#but also sort of not arcane critical

[scheherazades-vigil]

I *think* I understand what they were trying to do here. Disclaimer that I'm multiply disabled and blah blah so I'm inevitably biased in ways unknown to me, though presumably not the usual ones. Idk.

Basically, I think I get it, they just wild fumbled. I think this is due to the extremely erratic writing and— from the vibes I get, anyway —bc there are extremely good and extremely terrible writers in the room warring for dominance. Nah, more like the good ones trying to sneak shit in underneath the intended bulk of BS. I don't think the majority of s1 class warfare and oppression and police brutality were accidental or stumbled upon. I think they just deviously (mmm) talked people like Linke into it via horrible reasons to at least achieve smth of merit. Bear in mind this is a total guess; the vibes, ok? I mean, we already know stuff happened in the writing room before S2, and idk the extent of it, but it certainly seems to have made a giant difference. I'm not sure why else this mismatched MCU of a season even exists, otherwise (after said content of reasonable merit).

Anyway, my guess is still that there are some good ones sneaking things in, but even more inflated egos+writing changes made for greater difficulty in doing so? Such that the material got maimed, executed, burnt to ash, locked in separate lockboxes and scattered across the universe. SO MUCH is absolutely gross, don't get me wrong. But a lot of people have said it better than me already, s'why I'm not bothering.

Anyway, bear with me here cause cognitive impairment, developmental disabilities etc are catching up to me. Haven't even written in ages so gl me. I think they were going for smth like, "You are beautiful, and your unearned struggles do not define you, despite the horror of how they were forced upon you. I admire you for how you challenged that status quo and stood strong in the face of the oppression you should never have had to face. You're not just some 'Undercity cripple,' you are YOU and they could never take that from you. THAT is beautiful." Or smth. Ofc 90% of that would have to be improving subtext given the current text. But yeah, and then someone came in and went LOL BUT HE IS THO WE'LL BE GENEROUS AND FORGIVE HIS UNFORTUNATE EXISTENCE

I know this is high-key an absurd good faith argument, but like I said, vibes. Trust me I'm a really bad Janna main, ok? 😭😭 SHUT UP I'M TRYING TO FEEL BETTER lol

Sneaking back in to say I was partly inspired by the people sneaking in JayVik content and such, when Linke went to every length to no homo that. To the extent he revealed his complete obliviousness re acespec/arospec and it was gross.

Jayce's speech to Viktor was bad.

IMO

So, the final speech Jayce gave to Viktor about finding beauty in imperfection, and how our flaws make us human, that’s a fine sentiment but the specific examples he used ruined it. He used Viktors disease as an example.

Viktor was dying from a disease caused by Piltover mining in the fissures polluting the air. It was a preventable disease forced onto him by a corrupt system. He was slowly and painfully falling apart. “I can feel myself rotting” type stuff. Was he supposed to have appreciated that?

Jayce wants him to have appreciated the simple beauty of dying a slow painful death while your best friend is too busy being a councilman to be with you and your mentor is roadblocking your only possible cure. That was the imperfection that he was misguided to want to solve? The show is really saying Viktor was misguided, or not appreciative enough of being human, to not want to die young. He was giving up his humanity when he fought to live.

Viktor should not have just accepted it, that isn’t just part of being human. It isn’t a beautiful flaw you learn to love. He did nothing wrong by taking his life into his own hands and taking every possible chance to live. Even when no one believed in him.

I’m sure there are more charitable interpretations but that line really rubbed me the wrong way.

[chillinglikeashilling]

The weird thing about Ambessa and Caitlyn in S2 is I feel like everything that was actually portrayed about it reflects worse on Cait than Ambessa.

Caitlyn and Vi put a lot of the blame for Cait's actions on her listening to Ambessa against her better judgement, but we rarely see Cait argue against Ambessa or the Noxian soldier's actions.

We see her talking with Maddie about Ambessa pushing for more resources to be given for the occupation but when Maddie points out that Caitlyn has control here and can end the occupation, Cait is the one who argues why it should stay in place.

Vi said Ambessa was a 'war pig' whispering poison in Cait's ear but there is no rhetoric that we hear from Caitlyn about the occupation of Zaun that was she was not already saying before Ambessa decided to ally with her.

In fact we see Ambessa training her, offering her real advice about leadership, looking genuinely betrayed by Caitlyn's part in killing Rictus.

Ambessa seemed genuinely fond and proud of Caitlyn up until that point.

If it seems like I'm being harsher on Cait than I am on Ambessa- it's because I am. That's the burden of being the good guy, the person we are told by the show to hold to a standard.

Mel as a child raised in Noxus by Ambessa did a much better job challenging Ambessa and rejecting her world view than Cait did as a full grown woman.

The show tell us that the way Ambessa acts around Caitlyn is actually much more direct and honest than it is with any other person who is not from Noxus.

Ambessa is a war monger from the expansionist empire of War Mongers, she doesn't hide that from Cait while she's training her on how to win a war.

There's absolutely some level of social manipulation there but it's not like Cait ever learns that Ambessa is doing something behind her back. Ambessa is the one who's caught on the back foot for trusting Caitlyn.

Ambessa doesn't hide or deny that the Zaunites are brutalized, or that she wants to work with Singed. The Noxians in Zaun are legitimately trying to hunt down Jinx. Ambessa kept her promises to Cait.

[loveologystudies]

thinking about isat flight rising au.......

[vi-arcanes-left-biceps]

So... I wanted to write about the Caitlyn hate train because it's flooding my twt.

First I'd like to start by saying that you're entitled to dislike a character. Arcane is a work of art, but it's also just cartoons -whatever, just hate the cartoon character. I don't even like Caitlyn that much, mostly I find her arc very compelling.

But. The amount of hate and the shape it takes, for me, is very clearly influenced by a few factors.

With Caitlyn I feel like half of the folks are just regurgitating discourse they read before and try to earn internet morality/politics points while very much forgetting to touch grass. There is no"I don't like her", there is a sense of rightgeousness in disliking her that doesn't make much sense. "She's literally Hitler!" Please think. There are real life fascists and nazis over here. This is a cartoon who's the bad guy for like four and a half episodes.

There are interesting conversations to have about how Caitlyn's actions mirror real life oppression, as many also point out as a reason to hate her. It's fair that you dislike her those actions, to be honest. But 1) stories are not made to be morally perfect but to explore themes and emotions -characters will do bad, even evil things; 2) critical consumption of media exists; 3) using political language to hate on a fictional character with no real political critique/analysis behind makes me think you don't really believe that much what you're saying & you just want to use buzzwords you learned on the internet.

Takes like this are tinted with some sort of attempt to a moral high ground for disliking a fictional character for political reasons, while simultaneously refusing to understand the narrative of the character and think critically about what it is trying to say about real world politics.

To analyse a story you have to engage with it. See what it wants to tell you. See how it does it. See how it fails. You can dislike Caitlyn and tbh disliking her because of her role in the story is more than fair. But that doesn't equal media analysis. And I'm sorry but not liking a character doesn't make you more politically committed than the rest.

There are so many interesting things to say about Arcane's flawed portrayal of politics. How it uses the aesthetics of oppression to tell a story without deeply analysing the oppression itself within the narrative, how the context in which it was created and the beliefs held by its authors afect the portrayal of themes... Among all these, "Caitlyn is evil and irredeemable because we saw a montage of her and Vi doing police violence" is a very superficial take. Please, please, pleeease analyse those montages frame by frame and discuss how they showcase police violence, what bias they have, what purpose it serves. Analyse how it takes from real life events in a way that is insensitive. I'd love it sooo much to see posts like this.

On the other side, I've seen people say both that say Caitlyn is evil because of the acts she commits and then say that Silco is a revolutionaire. What? Silco WAS a revolutionaire, and he still had a motivation to make Zaun free, but his motivations do not match his actions and that's pretty obvious. "Sometimes revolution requires violent resistance" = "Silco is a revolution hero" showcases a very shallow level understanding of the first phrase there. Silco flooded the streets of Zaun with drugs. The Firelights were born out of willingness to defend zaunites from Silco and Jinx. Silco did not do violent resistance against Piltover, not since the rebellion he had led with Vander. He tried to invent shimmer as a weapon to fight again and the only thing he managed is to make many people misserable and dependent on it -and he didn't care. His character and his actions are quite more complicated than "he's doing everything for revolution"; but again, another character reduced to a catchphrase that fails to actually engage with his story. Only difference between these people's opinions on Silco and Caitlyn is that Silco's character has the word "revolution" near in the script and Caitlyn's script includes "cop".

Another thing is, why hate Caitlyn so much and not say a single thing about Ambessa? I can think of a few reasons but I'll summarise like this:

1) Not being aware that Ambessa is always the one calling the shots here even if Caitlyn is given the title of Commander. Even though the show is very much making this clear.

2) Because Caitlyn gets a redemption and Ambessa gets "punished" aka is a villain and dies. As if humans where not more complex than good and evil.

3) Caitlyn's more popular than Ambessa I guess? It's always more fun to hate on the popular character. Also she's a main character so she'd obviously get more more attention.

3) Some people just want women to be perfectly moral all the time, and in wlw relationships even more. I didn't want to bring up fandom misoginy & lesbophobia but I can tell if it was Jayce having her narrative and redemption the discourse would be quite different.

Anyway. Acab and long live critical thinking. I guess I just want to say please send some nuanced Caitlyn takes my way because I'd really love to read those.

[srslylini]

I always hated this "nuance" talk about certain things and for a LONG time I couldn't figure out why I did. Because it isn't wrong, people are nuanced.

And that's it, isn't it? People are nuanced. People.

So here is where I disagree with what might make others raise a brow or two. Situations aren't nuanced. There is good situations, and there is bad situations. There is no other option there. What people cry about, and call nuance, doesn't come from the situation but from the individual person and their CHOICE.

And then there is also how bad and fucked the situation is. For example:

Murder is bad.

That stands as a situation, murder is ALWAYS bad, so why did a person choose to do it? That's where nuance comes into play. Did they do it just because? Or to defend themselves? Or maybe even another reason. Those options, those choices, do not change that murder is bad. They just give insight on why it happened and I hold the very strong opinion THAT is where the actual nuance comes from.

Helping a person who needs help is good.

The nuance here also comes from the individual. Why did they help? Out of the goodness of their heart? Or maybe because of gaining views on tik tok? Well neither of those choices and options changes that helping someone who needs help is good, it just tells us who the person choosing IS and why they do the shit they do.

Sometimes there is even more nuance an individual can bring to a situation, sometimes there is less, it always depends on HOW fucked up a situation is and how much weight it carries.

And oppression, well I'd say the only nuance an individual brings to the table is the nuance of their choice. Maybe there is an EXPLANATION for their choice but the choice doesn't change the nasty shit oppression does. So Caitlyn's only nuance is choosing. The explanation is grief, yes. But that doesn't change her choice.

Anyways yeah, just wanted to add that. Maybe I'm totally wrong or maybe some of you will vehemently disagree.

Stealing this from my Twitter too. One of the worst things about the Arcane fandom is that it’s impossible to criticize a character’s actions without people jumping down your throat ranting about “morally gray” and “but this character was in the wrong too!”

Girl idgaf!!! I shouldn’t have to bring up “not everything is black and white” and “character complexity” before I try to criticize a character’s actions! Oh my goodness you can’t “but nuance!” your way out of everything! Obviously I understand the situation and characters are full of nuance! That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be allowed to criticize them! It’s possible to understand something and still dislike it. Stop being so condescending and acting like I don’t understand a character just cause I don’t like them. It’s precisely BECAUSE I understand them that I don’t like them.

To continue this tryna be like “well everyone was in the wrong!” falls flat for two reasons. One, the system of inequality that Piltover set up means that there is a fundamental difference between the wrongs of Piltover and the wrongs of Zaun. Trying to put them on the same level makes 0 sense. There are different levels to being wrong, so yes I have more sympathy for the oppressed characters than I do for the characters who are responsible for perpetuating that oppression in the first place. And for two, idc what the other characters did. I’m talking about one character, bringing up another one and trying to move the goal post does not help your point. I see this most often whenever people try to criticize Caitlyn or explain why they dislike her. It’s always “But Jinx did this!” “Ambessa manipulated her!” “But Vi said/did this too!” “Silco was doing this!” Girl idgaf!!! I don’t care what they did or didn’t do! If I’m criticizing one character for their shitty actions, I don’t need you to put on a cape and try to defend your fave by dragging all the other characters into it(and purposely misunderstanding their actions to try to make your point, I might add). Just accept the criticism and go, ugh 🙄🙄🙄

[avelera]

hi! first off, i love your arcane meta, especially the jayce characterization and hextech details. you get it.

now second, (and feel free to ignore this wall of text for any reason):

if you're in the mood to talk about meta, i'm curious to hear your take on one season 2 thing that i've been scratching my head about

how much does post-anomaly jayce know about the future? my initial impression was that wizard viktor only told jayce what we see onscreen, and jayce was kind of improvising and trying his best without detailed knowledge of future events.

but some lines ("we're meant to lose this fight") and a comment from the artbook (post-anomaly jayce wearing armor bc he knows there is a battle coming) imply that he knows more than he lets on.

what's your (watsonian) take of jayce's knowledge of the future in season 2? is there any detail in the show that sheds some light on this?

i think jayce knowing or not knowing about certain events really recontextualises some scenes. is he following his own or wizard viktors plans? is he suprised about the events of act 3? i've been rotating this in my head but i'm not sure what interpretation i prefer.

Thank you so much!

As for your question, it's a really interesting one!

Unfortunately, I do think I need to start the answer with the Doylist one:

Jayce knows as much about the future as he needs to for the plot.

I think this is important to note because it informs an understanding of their choice not to show us him getting an exposition download of everything Wizard Viktor has worked out over the years as to how exactly Jayce can thread this needle of saving Viktor at exactly the right time.

Because, in theory, the amount of optimization could be infinite. It could get all the way down to, "Jayce needs to be scared into falling into this exact pit and spending no more than 3 months there because that gives him the suffering needed for his plea to Viktor to be heartfelt and informed by similar suffering, but not so long that Jayce goes insane from isolation."

