#but it is interesting so I'll keep reading

[mumblingsage]

#🤔 i remember reading about trauma being a psychic wound#from witnessing or experiencing an event where someone's physical integrity was threatened#i know you can't start talking about ptsd until 6 months after the event if you're still seeing effects from it#i'm not so sure about the formal definition of traumatized#bc most people heal after even really bad trauma. ptsd is what you get around 1/3 times when your psyche like. doesn't#so i think traumatized might be for shorter term effect? but still like a specific term for you know like an actual medical condition#and indeed i'm no health professional or expert but i'm p fucking sure that can't happen from stuff happening to fictional people#and much less from reading words on a page#anyway thank you for this post op

I also find these distinctions and definitions super interesting! (I'd say "fun" but it's just not a fun topic.)

-My understanding is that you're right, post-traumatic stress syndrome can't be diagnosed until 6 months after the event. If you're having stress symptoms in the immediate aftermath - and this is quite common, much more common than longer-term PTSD - it's called acute stress disorder (there's also 'adjustment disorder' which might overlap?). And people actually going through the fight-flight-or-freeze survival response to trauma may not be aware of themselves as particularly upset or realize they're having symptoms; those often emerge after the immediate threat is past. I cannot stress enough that people with PTSD are not weak and have not failed; to survive trauma requires immense resilience whatever the outcome. But PTSD also isn't an inevitable outcome. (George Bonnano's book The End of Trauma is poorly titled - he doesn't promise to end trauma - but was a really informative read on resilience.) Also, the fact that 85% of the people who evacuated the Twin Towers on 9/11 did not develop PTSD makes me skeptical of how many people would develop PTSD from reading or watching a movie; if as a species we're that resilient when our lives are truly threatened and death is all around us, I expect we'll be pretty resilient in milder circumstances. [However, some forms of trauma have far higher likelihood of PTSD than others because of different factors: for instance, about half of sexual assault survivors experience PTSD, because our culture really sucks at supporting SA survivors. The same article says 94% of survivors experience PTSD symptoms in the first 2 weeks; I think this is what the 'acute stress disorder' diagnosis is intended to cover.]

-So then what do we actually mean when we say "traumatized"? Speaking for myself as OP, I'd mean either/or 1. Developed symptoms of PTSD or acute stress disorder, or 2. Went through an experience known to lead to symptoms of PTSD or acute stress disorder (on which I'll defer to section A of the DSM-5's diagnostic criteria for PTSD), even if such symptoms didn't develop or have since resolved. This definition may be somewhat circular. It is not perfect (the DSM is not an unimpeachable document; at the same time, informed and caring people are always at work to improve it). But I think it gets at a real distinction that will emerge if we compare the experiences of, for instance, people who actually had a friend die suddenly in childhood vs people who just read Bridge to Terebithia.

-In hindsight it might have been helpful to define what I think it means to be "traumatized" in my OP, but it isn't easy to get the entire contents of Judith Herman's Trauma and Recovery plus Bessel van der Kolk's The Body Keeps the Score plus the odd discussion in the therapist's office into a concise blog post. And maybe it was more productive to leave the term undefined so each reader has to examine their own definition/understanding of it. (I'm giving myself too much credit. Even so.)

I'm wondering if, as a society who cares about vulnerable people, we could stop saying "traumatize" when we truly mean "upset"?

I am sick of hearing sad books or movies "traumatize" their readers. I simply do not believe that happens. A traumatic experience might be adjacent to books (I have vivid memories of books I was reading around certain experiences and even how the contents of those books affected my processing of the experiences). But it's not caused by the book. And, y'know. The weather is Christofascist Censorship Attempts outside.

Meanwhile from the other side I continue to be surprised at just how badly people fail to understand trauma and traumatic experiences in general. Watering down the term isn't helping. Find other hyperbole to express that The Bridge to Terebithia gutted you, chewed on your heartstrings, and made you cry your first pair of contact lenses right out of your preteen eyes.

[onehelluvafan]

Soo... anyone else notice this look from "Better Than Blitzo" right before he kissed Stolas?

Yeeaahhhh, quick question. What the fuck?! lol

It's the epitome of "blink and you miss it," taking up just two frames, which is a single illustration in Helluva Boss.

I actually spent two months making a 30 minute video on this that I uploaded to YouTube back in August. Unfortunately, my channel was taken down in the latest algorithm crawl, but if you’d like to watch it, here’s a link to it on Odysee and BitChute.

Otherwise, buckle up while I take us on a journey ✨ I have three basic ideas I'll be delving into, split into three posts:

Part One: His tattoo—what it is, what it means, and what (or who) it could be linked to.

Part Two: Verosika—how and why she could have orchestrated things.

Part Three: Just an ex??—what his personal motivations could be for taking the time to check if Blitz is watching before kissing Stolas.

Keep reading to dive into Part One!

Before we dive in, just a quick heads-up that I will not be referring to this Incubus as “Better Than Blitzo.” Partly because it’s kind of long but mostly I just really like the nickname I’ve given him, which is: “IncuBlitz.”

IncuBlitz Part One: His Tattoo

I’ll start things off with the tattoo on IncuBlitz’s arm and its possible significance.

Because this thing is strikingly similar to Stolas’ crest, leading a lot of us to wonder—Is IncuBlitz some sort of Stolas stalker?  Or does he work for someone in the Ars Goetia who has a similar crest?

In both cases, I think the barometer is going to be how similar his tattoo is to Stolas’ crest, but I’ll go into a little more detail on why he might be working for another Goetia and who it could be.

I think Aldreaphus, Stolas’ brother-in-law, would be the most likely candidate in this scenario, considering that we’ve already been introduced to him and his manipulative nature. 

In Western Energy, we see him convince Stella to call off the hit on Stolas so that they can wait for, and possibly even create, an opportunity to take advantage of him later—be it for his position, wealth, power, or all three.

Even more compelling, we see what appears to be an attack or takeover by Aldreaphus at Stolas’ palace in the trailer for the second half of season two.

It’s been theorized that he may be hoping to take over Stolas’ position partially because in mythology, he’s actually already known to be an astronomer. 

This would obviously overlap nicely with Stolas’ duties, which would make him a prime candidate to take over his position—be it temporarily until Octavia has finished her training, or perhaps even permanently depending on what he’s capable of and willing to do.

So far, we’ve only seen this brief glimpse of him in Western Energy, so we don’t know yet what his actual cannon position is in the Goetia family. The mythological Andrealphus is not associated with any sort of ice powers, so it’s possible that this is where any likeness between the two ends. 

But regardless of any previous knowledge or affinity for astrology, I can see Andrealphus being interested in Stolas’ status and position. Whether it’s to have for himself, or to get close to Octavia so that he can take advantage of his influence with her in the future.

So, in this theory, IncuBlitz would have been strategically placed to get information from Stolas, keep tabs on him, manipulate him, and possibly even to further drive a wedge between Stolas and Blitz.

For any other Goetia, the desire to keep Stolas and Blitz apart could just be for appearances and maintaining the social structure that they’ve put into place. 

But if Andrealphus is his employer, I think he would have a different reason to keep them apart. And that’s to keep Stolas from having someone who can protect him.

Because if he knows anything about either attempt by Striker to assassinate Stolas, then he would be aware that in both cases, Blitz or someone under Blitz’s employ, intervened. 

The first time, they completely stopped him, causing the assassination attempt to be a failure, which resulted in Striker having to actually flee. 

Then, during the second attempt, despite it being called off by Stella, Moxxie and Millie’s intervention did prevent Striker from bringing Stolas to Stella and Andrealphus, which is what her explicit instructions to him had been.

Now that I’ve covered how a Goetia could be involved, let’s move on to what I personally believe to be the determining factor for both aspects:

How similar is IncuBlitz’s tattoo to Stolas’ Crest?

Because if IncuBlitz is actually a stalker, we would expect the tattoo to be as close to Stolas’ crest as possible. And if it belongs to someone else in the Ars Goetia, that implies that Geotic crests, in general, would all have at least a heart in common.

