results actually. 

You can get fine results without tomes of historical spells. but studying is fun. Especially when in the course of that study you often find threads of theory or practice that despite vast gaps of distance or time have nevertheless appeared to have evolved very similarly. 

You don’t need to know things I suppose. But you also don’t need a wall of funko pops or plants or paintings. There is enrichment in the act of collecting, curating and preserving. Decorating your mind and your books and your drives with little scraps of treasured, hard won data. Particularly when what you collect is obscure historical parallels or precedent for things you yourself experience. Seeing how other people have wielded and directed and policed power throughout time can be and often is less driven by a thirst for power itself and more a thirst for knowledge, trivial and not.

 Most of us already know how to wield our own power. That’s not what we're looking for. We’re looking for inspiration, information, a thread we can pull chronologically from one age back to another to find that it’s some semblance of ourselves holding the other end. To see the creativity and logic of our ancestors. To learn the ways in which magical practice has been rationalized. Some of us simply have an archivists bent and find joy in the work of learning itself. It’s not about the power. It’s about the high. The Interest. The Intrigue. Some of us just plain adore a spreadsheet. Some of us are witches and nerds. Sometimes studying is a hobby. Some of us like to pick up a book and come away with an answer to why the fuck we found a shoe in the wall that one time. Some of us want to leave behind for our progeny a grimoire or seven that slaps. Some of us are alchemists and artificers and smiths and enchanters in the genuine physical sense and require data to generate an object we’ve been tasked to create. Some of us are comforted by the knowledge that we’re merely doing a dance that has been done before. Some of us want the future generations of our bloodlines to know exactly where to look if they’ve been cursed. Some of us are just procrastinating. But I would bet that most if not all of us are studying within a context that invalidates the sentiment that we’re bothering to learn at all because we’re not “powerful enough” otherwise. Some of us just want to see what other people did with the same power in a different context. Some of us are hereditary and long-matured in our ways and have massive beautiful veiny dicks you will never get to see with that attitude. 

[artificial-absinthe]

I finished the first season of Arcane. It's impressive, so artistic and strong in narrative telling. Every character has a marked personality conveyed through their every feature including their looks and body language. Highest pinnacle aesthetics, the scenery is captivating.

That being said, every transformers fan that watches it, perhaps, can't but notice the striking parallels with the Aligned and Idw1 lore. Actually... the background plot is quite the same.

The major problematic arises because there's a dramatic split of social hierarchy.

In Transformers, it exists the caste system and functionism. In Arcane, society is divided in high and low classes as well. Low castes are heavy work labourers, such as miners, gladiators, etc. They are rude, often violent, and outcasts. They suffer scarcities and unjustice from a government who despises them or is oblivious to their strife. The same for low classes in Arcane. (Save for existing gladiators)

High and mid castes are government, scientists, military, artists, not brute workers such as archivists. The same for Arcane.(save for archivists)

The different castes/classes are split in separate places. Low castes/classes are not allowed into the wealthy cities.

The low castes in Transformers and low classes in Arcane live in cities polluted by the vapors of factories and such, or that seem darkened somehow. The sick, the addicted and the mentally ill are common. Crime is not in short supply. Criminals are exiled or seek shelter there because there their activities are unnoticed.

Kaon (Transformers)

Zaun (Arcane)

Iacon (Transformers)

Piltover (Arcane)

The ruling entity is conformed by an association of a number of characters called the Council in both cases. (In Transformers there's also a Prime, which has no analog in Arcane)

The High Council and the Hall of justice. (Transformers)

The Council and their Tower. (Arcane)

There are also enforcers.

The antagonist is a menacing character, witty, terrifying and sexy arrogant as hell who has no qualms on use whatever means to get his way. They come from mines, they want freedom and autonomy to their kind but also crave power and know no boundaries. They value loyalty in a high degree and demand it, –the consequences of betrayal are dire. They endorse violence as way of change and are cruel and remorseless. They both have deep streaks of scars on their faces creasing their lips and share a liking for purple, dubious substances.

Megatron and Dark energon

Silco and the shimmer.

Also, they used to have an ally whom they referred to as brother, but who parted ways with them because of the virulent and dangerous, radical tendencies of the turned antagonist. These ally is/was noble, strong but kind and knows/learned that violence should be the last resort.