Or even things like, "Ekko needs to go to the Happy Zaun universe or else he won't have the sympathy needed for him to prevent Jinx's suicide and without her present at the battle, one of Herald Viktor's mind-control arms snatches up Ekko too soon rather than grabbing Jinx instead, so he's not there to buy Jayce's those critical extra seconds for his appeal to True Love and also put a bomb in Herald Viktor's face."

That said....

I admit, part of me still sort of wishes that Jayce had been the one to go through multiple realities of optimizing, just because I think it answers... a few more questions? Like how did he suddenly get so comfortable with killing someone like Salo, if he wasn't fighting in other universes? Why does he look so aged if only 3-6 months passed? How does he know things like how exactly to get to Viktor's commune and the fact they're going to lose the fight, etc etc etc.?"

I think it would have been cool and very fitting for Jayce but I will admit, the story we got covers all of this too.

Jayce's aging could easily be the product of extreme hardship (I wouldn't be surprised if the animators referred to images of people who have been, say, stranded on desert islands or prisoners of war for long periods to inform just how much Jayce's face muscles wasted away while he was there and just how much extreme hardship can age you because it can be extreme even within a few months and between pain, starvation, dehydration, and magical gangrene, Jayce was going through it).

Jayce's comfort with the idea of killing Salo could just be a product of his hardship (killing and eating lizards with his bare hands lol yuck), or of understanding that assimilated people are already dead, effectively, and to stop that future he cannot hesitate at all. Also, maybe he just fucking hates that guy, which would be pretty understandable after Salo voted to banish him back in 1.02 and also is very funny to me, personally, that he was just a little more comfortable smooshing that particular Councilor than he would be literally anyone else.

And this is were I get to your question: how much does Jayce know? Presumably, if we go Watsonian, whatever Wizard Viktor believed he needed to know to actually thread this needle, because there's probably information he doesn't need to know too.

For example, Jayce might know:

He cannot let a Cultist get back to Viktor with Hexgems. Salo needs to go. Who knows what this prevented but I can easily see how Viktor having more power right now to prolong his healing/assimilation would be a bad thing regardless. Also just... having Salo at all as a potential power player that Viktor could work through.

He knows where the commune is. In theory, he probably could just ask someone in Zaun too I mean, I doubt it's a secret, and narratively we don't need to see that.

He knows he cannot under any circumstances let Viktor talk to him once they're face to face. He can't even look at Viktor after Viktor knows he's there. There's a heavy implication that if Cult Leader Viktor so much as smiles at him, Jayce will fold, if we believe the little flash of memory of Jayce remembering him smiling at him isn't just Dead Wive Vision but is actually Anomaly Future Jayce warning him about what happened to him to lead t that point, which I think is a baller theory.

He can't give into Viktor, ever. He can't let Viktor touch his forehead before the right time. Jayce fights like mad to get away from that robot once Viktor decides that Jayce will be his partner again or else.

He knows he needs to take all the Hexgems out of the base of the Hexgate, but is it to stop Viktor? Or is to buy a few extra seconds while Viktor plugs them back in again so that Ekko has time to wake up? This is the sort of thing where Wizard Viktor might know the real reason for something but doesn't need to get that granular with why because it's about buying time, not actually preventing the Herald from grabbing the Anomaly.

By the way, I have a theory that one reason Jayce needs to get the gem burned into his wrist is because there's universes where his bracelet gets cut off and he loses the gem so Wizard Viktor is like, "This is gonna suck, but you really need this thing embedded in your flesh so it's there at the right time." Though, it could also be so he can engage the magic in his Alt Universe hammer. Still, I am a little sad that it's not an effect of Jayce universe hopping where some battle got it burned into him, because that was my original theory and I'm still very partial to it.

Jayce knows that he has no chance of winning the fight, he just needs to survive it. Once he gets to the top of the tower, once he grasps the hammer, it's all over. From that point on, the only thing he can do is have faith and get his big Power of Love speech ready, that is his only chance.

As for what Jayce is surprised by, I do think he might have been told information but not shown it necessarily. I am still really sad we didn't get a visual of what Wizard Viktor told him but, at the same time, one of the fun parts of Arcane is that it doesn't spoon-feed us, which gives us the chance for discussions like this, so wanting that scene is me being a Jayce addict not because I think it would necessarily strengthen the story.

So I think Jayce doesn't know what Machine Herald Viktor looks like. It's possible that Wizard Viktor doesn't either, because that didn't happen to Wizard Viktor, he didn't get slowed down at the commune, Jayce probably joined him there and probably didn't fight him at all, there's a strong hint that Anomaly Universe Jayce surrendered to Viktor at the top of the tower (the explosion marks around him are behind him, which implies that the force of his conversion might have been in front and willing, like he was kneeling before his king, and we don't have the top of his head to know which direction the fingerprints are positioned in).

So basically, Machine Herald Viktor is a product of Viktor needing Singed to regain enough power to go get the Anomaly, which Wizard Viktor didn't need to do.

It's possible that Wizard Viktor doesn't know about Ekko, he just knows that something outside his awareness has to happen for MH Viktor to be caught off guard, and as MH Viktor says, "That device cannot be," he cannot in his infinite knowledge account for what happens in a world where Hextech never got beyond its infancy with Jayce and Viktor at the helm.

So, at a certain point, there may have been things that Jayce and Wizard Viktor just had to rely on faith to come about too.

But it's way more fun to speculate because I think we'd be punching holes in it instead of speculating on it if we had been given this whole download.

Hope that answers your question??

[eternalwanderer-stories]

Perhaps this is an unpopular opinion, but still.

Many are afraid that the second season will not meet their expectations. It's logical that the authors won't follow what the fans want. I know the rules of this game well: you don't build any expectations – you don't end up with any disappointments. But despite this, I myself have two expectations – the interaction of Viktor and Jinx (seriously, Vi and Jayce got a whole scene with a cool soundtrack in the first season, and my beloved babygirl and my beloved boy did not get any scenes together, where is justice?) and scenes where Viktor would work on creating a Blitzcrank (I want it so much, you can't even imagine). But judging by the trailer that came out, I'm unlikely to get any of this.

But actually, more than all this, I'm afraid that the authors will just confirm some of the ideas of the fans. You know, those same ideas, similar to tropes from fanfiction like: Silco suddenly rises from the dead, Ekko begins to travel through time and in parallel universes because everyone eventually died and he tries to turn back time, Vander is actually the real father of Vi and Jinx and by the power of his daughters' love from Warwick turns back into human again, Victor resurrects Skye, and Jinx and Ekko arrange a lavish wedding in the end, everyone lived together and happily as one big family and all that sort of thing.

Is it cool in fan fiction? Yes, why not, that's what they're made for.

Is it cool in the show? I do not think so.

Arcane in the first season maintains a very good tone and a very good narrative atmosphere. It would be a shame if this tone suddenly changed unexpectedly in the second season.

I don't want Arcane to repeat Voltron's fate. Whoever was or is still in Voltron's fandom understands what I'm talking about. For those who do not know, I will tell you briefly: Voltron: Legendary Defender was released in 2016 and immediately fell in love with a huge number of people, receiving an unprecedented number of laudatory reviews. Cool characters, an interesting and well-developed plot, the series instantly became an audience favorite (it was not elevated to the rank of masterpieces, like Arcane, but it was very close to it). Almost everyone heard about him, talked about him, wrote about him, praised him. However, closer to the final season, everything changed. And then there was a leak (a familiar situation, right?) – footage of some plot twists from the final season has been leaked to the Internet. Not as big as Arcane's, but critical for those who didn't want to know in advance how it would end. Most of them, of course, refused to watch them. But there were also those who looked, and they instantly turned into those annoying people who whined all the time about how bad everything was going to be. And then the final season came out and it was very bad. A number of absolutely catastrophic decisions that the screenwriters made were more like it was written either in a drunken delirium, or the creators sat all night and read fan fiction on the Wattpad, drawing ideas from there. The characters' characters were strange, their actions were illogical, the whole narrative was madly in a hurry, on the contrary it was too long where it was not required, attention was not paid to really important storylines – simply put, there was no trace of the good early seasons, and the ending absolutely did not work as it should. Comparing the initial seasons and the final one, it was hard to imagine that this was the same series, it differed so much in quality (although, to be fair, there are many who accepted all this and liked it – no kidding, I'm glad for you, but I remember too vividly how much I was disappointed).

So, I don't want Arcane to go the same way. There is SO MUCH going on in the new trailer that the question comes to mind by itself – how can you adequately fit all this into 9 episodes? Maybe it's really just pointless and stupid worries, but the first season was so good that it's doubly scary now.

I don't want the story to suddenly turn into fanfiction in Wattpad.

(I remind you that this is a leak-free zone. Please, if you have watched the leaks, no need to spoiler in the comments or in reblogs).

[brain-depositary]

Okay, here are Arcane spoilers for Act 2. I have thoughts on Viktor, as there's been a lot of back and forth over whether what we're seeing is really him or if he is being controlled by the hexcore/arcane. And people are missing the narrative explanations, which seem to make what happened really obvious. And the biggest sign of this is that Viktor has been hallucinating Sky the whole time. The man has clearly lost his marbles.

The show is very clear that Sky is not there physically, but she's also absolutely not there mentally, spiritually, magically, whathaveyou. Her ghost isn't in the hexcore or whatever. There's simply no way.

It's not that we know for sure there are no ghosts in the world of Arcane. It hasn't been proven one way or the other that they exist. All sorts of fantastical things exist in Arcane and maybe ghosts do, too. But we know Sky isn't one because it makes no narrative sense for her to be.

Thematically, all of Arcane has been about people handling grief and loss not just poorly, but destructively. Powder hallucinates the people she's lost as critical voices and behaves erratically and dangerously whenever they do. Both Vander and Silco twist Vi and Powder's mother's dreams of peace into more violence and oppression. Jayce can't deal with the loss of Viktor and uses the hexcore to save him which Viktor specifically told him to destroy. Caitlyn becomes a dictator after her mother's death and uses the ventilation system her mother created against the very people it was intended to help. Ambessa has gone on a rampage for her dead son who preferred bloodless subterfuge, and I have a feeling Singed's daughter would approve of all the things her father is trying to do to bring her back, had she ever had the chance to know.

But Viktor, after losing Sky and her dreams, just kind of gets her back, and fulfills them? Yeah, no, I'm calling bullshit. Viktor is not going to be the only one exempt from the Arcane pain train. This would be bad writing.

Sky isn't a ghost here. She's gone. The version of her in the hexcore is purely a product of Viktor's imagination. We don't see Sky a lot, but what little we do, she's different, much more confident. It's not her. Viktor is handling his loss badly, too, but his method of doing so is just wholesale denying that it happened. Sky isn't dead, she's right there. Her dreams aren't gone, they're perfectly within reach. It doesn't matter if he dies now because he's succeeded in his goals of helping people. The sick are healed, the hungry are fed. The commune is thriving. Everything is great.

With whatever power he gained from the hexcore, he's able to project this denial onto the real world, at least for a little while. Everything in his little bubble DOES seem great, but the cracks in the facade come early. When Salo talks to Jayce in the overflow chamber, Jayce's breath condenses, while Salo's does not, implying that he's not breathing. Also, Salo's turnover at the commune is disturbingly quick -- his original personality just does not seem to be there anymore, despite his insistence otherwise. The "no weapons" rule, while idealistic, cannot realistically be enforced -- as much as Viktor denied, reality was going to come crashing in and he was going to be unprepared for it, because he just decided he didn't have to be. Huck didn't even seem afraid at all denying a heavily armed warlord and her contingent entry without disarming first when literally his only character trait has been being cowardly. There's nothing in him anymore.

So, is Viktor being mind controlled, or is this the same Viktor we've known the whole time? Well, it's not really either. This is Viktor snapping and having a mental breakdown. This is Viktor's equivalent of Jinx's tea party at the end of season 1, except he has far more power to make it last longer, seem nicer, and drag far more people into it. Probably, the hexcore is taking advantage of Viktor's vision to build its hivemind, but the vision itself is all Viktor.

So, given all this, my prediction is: Viktor will be salvaged and revived by Singed. He will get a reality check, that Sky is really gone, that the people he healed are hollowed-out husks, that the peace he created was too fragile to last -- and he won't care, he will try to get it back by any means necessary, even if he doesn't have the arcane abilities or ability to completely deny reality that he used to have. And this will create a bitter person, similar to the character we know as the Machine Herald from League of Legends.

[cesarescabinet]

Ooh, that's also a good idea! God, I had such high hopes after the song dropped--then the actual scene played out (also can it even be considered Viktor's song at this point? Half if it is dedicated to Warwick, even though he got multiple songs!)

Man, would I have loved seeing Viktor's reaction when finding out that the strike-team gassed Zaun with the same poison that caused his terminal-disease...

[acesw]

Knowing our Arcanists 11: Зима

Welcome to entry eleven of my series: "Knowing our Arcanists"! This is a series in which I introduce and tell the stories of our fellow characters in Reverse: 1999. For today's character we will be seeing: Зима!

Ah so if we have Tennant for the yuri beam then we have Зима for the yaoi beam. He's also one of the characters we're initially introduced to early in the game, and he also has a generally short story. Lets get started.

Зима is a Russian arcanist who was born on April 28th and was active during the early 20th century. He lived in Russia prior to being taken into the Foundation during his exile. His arcane skill involves the composition of poetry as well as the ability to communicate with the wildlife around him.

A quiet man, he is a poet who actively wrote during the 1910s during the era of the Russian Empire. His poems were popular among the masses and the nobles, receiving a great amount of critical acclaim.

However, his popularity met an end once Зима had been exiled after supposedly writing a poem that went against the Tsar's interests. In the island Зима arrived in, he had initially been with many other prisoners like him.

There, they endured many cold days and nights, and Зима had witnessed death firsthand as prisoners died one by one.

Yet he continued to write. Once running out of paper, he began writing on the environment around him. Snow, wood, stone, any sort of surface.