So far, the only crest we’ve seen that we know to be associated with the Geotia family belongs to Stolas. Considering that we’ve only ever seen his crest displayed within his own palace, I’d say that, at best, it’s unclear whether other demon royalty also have similar, heart-themed crests.

But let’s explore that a bit. 

The seals that we’ve seen so far, belonging to several Sins, Paimon, and Stolas himself, all seem to have the same basic structure.

This could lend credence to the idea that other Goetian royalty could also have a similar crest to Stolas. But personally, I don’t think it’s likely.

Mostly because Stolas’ crest seems to reflect him personally. From the tip of his five-pointed crown down to his cloak and neck accessory.

We haven’t seen much of Aldreaphus’ castle, but in the room that is shown, there does not appear to be anything present that resembles a heart.

In fact, we don’t actually know yet if Aldreaphus is canonically a marquee in the Hellaverse, the way he is in mythology. So it’s possible that he doesn’t have a crest at all if those are limited to the upper ranks of royalty. But if he does have a crest, I think it’s the snowflake that’s depicted on his chest and plateware.

At first, I thought his crown being shorter than Stolas’ and only having 3 points was an indicator of lower status. Especially considering that we see Stella, Octavia, and Baby Stolas with similar crowns.

But after realizing that Paimon’s also only has 3 points, I dug a little deeper and found this.

Apparently, there is something called a Celestial Crown that has five points, which are usually depicted with a star on each tip. 

With Stolas’ job as a Goetia being to study the stars, it makes sense that his crown would be reflective of his line of work. 

Considering this, I don’t think Andrealphus’ ice-themed crown and possible crest give us enough information to determine whether he is or is not a marquee.

But either way, there doesn’t appear to be any evidence to support the theory that IncuBlitz’s tattoo is reflective of a connection to himself.

Now, let’s take a look at the tattoo and compare it directly to Stolas’ crest.

One thing I noticed was that even though it doesn't look like his normal crown, he is wearing a crown that looks similar to the tattoo, both as a child and at this particular party as an adult.

I went back and scrubbed through footage of the entire show, trying to find any other instances of this kind of tattoo or imagery.

While Verosika and Millie both have heart tattoos like the one on IncuBlitz’s lower back, the closest thing I could find to the tattoo on his arm is the door to the prototypes at Ozzie’s.

This has led me to believe that it might truly just be a heart with a cupid’s arrow pointing down. Though it does look a little odd with the additional v-shape between the arrowhead and the bottom of the heart. I’m not sure if that’s supposed to represent a bow or is just a stylistic choice, but, interestingly, the heart on the back of the romance novel that Stolas is reading at the beginning of this episode does have something similar going on.

So, in the end, I think his tattoo might genuinely just be symbolism. An indication that he’s a kindred ‘romantic’ spirit, maybe who also wears his heart on his sleeve; Or even simply that he’s just not afraid of love and romance the way that Blitz is. If so, perhaps it’s intended to be another implication of why he is “Better Than Blitzo.”

Click here for Part Two: Verosika

[plurapony]

How the Mane Six would react if you told them you're a system!

1. Fluttershy

"I'm sorry I don't know what this is can you explain it to me? [after explaining] oh okay! I'll be sure to make sure I'll be kind to whichever one of you I meet!"

Always makes sure she's not offending you in any way, doesn't want to get anything wrong.

Wants to ask more questions because she's curious but feels it might be too invasive so just keeps her questions to herself and asks Twilight Sparkle later on.

Super kind to nonhuman and little alters and acts as a caretaker.

2. Rainbow Dash

"Oh no way! You really have all that stuff happen in your head? Can I talk to them too?"

Doesn't really understand much about systems but is very interested whenever you talk about it.

Whenever any of your alters talk to her she gets so incredibly excited about it and talks to them eagerly.

Sometimes gets things wrong on purpose just so you can correct her and explain more about being a system.

3. Pinkie Pie

"WAIT OH MY GOD DID YOU ENTER THE MIRROR POOL TOO? DID YOU GUYS DESTROY THE TOWN???"

Is convinced that she has the same experience as you and she knows what it's like to be a system. (Maybe she does?)

Doesn't really understand but her heart is in the right place.

She's encouraged your alters to go into the mirror pool to get separate bodies on several occasions.

Screams at anyone who is mean to you and is very protective over you.

4. Applejack

"Sugar I really don't understand what you're talking about, but I'll help in any way I can"

Makes you feel extremely comfortable even though she doesn't completely understand.

Never judges any alters that you split and treats them all as equals and how she treats you.

Stands by your side whenever other people are making you uncomfortable, ready to defend you as soon as you want her too.

5. Twilight Sparkle

"Oh Dissociative Identity Disorder! I've read about this in one of my books! Let me know what I can do to help!"

Has asked you to take part in several experiments so that she can write her on paper on DID.

Whenever you vent about being a system to her you notice she's got a notebook and she's furiously scribbling down notes.

You always feel so reassured while around Twilight she genuinely cares about your system a lot.

6. Rarity

"So my dear, each of you have different personalities? So I can make a different outfit for each alter?"

Made different dresses and outfits for each of your alters that encompassed their personalities and made them feel comfortable.

Doesn't ever pry about system stuff and just treats all your alters as individuals.

THAT'S ALL FOLKS!!!! LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT MORE PONY PERSPECTIVES!!!!!

[IMAGE ID: ponyville is a (pro) endo free zone break dni and get blocked loser! END ID]

[thefirstknife]

My Grimoire Vol 7 (Penumbra) arrived and it's a banger. I'll post some illustrations from it and some new lore that hasn't been seen before.

The grimoire contains several full lore books: Unveiling, Regarding Stasis and Inspiral + multiple individual grimoires and lore tabs. It also contains some parts of several collector's editions (BL, WQ and TFS). I'll transcribe new lore under read more, but first! Intro and pictures:

Intro from Eris!

Friend. I write as a woman changed. My recent contact with the Darkness was as formative as my long-ago rebirth in the Light. So after all this, here, at the end, I will say: Do not ignore the changes we have endured, and do not disregard the difference between the Light and Darkness. It is not vanity for me to acknowledge that I have unique insight to impart. I have witnessed Darkness in all its forms, in all its terrible pain and contortions, and all the violence it inflicts. But despite this and above all, I see in it the aches and yearnings for a more complete world. There is collapse and indistinction, but also, there is preservation. Not stultifying, but vital. This is what I have learned. We have harnessed the Darkness because it beats harnessing. It has yielded the fruits of our future, nurtured against great opposition. Every boundary invites transgression. We are not beyond our own affronts, which have inevitably changed us. That is not weakness, or folly, or failure. I maintain that balance is not equity. I do not accept the Darkness on the same terms as the Light. Darkness is a tool to be used and a path to walk, but it is not our essence. We must hold fast to that understanding. To do otherwise invokes delusion. The Darkness and the Light are not opponents, but neither are they allies. There is a natural conflict between them, but we have the capacity to hold contradictions within ourselves, and so they mingle with great effort on our part. That is the beauty of our complexity, the purview of the Light. Our safe contact with the Darkness is only possible because of the Light. Even so, the Light exists not as our protector, but as our guide. That is all I wish to impart. To every fire, its fuel, Eris Morn.

This is the illustration for Clovis' dream from the Traveler in which the Traveler appears as a wolf, from BL CE. The dream is in the book. More under (seriously long post below):

These are two Darkness grimoires with this additional drawing.

It Stared Back with the illustration of Calus. There's also this page of the Confessions lore book.

This grimoire with the illustration.

The entire Unveiling, the illustration is paired to "The Flower Game" page.

Drifter illustration paired with his entry in the TFS lore book, Chirality.

They put THE lore of all time, Pujari and the Black Garden, and paired it with this illustration.

