#can i technically get intellectual rights to this? it's

[olderthannetfic]

Knitting question!

Intellectually I know failure is fine. I'm a beginner! I'm learning! Mistakes are part of the process! But I find it really hard not to be demotivated by projects not turning out how I want

I spent all this time and materials on this and it's just kinda shit?

Did you experience that/have any advice?

--

I definitely experienced that when I first tried knitting. I don't remember, but I suspect it's why I drifted away from the craft for nearly two decades.

I have a couple of semi-failures from my current re-entry into knitting. I intend to frog or partially frog them and re-knit, but there are other projects I care more about that are taking priority so far.

Right now, I love watching youtube videos with little tricks to improve one's knitting or deep dives into technical matters. I find information on fiber fascinating. I think that has helped me avoid many of the problems I experienced the first time around. Even if I run into an issue now, I can probably redo the project to make it how I want.

I think the first thing to figure out is how it's kind of shit. Yes, yes, you're a n00b, but there are lots of reasons projects turn out shitty. Some issues require a lot of practice. Many issues require reading a blog post explaining some technical thing and instantly upgrading your knowledge.

--

For example:

When I first got back into knitting, I got some pretty green yarn and made a Medieval-looking hood. I had no clue how alpaca behaved or that it would be waaaay too flowy for the look the pattern was supposed to have. I was also knitting the pattern with the wrong size of yarn, needle, etc. It turned out way too big for me and a formless blob. It was also itchy.

A year or two later, I threw it in the dryer, and now it's an epic rainy day hood. It's mostly not itchy because the felting stuck down all those hairy ends. It has a lot more body now because it's felt instead of flowy hand-knit alpaca. (And, hey, it's even more Medieval since those hoods were often felt but not often knitted as far as I could tell.)

What went wrong here was mostly that I knew fuckall about fiber. I knew I was making it in some randomass size and didn't really care that it was too big, but I didn't know it would slither off of me due to alpaca's drape. I didn't need practice: I needed someone to tell me how alpaca behaves.

--

Example 2:

I knit that Owls sweater and didn't like how it had no shaping... so I winged it. I ended up with really bizarre shaping because 1. I had no idea what I was doing and 2. I didn't close the underarm holes until the very end, so the sweater appeared to fit when I tried it on.

I could open the underarms back up and knit a separate piece for them, but I realized that I dislike the fabric overall. I knit it on a too-big needle (in my opinion). I thought I liked that looseness in my swatch, but I have changed my mind. I was also worried about running out of yarn (since it's a used yarn that I won't find again), but I had tons left over. I also think I want it more cropped. The yarn has a sort of nasty texture but beautiful color, and I knit quite a tight (and thus scratchy) sweater. I don't think I wet blocked it though, so that might fix the texture.

What I should actually do here, assuming I don't just get rid of the thing in favor of better yarn, is frog it and reknit from the top down, reversing the pattern and not having a phase with the underarms open like that. I should also knit it at a tighter gauge but with a little more positive ease, and I should trust that the stretchiness of wool will make it conform to my body just fine without a lot of shaping. Before any of that, I should wet block it and see how the texture changes.

I don't really consider this a permanent failure. I like the Owls themselves. I can easily just knit this again and get a sweater I want to wear... possibly a cardigan, now that I think about it. The yarn is a relatively robust wool that will be fine being frogged and reused, and knitting it gave me more experience with finishing a whole sweater. My various fuckups taught me things about both knitting and my personal taste.

I guess it could be demotivating because it took a while, but on that bigass needle, it really didn't take that long. I would probably always have knit multiple sweaters from this pattern. I see more than one in my future anyway.

Experience was an issue here, but it wasn't experience with the literal act of knitting. My tension was fine. It was more that I fucked around and found out.