He endlessly wrote poems that allowed him to reflect as well as his journey on the island. Зима didn't write any sort of political poem, but merely just poems that were about life and himself.

On a cold day, he encounters a chickadee who lived on the island. Naming it as "Зима," the two had formed a companionship throughout this exile.

Over time, he began to communicate with more animals. All animals who were once enemies became his friends, and he eventually felt content and safe with living alone in this cold environment.

At some point, the Foundation had found the penal colony as well as encountering Зима during their evaluation of the area. During this investigation, he had done measures to hide away from the Foundation workers before being eventually being found and interviewed by them. Зима was invited to the Foundation, in which he accepted after some thought about the future ahead of him.

After joining the Foundation, he was assigned to Team Timekeeper after some time, and currently resides in the suitcase.

Зима is a humble but socially inept person. He can be described to as being very quiet and closed off, and often takes the time to avoid interacting with people as much as possible. He even finds it easier to talk to the animals around him considering his ability.

However, he's also politically active and has been outspoken against the Tsar and his actions. Every now and then, he picks up on the news coming from the mainland from the birds who travel to the island.

Зима's passion for poetry can't be doubted. He writes constantly when the ideas comes to him, and will do what it takes to write down his thoughts. He enjoys writing at night and when he's alone.

His poetry grew to become an outlet for his emotions and thoughts about his life and the world around him. Interpreted and loved by many who read them, the ultimate truth comes to when he talks of himself and his experiences. Зима writes not for satisfaction, but to entail his life and reflect on the humanity of the world with words unspoken.

They light a bonfire, Crackling, flickering, And before the fire leaves their eyes, they sing, What did you see? The rocks did not reply, But a young voice says, "Humanity."

-Poem excerpt, Зима's anecdote

[stebeans]

Arcane F1AU

Warning: explicit sex, g!p caitlyn [has a penis]

The supermodel "lip lock" that is alluded to in Part 1 that had the blonde award-winning actress all jealous and riled up. So pretty much filth - pt 2, make sure you check out pt 1 - link below

This is also a psa that Caitlyn Kiramman, heir to the Kiramman House, '25 world driver champion, is THE ultimate dork to ever dork in Runeterra. And she still gets the girl(s).

She's a Lady Killer - Part 2

The Supermodel - Three months ago

Coming off the Noxus race weekend of the '25 season, a podium finish (first place to be exact) and therefore securing the driver's world champion, Caitlyn was feeling high, her heart thumping and energy just bubbling underneath her skin at all the adrenaline that had yet to wear off.

Her and the team of joyous Hextech Petronas found themselves in a recently opened club in Noxus to celebrate the win and the driver. She had been pulled unwillingly to the dance floor by Jayce but as soon as an old school number blared out of the speakers the two caught each other's eye and without a single word they began the first few steps of a choreographed dance routine they had created in their much younger years. They immediately garnered the attention of almost every occupant in the club, whoops of encouragement and amused chuckles filling the club.

Mel, shook her head, lips turning up with mirth as she lifted a glass of red wine at their theatrical dance moves. Only those two would be able to pull off a dorky dance routine from the early 2000's and make it look somewhat decent and not only that, their infectious dance had kickstarted some sort of dance off. She silently hoped the camera crew caught that on tape. Sure the young Kiramman's pride might take a hit when she's a little more sober and less high on adrenaline but Mel was willing to pay a pretty penny for that film. She wouldn't be the shrewd business woman that she was today if she didn't have some sort of...incentive hidden up her sleeves.

The two goobers on the dance floor twirled, twisted and robot-ed themselves on the dance floor, their laughter mixing in the music that filled the club. A mistimed move had Jayce nearly face planting and Caitlyn laughed. "You're mixing up the moves!"

"Nu-uh!" Jayce recovered as smooth as one can after finishing of an entire bottle of champagne. "You're the one off-beat!"

Blue eyes immediately narrowed as Caitlyn let out a scoff, affronted by the accusation. Jayce nearly died from laughter at her look. Caitlyn who looked downright pissed for criticizing her dance moves from decades ago than when the race stewards had bestowed her with a 10-place grid penalty prior to the race. It was only due to Caitlyn's sheer grit and determination that they had managed the win, the driver weaving and cutting through the mid-field to somehow claw her way to P1 like some unhinged mongoose. "Oh god!" Jayce guffawed, wiping away tears from his eyes. "Your face right now. If looks could kill."

Rolling her eyes, Caitlyn playfully slapped Jayce on the chest with the back of her hand. "Shut up." She said half-heartedly, a grin fighting to make its way across her features.

The song winded down and the crowd hollered and broke out into an applause at their impromptu dance routine. Jayce and Caitlyn blushed, both raising a hand in acknowledgment as they realized the scene they had caused. "Not bad Kiramman. Can't believe you still remember the routine. How did we even come up with those moves?"

Caitlyn shook her head, letting out a soft chuckle. "I was eight, what's your excuse?'

The two caught each other's eyes once more and they broke into another round of laughter. "Touché."

The DJ spun the record and smoothly transitioned into the next song, a sensual voice from one of the latest hot hits took over the speakers.

"Impressive moves." A tall dark skinned woman commented, a couple equally beautiful women trailing close behind her. "Mind if we cut in?" She asked Jayce but the woman barely waited for an answer before settling her arms around Caitlyn's neck. Brows shot nearly to her hairline as Caitlyn caught Jayce's mirroring look from over the woman's shoulder. Amused, Jayce gestured towards Caitlyn with a flourish. "She's all yours ladies."

Shaking his head the whole way back, Jayce weaved his way around bodies towards the table claimed by the Hextech Petronas team. "Damn," he sulked, as he dropped into the booth next to Mel. "I don't know how she does that."

Mel lifted a perfectly shaped brow and Jayce jerked his head towards Caitlyn and to both of their amusement the world champion was now being grinded on by the trio of women as the music picked up. "Were we dancing the same dance?" He asked incredulously and Mel couldn't help but huff out a laugh, patting Jayce's forearm reassuringly.

"I don't think it was just the dance that caught their eye, dear."

One of the pit crew member refilled a handful of glasses and passed one over to Jayce. "Which one of those women do you think Caitlyn's taking home with her tonight?"

"What makes you think it'll just be the one?" Another chimed in.

Jayce wrinkled his nose. That was like...his little sister they were wagering about. "That one pressed right against the front of her seems to be the winner." One of the guys commented.

"No, I don't quite think so." Mel said, her eyes trailing to a woman seated at the bar who Mel had noted had been locked in the second Caitlyn had joined the dance floor. "I think we may have a new challenger."

Thankfully, Mel had clocked the film crew packing up and leaving the establishment just moments after the impromptu dance routine ended, delightfully satisfied with what they were able to capture on camera for the night. While Mel was sure many viewers were going to be surprised about the dorky side of the famed Caitlyn Kiramman, she wasn't so sure their hearts would be ready when things got down and dirty.

Jayce followed Mel's line of sight, jaw dropping open as he recognized the woman almost immediately, seeing as she was on the cover of almost every damn magazine in all of Runeterra. "Damn, isn't that–"

The entire table fell into silence, now too invested and entertained to politely turn away. They needed to see how the scene would play out for their star driver.

Back on the dance floor, surprised yet pleased by the sudden turn of events, Caitlyn had quickly settled her hands on the flared hips of the dark skinned woman in front of her, hips moving along with the beat, quickly falling into rhythm with the women around her. She felt curious hands on her waist as well, slipping underneath the hem of her dress shirt to press against warm, smooth skin, while a pair of firm breasts pressed against the side of her arm, the third woman and the last of the trio was certainly not to be outdone.

They danced and grinded along one another until the song ended. Adrenaline still thrumming in her veins from the race win and being declared, excuse her French, the fucking world champion driver for '24 season, there really was only one way the night was going to end. Caitlyn was about to lean forward and ask if they had any plans for the rest of the night, when she felt the woman in front of her stiffen, taking a small step backwards, the other two following suit right after.

Caitlyn was rightfully confused until an alluring voice cut through the music. "Any chance you have room on your dance card for me?" Twisting to face the newcomer, Caitlyn's eyes widened at the woman before her, recognizing the woman in a heartbeat.

Long wavy red hair gleamed underneath the strobing lights, perfect porcelain white skin that was flawless that even makeup couldn't enhance, bright mischievous green eyes and a sultry grin. The natural beauty paired with the silky short emerald green number and strappy heels, had Caitlyn throat bobbing tightly. She barely registered the women she had been dancing with had made a silent retreat in the face of the stunning supermodel.

"Miss Conners." Caitlyn forced out, swallowing dryly as she attempted to regain her composure, the newcomer certainly didn't need an introduction. Even if one weren't caught up in the exaggerated gossip of celebrity "news", it was pretty much impossible to step foot in any establishment - cafes, bookstores, gas stations, even grocery store aisles - without recognizing the cover page beauty. Hell, Caitlyn swore she had a magazine sitting atop of one of the furnished tables in her hotel room with this woman's face and scantily clad body adorning the cover.

Caitlyn shook herself into motion. Who knew how long she had been staring dumbly. "Of course." Caitlyn held out a hand, which the supermodel accepted with a grin that showed off her cute dimples. Downright sexy and cute. Fuck. Caitlyn was screwed. "Lucky for me, it appears I'm in need of a dance partner."

"I hear congratulations are in order." The woman shouted into Caitlyn's ear in order to be heard over the thumping bass, hips swaying to the music with ease. "Can't say I've ever had the pleasure of meeting a champion driver before."

"I'm honored I can be your first."

"I'm interested to know if the rumors are true or just mere fabrication to fuel inflated egos for you frail motorsport drivers."

Caitlyn brow rose in surprise, a chuckle escaping through her lips, taken aback yet intrigued. "Oh yeah? What might these rumors entail?"

A wandering finger trailed along Caitlyn's jaw scratching softly against her neck before settling lower to where her chest was exposed where the top few buttons of her her shirt was left undone, the warm hand resting comfortably between her breasts.

"Stamina for one. Heard that you drivers train under harsh environment, pushing your bodies to go beyond what is considered humanly possible."

"Very true." Caitlyn attested. "It's a demanding sport that requires demanding training." Her lips turning up in amusement when the supermodel's other hand began roaming across her shoulders, down her arms to grip and squeeze tight biceps before inching lower to perch against her toned abs that could be felt even with her shirt on.

"It appears the rumors of drivers being in top shape is also true." The model remarked, eyes glinting at the way Caitlyn's muscles clenched underneath her gentle touch. "And how about reaction time? Split second decisions that could literally lead to life or death – very daring. How would you grade your reaction time, Miss Kiramman?"

Barely suppressing the growl in her throat, Caitlyn pulled the supermodel flush against her, where she was certain the model could feel her hardness twitch within the confines of her pants. "I don't know. You tell me." She punctuated with a slight thrust, feeling her fully hardened member pulse against the thin silken dress.

Green eyes darkened with lust, pupils dilated with need matching what Caitlyn surmised was reflected in her own. The thrumming of adrenaline very much pumping through her veins from her race win and now clouded with sinful lust.

"Even better yet. Why don't I show you what it takes to be a champion driver? Give you a hands on demonstration?" Caitlyn, murmured with another forceful push against the supermodel, watching the woman's eyes flutter at the movements, pressing herself closer so that Caitlyn's bulge rubbed against the perfect spot.

"Is that a promise Champ?" The supermodel eyes twinkled underneath the lights, before planting a kiss filled with desire and playfulness, both ignorant to the flash of an amateur paparazzo.

Unbeknownst to them, the grainy, far too zoomed-in picture would headline many gossip rags for the next month.

Later that night - The Hotel

Sweat rolled down her forehead, her collarbones glistening with slight perspiration as her hips continued to roll deeply into the woman beneath her. A low sensual moan escaped the redhead's perfectly plump lips as she was filled fully and thoroughly, reinvigorating Caitlyn as she pumped roughly until a scream of pleasure was ripped from the woman's throat. "Fuuuuuuck, yessssss! Harder baby. Harder. You're fucking me so damn good."

Caitlyn leaned over the smooth pale skin, gathering a handful of the luscious red locks and twisting it just hard enough to draw out a pleased whimper. Nipping at the back of the model's neck, Caitlyn pressed harder and deeper into the woman, feeling warm, wet walls flutter against her hardness. "One more. Give me one more." Caitlyn demanded, the quivering of the woman's cunt increasing in frequency and intensity that Caitlyn couldn't help but choke out a moan at the sudden tightness.

Angling her hips, she felt the model squeeze even tighter around her as the new angle had Caitlyn pounding insistently against the soft spongy spot within the model's molten hot pussy. "Shit. I'm cum-. Ah fuck I'm cumming!" The model screamed out, a flood of fluids rushing out and nearly pushing Caitlyn out from within her depths.

Caitlyn groaned, the rhythmic pulsing and wetness of the model's orgasm had forcefully pulled Caitlyn closer to the edge. Ignoring the tightening of the model's pussy, Caitlyn pushed through the stubborn walls, her hefty girth and length slicing through the woman's cunt like hot butter. She pulled out on a tide of wetness and in the far reaches of Caitlyn's sex induced mind she vaguely realized she was making the supermodel beneath her fucking squirt. Fuck she needed to do that again.

Pushing back in, Caitlyn felt the head of her cock push up against the model's cervix – end of the line – before slowly retracting, the blunt head of her cock catching against the women's g-spot on the way out before another rush of fluids rushed out against her. "CAITLYN!" The model screamed out, hoarse now from hours from the absolute record-breaking fucking she's ever had, an unsuspecting orgasm just after the heights of the last one had her eyes rolling to the back of her head and toes curling as pleasure washed over for what had to be the seventh time that night.

"Shit!" Caitlyn cursed, feeling her balls tighten quicker than anticipated.

Luckily, the powerful pressure behind the model's squirting had forced Caitlyn's cock outside of the redhead's cunt and Caitlyn quickly directed her cock over the smooth expanse of the model's back as she emptied a thick massive load of cum onto the woman. Unfortunately they had ran out of condoms a couple rounds ago but neither wanted to stop for the night. "Fuck you're perfect." Caitlyn huffed, gasping for breath through the blood thundering behind her ears, her cock twitching every now and than as she emptied everything she had.