The entire Regarding Stasis lore book and illustration with this page :)

A lot of stuff from the WQ CE, this illustration of Ikora going ham on Shaxx and Zavala and Ikora playing their game included.

The entire Inspiral lore book is here as well, with these two illustrations.

Mataiodoxia lore tab with this illustration. Subjugator!

And now! New lore. Some of these may be upcoming lore pages? Or they're only for this book, unsure yet. But either way, they're not in the game as of now.

Club Morgue Ahsa, lay low your flukes. Doff your cap and coat. You're safe here. You know you'll keep your promise to find the place where this all began. But for now, rest. No, I'm not death, though it is my tool. "Nothing" doesn't interest me, you understand? A flawed existence is preferential to none at all. Things are the way they have to be, instead of the way they'd like to be. Ah, Ahsa. You saw it all - the extinction, the extermination, the gamma-ray bursts burning up your garden worlds, the singularities eating up infant suns. It hurt you so! And you turned to me, asking why it had to be. I didn't answer. I never do. I'm a question. It's up to you to find the answer. Build the castle. So far they all fall over, but maybe one day one won't. How? I don't know. Figure it out, do the work, ask the question. What will remain in the end, when the stars go out, and creation freezes in the half-light of evaporating black holes? These killers you're after. They were very much like you, Ahsa. They wanted to know why; why there had to be life, why there had to be death. But then, not liking the answer they made for themselves- Well. You'll see. Go on, Ahsa. Someone's coming to see you, and I'm sure she's got a real humdinger of a proposal for you to hear. Her sister, though... it'll really wind her up if you die by any other hand but hers. She means to take you for her worm. And she pretty much runs this town, truth be told. Watch yourself out there. It's a war zone.

I will assume this is future lore tab for Heresy. Deals with the Hive and someone talking to Ahsa. Very strange speaking tone, reminiscent of Unveiling to me. Obvious mention of Savathun ("humdinger of a proposal") and Xivu who apparently wants to take Ahsa as her worm. Very strange overall, probably lacking in context from the next episode, but a nice little treat for what might be coming in Heresy. Would love to see more on Ahsa!

Charybdis It seemed so simple to me when I first heard it: the strongest survive. It's obvious. If it can be destroyed, it must be destroyed. And in that destruction, the victor becomes even stronger. Kind of like Guardians, honestly. All of us. It makes sense of how we grow. Take the Crucible. We sharped our skills against each other in the arena. The less skilled become fodder - for a match point, for practice, for testing new ways of burning or electrocuting or... spaghettifying. Those who reach the top climb stairs made of bodies. Sword logic seems simple, clean, beautiful. Scooped out of Hive goop and guts, it shines like a searchlight, a bright beam cutting across the sky in perfect straight lines. But there's something more to it. Some extra... magic? The Hive do magic, sure. Runes and math and a sharp edge. What are the Hive doing that we can't do? Or is it more about the Darkness than the Hive? Or is it both? I need to know. To be part of it. I decided the best place to start figuring it out was by studying Hive. The way they live, the way they die. And no one looks at me twice for going after Hive - any good Guardian fights Hive, right? I beat through Thralls and Acolytes with my burning mauls. It got routine. And one day, as typical as any other, I realized how easy it was, how these Acolytes were barely worth the air they breathed if they were just going to break like simple bone - but then, something changed. I felt it. My mind reshaped into sword-thinking. I began to practice it like I lived it, and then I did live it. It was part of me, and I of it. You'll feel it, too, if you follow that path. You'll know when the sword goes from being your weapon to part of your arm. I became one with the sword, and the Light in my hands burned brighter and brighter. Since then, I've just been getting stronger. I triumph, and the Light sings, and from my heart to my fingertips, I am alight with glory. Again, and again, I prove my existence to be the truest thing: that I am more real than any other who strives to strike at me. My sword, my self, is forged in Light, and it is hungry. What else can I do with this sharpness that I have cultivated so carefully? What else could WE do? How strong could we become? We Guardians are worthy. I know I can yet become sharper. // ACCESS: RESTRICTED DECRYPTION KEY: 32C49KLD032XAR-612 HIDDEN AGEND: [REDACTED] RE: VIP #1290 Departure from the City Confirmed VIP #1290 has left the Last City without further incident. Hidden agents have traced her trail and have destroyed data and materials left behind to avoid potential misuse or corruption. However, VIP #1290 eventually discovered the Hidden tracker and burned it out - so she's in the wind. Ghost status currently unknown, but probably alive. At least for now. At this time, recommend scouts do not approach. She's dangerous enough without us feeding her. At least she's out there, not in here.

Another one that seems like something coming up in Heresy. Some Guardian who we only know is a Titan has started practicing the Sword Logic and she's dangerous and currently missing. VIP number is brand new, it doesn't match any of the existing ones so we don't know who this is. Either not entirely important, as it's just one small look into what's going on or it's something that will be further elaborated in Heresy. That is, if my assumption that these are going to be lore tabs in the game is correct. Certainly feels like it.

Next is a new lore tab from Osiris! On the left is an old lore tab, on the right is new.

On Concerns, Previously Expressed Ikora, You know as well as I that the Vex yet require attention. I have said before - many, many times - that their threat is greater than any other. And while the recent depredations of the WItness have proven this set of priorities temporarily mis-ordered, I fear that the threat of the Vex may not only spread in the aftermath, but also go underestimated. It is tempting to let our guard down and breathe easy. We cannot. Before my exile, I made plain my opinions on Light and Darkness, on the foolishness of considering them "good" and "evil." This remains true, doubly so now. Our enemy was never the Darkness itself, but that which worked within it. And that childish division of good against evil has distracted from the unceasing enemy: the Vex. They care not which force they grasp. They care not about morality. They care - if one can call it that - only for convergence. They advance, and they will not stop unless we stop them. Every time they have closed their gap to paracausality, even in the smallest way, it has been nigh disastrous. I am sure I need not remind you of Quria, of the eternal night that threatened to fall over the Last City. Of the Black Heart, that Vex attempt to recreate the Veil which could itself have been catastrophic. Of the Black Garden, and the remnant of the Witness that Guardians found there, redolent of Darkness. We may not yet have seen what happens when the Vex grasp the Light, but I assure you, if it has not yet begun, it soon shall. Time is inevitably limited, until the Vex in their infinite adaptability learn how Light and Darkness both may be turned to their advantage. It is my recommendation as advisor to the Vanguard that the Vex be logged as the most urgen enemy of sentient life, both of the Last City and the growing alliances formed these past years. Please, Ikora. I would not raise this yet again if I did not believe it to be of utmost importance. Consider it well. -Osiris.

NO CLUE where to place this one. It's definitely not in the game, so either also upcoming lore or just in the book. What makes me suspicious about it being upcoming lore is that the name is too big to be an item, so maybe a lore book page? But Heresy is largely going to be about the Hive so I'm intrigued about a letter from Osiris to Ikora urging her to act on the Vex being relevant. Other than that, it's Osiris back to cooking about the Vex. He is out here literally "as per my last email"-ing Ikora and continuing the same argument he's had for centuries. I am also wondering where is this lore tab in relation to the stuff from Echoes. It's likely post-Witness' defeat, but no idea if it's also after Echoes. Osiris is definitely worried about them getting paracausality and reaching for the Light. Future setup? Very cool, I ate it.

Both of these are new.