--

Example 3:

I made a self-drafted BTS sweater out of another batch of used yarn that I'll never get more of. I love the body. the sleeves are too tight in the upper arm, and my bizarre-ass design for the top of the body means that the sweater wants to be a boat neck but also fit differently in the sleeves and... gaaaaah. The tight sleeves don't feel bad, but what they do do is make the whole sleeve slide down my arm weirdly because of the fit issues around the boat neck.

Part of why the upper arm area is so tight is that I was worried I'd run out of yarn (which I did) and I wanted a balloon sleeve rather than a straight one. The yarn is so stiff that the balloon part is weird, and the two other purple yarns I added for the lower sleeve look weird. I should have reversed their order because one matches too well, and now it just looks like I ran out and had to add a last inch in a random other yarn. I have most of those two skeins left hanging around and a sweater that fits strangely.

Also... it needs hand washing but is shaped and sized to be worn against bare skin, so it gets stinky after a few hours of wear because I am a sweaty, sweaty person.

In this case, I wouldn't redo the body: this silk blend will look less nice after frogging, and I already roughed it up a lot knitting the damn thing the first time. I knit it starting at the top, so the weird fit across the shoulders is mostly here to stay.

However, I'm pretty sure the bad fit on the sleeves can be fixed by ripping back and adding a bunch of width up top. I can also start with the flowier other two yarns and maybe have bands of this stiffer one that I used in the body. I suspect the weird body fit is fixable by changing what the sleeves are supposed to be doing.

This is another case of fucking around and finding out, so I'm not too disappointed in it. I did wear it to Yoongi's concert too, and it was gorgeous, if too hot.

I do realize now that I hate boat necks, but I think I can put up with this one if the sleeves aren't constantly sliding out of place.

And if fixing the sleeves doesn't rescue this, I might attempt some surgery one of these days, but that's more of a pain in the ass, so that will definitely have to wait.

--

Now, my guess is that your "kind of shit" is not "I freehanded a sweater two seconds after getting back into knitting because I'm a crazy person, and I messed up the shaping".

The more common problems are things like:

Not realizing that you should block or not blocking aggressively enough, so your stitches look way more uneven than they need to, the shape is weird compared to the example pics in the pattern, etc.

Using assy bind-offs so the edge looks amateur instead of polished. (You can go back and fix this.)

Failing to swatch, and now you've knit the wrong size.

Picking a fiber that just cannot do what you want it to—usually seen in people trying to avoid wool and not getting that 99.999999% of trendy patterns are written specifically for wool. I have an ancient sweater from college that looks nothing like the example in the book because all I could afford was big box store acrylic. Never again the plastic horror!

Buying patterns from a size 0 lifestyle blogger aspirational knitwear designer with no boobs and a great photographer, then feeling dumpy when trying the thing on under crappy lighting. This one usually requires a little more self confidence and some bust darts.

Making things in plain stockinette in a light color and smooth yarn like cotton that shows EVERY SINGLE TIME your tension wasn't machinelike. This is unfixable. Don't do this.

--

If you're using mohair or alpaca, frogging may be more trouble than it's worth, but you often can reuse the materials. Granted, you've still sunk that time in, but the materials don't always have to be wasted. That might help it feel more like time you spent practicing and less like a complete disaster.

I'm a very product-focused knitter, so I don't really have practice pieces. I'm knitting to have a Thing and I want to wear that Thing, so I get the disappointment if you don't end up wanting to actually use what you've made.

But that also helps me not get totally demotivated. I still want that Thing and now I have a clearer idea how to make it.

So... what are these "kinda shit" projects anyway? What about them do you not like?

[soulsxng]

Archetypes quiz | Tarinx edition!

41% Rebel: The Rebel is comfortable throwing caution to the wind—and bucking the system—if that means getting their point across.

25% Athlete: The Athlete's focus and drive are unparalleled. Staying healthy and being fit are paramount to them (as for winning, that doesn't hurt, either).

24% Explorer: The Explorer is drawn to the unknown, whether that’s a Himalayan peak or the road not taken, and have a thirst for adventure. They take journeys, not vacations.