A moment passed as the two caught their breath, the woman beneath Caitlyn was completely wrecked and boneless. Caitlyn hadn't even realized when the model had collapsed from her doggy style position, instead just lying prone as Caitlyn rutted into her like a mindless beast. Must've happened between the fifth or sixth orgasm she had pulled from the model.

Reaching over to the hand towel draped carelessly on the night stand, Caitlyn began wiping her mess from the model's back. "Are you okay?" Caitlyn murmured, pressing a soft kiss onto the woman's shoulder. "It was a little intense there at the end."

The model laughed lightly. "Just the end?" She quipped before turning over onto her back and wrapping her arms around Caitlyn's neck to pull the driver into a deep kiss, ignoring the distant soreness throbbing between her legs from the marathon fucking. Yeah, she was definitely going to be walking funny for at least a week.

Caitlyn grinned into the kiss, opening her mouth slightly and feeling the redhead immediately lick into her mouth with vigor.

They made out for a moment longer before the need for air forced them to separate. "You're insatiable." Caitlyn said, settling onto her hunches, feeling her slowly softening member twitch in anticipation.

"That's my line."

Hungry blue eyes roamed the expanse of the woman below. From the heaving of her chest, perfect firm breasts rising and falling with each breath, toned stomach and the neatly trimmed triangle of red curls, and as her eyes travelled lower Caitlyn failed to suppress her groan. The model's pussy looked truly and absolutely used. Red and puffy from Caitlyn's rough fucking and delightfully glistening from the woman's earlier orgasms. Her hole gaped wide and clenched, now that it was no longer filled. Honestly, the sight before her was made of dreams.

Subconsciously, Caitlyn reached out with her fingers, gently prodding and gathering the slickness around the model's folds, watching as the model's pussy squeeze in response as she played with her clit before slipping her wet digits back into heat. "Seriously?" The model admonished, taken aback by the woman's stamina and insatiable appetite despite her earlier teasing.

"Once more." Caitlyn promised, taking hold of her already hardened cock, long and wonderfully girthy.

"Now where did I hear that before?" The model teased but found herself spreading her legs regardless, slick flowing easily from her pussy, dripping down to join the mess beneath her from their last handful of rounds.

Caitlyn looked up from where she was eyeing her warmth, blue mischievous eyes meeting the model's. "If I'm not mistaken. I had promised earlier to show you what being a world champion driver entailed." Caitlyn grinned, lining up the head of her cock against the model's opening before pushing forward in one smooth motion until she was seated deeply, eliciting a pleasured whine. "And I repeat, I'm honored to be your first."

Previously:

She's a Lady Killer - Part 1 (The actress)

https://www.tumblr.com/stebeans/770640335450849280/arcane-f1au?source=share

F1AU (Vi's pov) - there's racing, some crashes and a fight

https://www.tumblr.com/stebeans/770896681209397248/arcane-f1au?source=share

[weaselandfriends]

Are ARGs the new avant garde?

There's this unfiction ARG on YouTube about a fake video game called Valle Verde. Here's episode 1, there are three episodes:

Watch this and the other two episodes. This is the most technically impressive thing I've seen on YouTube that was made by a single person, and if you watch this video for 54 seconds you'll start to see why.

Once you've watched Valle Verde, you can read this post.

ARGs, or alternate reality games, were a natural outgrowth of creepypasta (as the great Jenny Nicholson once put it, "campfire stories on a global scale"). With creepypasta, people, usually young people, would hop onto the internet and tell a spooky story about a haunted Sonic cartridge with realistic blood or a super evil serial killer who was never caught or Slenderman or something.

Due to the memetic nature of these stories, though, there became an arms race to make them on increasingly elaborate scales. Soon, people were ROMhacking their favorite old games to actually show the spooky haunted realistic blood. A famous example, Ben Drowned, showed modded/corrupted Majora's Mask footage that was generally effective because Majora's Mask is already sort of a creepy game.

Ben Drowned was also notable for being a story that was continually updated. Originally, most creepypasta would be a single story, usually short, posted once. This is an effective medium for horror, which loses effectiveness the more things get explained, but at the same time, when people like something, they want more.

Okay, so how do you make an ongoing horror series that doesn't outright explain everything, and thus retains its horror aspect? The answer, seemingly independently reached by a wide variety of indie horror creators at the same time (Ben Drowned, Marble Hornets, and the godfather Five Nights at Freddy's) was arcane hidden lore.

That's basically what separates an ARG from creepypasta: the "game" in "alternate reality game" is that sprinkled throughout a series of videos are scraps of hints toward a broader narrative, and the viewer is expected to locate those hints, piece them together, and figure out what's actually happening.

The logic is similar to the appeal of a mystery novel, so it's no wonder this took off. Channels like Game Theory posting lore breakdowns of FNAF or other popular series raked in beaucoup views. Indie horror devs would start putting dumbass lore hints in their goofball games to piggyback off FNAF's memetic success. Pathetic things like this happened:

But ARGs are fundamentally different from a mystery novel. In a mystery novel, the terms of the mystery are overtly made known. Someone has been murdered and a world famous detective has arrived to find out who did it/how they did it. By contrast, ARGs are often abstracted to the point that it is difficult to know whether there actually is a mystery. And besides, the mystery in an ARG isn't "who is the killer," it's "what is even the plot?"

Heavily abstracted, often fragmented storylines, with no clear plot, disjointed organization, and only scattered ambiguously meaningful moments that could be arranged in any number of ways to attempt coherence. What does this remind me of?

They reinvented postmodernism!

This realization came home when Skinamarink received a theatrical release in 2022. Skinamarink was an analog horror (another offshoot branch of creepypasta/ARGs) video blown up to cinema length, created by an analog horror YouTuber based on an original 20 minute video they made. Mainstream critics who saw this film, being completely unaware of what analog horror was, extolled the film for its Lynchian, Kubrickian influences. They were unaware its actual greatest influence was Mandela Catalogue. They were unaware that a thrillingly unique, abstract form of storytelling had organically been created by a group of outsider artists on the internet.

Kubrick would be proud.

I find this especially exciting in a mainstream pop cultural milieu that is trending toward, at least in my appraisal, increasing obviousness and simplicity in how it communicates ideas, which is not only boring but also annihilates the capacity for nuance, interpretation, and even meaning itself.

This also comes alongside ARG creators often pushing themselves to new technical extremes, extremes that are absurdly impressive for individuals. Kane Pixels has created amazing found footage videos using Blender-made labyrinths. The Mandela Catalogue guy was doing some crazy shit with puppets(?) last I checked. And, of course, the act of modding old games has evolved into the act of creating whole video games entirely as a vehicle for an ARG. The first example of this I know of is Petscop, and there have been others like Catastrophe Crow (which splices in an extremely accurate pastiche of a retro gaming video essayist, plus period-accurate game magazine articles), but Valle Verde takes it to a new level.

Since you've all seen Valle Verde by now, I won't waste time explaining the seriously impressive stuff it pulls off.

Instead, I'll let the other shoe drop.

I have a fundamental problem with all these ARGs, one that pains me all the more because I am so thrilled by so many aspects of them. The problem is that once you dig into them, once you piece together the underlying narrative from all the tiny clues, interpret the ambiguities, and see the broader picture -

The picture sort of sucks.

Ben Drowned, FNAF, Petscop, Catastrophe Crow boil down to the same residual dew: Children died. (Either murdered or just tragically.) Their spirits haunt the game cartridge/animatronics. All the scant hints point to the cause. (Ben Drowned spoils it in the title.) It's not only sort of banal but also the story that you could probably guess at without reading into the deep lore, just from the story's general vibe.

It's a fundamentally boring answer to a fascinating puzzle, and worse, it reveals that there was no true value in the puzzle being presented as it was. The abstraction and postmodern technique of the narrative contribute nothing to its overall meaning. They exist with the sole aim to obfuscate, because horror only works when unexplained. Rather than leave the horror unexplained, though, the way Kubrick would in The Shining (which deliberately strips out overt explanations that exist in the book it adapts), or Lynch would in anything, these works are attempting to have their cake and eat it: there's stupid lore that explains everything, but it's just a little hard to find. In that sense, rather than being a rejection of the current cultural milieu toward works that make simple sense, this trend seems more like an attempt to reinject that milieu into one of the few genres of storytelling that had effectively rejected it. (It reads similarly to all the Babadook-inspired indie horror films of the past decade where the monster is some transparent allegory for grief or trauma or something.)

So what's the story of Valle Verde?

I won't go into a Game Theory breakdown of every symbol and detail. As far as I can tell, this is what's going on:

Valle Verde, the fiction within the fiction, is a Japanese video game developed with experimental technology called THBrain that gives it a sophisticated and advanced artificial intelligence capable of making on-the-fly alterations to the game's script. Valle Verde, the series of videos, depicts an investigation into certain malfunctioning elements of the game prior to its release. The player character, self-identified as TEST05, is actually played by two "agents" (of what agency is unclear) named Pablo and Robert testing the game and chronicling anomalous behavior.

The series of glitches and other bizarre things they record seems to depict a theological battle between Valle Verde's freemasonic villagers, led by Foxxo (remember that the next elections), and the Catholic Church, led by Pietro (possibly an avatar for St. Peter, the first pope and guardian of the gates of heaven).

Joseph of Cupertino is the patron saint of aviation. It's a "time flies" pun.

It's unclear how much autonomy either of these factions have, even knowing that there is apparently a super-sophisticated AI capable of injecting novel information. Pietro at times breaks the fourth wall and addresses Pablo directly by name; the villagers don't break the fourth wall, but do all sorts of stuff that is described by the tapes as anomalous. The AI seems like the obvious culprit, but in Valle Verde 2, Pablo actually meets the AI, who claims to have sequestered themselves from the rest of the game because they didn't want to partake in the villagers' rituals, and who has even disabled all their language libraries except Spanish to avoid comprehending the screams of the children trapped inside the game.

Oh yeah. Children are dying.

The THBrain seems to not only enable incredible AI, but is a way to upload humans into the video game (maybe this is unrelated to THBrain? I'm fuzzy on that point). Several children have already been uploaded and are presumed dead; currently, an Argentinian child named Matias is trapped in the game. Matias is the only other character besides Pietro capable of breaking the fourth wall, due to being a real person; he is aware of Pablo as an "agent" and suggests at some sort of conspiracy outside the game, which has not been explicated in much detail in the available videos.

The reason the children are dying is eventually revealed: the freemasonic villagers are sacrificing them to their false god, Moloch.

I'm not kidding about the freemasonry. Note the Argentinian flag.

There are other plot elements that are a bit murkier; Valle Verde seems to be a nexus of several unrelated video games, which can be accessed through an in-game library, and it is within this nexus that Moloch lives, and perhaps where the underlying purpose behind the villagers' actions lurk. There is also a recurring motif of a coming Christian apocalypse, likened to Noah's flood. After the freemasonic sacrifice, a doomsday clock ticks closer to midnight. Are the masons unwittingly provoking God's wrath? The series is framed as footage from 1997 that was unearthed in the modern day, so was this apocalypse averted, or did the apocalypse simply exist within the game, with no bearing on reality? The series remains ongoing; future installments may clarify.

But the underlying issue remains that, for me at least, the basic conflict in its simplicity and lack of ambiguity seems inadequately matched to the unique, impressive, and open-ended presentation. It retroactively makes me wonder what the point is of telling the story the way Valle Verde is told, if its story is in essence the Church versus Satan-worshippers, with clear moral and ideological lines drawn. Doesn't a more conventional narrative make sense for this sort of story?

There's a scene early on when the player character traverses a series of rooms corresponding to the Seven Deadly Sins. The sin of greed is depicted, not simply with stacks of gold, but with works of modern art:

As the player proceeds through the room, they discover a dumpster where Renaissance artwork by Titian and Michelangelo is trashed:

The message here is almost fatuous. It's also deeply ironic. Valle Verde is a work that has far more in common, in terms of its formalistic technique, with Picasso than Titian. Is it a lack of self-awareness that puts this here? Or perhaps something else?

The novel Infinite Jest ends abruptly, with none of its plot points resolved. In this way it's similar to the titan of American postmodern literature, Gravity's Rainbow, which peters out without explaining the conspiracy that has driven its narrative. Infinite Jest plays a trick, though, as devious as it is facile. The final 200 pages of the book have been cut off and moved to the front. The story's beginning is a flash forward that, in its lack of context and confusing abstractions, is difficult to make sense of on first read. Upon rereading after finishing the book, though, it clearly contains the answers to all the unresolved plot threads.

If postmodernism could be described as an artistic period of uncertainty and obscured truth that was a response to the similarly uncertain Cold War era, where the inner machinations of governments may at any time cause the annihilation of the entire world, then what Infinite Jest did, published just a few years after the Cold War's end, could be seen as a reclamation of truth.

Truth itself is a concept deeply interwoven with Christianity. In Valle Verde, Pietro even calls it out with a green highlight to indicate its importance:

La Verdad sounds suspiciously similar to Valle Verde. Coincidence?

The context of this quote comes after the villagers destroy the church; Pietro reassures the player that La Verdad remains unchanging, and that this tribulation shall pass.

Might Valle Verde itself then be an Infinite Jest style reclamation, using the formalistic techniques of postmodernism that are so useful for obscuring truth to obscure what is, at its core, a simple and morally black-and-white tale of Christianity versus wicked idolatry?

There is a real-world allegorical undercurrent to Valle Verde that makes this reading even more appealing. Valle Verde's creator, Alluvium, is Argentinian, and the game is steeped in references to Argentinian history and politics.

That's a map of the Falkland Islands and a picture of former Argentine dictator Juan Peron.