On the Witness My Hidden friend, The neonate worm, Ahsa. She spoke to the Guardian, and this is what she imparted: Look to the place where the Witness formed. An exhausted world, made so long ago that even silicon was a luxury. That is where the hunt began. The Traveler graced that world. But it wasn't enough. Those who lived there saw a creation born to die. They wanted it to mean something. It had to mean something. And if it didn't, they would make it mean something. For, in their view, to make something was to understand it. I understand this impulse too well. But they chose a truly rotten betrayal. To open up and take, and remake, their god. And they would use the Darkness to do it. Finding no meaning at all in the act of creation, they decided, that the only place left for reason, intent, and consciousness to reside was in the act of elimination. If their god the Traveler made things for no reason, then a merciful, purposeful winnower must have good reason to remove them. In mimicry of this belief, they winnowed themselves down to a single awareness - all their thought and pain compressed into a bombshell of consciousness and intent. Magnificently aware of all the universe's failings. A conscious witness to the testament of the Light's sins. A final, ruinous creation born of their civilization. A knife. And it set out after the Traveler. Not to destroy it, but to defeat it. To impose a will upon an absence it saw as unacceptable. Negligent. To dictate, by force, how things ought to be. The motive is to impose meaning upon Dark and Light beyond mere primordial dynamics. The killer is an anthology of this ancient civilization's rage at their god's silence. I find that I pity these vanished people. But if all the cosmos turned inward, as I turned inward for a while, as these people turned inward forever, then we would all be alone. Yes, it is awful to face loss. But we must keep cooperating in the face of all extinction. Or there can never be anything better. This is all I know.

Also most likely coming up in Heresy. Wild stuff in here. Ahsa is mentioned again; I'm not sure if this is referring to what Ahsa showed us back in Deep or if she'll be showing us something more. Obviously it would be spoilers to tell us everything but these little bits and pieces are unhinging my mind. No idea who is talking here and to whom; my assumption is that Mara is writing to Eris, mostly because Mara says "My Hidden friend" to Eris in the Taken King opening cutscene. What to say about this other than I am insane. More about the Witness and its civilisation please.

Cacophony, Euphony We listen. We witness. We wait. Through the Darkness, we hear a single voice. With a thought, we are there, to touch the mind that reaches into this domain. Cradled by Darkness, it asks a question. We answer this one, like we have others. We are generous with answers. Not all beings can understand the answers we give, but we try. Again, and again. None ought to cry out, only to suffer no answer. There are always more voices in the Darkness, reaching out. We turn. Far distant, there is a people lacing ribbons of Darkness through their thoughts to bring them closer together, that no one might be divided from the purpose they have dreamed for themselves. But they have no come to Darkness through the Gardener's neglect - it is simply their natural course. In time, we shall enfold them into our shape, but they need not urgent salvation. Our presence drifts. And still, we listen in the Darkness. There is violence that corrodes constructs like peace. There is the Hive. Some resist the rampaging Hive, crying out into the Darkness. It is to us they reach, in the end. We hear their pleas and grant them succor, salvation, enshrining them in our monument. Toward our inevitable final shape. There is time enough to reach out to the farthest corners of Darkness, to inhabit it so deeply and thoroughly; we will hear whomever calls out in it. We will answer. We will always answer. Even that which passes temporarily below our notice will be found again; and we will hear those questions and give purpose. Give salvation. Always, we listen for signs of the Gardener. Our Disciples pursue it still, to pluck it from the chords of infinity. We listen. We wait.

This is a banger. Also probably coming in Heresy (or after?). Very curious about this one. There's indication that this is from the Witness while it still lived; the speaking as "we," the name mentioning "euphony" (Salvation's Edge raid exotic also with curious lore in regards to the Witness), saying "our Disciples." It also makes sense; the Witness felt betrayed and abandoned by the Traveler who never spoke back and never answered questions or given directions, so the Witness sought to do the opposite. It's why it was so easy to fall under its influence; the Witness always reaches back. And it's all framed as the Witness believing it was helping. I also love how it mentions other species that were using Darkness naturally; they aren't specified, but we know they existed. Either way, I'm obsessed.

Finally! These two are also both new and it's how the whole book ends. This is a different "Winnowing" from the one in Inspiral.

Winnowing I have come to delight so in this: in possibility, and its end. Oh, I kicked and fought and screamed about it at first! I was fond of what we had! But the table was upturned, and a knife cannot be un-invented, and so here we are. The rules changed - a little. The pattern altered - but a micron. I got used to it, as they say. People can get used to anything, and the same holds true for concepts that have existed before and after time itself, though it may take an eon or twenty. So here I am, among the stars. They burn so brightly, but given a billion or ten billion years, they chill: their mass reduces to nothing but throbbing embers, at last gasping into stillness and ash. Even the loudest of celestial roars cannot outpace infinity. I am assured. I have come around. There is charm in diversity, in the uncountable ways a speck of cosmic dust may climb to cognizance and philosophy, only to find the same old truth of decay. Again and again, I am proven right: it all ends the same. It isn't about violence, mind you. It's about inevitability. Simplicity. The unnecessary removed, the requisite remaining. Whether the knife is made of metal or the folded layers of time, it matters no. The pattern triumphs. The stars burn out. And I am right. So every being made in that garden of possibilities, every creation that looks at infinity and comes to my same conclusion - why, I cannot help but love them. The rules were altered, and still they have said: here is the truth. Possibilities do not change what is. The pattern is the pattern, and its reliable certainty is its beauty. Even a cheater of eternity cannot yet win its wager. The game is longer now, but I will be its victor. In this eon, or a thousand hence.

Losing it seriously, I'm losing it. This is a clear throwback to Unveiling and Inspiral and also Nacre! It is the same speaker or emulating the same speaker at least, so we'll call it "Winnower." I really like how it calls itself a concept. There's not really much to say other than delving into a 10k word essay on the philosophy and concepts and options and possibilities (hah) so yeah. Very obviously referring to the Flower Game and the change in rules with paracausality and how this entity still believes itself to be correct and how it will still win in the end. Since it literally refers to itself as a concept, I will continue treating this whole thing as allegorical rather than talking about it as some real character, at least until further notice. There's a lot of metaphorical language going on here and I will continue looking at it as such rather than making clickbait statements like "this is the new antagonist and we'll fight it in a raid in 10 years." Maybe! Who knows. For now, all we have is yapping like this and this thing calling itself a concept and talking in allegories. Either way, absolutely stunning piece of lore. There's a reason my favourite thing ever is Unveiling and it's this mystical, religious incomprehensible information from a thing that maybe exists beyond time and space, who everyone can interpret in a different way. 10/10

Gardening You delight in possibility. The same action, over and over, only produces the same results if all circumstances are the same. But there are so many variables - a million different outcomes may spring forth from one action. One stray atom changes a lifetime, and one breath of wind, an eon of history. Choice is infinite; and possibility, endless. To some, it is only statistics. But you have ever been captivated by that miracle. You know stagnancy. You have seen it many times: the same stable oblong it all comes down to when growth has ended. The soft-pulsing oscillation over one spot, never truly carrying on further until stirred by some outside force. A depletion of possibility, the flowers never finding further growth, even if they never die. A single breath might be enough to change it. You understand, of course, that a breath is a breath, and a flower is a flower. That, having bloomed, the petals will one day fall. Still you guard the next flower, and the next, for there is meaning in the moment of bloom. So you breathe. So potential spirals, like seeds floating on the wind. One breath. Barely a whisper. Nothing more than that. And for such a thing, the gift of infinity. Always, always, you look on with hope.

Obviously as opposed to Winnowing, there is Gardening. I believe this is the Traveler's POV, primarily because it's told in second person, which is typical for the Traveler. Also because of everything is says and how it ends. Like an opposite of the previous entry. What a banger to end the whole book with, both of these side by side. Again, probably new lore coming in the future, or maybe just for this book? These could honestly be grimoire-exclusive, but who knows. Much to think about, much to look forward to.

It's a really good grimoire. They all are honestly, if you can grab these physical books, I highly recommend them. This is one is really nice because it also has several entries that are otherwise locked to collector's editions and it comes with all of this new stuff as well. The illustrations are, as always, peak.

Hope y'all enjoy this, especially the new stuff.

[andreabaideas]

@mzannthropy

Seeing your tags in the previous post ("I come across as a hater" one) was the final straw for something that has been eating me for months :

I've been seeing (and many other peoples tags here at Tumblr or Twitter and Instagram opinions, or TikTok) kinda justifying or explaining themselves for liking or disliking things...