[cripplecharacters]

Hi! I’m working on an original character project that I want to include a lot of casual representation in (“casual” meaning that the characters don’t need a justification for being disabled/fat/POC/etc, they just are because people can and do exist that way in reality!)

I was wondering if you had any suggestions for finding resources for drawing facial differences(and maybe other visible disabilities), especially in a cartoony style. I’ve looked through the Facial Equality Week tag but would like to see more examples, and since my art is so… goofy, for lack of a better word, I would love any help I can get in integrating differences without being offensive or upsetting.

Sorry if this is a bother, and thank you for all that you do!

Hi!

I'm not aware of any guides for drawing facial differences specifically (or at least, good ones. There's 1 billion tutorials telling you that scars are just a Singular Line, always, but that's not... correct), but perhaps someone in the notes could help out?

For my own advice, you could check out this old post I made. Because you mentioned your art being cartoony, I would specifically urge you to not overexaggerate facial differences the way they often are. Prime example would be how a lot of cartoons portray strabismus;

It's just a funny gag to them rather than, IDK, how some of us look like. Not to mention that one of these is also a mockery of intellectually/developmentally disabled people with "Derp" in the name, but that's beside the point here.

It's the whole "the character is crazy/stupid/wild/whatever and that's why they have it" that's the problem with how it's often shown. You can also see it in how characters who don't even normally have it will be shown with it for a scene where they're saying something nonsensical, etc.

Another example that's nowhere near as rampant is the like... split-face thing with various facial differences being used. Mostly vitiligo but sometimes also facial palsy. I'm talking about this weirdly perfectly halved face that looks extremely different on each side, often used to signal that a character is two-faced or that the author doesn't know how vitiligo looks like.

[note: vitiligo also shows up on lighter skin. I wanted to make sure it's visible here for tutorial clarity purposes.]

This one is just weird because it straight up doesn't look like that? I have no idea where it came from, but it should go back there. Facial palsy doesn't make someone look like the antique comedy/tragedy theater mask.

Unless I'm forgetting some other annoying cartoon trope, these would be the big ones that you should stay away from.

Outside of that, it's really on a case by case basis on how a specific FD should be drawn because they're so different! A birthmark can just be a differently colored patch of skin, but a craniofacial difference would require some more changes to be included. Alopecia is well, lack of hair, and can be done very easily but ectrodactyly can be more complicated to show properly because of the limitations of a cartoony artstyle when it comes to hands. And while I do think it would be great to see more of those facial differences that tend to not be included in art at all, there's nothing wrong with deciding to go for the things you can represent more faithfully, especially if you're just starting.

I will say that if you're making an honest attempt at being respectful and trying to get it right, most of us will still be excited to see your work. Even if it's not perfect or has some inaccuracies. I will take a "'yeah more or less' correct with a happy, human character" over a "Very Technically correct but tagged as #tw burns and with blood splattered on them" any day.

Lastly, I wanted to share some art featuring characters with facial differences (and other visible disabilities) that are done in a cartoony, or at least somewhat simplistic artstyles (I'm using both terms very widely here, but like. Not Realism) - maybe it will give you some ideas!

Man with Treacher Collins syndrome (also one of the first pieces online where I saw a character with an FD portrayed in such a lovely way! A fav of mine) Girl with Pfeiffer syndrome Too many characters to count! Woman with burns Woman with a limb difference Multiple characters again Animation featuring people with Down syndrome [youtube] Multiple characters, including a girl with neurofibromatosis, a burn survivor, a girl with a cleft lip and another with TCS! [twitter]

If you have a more specific art question ("how do I draw a person with XYZ facial difference?") you can send me an ask on @saszor! I prefer to stick to the writing theme on this blog but would still like to help if you need it:-)

Hope this helps!

mod Sasza

Edit: apologies for the lack of alt text on one of the images, it has been fixed!