At one point, when the villagers destroy the church (with the unwitting? help of the player character, who seems to have no moral interest in anything happening, and who only does whatever anyone asks him, whether it's Pietro or Foxxo), a highly overt reference is made to the death of Pope John Paul I, who reigned for only 33 days in the late 1970s before he died, officially, of a heart attack. The abruptness of his death, and the failure of the corrupt, Mafia- and freemason-connected Vatican Bank in the years that followed, have led to conspiracy theories that John Paul was actually murdered by freemasons within the Vatican so that they may continue to corrupt the Catholic Church.

Specifically, the conspiracy posits the assassination was done by the freemasonic branch P2, or Propaganda Due, an illegal fascistic secret society that contained many high-ranking members of Italian politics (including Silvio Berlusconi), whose goal was to act as a shadow government that could prevent the rise of communism within Italy. (P2 definitely existed; how much it actually influenced Italian politics is a matter of debate.)

Though primarily an Italian organization, P2 had several influential members from other countries, notably Argentina, where several politicians and military leaders at the highest levels were involved. As a nation, Argentina is something of a tragedy; at one point considered a rising economic powerhouse, its excellent geographic and demographic advantages were squandered by a long succession of corrupt leaders, including those involved in P2. It makes sense, then, why an Argentinian creator like Alluvium might be so interested in critiquing the evils of freemasonic corruption.

Valle Verde satirizes Argentina's leadership via Foxxo, not only through his freemasonic devil rituals, but also in more down-to-earth ways. In his introduction, Foxxo provides the player character 100 coins, telling him to "remember that the next elections" (Foxxo's catchphrase, despite him clearly stating he has been given absolute authority over the area by The Smiling One); moments later, when the player turns to leave, Foxxo mugs him from behind and puts him 99,999 coins in debt.

Through the use of masonic slogans like liberté, égalité, fraternité (which is written over what appears to be a portal to Hell) and masonic symbols such as the Statue of Liberty and Washington Monument, there's an undercurrent that expands this freemasonic secular/Satanic conspiracy beyond Argentinian politics and into the post-Enlightenment secular governments that have come to rule the so-called free world. "Progress is God," the freemasons state during their child sacrifice ritual. (Foxxo is joined in this scene by the village's museum curator, representing knowledge, and its scientist, representing progress.)

It's this kind of framing that makes me wonder about the previous scene depicting Picasso paintings as emblematic of the sin of Greed, compared to Renaissance paintings in the dumpster; is there a general theme here raging against modernity in all its forms, compared to a fundamentally good and absolute Christian religious truth? If so, it makes sense why Valle Verde is presented as it is, so abstractly; it shows a world rendered incomprehensible by modernity, but one that can be sifted and parsed to find incontrovertible religious salvation still shining underneath.

It is a rejection of "progress," using the formal techniques of "progress." In a milieu where the promises of the Enlightenment seem to have hit a dead end, where the freedom secularism once promised has given rise to corruption and abuses akin to those the Catholic Church of the Renaissance once inflicted, perhaps the sense of going back appeals.

The English literary world post-Infinite Jest itself also seems to have returned to the past; the works published today are realistic in style and scope, eschewing most formal techniques pioneered across the preceding century. Though I doubt that was David Foster Wallace's goal, it's what he created. Valle Verde, which is so explicit in its fundamental belief in Christianity, is probably far more deliberate in its rejection of the world as it currently exists.

Though there have always been voices calling for a return to the past, perhaps this is a mindset particularly enticing in the information age, when meaning seems so fragmented as to be ungraspable. Though Valle Verde is conscious of what it is doing formally in a way that, say, Ben Drowned is not, the inner simplicity of these ARG narratives obfuscated by abstraction strikes me as a collective yearning for clearly explicated, graspable truths in a world where such a thing seems increasingly impossible. Almost a fantasy: If only this incomprehensible eldritch horror could be explained by a 10-minute Game Theory video!

(The eldritch itself is a horror rooted in incomprehensibility. Making it explicable banishes it entirely, the way the protagonist of Valle Verde banishes a demon by holding aloft a crucifix. La Verdad triumphs. Couldn't our lives be so simple?)

Not every ARG is like this. Kane Pixels, another creator I would highlight for their exceptional technical talent and avant garde storytelling, has created far more nuanced and ambiguous narratives with works like The Oldest View, which deals with themes of nostalgia and memory without being resolvable into a simple pat sentence synopsis. Overall, I consider this entire collection of web original horror creators to be blessed with both the talent and mindset to create truly innovative works of fiction, even if many of them are outsider artists fumbling around just trying to scare someone; as outsiders, these confused anti-confusions of theme and meaning might be par for the course.

Valle Verde is an impressive work of art, even if it is an avant garde work that paradoxically rejects itself. Perhaps in that paradox more could be said than had it remained fully self-consistent. Either way, I eagerly await what comes next.

[bbubblerum]

My Problem with Paladins

Okay so, this is gonna be a long post not like much I've done before but I must RANT haha! This will be specifically focusing on the 5e(2014) version of Paladins because I have not played anything 2024 and probably won't.

So a bit of background. I have been a DM for dnd for about 6 years at this point, running for at least 10 Paladins and Playing a Paladin once. So in risk of being overconfident, I know what Paladins are like and I(think?) I know what I am talking about! Over this time I have gained a strong dislike for Paladins as a class, and in fact I believe it is the worst designed class in 5e by FAR.

This is not to tell you that you should not play Paladin. I am not your DM. It is just for you to read and think about as either a DM or PC.

Explanation:

My problem with Paladins is that each class is based off a Core Class Fantasy. Rogue is the Thief, walking through the shadows and scouting locations, Fighter is a skilled warrior who is capable in almost any scenario, Wizard is a master of the arcane who is knowledgeable on many subjects and always has a spell for any situation etc. Paladin's Core Fantasy as a class is the Holy Warrior, Arthurian Knight etc. That is a very strong Core Fantasy. But this is not what brings a lot of people to this class because the fantasy has shifted with 5e.

My understanding is that previous editions had stricter requirements for becoming a Paladin(being a certain alignment etc) and so it was a bit more powerful to compensate. 5e removed these requirements rightfully because they were boring and unnecessarily restricted character concepts. But 5e in an attempt to stay in line with other editions kept them as unusually powerful.

Each class is good at certain things by default, Druid is good at Support and Control. Healing or buffing party members and laying down spells like spike growth to control the battlefield. Fighters have decent Armour Class, Decent Hit Points and Decent Damage. Wizards are good at Damage and Control etc. This is where the Paladin stands out from other classes, it is good at too much.

The Paladin has the BEST Support ability in the game in Aura of Protection, which if a player knows to put a 20 in Charisma throws off the balance of the game so much that it actually breaks. Spellcasters by the book simply no longer function. No spell or saving throw effect will be reliable in any capacity against most of the group. Having a single Paladin in a group throws out creatures like Beholders(a very iconic and fun creature) because they use almost exclusively Saving Throws.

They also have the single best Damage ability in the game in Divine Smite. A Feature where you can add up to 6d8 after you hit. Allowing you to essentially destroy critical hits as a mechanic. This feature quickly outperforms almost all other damage features and spells in the game, and single handedly breaks multiclassing. A Sorcerer or any other spellcaster can multiclass for 2 levels at any point past 9th level and get the ability to use this ability on the level of a 17th level Paladin. God forbid you ever come across a Bladesinger/Paladin multiclass, because that will stretch your sanity as a DM.

On top of these game breaking abilities, Paladin's Hit Points are only outclassed by Barbarians. Tied with Fighter and Ranger at a d10 Hit Dice. Along with this, they also get proficiency with Heavy Armour and Shields, allowing them some of the highest Armour Class in 5e. They do TOO much. This has caused the shift in the Core Fantasy of Paladins. Their fantasy in what I have seen is no longer a Knight or Holy Warrior or anything of the sort, it is being the Best. The Paladin is the best class in 5e, because it was not designed well. Its only shortcoming mechanically is what, movement speed? Stealth(unless you go for the equally as powerful Dexterity based Paladin)?

Why This Is Bad:

The reason I have a problem with all this is not because I hate powergaming or minmaxing. Frankly that is kind of ingrained in my group at this point. We have all been playing and DM-ing for many years and we like to exploit parts of the system within reason. I have had many Assassin Rogue/Gloomstalker Rangers and Swords Bard Archers in my group and it has always been a lot of fun. My problem with Paladins is honestly just how much they increase the work of the DM to make combat tolerable. Because of how good their Saving Throws and Damage are, you have three choices:

Buff your monsters Saving Throw DCs and Hit Points

Use Higher Level Monsters

Let your party Steamroll every combat

All of these have their own problems. Buffing your monsters and using higher level monsters results in 1-Shotting anyone outside of the Paladin's Aura of Protection, and turns most fights into a Hit Point Slog. But not doing either of these results in all fights being over in less than 2 rounds and essentially giving into the Paladin's Core Fantasy of being OP and getting to live out an empty Powerfantasy. I have tried all of these, and it is an incredibly difficult balancing act that means if you screw up even slightly, the combat is deeply unfun.

Paladin is profoundly Anti-Fun in its design. The only person having a good time is the Paladin and even then that doesn't last past the first few times they 1-shot a god haha. Paladin is one of my favorite classes in fiction, I love the IDEA of Paladins but the mechanics are just "What is the Best Thing we can give a Player Character?"

What I will Be Doing In the Future:

Okay so we are out of the weeds of my rant, now I will be actually be giving advice and explaining what I am doing with my statement.

I have been very much considering straight up banning Paladin in my games. This is a pretty brute force method of dealing with this and people won't like it, but I do really think that it will make the games I run better. Banning is not fun, but this class has legitimately caused me IRL stress.

However, I do think I have it in me to "Fix" Paladins. I love the 4e version and its sister class the Avenger. I think I am good enough to Homebrew a version of this class that maintains the class fantasy but has less of the problems I have discussed because this class has a LOT to offer! I love the flavour of the class, and I think the Subclasses of the Paladin are some of if not the best designed in the game. It actually feels like the subclasses were made by a completely different company. The fact that your subclass determines your 20th level feature is genius and I love every one of them. With a special place in my heart for the Oath of Conquest and Oath of Ancients.

I will likely be banning the class at some point in the future until I can homebrew and playtest a new version. Because I think honestly just tweaking Divine Smite and Aura of Protection can save this pile of burning tires. If you have read this far, thank you for putting up with me and please let me know what you agree/disagree with I am very open to new points of view on this.

Why You Should Not Listen To Me:

In my current campaign I have let my Paladin player Smite on Bow Attacks and given his character an Oathbow that has been buffed significantly. They are level 12 and they are 1-shotting Tarrasques. <3

[oodlyenough]

arcane s2 act 2

so my main criticism of act 1 was that everything felt rushed. that has not gotten better lol

i knew going in that two seasons -- of nine episodes, and short 40 minute episodes at that -- was probably going to be too little. and it is. well. what can you do, i guess. i'm glad this isn't my number 1 fandom interest the way it was in 2022 because if it were i'd be much more bothered lol. many of the beats we're hitting are beats i like on paper but we are blitzing through them so fast they have no time to breathe or sink in before we're onto the next one.

also i respect the huge amount of effort that goes into creating an animated series that looks the way this looks, but these episodes are so short. the runtime is 40 minutes and five of that is credits and another five of that is our obligatory stylized music video. it's just too little time to dedicate to a large ensemble cast and a complex plot. it sucks to be watching the final season of a show and realize you haven't seen [Major Character] for entire episodes, or entire acts (!). outside of jinx and ambessa, it feels like everyone's fave is getting shortchanged on screentime, some more than others. with only three episodes left it's hard to imagine they'll manage to resolve everyone's arc and all the outstanding mysteries and bring everything to a satisfying conclusion. fans freaked out when they first accidentally let slip that after s2 they were moving away from these characters and fans were right. womp womp

more detailed spoiler stuff:

sevika. the hair. why :(

"jinx is a symbol of resistance" is one of those things that i didn't feel they entirely set up. sure, she has pushed back on piltover -- but every time she has, piltover has cracked down even harder on zaun. there's really no zaunites who resent her for that? hm

isha is a character i struggle with because i thought everything about her was too on the nose in act 1 and then we had open act 2 with jinx stating the thesis aloud to the camera. "gee you remind me of my old self powder. i wonder if this is how silco felt about me, powder." lol

i was DARING the show to have vi flashback to punching powder after she hit isha lmaooo. impressed they resisted

whatever tho i did enjoy the jinx-sevika-isha unit while it lasted

vander's werewolf self going back to the hideout he used to share with silco... their jackets hung together... bro...

i have to say i'm actually not sure i like the felicia stuff that much. i don't know. arcane isn't subtle ever and this felt like another sledgehammer. i think i also ... actually derive a bit less meaning from vander taking them in/silco raising jinx if actually vander and silco were besties with their mom and knew them growing up, too. not that it stopped silco from wanting to murk vi lmao so i guess it's no guarantee of his affection for jinx, but... yeah. idk. subtle as a brick: that's arcane

also was this telling me that vander saw felicia die during a rebellion they all incited, flipped out and blamed silco and tried to DROWN HIM ... like... jesus man that's pretty harsh lmao i'd start villain monologuing too

mel in the torture labyrinth was interesting, and i loved getting to meet a version of her sexy brother kino. as soon as [man's voice] appeared i was like omg is it her sexy brother... and it was! sort of! i'm assuming his look and personality and voice match real kino even if he was some kind of trick monster thing. i like the medarda family lore and i liked getting to see mel and kino interact, if briefly

on the other hand, mel being trapped in the torture labyrinth meaning that's her only 5 minutes of screentime for all of act 2 and the reveal is that she has magic powers which we already surmised from the s1 cliffhanger... i don't know... and an illegitimate baby plot? like... we have so many plots. please.

also she's totally pregnant and i hate that. lol.

i started this season ambessa's number 1 fan and i have enjoyed her but also there is a lot of her, when other major characters from s1 get little screentime. i had hoped seeing more ambessa would mean seeing more of ambessa and mel, bc their relationship with each other is very interesting, but... nope??? i mean, sure there's act 3, but we've had six episodes so far of little.

caitlyn's arc was such a disappointment to me. the end of act 1 with her was such a strong stark scene and by the time we pick up with her in act 2 we've already montaged past all her war crimes and into the part where she feels bad about them and is ready to turn a new leaf. like. come on man.