They both have as well subordinates that would follow them through hell because they, among other reasons, see in them that which any other. And these subordinates are feared and their own way of creepy.

Frag, it's Soundwave!

Oh, no, it's Jinx...!

And Sevika

Overal, the running story and focus is obviously very different, with various elements of their own, but honestly, the background plot and various parallels sometimes caused the fleeting feeling that I was watching a prewar tfp human steampunk version. Don't take me wrong, I loved Arcane and am very interested in the next season.

[karuvapatta]

A ficlet featuring Elias and time travel shenanigans. Enjoy!

***

True to form, the Crawling Rot crept across the Archives slowly, insidiously. By the time it made its presence known it was already deep inside the walls, burrowing its way into brick and mortar and stone, carving a home for itself, consuming and inevitable. It couldn’t be stopped, it couldn’t be fought, spreading and multiplying, a dozen new manifestations even as one was slain…

Elias felt the constant itch beneath his skin. It took considerable willpower to ignore, in fact. Normally he thrived on passivity and inaction, but now it became a delicate balancing act, between letting it run wild and trying to contain that which could not be contained…

But there was something new. A low buzz in the fabric of his Archives. He borrowed the eyes of one of the Assistants, but could not make sense of what he saw in this manner. Something - someone - was actively obscuring his vision. The Distortion? It seemed like a game it might like to play. Better make sure. Better safe than sorry.

He went down into the Archives and knocked on the door. Sasha and Tim were huddled on the other side, caught in frantic whispers, their bewilderment fresh and obvious in the air. Has Prentiss struck early? No, he was quite certain he would have felt it.

“Is everything all right?” He asked.

“Oh—Elias? Is that you?” Sasha replied.

“I believe so,” Elias said drily, and pushed the door open.

They weren’t injured in any obvious way. Elias scanned them thoroughly just in case, trying to determine the cause of this commotion.

“Is Jon around?” he asked, unnecessarily; he would have known if his Archivist had left his domain.

“Yeah, he’s taking a statement,” Tim said.

“Live statement?” Elias said.

That—no, that didn’t sound right. He hadn’t—he kept careful tabs on those touched by the Powers who might find their way here, and he hadn’t expected any one of them to show up today. And even if he should have missed it, Rosie would let him know. She had never failed him yet.

There was a familiar prickling sensation at the back of his neck; the crushing weight of his Patron’s gaze, as familiar as it was terrifying. Something went wrong, Elias knew with sudden clarity; something was terribly, horribly wrong—

“Excuse me,” he said, pushing past the Assistants, heading straight for the Head Archivist’s office. He hadn’t—he hadn’t quite meant to move, but still his legs carried him onwards, as if following a path laid out in front of them, a few short steps before the edge of a cliff, and a drop into the endless oblivion.

Jon was at his desk, alive; he didn’t look up at Elias, he didn’t move, unable to tear his gaze away from the man in front of him. Fear paralyzed him, froze the blood in his veins and took the air from his lungs; it was too much, too soon, his fragile heart couldn’t cope with it yet, but his eyes were open, wide open, swallowed by the pupils. And—

“Who are you?” Elias asked, momentarily blinded by fury.

The statement-giver was sitting down with his back to the door; Elias could see greying hair pulled into a messy bun, and a hand on the desk, balling into a fist, brown skin dotted with scars.

“We aren’t done,” said the stranger, strange harmonics overlapping the familiar voice. “Continue.”

Jon trembled in his seat; his heart was beating dangerously fast, its rhythm growing erratic, its vessels incapable of feeding it for much longer. He could feel the web of them growing strained, threatening to break at any moment—

“I don’t—I don’t remember—“ Jon stammered. “I don’t remember his name. I don’t—“

The stranger sighed.

“No, I suppose you wouldn’t,” he said. “Statement ends.”

Jon collapsed, heaving for breath and clutching at his chest; it felt like a heart attack but it wasn’t one, not truly. He would recover shortly, even if he didn’t believe it right now. The man was always so dramatic.

“What have you done to my Archivist?” Elias demanded.