[qqueenofhades]

I understand how important it is to be able to criticize the President, and am not at all of the belief he should be beyond critique, but the critiquing of Biden makes me so nervous. (That's not to say I agree with every decision he's made - I absolutely do not). But I feel like people see things he's done wrong and decide they won't vote for him because of it. I'm not sure if enough people have the ability to see that he's done things wrong but also is our only hope of staving off literal fascism.

So many people talk about how sick they are of it constantly being a lesser of two evils situation, constantly having to vote for a candidate they hate because the other side is worse (I heard it in 2020, 2022, etc), and I guess I just- I don't really get it? We're here because they didn't do that in 2016. All of this could've been avoided had the result been different then. I just feel like people don't comprehend how different of a place we'd be in if Hillary won and engage in all this cognitive dissonance to make themselves feel better about being part of the reason she didn't.

Like.... this has been a long-running topic of discussion on my blog, not least because it is so inexplicable and maddening. It also shows how terribly shallow most people's understanding of the American political process is, and how toxic the "I can only vote for a candidate if every single personal belief/position of theirs matches mine" belief is, as well as how much damage it has done to American democracy even (and indeed, especially) by people who technically don't identify as right-wing. Yell at Republicans all you like (God knows I do, because they're the worst people on earth) but they vote. Every time. Every election. Every candidate. Whereas the Democratic electorate still holds out for Mister Perfect, and it very definitely is Mister Perfect. The amount of "evil HRC!!!" Republican-poisoned Kool-Aid that so-called progressives drank in 2016, and then afterward when they insisted they could have voted for someone like Elizabeth Warren and then didn't do that in 2020, is... baffing.

Frankly, I don't care if Hillary Clinton's personal positions on XYZ issue were the most Neoliberal Corporate Centrist Shill to Ever Shill (and Online Leftists' intellectual skills being what they are, I seriously doubt that they were using any of those words correctly and/or accurately). American policy is not made by "personal dictate of the ruler," or at least it shouldn't be, because we are not an absolute monarchy. We rely on the operation of a system with input from many people. As such, if Hillary had been elected, we would have 2-3 new liberal justices on SCOTUS and have secured civil and environmental rights for the next generation. Roe would be intact, and all the other terrible rulings that SCOTUS has recently handed down wouldn't have happened. We wouldn't have had January 6th, the attempt to stage a coup, all the tawdry scandals, our national security being at risk because of Trump stealing classified documents and probably selling them to Russia and/or Saudi Arabia, etc etc. If you think that's in any way an equivalent amount of evil to what would have happened if Hillary was elected, or if she was "still evil!!!," then I honestly don't know what to tell you. She could fucking murder puppies in her spare time if she had preserved SCOTUS for us, WHICH SHE WOULD HAVE, BECAUSE SHE WARNED US EXACTLY WHAT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN.

(Hoo. Sorry. Still steamed. 2016 war flashbacks, again.)

In short, Hillary would have been a solid continuity Democrat and she would have signed whatever legislation a Democratic House and Senate passed, not to mention been hugely inspiring as the first female president. But because it's so important to the Online Leftists' moral sense of themselves that BOTH PARTIES ARE THE SAME!!!, they can't possibly acknowledge that ever being a factor, and/or admit that they have any culpability in not voting for her in 2016. It's like when you read the British press about any of the UK's equally numerous problems, and they BEND OVER BACKWARD to avoid mentioning that Brexit might be a factor. They just can't mention it, because then that means they might have made the wrong choice in pulling for it as hard as they did, and blah blah Sovereignty.

Basically, if HRC had been elected president, everything would be so much less terrible and terrifying all the time, we would be talking about her successor in 2024 as someone else who could be the "first," we could explore handing the reins over to Kamala as a Black/Asian woman, we could promote Buttigieg as the first gay president, etc etc. But because 2016 was so catastrophically fucked up, we are in damage control mode for the immediate future and every election is just as pivotal. And yet, because people think that the only thing that matters is a presidential candidate's personal views, we're stuck having the same old arguments and desperately begging people over and over to please vote against fascism, since that somehow isn't self-evident enough on its own. Yikes on Bikes.