her reunion with vi was way too smooth. i would love vi to be angry with her for her bullshit. maybe they'll fight again next act, they fight all the time, but like... ugh. 2.1 was such a big falling out and then vi just shrugs it off and we're back to "cupcake". poor vi the writers dgaf about her

viktor's cult was not what i expected at all, i expected something more outwardly sinister lol. people on twitter are arguing back and forth about how obviously evil it was but i am not sure that's the case -- or like -- i mean i think as an audience member aware you're watching a tv show, it's easy to be like "this is clearly evil and will be revealed as such later", but just in terms of what the show is putting down in act 2 i think it's presented as this bastion of hope which is then destroyed. in act 3 we will find out why it was destroyed, i assume, and can retroactively decide if that was a good decision or not.

sky. sis. i wish they like. made you a person in s1. i have no frame of reference for if this feels like the real sky whose consciousness is now in the void (like viktor's seems to be?) or if she's like the hexcore's avatar for getting what it wants (which is what i feel act 1 implied), because they did not spend time in s1 to establish her

i joked in s1 a lot about salo getting a front row seat to jayce and viktor's weird gay thing over the years so it's nice he got to participate in their last conversation flkhghgl. but this was another scene where i felt the pacing was nerfing things -- i like the general exchange on paper, that there's been this time apart and viktor wants to show jayce what he's working on and jayce is all fucked up and bitter or whatever, but in real time their reunion, split, and then this scene happen in such a condensed time ... we haven't really seen either of them apart, we didn't see jayce's time growing bitter or whatever and even if we see it in act 3 it's belated?

i also thought it was odd how viktor was like "i was clouded by emotion" when honestly their breakup was the most emotionless he'd ever been to that point lol

it is very funny to think that jayce came out of s1 and the hell void and the lesson he learned was he should continue shooting first and asking questions never

i can think of several possible explanations for jayce's behaviour, ranging from "something i'd be super into" all the way to "i don't want to type it out in fear of invoking it into the universe". so i'm trying not to speculate all that much tbh, lest i grow attached to the former and get the latter

"peacock princes... an old family joke" and "you once told me every system has limits" are two great examples of stuff feeling rushed. these so clearly feel like they should be callbacks to scenes we actually *saw* but they just aren't. because we never got flashback kino, and viktor and sky never held a conversation until she died.

ekko and heimerdinger died on the way to their home planet...

this all sounds exceedingly negative listed out, when in reality i was mostly having a good time. it's just... the cracks are starting to show as the the show strains under the pressure of accomplishing all its goals in a measly 18 episodes. that crunch means any time someone's watching a scene about a plot or characters they like less they're going to start feeling impatient, any time a musical number doesn't hit (and i have to be honest, s2 is more misses than hits for me so far) they're going to feel impatient... i don't know. i find it difficult to see how they'll pull all of this off without leaving the audience thinking "jeeze that needed another season", or "why did they waste time on X when i wanted to see Y".

[mae-i-scribble]

So I'm not really that into Arcane fandom or anything like that but is anyone else a little worried for how season 2 is progressing thus far? I'm not talking about the apparent Caitlyn vitriol that some people are falling into- god forbid you have complex characters am I right. But watching the first act of season 2 it's all so terribly rushed and not in the same way season 1 had fast pacing but with tight writing to make up for it.

Spoilers for the first 3 episodes ahead but the fact that we barely even get to know the new enforcer characters that come to Zaun annoys me. The most we have is the girl introducing herself to Vi. The other two aren't even named in the show let alone have any sort of personality. For the big shield guy why is he even allowed to be an enforcer???? Sir you were seemingly living on the streets drinking away your problems last I checked with no indication you were or wanted to be an enforcer. The kid that follows Jinx around doesn't even have any sort of lines until episode 3- which would be fine if it was clearly a deliberate choice for her character but considering that the show is trying to juggle so much it just feels like she fell to the wayside.

I'm also very much not a fan of how the 2nd season is structuring its storylines thus far- certain scenes loose their tension because they're so intercut with other scenes happening simultaneously- take the vi and jinx fight for example. Like I get it you wanted to show how them interacting with the run was actively interfering with the fight but the constant cuts back and forth leave a bad taste in my mouth. The structure they use for the various sections with music overplaying them are hit or miss to me- some I love, some I think should have been actual scenes with dialogue.

I'm also really sad to see them seemingly rush over bits of character development we really need to see. Like take Vi- her not wanting to be an enforcer is 200% justifiable and believable, we haven't been shown anything about how the enforcers work that would give Vi a reason to want to join. And then after the attack in episode 1 she silently comes to a decision to join which fine, I can buy her wanting to help now that Zaun is conducting terrorist attacks. But she just agreed to the plan to use the gray against the people of Zaun???? Really???? Vi did??? Shouldn't Vi, someone who is only joining the enforcers out of desperate necessity, be way more critical of any use of force in the undercity? There's even little things like when Caitlyn arrests the henchman I was expecting Vi to stand up for him because almost *everyone* in the undercity is some sort of criminal so that they can survive. But no it just turns into Vi asking them to ditch the side characters we know absolutely nothing about.

Speaking of Vi- for the record the cait/vi kiss in my opinion was stupidly forced in. I would have liked to see their relationship develop this season because in season 1 I could see the beginning of something there. I really loved the moment in the first episode where it's only when seeing Vi that Caitlyn breaks down a little because Vi is someone she can trust to be open with. Great stuff to further develop- oh no they're kissing after no development just to make the immediately following break up more dramatic? Great yay yippee representation -_- Don't get me wrong I would have loved to see it develop into a romance but not in episode 3 with no buildup (1st season does not count as buildup to me for an actual romantic relationship).

This is also somewhat petty but I do hate the fact that Ambessa is revealed to be behind the memorial attack in episode 3- I much would have preferred for that information to be revealed to the audience alongside whatever character discovers it. Revealing it like that is dramatic, sure, but I feel like it ruins the mystery of Ambessa's morality in a way that is not satisfying.

All in all I'm not the happiest with these first 3 episodes but we'll have to see how the other 2 arcs go before making any judgement calls overall.

[ask-codeearasure]

The Outer Realms -- Chapter 17

<-[Previous Chapter]

[Next Chapter]->

Wish to refill Ink's Paints? Go to our Ask Box!

—-----

Chapter Seventeen:

Opposition

—----

“You can’t escape the past. Right? Be a shame if I had to put them on again. Cast Irons… well, it’s hard to clean.” – Vander (Arcane)

—-

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” asked Error, confused.

Ink had just finished filling him in on the information he got from Edge. Error was right, Dream was not dead, but technically he was dying or in critical condition. Whatever golden apples that other skeleton threw at them back in Dreamtale were probably sick twisted copies of his friend’s soul, but it also implied they probably knew where Dream was.

“I don’t know, who knows where these… Outer-what-ever is at…” Ink shrugged, “I just want to check on my dads before we even begin trying to find it.”

Zephyrtop was the last AU in the lineup anyways. For Error, sorting through the code there would be a breeze while Ink caught up with Gaster, Aster, and his four brothers. And considering the former two were the technical creators of Zephyrtop altogether, the probability of it staying destroyed if they were too late was second to none.

Besides, with two of the very few creators left in the multiverse secure under his belt and held highly in his figurative heart, maybe they could help Ink find Dream. Error could only do so much with a being who had no code to his existence anyways.

“My guess is we’ll have to pick a direction and then just keep going until we find something.” Error huffed, cleaning his glasses with his scarf. He was already annoyed with the prospect of another AU he had to recode, remove another destruction code, and-or adding that blasted counter-command just to keep that weird copy of himself from destroying another AU.

“But what if we go in the wrong direction?” Ink asked.

“Then we can loop around. If they called this place the Inner Circle, then the best assumption we have is that everything is in a circle, we can loop around until we find your side-piece.” Error stated as if it were a simple matter. 

“Dream is not my ‘side-piece’, Error,” Ink hissed through his teeth.

The glitch rolled his eyelights. Though he had to admit, he was downplaying the entire thing. Who knew how many AUs were technically out there. It could be hundreds to millions, a good amount of said AUs likely being destroyed by the copy-cat and thus just being blank white nothingness. So if they made the wrong assumption as to how far they could go or not would mean they’d be searching for days to even years.

Even Error understood they didn’t have much time, but there really was not much they could do outside of participate in these fucking guessing games. At this point playing a game of Russian Roulette would get them closer to finding Dream. They could split up, but Ink and his memory problems were as untrustworthy as a pipe bomb with a broken timer the size of a tactical nuke. You don’t know whether or not you defused the damn thing, and even if you did, would you really trust your life with it? So he was stuck here.

Plus, there was that husk running around, that stupid fucking anomaly wearing Ink’s face without a single care in the world. If there was the copy-cat and the husk, that meant there was the likely chance that they both have a similar history to him and Ink. They likely both fought each other over the same reasons and since that anomaly was a pain in the ass to take down, that meant that the other glitch was also going to be a problem.

Either that, or the only things they had going for them was at face-value.

Or he was overthinking it.

He probably was overthinking it.

Definitely.

There is no way Error couldn’t kick BOTH of those impostors’ asses SINGLE HANDEDLY, NO SWEAT, NO FUCKS GIVEN!

Ink tapped him on the forehead, prompting Error to jump and swat their smaller hand away. His friend wasn’t phased.

���Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

The glitch snorted. “Not much. Are we going to your weird parents’ place or what?”

“Awww, did ya finally wanna meet my old men?” Ink playfully rocked back on his heels, loosely crossing his arms behind his back. “It’s about time, they’ve been asking about you for ages!”

He’s…? There is no way they’ve been talking about him to their fucking parents…? Why would they?

“Uh huh. Sure they were.” Error clicked his tongues in repulsion. “No, I just want to get this over with then go back to my Anti-Void and pretend none of this ever happened.”

“Oh. Okay.” Ink’s face fell, but at least they didn’t push the issue. They opened a portal to Zephyrtop’s motherboard and jumped in. Error followed suit, wishing that one day Ink would learn another way to make portals with literally anything else but paint. He hated the texture.

Both outcodes arrived, Ink pleasantly surprised at the fact Zephyrtop’s motherboard was actually decorated, and Error looking through every nook and cranny of the space to find the coding ‘screen’. 

The motherboard looked like a warehouse, storing blueprints and bullet point-filled cork boards, whiteboards only half cleaned, couches, coffee tables, a couple TV screens overlooking the main plaza, circus, and mansion where Ink’s fathers and siblings lived. It was obvious that through thick and thin, this universe was a well cared for outlier in comparison to the neglect all the others had gone through.

Knowing all this sooner would have made Error’s job so much easier in the past, but now that he’s thinking about this in the current day, any kind of prideful satisfaction the younger him would have gotten was nonexistent. Instead, the destroyer could only define one thing he felt from staring at the larger picture for so long.

Pity.

But of course, only Ink’s family would have given enough of a damn about their home to keep it this vibrant and alive, efficiently and effectively meeting the needs and wants of the characters inhabiting this universe.

It’s almost like being caretakers was a common theme in Ink’s family, and Error definitely didn’t fit the part. He didn’t even understand why he found this revelation so intriguing. It was unsettling, but Error had already been unsettled since before Ink made the portal.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, like they were being watched.

“I can’t find it,” Error set down the couch he had lifted and flopped on top of it. Since Gaster and Aster were still around and thriving, what was the point of going through this universe’s code? They probably had already thought of something to keep every creation of theirs protected.

“Maybe we should leave; take our chances looking for Dream without them.”

Ink shook his head, but didn’t look his friend in the eye and fiddled with the empty vials on his sash. It didn’t take rocket science for Error to tell he was anxious. The artist had been nothing short of distressed this entire time, both with and without sufficient doses of his paints.

“I can’t do that, Error, I need– I just need to see my dads, man. Maybe they don’t know what’s going on. I mean, they barely get out as is…”

“So what makes you think they’d know what to do?” Error sat up, grabbing a pillow and squeezing it, venting his frustration little by little into the carefully embroidered floral design in the fabric. “You just said they don’t leave as much. They don’t know the multiverse like we do.”

“Yeah, I know that, it’s just–... They’re creators, Error. They have access to some influence over all universes that we don’t!”

“So did XGaster, and look at what happened to him.”

Whatever train of thought Ink was trying so hard to uplift might as well have just crashed and exploded into a trillion pieces. The artist’s hands dropped from their sash, and they didn’t do much aside from stare at the floor. Right. Him. How could he forget?

“XGaster had… ambitions, I guess, but asking any help out of him would’ve been like pulling chicken’s teeth. Impossible,” Ink started. “I don’t really… know where that guy went either.”

“Oh, he's as good as dead,” Error’s tone lightened, using one of his arms to cushion his head and pulled a thread out of his eyesocket with the free one to fiddle with.

“Last I heard, he got killed by his own creations! If only I could’ve seen it myself, but when I went to XTale for any kind of entertainment, nothing was left.”

“Really?” Ink looked up, eyes wide. “Nothing left?”

“Nada!” Error twirled the string around his index finger, grinning to himself in amusement. “If anything did survive, maybe Dream or that BUG Core!Frisk got to them first.”

Maybe Ink should check the Omega Timeline for them later. He slightly recalled the XTale inhabitants primarily having a black and white color palette for their clothing, but because he had to juggle an overabundance of creators around the same time that AU was active, it’s not like he could go out of his way to give it any special attention.

Oh, how the tables have turned since then.

“Well if you don’t want to go, that’s okay, but I really want to.” Ink reached back for Broomie, but then the motherboard shifted. 

The both of them froze immediately, then whipped around to stare at each other. Ink cleared his throat and slowly took down his hand.

“Did uh… Error, did you do something?”

“You think I’d be quiet if I did???”

“Good point, good point…”

Suddenly, there were teal strings that quickly ripped through the ground beneath Ink in the shape of an ‘x’, the air was rushing towards the strange hole they made, dragging the artist with it. Error used his own string to ground himself as he grabbed Ink’s hand. The rushing air was unrelenting as if it was demanding Ink be dragged into whatever hell it had in waiting. Error could see that the window frame his string was tied to was starting to break, forcing him to make a choice.