And I am so fucking tired of seeing women, ALWAYS, having to defend their things, I wonder why Only women? Never or almost never men, I feel so envious of their self confidence tbh.

No one truly should have to explain themselves. You can like and dislike whatever you want...

Heretics rock!!!!!!!!

I enjoy reading different opinions...I mean I am a fandom war veteran at this point!!! I survived Supernatural drama, TVD drama, The Hunger Games love triangle war....Even the biggest one : Team Edward vs Team Jacob on Twilight fandom for fucks sake!!! XD.

And as a Twilight veteran fan (since 2007) believe me, i've learned to not give a DAMN crap about others opinions on my little beloved things that make me happy ("Twilight suck" , "Its just for Girls", "vampires dont sparkle"....🙄🖕Let me enjoy my shitty problematic beloved saga!!!! ) cause i'm happier like that XD.

On a personal note about you @mzannthropy and to show my example.

I like things similar to you that we share and we speak about, which make me very happy to talk-write about with you (or with other whom i share interests with) like : Sam Claflin, Florence Welch , The count of Montecristo, Agatha Christie, Cats...I even started reading LM Montgomery for curiosity , as i had just read Anne of the Green gables as a teen, i am re reading her now and i'm liking her!!!! I Will read everything I find of her ASAP.

But i also have different tastes to you: I dont hate me before you (I dont like It either Its so so to me like 6/10) , I like Peeta a lot while I dislike Gale with an intensity (Im always going to say that id rather have him dead than Finnick, i'll die on that hill, forever angry at Suzanne Collins) and I fucking love Riley Keough (I know you dislike / hate her).

And what? Does that make me unable to relate to you??

Noooopeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

We just have different tastes and thats okay!! I like /reblog your posts that I like, the ones i dont...i ignore, and that's It. You probably do the same I guess?

I dont get why people make such a fuss! I myself received hate for liking daisily, like... Calm tf down girl , i'm just a (still) young woman reposting photos and gifs?! What harm can i possibly make you with my things??...But i blocked and I moved on. And I bitch about hatefull people like that Sometimes.

Related to the previous Sam post :

I must admit i dont dislike any of Sam's co-stars, I like most or feel neutral tbh. I even made a post with Sam + Chemistry, with my personal list of faves, those Who I didn't post about were neutral to me, fine but not super Special, and I know how you feel about that C word XD...

Believe me I find It cheap myself...but I don't know how explain that to people without that word , in english that's it...In spanish (and french too) there are way better more complex words for romantic / frienship /sexual or mixed complex conections?? English sometimes Its poor compared. We mediterraneans are messier we need those words to figure ourselves out XD.

Conclusion to this long post :

Everyone has right to their opinions and speak for themselves, Thats freedom of speech, if everyone thought the same It would be super boring tbh.

And @mzannthropy You are not a hater you are yourself. Period. Keep posting the way you do, cause Its very you , and It makes It very cool :)

Looooong pooost aaagaaaiin.

Sam Claflin and Holliday Grainger in ‘Any Human Heart’ (2010)  

[rothime]

when the fic is good but it's so out of character that I feel like I'm reading an entire different book with characters that have the same name as the ones from the original media

[omaano]

"Cassian's face is a brittle thing, no person's eyes should shine as painfully tearful as his. Kino offers his hand and Cassian - bright as the sun, steady as a roc, fluid as water Cassian - accepts it with shaking fingers. He tells Kino everything."

Art for we're spitting off the edge of the world by Xenomorphic for the 2024 Star Wars Big Bang @swbigbang. It is an amazing Canon Divergence Fix-it fic from one of the most memorable moments of Andor onwards, with beautiful prose that fits the mood of the show so so well and will make you feel just as deeply for these characters. Please give it a read and heap some love on my team's amazing and hardworking author, they were such a delight to work with!❤️

[the-physicality]

so i'm about to dive into college basketball in addition to pwhl in addition to wnbl [sydney only] in addition to nwsl playoffs bc my brain needs to be fed constantly

[get-back-homeward]

Life With The Lennons, Exclusive by Ray Coleman, April 1965 [x]

[transthadymacdermot]

Don't have any excerpts I feel are good enough to share from today but I did make a collage of the works of fiction which off the top of my head most influenced my nanowrimo project

[foreverxdaydreaming]

x

[veunho]

Playing Elnea kingdom as if Knights and Scholars are sort of like nobility, and trying to figure out arranged marriages between them (and also my character) on first gen to get the best talent odds on future generations is a NIGHTMARE

[degendame]

What Went Wrong?

Chapter One

Chapter 2 Here Rating: Explicit (for later content)

Category: F/M

Relationships: Female Farmer/March

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Major Character Injury, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance

Word Count: 5639

~~

Mistria's newest resident, Sylvan, has comfortably settled into her life in the small town. Having had a hand in every project to restore and improve Mistria, she's gained the townsfolk's respect, including that of the distrustful and cold blacksmith. Their friendship has developed over time, but March's insecurities and jealous tendencies bubble up, leading to hurt feelings as Sylvan sets off into the mines.

Later that same day, March discovers her collapsed in the rain just outside town, seriously injured, leading him to feel immense guilt and wonder what went wrong?

~~

The chilly fall air blew through the forge, carrying dried leaves across the anvil and tousling March’s hair, a welcome contrast to the heat of the forge he had been working all morning. He rolled his shoulders, working out some of the tension from leaning over the anvil while he observed the order form Adeline had given him this morning. 

He had finished the brackets that were required, he could finish the nails today as well, work on fasteners tomorrow, and be able to turn it all in tomorrow evening. March grinned to himself, she probably wasn't expecting a two-day turn around, but of course he could deliver.

“You look pleased with yourself.” an amused tone cut through his thoughts.

He jumped a little, but quickly regained his composure, “There’s a lot to be pleased with.” he said, gesturing broadly to himself with a smug grin.

Sylvan, Mistria’s newest resident, snorted at his ego, rolling her eyes. It had been a few seasons since she arrived, and the work she’s been putting into the community is evident all over her body. Her skin took on a slight tan over the summer, and although it was fading as winter approached, the tone still brought attention to the scars that littered her arms; some were faded and older from her time as an adventurer in the guild before she took up residence in Mistria, others still pink or white and fresh from her many expeditions into the local mines as of late. She had toned up quite a bit as well, she mentioned before that despite being an adventurer, she didn’t do as much consistent labour as she did now, mostly only functioning as support for groups that needed it in order to make ends meet, and she was pleased to be really getting into shape now.

She was wearing a dingy brown short-sleeved shirt despite the chill in the air, and a pair of beat up trousers as opposed to crisp shirts and jeans or skirts she usually wore, her normally loose jade hair was tied up, and held back from her face with a red checkered bandana she often wore. “You going to the mines?” he asked.

“Yup, I need some ore, Adeline asked me to make some ingots for a project she’s lining up.” she replied, holding up a parchment with details of the request, “I was just stopping by to let you know I was heading down there.”

“Why? I’m not your babysitter.” March sneered, why wasn’t he asked to source ingots? He’s the blacksmith. He could feel the warm rush of envy course through his body.

However, his head immediately cooled when he saw her face fall into a frown, clearly taken aback by his sudden shift in tone. “Just figured someone should know where I am in case something happens.” she said shortly, making an effort to hide just how hurt she felt, “sorry to bother you.” 

He opened his mouth to say something as she turned on her heel and took off toward the narrows, but his words failed him. When she was out of sight, he kicked a bucket over, “Shit!” he spat, frustration and shame washing over him. 

He was angry with himself, it had been months and while he had been harsh and standoffish to her in the beginning, thinking she would jump ship at the first opportunity, he’s come to realize she’s really in it for the good of Mistria. She’s had a direct hand in every project to rebuild and improve Mistria since she arrived, and he has watched her run herself ragged to the point he could no longer doubt her intentions.