[metamorphesque]

I don't know how unpopular this opinion is but I strongly hold the position that society today seems unable to differentiate "Art" from entertainment, and this blurring of lines harms both. _ what do you mean?

What I mean to say is that society nowadays fails to recognize the fundamental differences between art and entertainment. Thinking that they are the same or interchangeable does a disservice to both. To me, it's not an "art vs. entertainment" situation. Rather than opposing them, the distinction lies in recognizing their complementary roles because a healthy individual needs both art and entertainment, but for very different reasons.

Entertainment, of course, entertains us; it delights and validates us by affirming our existing beliefs and emotions. It's there to make us feel good — a safe space that doesn't challenge us, as it has been created specifically for our needs and is catering to our preferences. However, it leaves us unchanged and not transformed. Entertainment is produced because there is a public demand for it.

Art, on the other hand, is meant to change and transform us. It's not always delightful, entertaining or self-affirming. On the contrary, it can sometimes feel like an attack on our beliefs and the reality we think we’re living in. Art can be uncomfortable, even disruptive, and by being so, it forces us to engage with it on a deeper level, challenging our perspectives and encouraging us to evolve. Unlike entertainment, art is not made because there is public demand for it. To be more precise, the demand for art exists, but it doesn't come from us — the public; art meets the demands of the time. Real artists are those who can discern the lessons and demands of the time and make them digestible for the public. While entertainment caters to an audience’s desires, art challenges its audience, often presenting ideas or emotions they may not have asked for but need to confront. It’s not about pleasing or fulfilling expectations; instead, art serves as a catalyst for intellectual and emotional growth, pushing society to reflect, adapt and progress.

My beloved Armenian poet Paruyr Sevak has a very thought-provoking piece that, I think, is about real artists. I'll present a rough translation: "They come unoften, yet never too late. / They are born at exactly the right time. / And they get ahead of time itself, / Which is why they are not forgiven".

The role of a true artist goes far beyond technical skill or the ability to produce aesthetically pleasing works that will be liked by many and, thus, make a fortune. A true artist serves as a visionary, a truth-teller and a catalyst for change. They push us to reflect deeply and think critically about the world around us. This is why, in the absence of such people (and I strongly believe that we live in such times), individuals become more susceptible to propaganda, manipulation or conformity, as there are fewer voices prompting them to critically examine their environment. Additionally, without these voices, society loses touch with its emotional depth, becoming more disconnected, indifferent and apathetic to the suffering or experiences of others.

True artists are what we need today. There are many discussions held online about whether today’s celebrities should address "political" issues and the problems we face as humans.

My answer to this is no, at least not for everyone that society considers an "artist." Most of these individuals are mere entertainers who are there solely for entertainment purposes (I would be quick to add that some of them even fail at that). Dozens of them can't even form comprehensive sentences in their mother tongues; how can we expect them to express trustworthy opinions on grave issues? This is one of the reasons why it is highly dangerous to confuse entertainment with art.

[suzukiblu]

Fic concept! AKA another soulmate AU. Working title: "kidnapping your soulmate for fun and profit".

Tim meets Superboy--Robin meets Superboy--and it goes, like . . . fine, he guesses. It's fine. They fight Metallo and Poison Ivy and don't die, though Superboy kinda looked like he wanted to when the kryptonite ring was happening to him.

Tim is a thorough little Bat-bastard, of course, so the day after all that goes down, he breaks into Cadmus. Well--breaks into their system, anyway. He figures knowing more about Superboy for the inevitable next time they meet up won't hurt, considering. Fully understanding potential allies' capabilities is--

There's photos in Superboy's file.