The stranger laughed - a short, dry laugh, with very little humor to it. And that, too, was uncannily familiar. Some aspect of the Stranger, then? It would explain why Elias’ vision remained clouded.

“You know,” he began, then paused; everywhere around them, there was a buzz of static, tape recorders listening in with ravenous hunger. Elias felt a similar pull, gnawing at his own mind, begging to be filled.

But the man shook his head, then, and said, “No. I have nothing to say to you.”

“What—who are you?” Jon cut in, sharp and abrasive as ever.

Instead of answering, the stranger rose to his feet, and turned around.

The eyes looking back at him were unblinking, open wide, swallowed by the hungry maw of pupils; and Elias had felt the Beholding’s presence in the past, had trembled under the weight of Its attention, but never before had he experienced the sensation of standing face to face with It. He never considered himself a religious man but it did feel like seeing his God made flesh—all-seeing, all-knowing, power and terror and—

No. It couldn’t be. He’d know if the Ritual succeeded. The man in front of him couldn’t be what he seemed; there had to be another explanation. And now that he got over the initial shock, Elias noticed other features - this stranger and Jon looked remarkably alike…

And then the man punched him in the face.

Elias staggered backwards, reflexively raising his hand to the sharp pain in his cheek.

“Jesus Christ, what—“ Jon said, while the stranger aimed another blow.

Elias was ready this time. He moved at the last moment; his assailant hit the door instead and toppled forward, spitting foul curses in Jon’s voice.

“Come back here,” he snarled.

His knuckles were bloodied, possibly broken. Still he came back up, throwing himself at Elias; his movements were reckless, fueled by pure rage and all-consuming hatred. Elias managed to block him, grab one of the arms; he tried looking, pulling anything useful out of the eyes in front of him, flood the mind with terror and pain, but there was nothing to latch onto—or, rather, there was too much of it all at once, like trying to catch a single raindrop in a torrential downpour.

He landed heavily on the Archivist’s desk, all air knocked out of his lungs. A glint of metal in the corner of his eyes; he panicked, throwing his arms up, anything. Sharp pain laced up his arm, where the blade must have pierced skin. But he managed to grab a hold on the other man’s wrists, hold, hold on while the tip of the knife inched closer and closer to his face, hairbreadth above his right eye—

The knife disappeared, as did the weight on his chest. His assailant had been wrenched backwards, probably by one of the archival assistants. Elias breathed out, holding back an undignified whimper, and covered his face with his hands. His eye. His eyes. No, they were still where they should be, it was all right. They were all right. They hadn’t been injured.

“Are you hurt?” Jon asked from somewhere above him. Elias flinched, but it was his Jon speaking. There was no reason to fear him.

“No,” he said coolly.

“A little help here?” Tim shouted.

The commotion was still going on. Tim and Martin were wrestling with the stranger, trying to get him to drop the knife. But clearly whatever madness had been driving the man up until now had ran its course. He seemed to shrink in on himself, backing away from the two of them with wide, terrified eyes, the knife clutched protectively to his chest.

“Drop the knife, mate,” Tim said. He and Martin towered over the—over Jon. The man was Jon, or a being made to look like him. Older by about a decade, face weathered, hair almost entirely grey; dressed with none of Jon’s usual desperate insecurity, in loose jeans and a sweater several sizes too large on him. But the resemblance was unmistakable.

“No,” Not-Jon said; his grip on the knife turned white. “But it’s all right. I’m—I’m putting it away now.”

He sheathed the blade under their apprehensive gaze, hiding it beneath the large sweater. Then he raised his empty, horribly scarred hands. “There. See?”

“I’m calling the police,” Sasha said flatly, the phone already pressed to her ear.

Not-Jon’s lips twisted into a humorless smile. “No, you are not.”

“Why not?”

“Because you want to question me yourself,” not!Jon said. “And I think—I think everyone will be better off if I just leave.” He huffed a short, bitter laugh; his shoulders trembled, and he backed away another step, to lean against the wall and bury his face in his hands. “I shouldn’t have come here,” he mumbled, voice muffled and strained with—pain? Guilt? “I really am very sorry about that…”

“You can’t just leave,” Jon said sharply. “You tried to kill Elias, we won’t just let you go—“

“I think it’s a very good reason to let me go, actually” not!Jon said. “I’m still armed, after all.”