Through it all, she put up with his attitude and showed him genuine kindness and grace. He began to warm up to her quicker than he wanted to admit, her occasional retorts to his snappy remarks were something he grew to enjoy, she took him as he was and delivered comebacks with a smile, even when all he could do was glare. His demeanour has softened over time though, often holding casual, pleasant conversations, or even asking how her day was.

 Some townsfolk have begun to make quips about him falling for her. He was always quick to dismiss the rumours, but he couldn’t deny the way his eyes would linger on her as she passed by, the way his voice would soften towards her when they were alone, or how sometimes he had to fight the urge to reach out and touch her.

Either way, it has been a long time since he made snide remarks about wanting to be left alone, and because of that she probably felt they were at least on friendly terms by now, and they were as far as March was concerned; but his stupid ego and jealousy just had to rear its ugly head as soon as she mentioned Adeline relying on her to procure ingots related to the development of Mistria. 

“Obviously she would do that” his mind chastised him as he mentally kicked himself. She already had him working on an order, so it would be smart to assign the task to someone who not only can source their own ore but has also received lessons from March himself, but his insecurity sits heavy in his chest and he went and said the wrong thing again.

With a heavy sigh, he returned to his work, resolving to try to make it up to her and not make an ass of himself again when they were both less busy.

~~ — ~~

She had been both incredibly unlucky and incredibly lucky today. 

The chill of the night air bit her skin, aiding her in keeping her consciousness from slipping away as she stumbled through the entrance to the mine. Her breathing was ragged and adrenaline still flooded her bloodstream, she had made the unfortunate discovery today that creatures from lower in the mines had made their way up higher, causing some areas to be densely populated with a variety of monsters, some of which she had never encountered before.

 Her body was battered, bruised and bloody, and with her mana entirely depleted there was fuck all she could do about it. She had managed to wrap a particularly bad puncture wound on her calf with some material she tore from her trousers, but she was unable to assess any other injuries, her head was swimming, her vision hazy and her balance was off, in part due to the number of rocks she had flung at her head, but also likely due to the pain that shot up her legs no matter what leg she put weight on.

The only reason she survived was because a stray chunk of iron launched at her by a clod had hit her square in the sternum and knocked her down a crevice, the fall doing more damage to her already beaten body, but also landing her right beside the elevator shaft on the next level down that she was lucky she had already encountered and got working beforehand, enabling her to escape.

I just have to make it to the clinic. She urged herself, forcing her body to move. She wasn’t quite sure how late it was, but she felt pretty certain most of the townsfolk were in bed.

 She awkwardly shuffled and limped her way across the narrows toward town, every movement making her body scream out in pain, she moved at a snail's pace and just as she cleared the narrows and made it to the outskirts of town, it began to rain. The rain soaked her already chilled skin and made her shiver violently, it made it even harder to move, and she could feel her consciousness slipping, she began to lose hope that she would make it much farther… 

 As she began idly hoping someone would find her quickly after she passed out, she heard the distinct clash of hammer on metal cutting through the static sound of the downpour, March was still working.

She tried to call out to him, but her voice came out weak and hoarse. She continued to limp her way toward the road that marked the edge of town, knees threatening to buckle and her vision closing in around her. “Just a few more meters…” she desperately urged herself, but as she dragged her foot across the gravelly road, her toe caught a stone and sent her painfully crashing into the dirt with a dull thud. A searing pain ripped across her side, lighting her body up with pain signals that racked her brain, she definitely just made a wound much worse.

She heard a voice, but the ringing in her ears made it unintelligible. She struggled to lift her head towards it and though her eyes would not focus through the haze and rain, she recognized the familiar mop of crimson hair rushing toward her. Waves of relief crashed through her body at that moment, washing away the last remnants of adrenaline and plunging her into darkness.

~~ — ~~

March had made more progress on the order than he thought he would have today. He figured mostly due to the fact that his encounter with Sylvan this morning made him put his nose to the grindstone to ward off his guilt. Having made all the nails and about half of the fasteners that needed to be done, he checked the time, noting it was just after midnight. He resolved to finish a few more before turning in for the night, knowing full well he was going to have a hard time sleeping anyway, and glad to be in a location where working late into the night wouldn’t disturb anyone except Olric, who slept through practically anything.

The rhythm he fell into as he brought his hammer down on the hot metal was therapeutic, maintaining focus and control helped him clear his head. Using his tongs to bend the piece into shape, he lifted the piece to check that the bend was even, but as he brought it eye-level he watched as a drop landed upon it, fizzling away with a hiss. March paused and looked to the sky as the rain began to ramp up, he decided he should just finish the other piece he had prepped and then call it a night.

Hurrying to work was harder to maintain the zen focus he was trying to achieve, needing to stop to reheat the metal more often as the rain cooled it faster than he wanted. As he ceased hammering to bring it back to the forge, March swore he could hear a strange voice cutting through the rain. 

He paused, straining to listen through the downpour and pinpoint its location, and then– *thud*. The sound came from the direction of the narrows, and the feeling that something was wrong gripped him. Unease settled in his gut as he set his work on the anvil and rounded the wall that separated his property from the wooded area at the edge of town.

His eyes immediately fell on the distinct pattern of a familiar red bandana, “Sylvan?” He called out to her, she was on the ground a few meters from the edge of town, at the sound of his voice she weakly lifted her head to look up toward him. His legs were in motion before he could think to move. 

He was at her side in an instant, but she had already lost consciousness. He fell to his knees, throwing his smithing gloves off, not caring where they landed. “Sylvan!” panic set into his voice as he gently rolled her over, in the dim light that managed to reach from the village he could see she didn’t stir, he pressed his fingers to her neck to find her pulse, and although he found it, it was weak and her skin was so cold under his fingers. 

“Fuck!” he exclaimed to himself, his mind was bombarded with emotions, guilt and worry palpable in his chest, “What happened to you?” the question fell from his mouth despite knowing he would receive no response. Gingerly, he lifted her, and cradled her to his chest in an effort to stabilize her and provide her some warmth as he hurried to the clinic.

            He attempted to keep a low impact trot despite his panic screaming at him to hurry, trying to maintain a semblance of speed while also trying not to shake her too much, he had no idea exactly how bad her injuries were and didn’t want to worsen her condition.

 As he made his way through town, the lights allowed him a much better look at her visible wounds, there was almost no part of her arms or face that weren’t marred with gashes and bruises; he could assume the parts of her that were hidden under her clothes were just as bad, if not worse. He was concerned to notice her breaths come out rough and shallow and how pale she had become.

 It didn’t make sense, she had been down there countless times and though there were times she would get banged up, it was never this bad. As far as March knew, the creatures in the mines were all fairly minor, what changed that would put her in this state?

He paused at the door to the clinic just enough to get a grip on the door handle and rushed inside, “Valen!” he cried out, “We have an emergency!” 

He heard the commotion of her scrambling upstairs before she emerged, clearly having just woken up but already alert, “March! What’s wro–” she began, before her eyes settled on Sylvan in his arms, “Oh gods! Lay her on the examination table, I’ll go prep to tend to her!” she instructed before she rushed back out of sight. 

He gently set her on the table, she let out a weak groan and he hoped that was a good sign. In the light of the clinic, he could see just how bad the variety of wounds that peppered her skin were. 

He looked around the room in an attempt to keep his nerves calm, and caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror on the wall past the exam table. He was soaked from the rain and covered in mud, but what disturbed him the most was the blood, her blood.

 The sight could have made his heart stop; his forearms had some scattered smears from the way he had carried her, but what shocked him the most was the dark crimson stain that spread across his chest where her side had been pressed to his body. He looked at her and confirmed, she had bled through her shirt as he carried her, had he reopened the wound when he moved her? His blood ran cold at the thought.

His mind began to spiral as guilt put his heart in a vice grip, but he was snapped out of his thoughts by Valen, who rushed down the stairs and to her side, getting to work at checking her vitals and assessing the damage.

 “I think her side is bleeding badly.” March managed, his mouth was dry, and his eyes were locked on her side. 