This would be completely irrelevant to everything, if those photos weren't specifically of Superboy's soulmark, which is so invasive and offensive that Tim feels kind of sick.

And also if that soulmark weren't the exact same one that showed up on him a few months back.

Well . . . okay, that's a . . . thing.

Tim has several sexuality crisises at once, then remembers platonic soulmates exist. But also he immediately had the sexuality crisises instead of ever thinking of platonic soulmates as being an option, which does not bode well for the "platonic"-ness of this particular soulmark.

Well, that's a whole thing now, he guesses.

Then he remembers that Poison Ivy kissed and mind-controlled Superboy. And also that Superboy, like, lives with his manager. His creepy, not very responsible, easily-blackmail-able manager. And also just . . . everything else he knows about the guy's life. Everything. All at once.

Tim has several more crisises and then calls Dick Grayson to freak out on him.

Tim: Is it ethical to kidnap your own soulmate and does that even matter if they're not legally a person and so you couldn't actually be charged for anything anyway? I mean, B can't get mad at me for doing it if the courts can't get me for doing it, right?

Dick: I'm sorry, Superboy's not legally a person?

Tim: Nope! Which neither Cadmus nor the sleazebag selling his likeness for a living has in any way tried to correct, for the record. Technically he's classified as intellectual property, but Cadmus forfeited legal possession when Superman turned up alive again, presumably to avoid Superman ever finding out that they'd had said legal possession, so technically if I went and kidnapped him it'd be more like . . . salvage, maybe? Like, in the eyes of the law, I mean.

Dick: Yeah, okay, in that case kidnapping your own soulmate might be less an ethics question and more a moral obligation.

Anyway, Nightwing-assured Tim immediately grabs his go-bag and goes to Hawaii to make his kidnapping plans. Like, he's just gonna start soft-planning something, nothing concrete yet. Obviously it's going to take a lot of work to get a cocky half-Kryptonian teenage clone with authority issues and an inflated ego kidnapped by a lone Robin, and--

Five minutes later "normal civilian" Tim Drake meets Superboy on the street after a supervillain attack and Superboy's soulmark is just on full display where his suit's ripped.

And a Bat knows when to take a perfectly-presented opportunity, obviously. He still can't actually kidnap Superboy yet, but he can tell him they're soulmates as a "civilian" and then--

Five minutes after that, Tim's on a plane back to Gotham with a perfectly agreeable and actually much more chill than he was when they were fighting supervillains together Superboy, and just does not understand his life at all.

Also maybe he should've, like . . . called Bruce about the apparently very ride-or-die Kryptonian that he's currently moving into his city? Just . . . at some point . . . ? Possibly?

Whoops.

[shepherds-of-haven]

Hello! You’ve talked before about having experience with professional writing/publishing, so you seem like a good person to ask. I’ve seen authors say that they avoid reading/interacting with fanfiction of their work due to “possible legal issues,” but I’m not actually sure what law they’re referring to. Is this something that you’re familiar with, or advice you’ve come across before? Why would fanfiction be an issue if something like fanart isn’t? Thank you in advance if you have the time to answer!

Hi there, thanks for your question! This is actually something I've had a lot of interest in over the years, partly because I (at one point) was planning on going to law school to potentially become a copyright/intellectual property lawyer, and partially because I have some personal connections to things that happened in this arena (my agent was the agent of an affected author at some point in the past, my publisher or senior editors knew so-and-so), and also, I grew up reading fanfiction, so I've heard concerns on both sides of this issue.

To boil it down succinctly, there is no outright law that prevents authors from reading fanfiction of their own work. However, doing so can become messy in ways that many authors would rather avoid, and there is one famous example of where this went awry and scared authors off of reading fanworks of their own work.

In the US, all authors automatically gain copyright and intellectual ownership over their writing/original content, from the moment they put it into physical form (writing it or typing it). They don't have to do anything to register this right: it just automatically exists, and with it comes a few special rights.