“Who, um—who are you?” Martin asked timidly.

Not!Jon froze. He kept his face covered still, maybe in a futile attempt to hide his identity.

“You look—you look just like Jon.”

“No, he does not,” Jon said in his snottiest, most abrasive tone of voice. “What on earth are you talking about, Martin?”

Martin deflated. Not!Jon lowered his hands and stared at his other self.

“Good lord, you are such a prick,” he said slowly. “I never realized…”

“Oh, so you’ve met before?” Tim asked, smirking.

Elias finally got his breathing under control and managed to get back on his feet. There was a shallow cut on his forearm, a smear of blood on his shirt; no doubt his hair looked a horrible mess. He righted the tie, his vest and shirt, smoothing down any creases, and then calmly wiped off the blood with a handkerchief.

Not!Jon was glaring at him, with a very Jon-like expression. Their eyes met; Elias caught flashes of the man’s hostility, vague impressions and images —Gertrude’s bullet-ridden corpse, the tunnels—

“I think I should leave now,” not!Jon said. “Wouldn’t you agree? Elias?”

Terror crept down Elias’ spine. Not!Jon knew him; knew him in a deep, visceral way, all his secrets, lies, weaknesses… all his fears…

“Yes,” he said. “I think that would be for the best.”

[waywardsunlight]

Most powerful owl house characters (raw physical/magical power)

1) The Titans (ft Luz and Belos Titan magic variants), includes King when he’s grown up

2) The Archivists (Second because they had to use deception to kill the Titans, I imagine they aren’t more powerful than the Titans directly or almost matched in power)

3) The Collector (Defeated by Papa Titan and Belos using Titan magic, hasn’t reached their full potential yet)

4) Darius Deamonne (Darius can beat Raine in a genuine fight and is only defeated by Eberwolf’s life being threatened/Eda’s magic decay so generally. He can easily defeat other coven heads and has the ability to just disintegrate metal??)

5) Raine Whispers (Raine can defeat Eda and almost defeats Belos when they’re exhausted, Raine is a prodigy who’s known for being powerful and could change the chemical composition of your blood if they wanted to. Fun fact.)

6) Eda and Lilith Clawthorne (their harpy forms are pretty powerful, as well as their magic decay abilities. Eda can defeat Lilith but after Lilith steps into her own and begins defining herself the comparison kinda fades and I think they just share a place on the list.

7) Gus Porter (Gus is the most powerful of the Owl House kids in raw magic which also comes with major drawbacks. However, Gus is able to defeat a coven head on his own and cast massive and powerful illusions)

8) Terra Snapdragon ft the Coven Heads (they’re staggered but I don’t want to sort them all tbh) (I don’t need to explain her 👍) /j, also tied with Alador Blight (Alador primarily uses technology that makes him more powerful but he is significantly powerful and could probably hold his own against a coven head)

9) Belos (he’s further down because he tends to win based on political power and other characters like Hunter and the Scouts backing him up, or using Hunter as a shield. He’s still powerful though, but he’s very much making up for lack of power by using other people. He would be dead so many times over if he wasn’t liquid 👎

Bonus: Warden Wrath (Sometimes). Willow Park is also up here as well as Amity Blight but they’re still growing into their magic and I was thinking 1v1 power and not teamwork bc together they can kick some ass!! I think Gus, Raine, Darius, Eber etc hold back most of the time or are choosing not to use their full power actively. Luz can beat Belos in gaslight gatekeep girlboss arguments but sadly that didn’t count. Her glyphs are based tho. Luz beats Hunter and he’s very cranky about it /silly.