Either he let go of Ink, or he went with them.

He undid the string and they both were dragged in.

The portal was unlike anything they had ever seen. It was like an endless hole of cubes that made reality. He could sense it was like the Anti-Void, but also not. This was nothing like his home, but it had the same energy as it. When they finally crashed into the ground, it was as if they had fallen off of a twelve story skyscraper.

As Error got up, he saw the ground was blocky and uneven, as if it was destroyed, remade and re-destroyed endlessly, glitching out like some awful video game that had been both incomplete and re-coded constantly.

He looked over to Ink who was rubbing his head and popping his neck, the impact obviously still affecting him somewhat.

Then he heard it.

A glitch-filled laugh.

“Really? I thought I was doin’ yous a favor ‘ere,” said the voice.

How the fuck did Ink mistake that guy for him? Color him insulted to the highest degree.

The glitch barely looked anything like him! In fact, there were more differences than there were similarities. The most prominent thing was the hood of the jacket. It was easily comparable to a large lion’s mane, almost like Mufasa got skinned after everyone left. Bright golden fur was so long that it reached the glitch’s knees. The jacket was black and lined with neon blue but also had teal diamond markings, showing where it had been resown together on the sleeves. Even his shorts had the same markings. He wore a dark maroon turtleneck and a gold and gray-indigo vest over it. There was also an odd neon blue animal skull on the side of the jacket, right below where the hood started. He also carried a similar colored sickle with a golden chain wrapped around his waist. Another thing was his left eyelight. It had the shape of an ‘x’ with several rings around it.

He didn’t even wear his Papyrus’ scarf.

If he did, then Error would at the very least believe Ink had some reason to mistake them for Geno. But no. Their stupidity truly outweighed the odds.

Maybe he should lend Ink his glasses sometime.

“Really, Error?” asked the glitch, “Yous just had ta follow tha idiot ‘ere?”

“And what’s it to you, of all anomalies?” Error himself straightened his posture, already reaching up to his eyesockets for more strings. In the corner of his vision, Ink was already on their feet, their grip on Broomie firm and ready for a fight.

“Oh nothin’,” the glitch hummed, he touched the corners of his own eyesockets but instead of summoning strings like the way Error himself did, they did come, but rather they stood straight like claws, “I was just gonna take ‘im out for ya as a little practice run for when I have ta put up wit’ an idiot of my own.”

Error heard Ink suck in a breath, the artist inching closer to him. Something about this new guy pissed him off beyond what he considered the normal annoyance, which is what every other anomaly had become to him these days.

But no. As far as the destroyer was concerned, this fucker’s intentions were clear.

He wanted to take his place. That very thought on its own made his marrow boil, his teeth baring to match his growing hatred.

“I see what you’re putting on the table, and my answer is FUCK NO.”

“Really think ya had a choice in dis?” the glitch asked when suddenly two large blocks of the land suddenly appeared and collided with Ink from two different sides. Sandwiching him before two teal strings cut right through them. “I was merely tellin’ yous what was about ta happen.”

Ink rematerialized next to Error, a portal painted below him. Broomie’s length was already chopped in half, and the artist’s hands were sporting new cuts, spewing his namesake out from between the joints, a stark contrast to the pristine white Error expected to see every time.

The guardian of the AUs blinked several times, his eyelights spinning several shades of red in different shapes before settling on a triangle and a target symbol.

“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR!? THAT WAS A TOTAL SUCKER PUNCH!!!”

“Awes, ya pretendin’ ta be mad at lil’ ol’ me…” the glitch cooed, calmly walking off to the side, not really paying much attention to them. This was his domain, and it was clear he was beyond comfortable and confident here. “It’s real cute that ya pretend ta have emotions, Inky-boy. But ya really shouldn’t be playin’ wit’ people’s emotions, things can get real messy.”

The other error’s new target opened his mouth to interrupt, but then shut it, the accusation taking him off guard.

“What…? I don’t do that!”

“Suuure ya don’t. Like the way ya don’t treat everyone around ya, like they ain’t people? Like they’re jus’ some characters in a book that ya can interfere wit’, o’ watch dem struggle in tha misery planned fo’ em. Like tha way you don’t see me an’ Error as people?” the copy-cat stated, he checked his claws for a second and shrugged. He paused and looked directly at Ink, “Ya only go around an’ play hero, an don’t even care if dey get killed off anyways. Horrortale, Somethin’ New, Dusttale, or the otha AUs’ my friends are from. Ya don’ care about anyone or anythin’ but ya own entertainment.”

Error squinted bullets at the other, his freakish New York accent was getting annoying, and really fucking quick too. He’s sounding a hell of a lot like Nightmare with all that YAPPING.

“Ink, he’s fucking with you.”

Ink went to answer, but nothing he could possibly say came to mind. He wasn’t guilty of whatever the Error-copy was getting at, at least currently, he was free from it, but where the hell did he get that information? Why use it against them now? Was their decision and work to change completely ignored?

Error shifted, looking at his friend from the very edge of his vision.

“Ink?”

“I know he’s fucking with me! I want to know why.”

“Am I now?” the glitch snickered, “Ink, can ya really say I’m lyin’ ‘ere? I mean, let’s look at yer history! Tha moment yous get bored wit’ an AU your first tactic is ta ignore it like a child does wit’ a toy they’ve grown tired of, an’ if it still ain’t entertainin’ enough you let it destroy itself. Isn’t that why ya let Error run around? Yous was bored with Underswap an’ so ya let him keep that Swap!Sans around and let him do whatever he wanted?”

“Hey- HEY- NO, YOU THINK I KNEW WHAT HE DID TO BLUE??” Realizing what had happened to his friend had devastated Ink back then, almost to the point he genuinely thought of killing Error like Blue already tried. Where the fuck did this guy get off on assuming he didn’t care!?

“No, but yous expected it.” the glitch frowned, “I mean, yous had every opportunity ta stop ‘im before an’ after. But instead, ya just ran off wit’ tha rest of tha AU, replaced ‘im tha first chance ya got because ya realized far too late that tha poor guy was too far gone. I mean, it’s not like ya leave Error alive because ya like him. Ya don’t even actually feel anythin’. If ya did then… well yous a shit friend. Constantly leavin’ ya friends ta die in horrific ways, be it a Killer bein toyed with by Nightmare, Error ‘imself destroyin their AUs, Horrortales being allowed ta exist, leavin Dream ta get shot by Edelweiss– Oh…” he grinned as he feigned it as a ‘slip of the tongue’, “Oh right… Ol’ Dreamy gettin shot and put on life-support. And yous… yous was nowhere ta be found! Talk about carin’ ‘bout yer friends!”

“I DIDN’T KNOW ANY OF THAT UNTIL CURRENTLY, I–” Ink’s ribcage rattled, an indication of his frustration, which would only continue to spike to higher heights as their opponent kept talking.

Before Error could catch onto what the artist planned next, Ink was already gone, having summoned a gray and black gaster blaster and shot after the other error.

Error raced after him, letting his strings fly to as many lengths as possible, mainly in hope of grabbing his friend and dragging him back, but Ink had a head start and was too far ahead than what the glitch had accounted for.

Ink’s blaster wasn’t used to shoot their new adversary out of the air, but to propel him forward to fight him head-on. He did feel! His emotions were his own! And if he had known sooner what happened to Dream, he would have tracked down whoever had him themself just so they could be at his side! Whatever he needed and it was HIS!

But soon enough, the only thing Ink began to see for certain was the blind red of unrelenting rage.

“I’LL MAKE YOU EAT THOSE WORDS!”

The glitch dodged Ink in an extremely odd way, Ink just…fazed right through him. The glitch patted his body down and grumbled, “So uncivilized…”

Error almost froze when he saw the scene. The glitch destablized himself. He turned himself into a string of code.

The copy-cat used his strings to grab Ink in a near identical way he did the first time when they met. But rather, they wrapped around his joints. "Oh what's tha matta Inky boy? I was jus’ sayin' tha truth! Ya neva thought we even truly felt pain, or despair. It was only until ya really started lookin' around that you toyed wit’ dat idea, and even then... can we really trust that ya learned yer lesson? That ya see us as people? Tell me, Ink, if ya really cared, then what would ya do on instinct if I were ta... order my friend ta kill that twerp Dream? Would ya even try ta care? Or would ya sit back an’ watch tha show jus’ ta see what’ll happen?”

They didn’t even answer, summoning bucketfuls worth of ink from between their joints, materializing bones and blasters to barrage the glitch with. 

Error blasted the other’s strings, freeing Ink for only a second before they were snagged again in his own contraption of electric blue strings, yanking them back to his side as he reached out for the code to this place, only for the singular thing for Error to hit was a barrier.

The glitch swerved his blaster sideways, ducking under a floating, disembodied wall he recognized as corrupted, carefully crafted code as well, but appeared in the form of organized rubble.

“Why didn’t you hit him too, Error? He wants to hurt Dream!” Ink pulled himself up and struggled against his bindings. Error only tightened them, which served to enrage the artist further.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?”

“WE DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THIS, DUMBASS!” Error shot back, continuing to dodge and weave between chunks of rubble and ruin. He noticed all of them had a particular pattern, grays and whites, teals and reds, some gold here and there. It was like his prior-known ‘copy’ themed this Anti-Void after himself! 

As much as he hated other errors more than anything else, there was a certain danger that came from being in another glitch’s direct territory. Given two other errors had almost succeeded in wiping him off the census in the past, Error wasn’t about to risk his neck a third time.

“He wanted to get a rise out of you, Ink! He was manipulating you–” Error looked back as he made another turn, only to see the artist gone, and his strings cut through. 

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?”

“He didn’t really think dat through, did he?” asked the other glitch.

Error screamed, spinning around to face the other error, the strings hanging from his fingers and eyes whipping forward to snag a grip on him, but all their intended victim had to do to avoid them was lean backwards.

“How rude of me, I didn’t even introduce myself!” the glitch snickered, “The name is Digital Klezmer! Nice ta meetcha. Though it really don’ matta, I mean ya probably gonna die ‘ere too. Speakin’ o’ which, why’s you helpin’ that guy anyways? I thought you wanted ‘im dead.”

A gaster blaster that had the skull of some animal, maybe some sort of badger, appeared right beside Klezmer, aimed right at Error, ready to fire. Error mimicked the threat, doubling the amount of blasters on his end off the bat. His voice began to mutate, the tone fluctuating and basic voice changing dangerously. Error’s blasters fired.

“MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS!”

Klezmer’s blaster fired off its own blast but it had a secondary action, shielding Klezmer enough to escape, teleporting behind Error and sitting down on one of the pieces of blocky rubble, “Oh Error, don’ tell me dat ya think he’s ya friend! That he cares about ya!”

The fellow glitch cackled, “Oh, dat’s RICH!” He summoned several bones to impale Error, but Error summoned another blaster to take the hit, the bones going right through it before both weapons dispersed. 

Error bit his tongues. He wasn’t giving this freaking psycho more fuel to tend with. He already had more than enough to make Ink snap, and Error had to find that idiot squid before Digital Klezmer did.

He teleported back to where he and Ink were first dragged in, leaving Klezmer in the dust like he fucking deserved, only to find no sign of him there.

“IIIIINNNNNNNNNNNKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!” 

Error’s voice echoed off the Anti-Void’s floating walls and ruins, and he took to scouring the area close enough to the ‘floor’, keeping all his senses geared for any and every fucking noise that might give away the artist’s location. Ink was so fucking DEAD once he found them. He was so tempted to POP THAT LITTLE HEAD OFF THEIR MIDGET BODY AND CHUCK IT INTO THE NEAREST HOTLAND LAVAPOOL.

—----------

Klezmer sighed when he saw Error teleported away. He shook his head and teleported to a deeper part of his Anti-Void. He really wasn’t going to get an answer to that question, now was he. He knew where Ink was, but what was the fun of going after the guy directly?

Nah.

Too boring. He wanted to see them squirm.

So he settled himself in his seat at his piano and began playing one of his favorite songs, Altale. Whoever wrote that song was more insane than Katagma. It was an oddly upbeat song. But it was also oddly fitting for this little moment between the two knuckleheads he dragged here, letting their hopes rise with the song. Now all he had to do was keep playing. Sure, he was leaving himself as an ‘open target’. But who said he didn’t know everything that was going on in his own territory? Not him.

And like magic, his bait had an impressive effect, and of course it was the Inner Realm’s husk that took it the quickest.

Ink materialized next to him, and could have smacked him upside the head with what was left of his ginormous paintbrush if he didn’t dematerialize into raw code a second before.

Klezmer summoned a gaster blaster that bit down on Ink’s torso, as he spoke, “Oh buddy, I really thought ya had more brains than my husk. I really did. Thanks for correctin’ me.”

Once again, Ink didn’t answer. One of their own blasters was summoned, chomping down on Klezmer’s own and yanking it back, dislodging Ink from its grip. The artist’s namesake dripped to the floor, showing the enemy’s blaster did in fact cut through parts of his ribcage, staining his colorful clothing, but he didn’t seem to care about the weight of his own survival.

Then finally, the shortstack spoke up, his voice shaking with emotion, dominated by an overwhelming layer of rage.

“How dare you.”

They looked second to an animal, a feral beast. More ink leaked out between their barred teeth, some trails dripping from their sockets as the red of their eyelights glowed brighter.

But one look at their sash made it clear every one of their regular vials had already been drunk dry, and it was several days ago too. So the only source of this extra power could only be one thing, and Digital Klezmer already knew well.

Sketch had tried to kill Error before, when both stooges were in the Doodlesphere, and Sketch’s defeat led to the loss of its backpack. That was the only extra source of power Ink had access to.

Ink dropped Broomie, the tool useless to him and broken beyond use. Not even the bristles were in functional order anymore. Everything the artist was using now came directly from his body, from his will.

“I don’t know what hurt you this badly in the past, dude, but whatever you’re after now isn’t worth it. Seriously.”