Authors have the right to:

Reproduce or make copies of their work

Distribute copies of their work to the public, in whichever manner they choose (sell, rent, etc.)

Publicly display or perform the work (post, print, act, etc.)

Create derivative works from that work (sequels, adaptations, spin-offs)

License or sell any of these rights to others.

(It should be noted that copyright applies to specific expressions, not ideas. The specific details of your work, including the plot, characters, worldbuilding, text, and other unique aspects are protected. General ideas, tropes, themes, or concepts are not. A story about a magical school, a "chosen one" protagonist who discovers hidden powers as he gets older, or a bearded mentor who's killed at some point in the story are tropes that can't be copyrighted. However, a magical school with a specific personality-based house system, or a bespectacled dark-haired boy with a lightning-shaped scar, can. This isn't just a name thing, either, but covers features like personalities, unique characteristics, and character arcs. Hence "expression" versus "idea." Universal Studios even has a trademark on their specific expression of Frankenstein's monster (flat-top head, bolts in his neck, lumbering walk) - but that's only because the original copyright on Frankenstein itself has lapsed.)

Anyway, so authors have rights over their intellectual property. Pretty simple, right? Except, under this field of law, that means other people--including people who make fanworks--don't have the technical rights to this intellectual property. (They definitely don't have the right to make money off of it, unless they receive permission.) Because fanworks like fanfiction use protected elements like characters, worlds, and terms, they're derivative works, which technically only the author of the work has the right to create.

(Since I'm trying to keep my answer brief, you can read more about derivative works below the cut.) [1]

Many authors explicitly allow fan-made derivative works (aka fanfiction and fanart) of their fiction to be made anyway, with some obvious disclaimers (don't make money off of it, don't claim the original author wrote it, etc.). However, others are under the impression (or have been advised legally) that granting this permission could hurt them in the long run. They've been led to believe that if they don't "vigorously defend their own copyright," they will lose that copyright and all the rights that go with it (including say over how their work is used, where the profit goes, etc.). They believe they could lose in court if someone else plagiarizes them or steals their work and profits from it or uses their work in a way that they don't agree with (like depicting their popular character as homophobic); they will have no legal recourse, because they gave others permission to make derivative works of their story. I don't know how well-founded this fear is in a historical precedent sense, but I know it's rampant especially among older authors in the industry (for reasons I'll get into below), and I also know that legal battles do get really messy if it's not just "I said no, unequivocally, but you did it anyway." Granting permission in some cases (fanfiction) but not others (fanfiction that upsets you, or conflicts with your moral convictions, or hurts your product or its sales, or unfairly makes money off of your property) creates a really gray area in court, so some authors prefer just not to take chances and will blanket-ban derivative works of their stuff unequivocally.

(For a useful page on which authors explicitly encourage fanworks and which ones outright ban it, click here.)

Now, even for the authors who allow fan-made derivative works of their writing (which includes me!), there are many who are leery of actually reading it. Why? Long story short, this is referred to in the industry as the MZB incident.

I've heard different accounts of this story, but I'll boil it down to the bullet points that I know of:

In the 1980s, an author named Marion Zimmer Bradley (who is coincidentally (?) a horrid, awful criminal for other reasons) was a popular fantasy author who was extremely involved in her own fanfiction community. She actively encouraged fanfiction of her world and stories, and even edited a fanzine based off of this world, and was an overall enthusiastic and friendly collaborator and mentor to burgeoning fic writers, whom she invited to play in her setting as a sandbox. She was considered to be one of the biggest public champions of fanfiction at the time.

In one version of the story, a fan, Jean Lamb, sent one of her fanfics (published in a fanzine) to MZB. Some time later, the fan noticed that MZB was writing a new novel that had thematic and plot similarities to her own fanfic. The fan alleged that MZB had plagiarized her ideas, and fearing a potential legal battle, MZB stopped writing that book, developed writer's block, and never did work on that series ever again. This was a horrifying cautionary tale to all authors who witnessed it and essentially spelled the end of that fictional world (Darkover) for good.