[dualumina]

A Quick Full Guide for getting Gold in

Lowland Shore: Harvest Shore Salmon Run!

~~~

Update! So it's been brought to our attention that the race event, has a significantly longer timer to achieve gold than the adventure does, assuming you show up right before the race starts.

It's possible this is a bug, so it might be patched out in the coming future. It's also possible that Anet will change the gold requirements to be less strict (we've never heard of this happening before, but who knows.)

Either way, at the time of editing this (September 7th 2024) the below guide still applies for the adventure!

Further update: The latest GW2 update actually added extra time to qualify for Gold, so you may not need all the expensive gear to achieve it. If you're still struggling, pre-booning will still offer a decent headstart, even if some class traits might not work in fish form.

Best of luck out there, fellow salmon! 🐟

Before even starting the race, you'll need the right stuff to have a chance of succeeding.

Equipment:

Get at least 1 or 2 of Bowl of Orrian Truffle and Meat Stew

Equip 6 Superior Runes of Speed

Equip a Relic of Speed

Build:

There are several things you'll want on your build to make your life as painless as possible.

Adrenaline Regeneration

Vigor Source

Movement Speed Increase

Pre-Race Boons

The main boons you want to give yourself are Swiftness, Vigor, Quickness/Alacrity, and Superspeed. Other boons may or may not be necessary depending on your class.

As you may have noticed, this is all stuff available on an Engineer (Mechanist with Tools and Alchemy trait lines). Because that's the class we decided to first try this race on.

Thankfully we're feeling generous, so here are the best builds for all other 8 classes. Usually there's only a few critical things you need in each case, so if something isn't specified, just pick whatever.

Mesmer:

Dueling > Mental Gymnastics Chronomancer > Time Marches On Signet of Inspiration, Well of Action, Time Warp Focus (Temporal Curtain)

Elementalist:

Water > Soothing Disruption Air > Zephyr's Speed > One With Air Weaver > Woven Stride Ether Renewal, Unravel (Water), Cleansing Fire, Signet of Air Staff (Air > Windborne Speed)

Necromancer:

Blood Magic > Banshee's Wail Soul Reaping > Speed of Shadows > Eternal Life Harbinger > Twisted Medicine > Deathly Haste Spectral Recall, Signet of the Locust, Elixir of Anguish Warhorn (Locust Swarm)

Revenant:

Retribution > Enduring Recovery > Unwavering Avoidance Invocation > Rapid Flow Herald > Core Value > Draconic Echo Legendary Dragon Stance (activate and consume all skills, starting with Facet of Chaos)

Guardian:

Honor > Vigorous Precision > Purity of Body Virtues > Absolute Resolve > Power of the Virtuous Firebrand > Archivist of Whispers > Swift Scholar > Stalwart Speed > Loremaster Mantra of Potence, Advance!, Signet of Mercy, Feel My Wrath! Tome of Resolve (Chapter 3)

Warrior:

Defence > Last Stand Discipline > Warrior's Sprint > Doubled Standards Bladesworn > Swift As the Wind Combat Stimulant, Signet of Stamina, Banner of Tactics, Frenzy, Signet of Rage Warhorn

Ranger:

Wilderness Survival > Natural Vigor Skirmishing > Tail Wind > Primal Reflexes Soulbeast > Live Fast > Essence of Speed > Leader of the Pack Water Spirit, Signet of the Hunt, Quickening Zephyr, Griffon Stance, Strength of the Pact! Warhorn (Call of the Wild)

Thief:

Acrobatics > Expeditious Dodger > Feline Grace Daredevil > Physical Supremacy > Unhindered Combatant Haste, Signet of Shadows

(Thief is weirdly low on options it seems)

Okay and of course Engineer was already covered earlier

Race:

So you've got your gear, your build, and now onto the race itself. First off, here's what you need to know about your skills that aren't obvious at a glance.

Dash!

This skill works noticeably differently depending on where you're located. When you're in deep water, the skill works just fine. On land, it's similar enough to not worth mentioning. But if you're on the water's surface, to the point that your skills aren't listed, for the love of every god don't use the dash! You will get no benefit except wasting your stamina.

If you don't see your skills just don't press 'em!

Flop!

Flop is the most versatile skill at your disposal, and has drastically different effects for different situations. If you're in deep water, then using flop will yeet you to the water's surface. This can be handy for needing to get up to checkpoints in shallower water quickly. If you're already at the water's surface, then you'll go straight up... usually. This race is a bit finicky at times. If you're on flat land, you'll also go straight up. Thankfully it's pretty consistent. However if you're on an upwards slope, or close enough to one, then you will go up it at record speed.

A prime flop location

Glub

Glub :3

Now go out there and get glubbin'!