Valen gave him a quick look of sympathy, acknowledging his shocked state and the blood that stained his shirt. She rounded the table, March kept close but out of her way, as she reached for shears and began to cut Sylvan’s clothes from her body. Normally, March would avert his eyes to spare Sylvan's dignity, but at the moment he felt so numb that the situation didn’t even register. Under her shirt she was, as he expected, completely covered in bruises, some were an angry reddish purple while others took on blue and black colouring, various cuts and scrapes peppered her skin, and along her side was a large gash that made him clench his fists anxiously.

“Thankfully,” Valen started, taking a moment to turn to March, “This wound was given enough pressure to begin clotting and isn’t actively bleeding anymore.” She cast a pointed glance to the stain on his shirt, “You did good, March.” He felt some relief in knowing he had aided her in some way. 

Valen continued, “However, it will need stitches.” she sighed, concern painting her face, March’s stomach did flips as she began to list off a summary of injuries, “She’s also got quite a few broken ribs, a puncture wound on her right leg, multiple minor lesions, both ankles are sprained, her left shoulder is partially dislocated and she’s likely got a concussion…”

She paused looking at March, he felt his heart in his throat as she looked confused before she continued, “But despite all the factors, she’s relatively stable. Which is honestly nothing short of a miracle given the damage to her body.”  

March just nodded numbly, not daring to feel relief, as Valen stood and made her way to the corner of the room. His eyes stayed fixated on the slow, shallow rising and falling of Sylvan’s chest to keep him grounded.

“I’m just going to retrieve some elixirs from storage, they should expedite the healing process while keeping her stable, but we may need something stronger…” she trailed off, casting a glance to her patient on the table before she disappeared down the trap door.

Aside from the rough breaths from Sylvan and the muffled sounds of Valen rummaging beneath him, the stillness of the room was stifling. He stepped closer to the exam table, watching Sylvan's face, she was so still she would have almost looked peaceful, if not for the smattering of dirt, blood and bruising that littered her features. He reached for her and gently swiped some dried dirt away that was near her eye, then trailed his hand along the outside of her arm in a tender caress before gently taking her hand in his for a moment. The chill clinging to her skin and the way her fingers just sat limply in his hand made his eyes prickle with tears. The realization that he had been so stupid to avoid his feelings for her stung, the pain only made worse by the fact their last exchange had ended so bitterly.

Suddenly, the door to the clinic slammed open, startling him and making him retract his hand, ripping his attention away from the sorry state of his personal affairs.

“March!” it was Olric, “It’s late and you didn’t come inside, so I went to look for you and I found your gloves by a patch of bloody dirt on the gravel path outside town!” the words tumbled from his mouth at lightning speed, he opened his mouth to speak again but seemed to finally notice the state March was in, eyes flicking to the dark patch on his shirt before darting to the table where Sylvan lay.

March’s throat felt tight as he tried to speak, “I’m sorry, I–” he was cut off as Olric swiftly crossed the room and captured him in a strong embrace, one hand holding his head to his shoulder as his other firmly stroked his back, March allowed himself to return the hug.

“You don’t have to explain.” he said simply, his voice emanating concern and soft understanding, a few moments passed then he gave March a tighter squeeze before letting go. For once, March actually lamented the loss of contact.

Creaking hinges alerted both men to the presence of Valen re-entering from the basement, carrying with her 3 vials, all a similar muddy pinkish red with subtle differences in hue. 

“Ah, Olric.” She greeted him as she approached, “I was about to suggest March go at least leave you a letter while I tend to our friend here so you wouldn’t worry should he not return before you wake up, but I see we were too late.” Her voice held a practised, casual tone, but there was still an underlying bite of concern that she couldn’t quite hide.

She made her way back to Sylvan’s bedside, re-checking her vitals to confirm her condition remained the same. “It’s odd,” she spoke as she began preparing a tray of tools for suturing, “with the state she is in, her vitals should be all over the place, in cases like this things like blood pressure, pulse and breathing should fluctuate.” 

She set the tray on a cart beside the bed, pulling up a stool she situated herself to get ready to start working, her brow furrowed in confusion, “her vitals aren’t healthy, but they aren’t life-threatening, and they’re staying almost too steady… it’s as if something is keeping her that way.”

March watched Valen pour a sterilizing solution on the wound on Sylvan's side as contemplated her words. He was about to speak, but Olric beat him to it, “is that…a good thing?”

Valen sighed as she threaded a needle, “I’m not sure… As it stands right now, I believe it’s what has kept her alive, but I have no idea what the cause is.” She turned to them, a worried look crossed her features, “there’s no telling what the effects will be, it seems like some outside force is keeping her vitals in equilibrium, but I don’t know if it will cease once her body is no longer in danger.”

March’s brain struggled to keep up, slowly putting pieces together through the fog brought on from his stress and exhaustion. He watched Valen work diligently, applying stitches with calculated grace that spoke to her skill. He felt his body tense when what she was avoiding saying clicked into place, “So you’re saying if her vitals just stay this way, she won’t recover?” 

She didn’t look up from her task but was quick to respond, “I can’t say for certain that is what will happen, only that if her vitals are stagnated like this, she won’t get worse, but she won’t get better either.” She began to wrap up the sutures as she continued, “I’m sorry to have alarmed you, that was not a prognosis, I am just as confused as you are in this case.” As she snipped the thread, she turned to March, this time looking right into his eyes, “prepare for the worst, and hope for the best.”

March felt Olric’s hand on his shoulder as she tidied up, and began checking her over again. He felt himself sway in place and he realized just how long he’s been on his feet with all of his muscles tensed.

Having felt the way he faltered, Olric pulled over a chair and offered him a seat, March gave him a thankful nod and noticed how tight his brother was clenching his jaw, as well as his tense shoulders and fists balled at his sides.

Olric noticed March’s assessment of him and relaxed his face into a gentle smile, “have a seat bro, I’m just worried too, but she’ll pull through, we both know she’s tough”

March could sense the uncertainty in his voice but was thankful nonetheless, as he sat down and some of his muscles relaxed a wave of exhaustion hit him hard enough he felt as if he suddenly aged 10 years. He glanced at Valen who was checking over Sylvan, applying pressure to different areas of her chest, looking absolutely perplexed.

“What’s wrong?” March asked, anxiety thrumming through his system anew.

“I-it’s her ribs…” her utter confusion making her trip over her words, she looked up to March, wide-eyed, “many of them have already healed… I don’t just mean that they’ve begun healing, they’re completely healed!”

The brothers exchanged confused and hopeful looks, before March spoke up, “but that’s good though, right?” His voice hesitant.

“Well… yes. Them being healed is good overall, however, the situation with her vitals still perplexing and will require monitoring.” She began to rummage around as she continued, “March, are you going home tonight? If you are concerned, you may stay here in the other bed.” she finished, having dug up a couple of large basins and some towels.

Olric placed his hand on March’s shoulder, “you should stay if it will make you feel better. I’m forcing you to take the day off tomorrow anyway.” He said sternly, “I’ll tell Adeline what happened.”

March stared at Sylvan for a moment before nodding, exhaustion overtaking his ability to speak at that moment. 

“Okay,” Valen started, her voice warm, “I’m going to administer the elixirs, tend to her other injuries, and then get her washed up and into a gown if you would like to go get anything from home.”

March stood and moved toward the door, but Olric stopped him, “you’re exhausted. Why don’t you go sit on the bed and I’ll grab you some clean clothes from home.” 

“Yeah, okay.” March managed, his brother patted him on the back and turned him toward the bed before heading out the door.

March sat staring at the floor ahead of him with his hands folded in his lap, his brain slowly processing the events of the day, the quiet sounds of Valen filling the basins filling the silence. He was so lost in thought he didn’t hear her approach until she was right in front of him, presenting a basin of clean warm water and a couple towels to him.

“Please feel free to clean yourself up, March.” her tone was gentle, acknowledging he was going through a lot at the moment, “I figured you may be too tired to climb into a bath, but this would be better than nothing.”