“What I’m after isn’t worth it?” Klezmer cackled, rubbing his face under his glasses, he stopped almost as quickly as he had started, “Just die.” Two spears made of his strings appeared right from under Ink, unfurling and lifting him up to slam him down on another platform deep in the Anti-Void.

“I wanna reverse all negative creation.” Klezmer growled, “All of it! No more of dis needless sufferin’ ya view as cheap entertainment! And unfortunately I need dat useless guardian alive ta do it! Yous husks are nothin’ but a nuisance! Ya don’t feel, ya don’t care about nobody but yaselves! Hell, if yous an’ Error were ta make some stupid deal, ya’d grow bored of it instantly and jus’ find some bullshit loophole ta find somethin’ you think would be more entertainin’ ta yous and only you!”

The ribbon spears dragged the still tied up artist into a wall of the blocky rubble.

“And yous think that ya know anythin’?! I’ve watched ya long enough ta know that you’re only playin’ wit’ everyone’s emotions ‘ere! How long till ya get bored of Dream an’ Error? What about dem Swap-folk? How long till dey just bore ya? A week?! You’d probably drag a Dust over dere just for sick kicks! At least what I do is merciful, unlike yous!”

He let go of Ink to see if he’s still breathing. Letting the cloud of smoke from the destruction clear.

“Never…”

The second thing he got was a rough cough, but as the smoke cleared, Ink pulled himself back up, the ink in his body surfacing to repair the damage done to his body. Some of the artist’s clothing had been torn off, revealing tattoos that looked like random scribbles covering his lower arms and ribcage, and other discolored, gray patches of bone. The rage in their eyes didn’t subside.

“I will NEVER get bored of them. Not any one of them.”

He met Digital Klezmer’s eye, a spiteful smile gracing his face instead of the twisted snarl the glitch had plastered on it minutes ago. 

“But of course you won’t believe that, since you already profiled me based on the other guy that tried to kill my FRIEND, right? Who’s the dumbass now?”

Ink coughed again, dispensing a pool of ink at his feet as his body struggled to cope again with the amount of damage this new error wanted so badly to remain in place. This guy wasn’t at all like Error, Ink knew this now.

He was worse, really, and that was from a mostly unbiased opinion.

“I don’t care what you assume of me. I would have been devastated if it succeeded, and I would have been devastated all the same if Dream died too!”

The artist stretched his arms out, the ink creating another Broomie right in his waiting hands.

“So fuck you.”

The glitch stared at Ink, almost as though he was seeing the words Ink spoke right before him in material form. Klezmer couldn’t help but mentally compare Ink to Sketch, chuckling. “I guess you’re right. Ya ain’t nothin’ like Sketch. Unlike Sketch, ya don’t just show off your emotionlessness, or selfishness… well, not anymore… And you are right, I don’t believe you’ve changed. Whether or not you have actually started to understand tha sufferin’ of those around yous or even have a speck of empathy. But you definitely ain’t anythin’ like Sketch.”

He summoned several strings and drew them back from a ring that circled them like a giant slingshot.

“Dis… might sting a bit.”

He let go. The makeshift arrow shot right through Ink, impaling him straight through the sternum and the vertebrae leading behind it, but before Klezmer could do anything more with it, a blast of energy snapped it into pieces at the midpoint, Error’s cobalt blue strings were flung about the immediate area, snatching Ink away.

If Ink’s rage was considered animalistic, Error’s was a different lifeform entirely. The glitch’s eyesockets were clogged with his namesake, binary code spinning in his skull like miniature supercells, collecting more and more power to properly launch the amount of destruction it considered a basic portion. The creature before the two other skeletons snarled, the glitching only amplifying the volume and distorting it beyond recognition.

It was debatable if Error could speak properly in this state, with his body barely keeping itself in one piece, but somehow he managed navigating his way all the way here from the other side of the Anti-Void. 

“yOU SHOuLD KnoW BEtteR ThAN TO BREAK mY ThINgs.”

Ink could barely tell what the fuck dragged itself by its arms out of Error’s mouth, or if it even came out of his mouth in the first place. Before he knew it, his friend began to clog the area with electric blue strings, drowning their perception of the area in wires tying them down. Ink couldn’t get a word in, his body creaking under the weight and the tightness of what was, hopefully, a very temporary prison.

The sounds outside were muted to him, but he could figure they were fighting out there.

“--- .... / .-. . .- .-.. .-.. -.--?” Klezmer didn’t even open his mouth, rather the sound – the morse code just emanated from him. He didn’t seem to be shocked, rather his reaction was one that showed he knew what it was like to be in the very state Error was in.

He didn’t even struggle against the strings, rather he destablized himself and kept moving. Now he was the one on the run. Whether or not he had expected it was unknown.

Error pursued him immediately, blasting through entire walls of code that blocked his way. If he was saying anything, emitting any noise at all, it was unintelligible to him. Meaningless. 

He used to destroy everything he hated to fuel his will to live, including minor glitches distantly related to the monstrosity he truly was. But at the same time, none of it made sense. None of the semantics surrounding his past were important. Only the anomaly attempting escape before his eyes, destabilized code bunched together in a being that only knew suffering and grief, abandonment and anger.

So much like him but at the same time so, so different.

It was PATHETIC.

The entity let out a deafening roar behind Klezmer, causing the code closest to him to glitch out momentarily, then proceed to function as it was a second after.

Of course, not all gods went through life unchallenged. There were rules to the madness they shared and pain they carried. Rules not even they understood clear as crystal. 

Klezmer used one of his strings to create a portal only for himself, a split second to get far from Error and to a higher ground, where he made hundreds of spears of his strings and even fractured bones. All with their own rings of strings like crossbows, all aimed at Error. With a golden smirk, he let them loose, each one doing thrice the amount of damage they did to Ink. All the while he made a crossbow for himself. One he could wield. But this one wouldn’t shoot a spear or bone. Rather the sickle’s chain that was previously tied to his waist and now having a small sharp knife made of his strings to ensure it went right through his target.

“Didn’t think I’d ‘ave ta use dis…” he mumbled to himself. “But color me surprised… bastard got a bigger temper ‘dan Wiess.”

There was a click in the Anti-Void as the hurricane of projectiles chased their target, just a shift in the layout code, like something just went missing. 

Then, it was like the ‘ceiling’ grew a corn maze of red bones, stretching half a horizon across the new, demented plaza, connected to a million more blue strings. The ground shook with another haunting scream, and the source of the challenge pulled down the floodgates right behind Klezmer’s projectiles, snapping some in two every which way, cracking down on the ‘floor’ and disembodied walls, splitting some into smaller chunks than they were initially. Dust and grime filled the atmosphere, blocking a clear shot of wherever the target was.

Laughter without a direct source echoed off of what remained of the walls around them, morphing the acoustics and Klezmer couldn’t help but laugh alongside Error. He took aim with his crossbow as several portals opened up with more shots of the crossbow-spears and bones.

He saw the game Error was playing and he’d happily play along, but this was his domain, not Error’s. Thus, he knew every inch Error ran through. Every spot he paused. Every weak point. And thus, he fired the chain. With a rattling sound, it took off and the strings extended and extended further and farther than it would’ve otherwise, dragging the blade with it right towards Error’s soul.

The sickle wasn’t anything that the two idiots had ever faced. It was an Outer Realms specialty. A weapon that specifically did True Damage. There were specific damage types in the Outer Realms, and True Damage was a specialty that Klezmer had thanks to the weapon, specifically only the weapon really. It could bypass all resistances, all armor and specifically target the soul of the opponent, even going as far as latching onto it if the opponent could survive the attack. Meaning that they’d have the weapon stuck onto their soul and out for Klezmer to attack directly. It almost felt like cheating, but it wasn’t his fault someone was stupid enough to stand still long enough to get hit by it.

—------------

Ink made progress centimeter by centimeter, trying to ignore the sound of destruction, screams, and even more destruction. He thought back to the decay of Underfell, the compounding collapse of reality itself before everything imploded into white. Pure white.

He shivered and pressed on, cutting more divots into his bones in the process so more ink could join with the ‘floor’ underneath him.

Then came Error’s roar, the ring of the sound breaking his nonexistent ears, and then the ‘ground’ rumbled. Ink felt something slip under them, and the cocoon around them loosened, but not by much. They were a sitting duck like this, and whether Error wanted his help or not, Ink was convinced he’d die out there.

He had gotten an odd feeling this other Error was vastly more powerful than initially given credit when he was dragged kicking and screaming into this version of the Anti-Void, He didn’t know whether it had an actual name aside from that, but it’s not like they could afford to care, not when so much was at stake.

He wanted them both dead. He made that message abundantly clear.

Ink felt the hole in his sternum and vertebrae mend, and he could finally dematerialize enough to slip through the dozens of layers of strings that bound him. They knew they were getting weaker, having lost more paint than any other fight they could recall, and the migraine had come pounding in when he was dragged in this place too.

Error was right. They really didn’t have the position to fight in confidence here, but they doubted his impostor was manipulating either of them. The things he screamed several minutes ago were in complete confidence and backed with indescribable pain.

Think, Ink, think!

The ground rumbled again, knocking Ink back down in a pool of his own fluids. Another scream, and in the distance, he spotted one of the biggest walls in the area come crashing down, glitching back into the air in far more pieces than it started out as.

Summoning a gaster blaster, Ink jumped on its head and sped his way towards the ensuing fight, ripping off a lock of Error’s abandoned string as they zoomed by.

—-------------

Pain was the one thing Error knew best, but this was too much in one sitting. The glitch ripped out one of the stupid arrows that managed to snag him and snapped it in half, not bothering to watch the material crumble as he went to tend to another spot right next to it.

No matter how much his STATs fluctuated, flying up and down the border of 0 HP and MAXED HP to cope with the sheer amount of stress he just put his body through, Error felt it wouldn’t heal as quickly as he wanted it to, and it was just his luck that his sight cleared just enough before Klezmer pelted him with another barrage of projectiles, overloading his body.

He didn’t want to die like this, but begging was so far out of bounds of the question at hand that it was practically nonexistent, even as Klezmer shot another attack right at him, one the blur of his vision could not keep up with, not even if it were slowed down to fit his needs. 

It was gold. Thin and gold and probably heavy, but boy did it look ugly either way.

It was already too late when Error finally registered the real weight of what was to come, if it were even possible for him. The glitch jolted backwards, a wildfire of agony igniting his body in response to its inability to move and its broken down state.

Then a dark blue blur of his own strings shot its way across his vision, wrapping around the attack. Ink entered the edge of Error’s sight, tugging the chain in his direction, ending up in pieces.

It happened far too quickly for anyone to truly realize what exactly the situation was. The crunching of bone or the splatter of thick globules of ink splashing on the destroyed ground. The most that the two glitches got was the horror on Error’s face and sheer shock on Klezmer’s own, but the thud of the body was heard and the moment the black and gray gaster blaster turned to a pool of ink in an attempt to save its master.

In that moment the two glitches realized exactly what had happened.

Ink had jumped in front of the attack to protect Error, sacrificing himself to the blade of the sickle.

“INK!”

Error jumped and tried to catch Ink but barely made it in time, catching Ink’s husk in mere centimeters before it hit the ground – if one could call it that, considering it still somewhat did. Ink’s husk was flayed, sliced clean in half, only leaving behind the rib cage and up. The last bits of ink from the blaster served itself to heal its master as much as it could but it wouldn’t reawaken him.

“Nononononononono—” Error’s glitching getting worse and far more unstable the more he spoke.

All the while Klezmer couldn’t comprehend the sight before him.

Ink had jumped in front of a fatal shot just to save someone that wasn’t himself.

He didn’t even dare speak. But all he could do was mentally argue with himself to try to comprehend the situation and what to do about it. He took a long deep breath and tore open a portal, bringing his chain back to himself.

“I’m gonna regret dis later, I jus’ know it.” he thought to himself. Out of the portal he got a vial of mixed oil paints.

Carefully he walked over to the fellow glitch, placed the vial and used a string to teleport Error, the vial, and the husk out of the Anti-Void without issues. He stood alone for a moment before sitting down at his piano and played a song he had received from Katagma who got it from some random game… something called Laura Plays the Piano. Whatever game it was, he was told it was depressing.

As if…

As he played though, he couldn’t get the image of Ink jumping in front of the sickle out of his mind. No, emotionless husk would do that. Sketch wouldn’t do it even if someone paid him.

No. That Ink did feel. And he felt a lot. He stopped playing and sighed, “Yeah… fuck me. I am tha dumbass ‘ere, I suppose.”

—------------

His soul raced a million miles a second, a trillion miles a zeptosecond, and no matter what Error said or how much he screamed, the body in his hands didn’t respond or move. Not an inch. Not a millimeter. Nothing.

And even then, as far as Error was concerned, nothing outside of him and what used to be Ink mattered. 

The multiverse could burn.

It was like Error’s vision was set ablaze itself, both with glitches and tears he never thought he’d cry again, those blue-transparent pearls landing on Ink’s face, brushing away bits of their namesake, their blood. 

Error felt the ground below them change to something softer, and air clearer, holding the weight of life, but what use was it if his friend wasn’t here? The one person who bothered to spend time and energy on him since they met, regardless of how destructive his behavior was by itself, was doomed, and the glitch knew exactly why.

Ink was low on paints, their literal fucking lifeforce, but he would have rather died instead of him, even if he didn’t truly understand how hard he’d be hit, or how many pieces their little body would end up in. 

The destroyer’s vision began to black out, and Error heard the crunching of grass up ahead of them. 

Danger. Danger. DANGER. He came to finish the job.

“G-GET AWAY FROM US— I’M WARNING YOU!!!”

The figure in the distance was colossal, bearing the slight reflection of light glasses would get from the sun at just the right angle, and it was just tall enough to be the threat at hand. It hesitated, then continued with another step forward, its voice ringing in and out of Error’s fried senses.

“Hell–..-? A|3 y0– 0;ay…—-?”

Its shape muddled further, the darkness closing in. Error knew he summoned something, some degree of magic in an attempt to scare them off, but he didn’t get to witness the result.