It was hard for him to find his voice, he desperately wanted to be alone, but also didn’t dare to leave until he knew Sylvan would be alright, “thank you.” He said, voice gravelly and hoarse. Valen smiled warmly before pulling the privacy screen across for him and returning to her patient.

As March stripped down to his boxers the feeling of his shirt peeling from his chest made his skin crawl, he avoided looking down, not wanting the image of his skin tinted with Sylvan’s blood to permeate his mind. He slowly got to work scrubbing his body with the dampened towel, his body was on autopilot, his movements almost robotic, but freshening up a bit felt nice.

He wrapped up quickly and sat back down on the bed, piling his dirty clothes on a chair by the bed and opting to wait in his underwear for Olric to return with his change of clothes. He could hear the sound of trickling water as Valen worked at washing up Sylvan on the other side of the privacy screens. He found himself crossing his fingers as he hoped she would make a quick recovery.

The door to the clinic opened and a moment later Olric was peeking around the privacy screen at March, silently he held up two bottles of beer, and March felt the warmth of his brother's caring gesture wash over him.

Olric set a bag down on the floor by the bed, before pulling a small parchment wrapped parcel out of it and handing it to March, who unwrapped it to find a sandwich his brother had made for him.

“Thanks, Olric.” He said, his voice thick with appreciation, he hadn’t noticed how hungry he was until now, and immediately dug in.

“You know I’ve always got your back,” Olric stated, pulling a bottle opener out of his pocket and popping the top off of each of the bottles he held in his one hand, passing one to March then sitting on the bed next to him.

They sat in silence for a moment while March finished his sandwich, occasionally stopping to wash it down with some beer. Once he was finished, he bunched up the parchment and set it aside on the table beside the bed. 

“I have no idea what happened to her,” he started, “well, I mean, I have some idea, she was in the mines, so obviously something happened there… but what went so wrong?” he chugged back the last of his beer as he finished his thought, feeling the alcohol take just a bit of the edge off his nerves.

“Well,” Olric’s voice was pensive, “when I worked the mines there were practically no creatures to speak of, but from what Sylvan said they’re everywhere now. Sure, they’re all small and weak from what she’s seen so far, but there’s no telling what lies deeper.”

March sighed, “you’re probably right.” He said, pausing to contemplate how naive he had been to assume the safety level of the mines would remain the same throughout. “When I found her, she had collapsed just outside of town, she must have made it all the way there from the mines.” 

He felt his guilt bubble up in his chest anew as he continued, “She stopped by to tell me she was going down there, she wanted someone to know in case something happened… I told her I wasn’t her babysitter and upset her… I should have gone and checked when it got late.”

Olric slung an arm over his shoulder, pulling him into a sideways hug. “You’ll just have to apologize to her when she wakes up.” He said optimistically.

“But what if she doesn’t?” March couldn’t stop his voice from cracking, his eyes beginning to sting as distress settled in around him, “She’s so beaten up, what if something happens and she’s gone? The last thing I did for her was dismiss her because I was stupid and jealous!”

“March.” The level tone in Olric’s voice brought him back to his senses somewhat, “I understand this is really hard and scary and you feel guilty. But you know she isn’t going to hold that against you, and you don’t know that she isn’t going to get better. It isn’t going to do you any good to wear yourself down with what if’s. Besides, you heard Valen, her body is somehow healing itself rapidly, that has to count for something.”

March was silent for a moment, before he let out a tired sigh, “I hope you’re right.” He stood, rummaging through the bag and digging out a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt Olric packed for him to sleep in, he quickly got dressed before turning to his brother again, “Thank you, Olric, for everything tonight.”

“No problem, bro. I’m always here for you.” Olric replied as he got to his feet, “I’ll head home and get some sleep, so I can let Adeline know what’s up first thing tomorrow. Try to get some sleep.” 

“I’ll try.” March replied, exhaustion pounded through every fibre of his being but worry still overrode it heavily, he wondered if he would even get to sleep at all tonight.

Olric gave him a pat on the shoulder before turning and heading for the door. March sat back down on the bed and listened for sound in the clinic that would hint at what was going on. 

“March?” Valen’s voice startled him.

“Yeah?” He replied, a little louder than he intended.

Valen appeared from behind the screen, “She’s doing well, all things considered, I relocated her shoulder, wrapped her ankles up and got all her wounds disinfected and bandaged. She seems to be responding well to the elixirs and remarkably all of her ribs are healed, some of the minor scrapes and bruises healed while I was tending to her as well.”

 She sighed, running her fingers through her hair, “it’s completely outside my scope of expertise, but it seems to be a positive overall, I’ll ask Juniper to come have a look at her tomorrow, it seems like something that she would be more acquainted with. Try to get some rest tonight, I will do the same.”

March nodded, “Thanks for all the help, Valen.” 

She seemed a little taken aback by the appreciation from the usually cold man, “I’m just doing my job, it’s no problem.”

She grabbed the basin from beside the bed, and March heard her empty it before she retired to her room to rest. March laid down, staring at the ceiling and hoping for his exhaustion to take hold and put him to sleep, as the minutes passed by he found that the eerie silence of the clinic didn’t help the unease that still clung to him.

With a sigh, he rose to his feet, resolving to pace around for a bit to try and wear down his nerves but finding his feet carried him right to Sylvan's bedside. Her breathing was no longer as rough as it was before, but it was no less shallow, he guessed that was the work of whatever force was at work here. She was wearing a medical gown and Valen had tucked her in up to her waist with her arms over top of the blanket, her skin was clean with noticeably fewer bruises, and bandages wrapped around her in various locations just as Valen had mentioned.

He reached out and gently brushed her hair away from her face, his fingertips lingering on her cheek, some of the colour had returned to her face and she didn’t feel as cold anymore. He hoped that whatever force was at play here was on her side.

He quietly moved a chair over to her bed, taking a seat and leaning forward, crossing his arms on the bed in front of him. He reached his hand out to rest against her side, and he was able to barely feel the beat of her heart through the slow expanding and contracting of her rib cage on the back of his hand. He rested his head on his arms and it wasn’t long before he was plunged into an exhausted, fitful sleep.

[orcelito]

minor details, but in chapter 68 of trimax we do see this bit:

the items that vash kept in his coat.

a "funbari doll" (which i cant find anything definite online about what that is with just a cursory look, so im going to run under the assumption that theyre some kind of collectable in-universe) & it's a red one, which is apparently rare. he still has the same pen radio that connects to his earring that's used waaay back on the sandsteamer. a swiss army knife, a random key, a used tissue (?), and...

a lighter? blow torch? i still cant tell what that last bar thing is tho. & i guess he had some kind of (normal) coin too? but Only One.

love the characterization implications for this lol. definitely the kind of pocket contents i'd expect from a silly immortal with a big coat

[wayfinderships]

The power has done out multiple times today😔 not the most ideal when it's been so hot lately-

[ciaossu-imagines]

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Katekyou Hitman Reborn! Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Gokudera Hayato/OC, Yamamoto Takeshi/OC, Reborn/Oc, Hibari Kyoya/OC Characters: Ten Years Later Sawada Tsunayoshi, Ten Years Later Gokudera Hayato, Ten Years Later Yamamoto Takeshi, Reborn (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Ten Years Later Lambo Bovino, Kusakabe Tetsuya, Rena Paolina (OC), Des McTavish (OC), Cat Dubois (OC), Martha Martinez (OC) Additional Tags: Comedy, Slice of Life, Suspense, Mystery, Major Original Character(s), Background Relationships Summary:

There's more to this cruise than meets the eye! - Various Vongola Family members gather together for a shared vacation on a cruise ship. They're all looking forward to some rest, relaxation, and shared time together, something adult life doesn't always allow them. Though they're hit with a surprise twist early on in the cruise, it's all fun and games...until it's not. Will the cast be able to solve the mystery of the ship?