In another version of the story, MZB received a copy of the fanzine from Jean Lamb, saw that Jean's story coincidentally focused on a character and time period that MZB herself was focusing on for her upcoming sequel, and she was stopped from continuing on the book by her publisher, who feared legal troubles. (This one is the one that makes the least sense to me, and I've personally heard it from others that this was not how things went down.)

In the last version of the story, MZB received a copy of the fanzine from Jean Lamb, really liked the ideas or interpretations she saw in it, and wanted to incorporate elements into the series' official canon, writing back to ask for permission to do this, like, "Hey, I really liked your take on so-and-so, can I put that in the new book with credit to you in the dedication and 500$?" She had apparently done this with other willing fans before. However, rather than the honored response she was expecting, Jean Lamb wrote back asking for more money and co-authorship on the cover, and MZB apparently got leery that if any similarities to the idea cropped up in her writing in the future, the whole thing would tailspin legally and she'd be accused of plagiarism. In short, the well had been tainted, and you can't just "forget" you saw a cool idea, and the fan knows you saw it, so if they get a whiff that the cool idea influenced you even in subconscious ways, they could be entitled to compensation. Or maybe just being "banned" from writing something in her own world because someone else claimed ownership to it soured MZB on the whole thing. Either way, she quit writing the series and banned all fanfiction of her work soon after.

The MZB was a big hullabaloo in both the professional author world and the fanfiction community at the time, and it's principally cited as the main reason why authors shouldn't read fanfiction of their own work. (You can read George R.R. Martin's summation of the story and why he doesn't allow fanfiction because of it below the cut.) There's a fear that if you accidentally get exposed to something--an interpretation, an idea, a take on your character or world--it becomes really unclear whose idea is whose, and the copyrights could overlap, and then you'll lose ownership over your own world, story, and characters. Even if you don't officially "incorporate" a fan's idea into the work like MZB allegedly wanted to, but instead come up with something on your own or were planning it all along, but it's known you also read fanfiction of your own work, there is no way of proving that you were already planning on doing the thing or were inspired by something totally different; a bad actor could claim you read their fanfic at some point and plagiarized it, so many authors choose to avoid the whole headache and protect themselves by just not reading fanfiction of their work at all, so as to not muddy the waters. [3]

I hope that all makes sense! This is already getting long, but I'll just wrap up by adding that I wrote all of this to answer your question--why some authors prefer not to read fanfiction of their own work--but I will add that I'm personally on the side of authors who support fanfiction and fanart (so long as no one's out to harm the original creator), and that I hope never to be proven wrong! :D

[1] Derivative works can in turn be protected under something called "fair use law." "Fair use" is generally broken down into four considerations:

Purpose and character of the derivative work. Things like parody, scholarship, commentary, and critique are protected are under fair use law. Also, things like whether the derivative work is non-commercial or transformative are also taken into consideration. A transformative work that significantly alters the characters and world of the original work (so how 50 Shades of Grey was ultimately totally different from Twilight, even though it started off as Twilight fanfiction) could be considered fair use. Likewise, if someone posts a free fanfic on, like, their Livejournal somewhere, it clearly isn't intending to hurt anyone or make a profit off of someone else's work, so it might be protected. This first consideration is generally the largest "protection" fanfiction has in the area of fair use, though it's hugely subjective and a matter of great debate: fanworks are by no means something that's unilaterally protected. But in short, if the purpose of a derivative work is not to profit from something, but to add new insight or transform it in some way instead of just ripping it off word-for-word for profit, it may be allowed under fair use.

Nature of the original work. A highly creative original work (like a novel or a film) is due more copyright protection than something like a newspaper article.

Amount and substantiality. If fanfiction uses substantial portions of the original work, especially the "heart" of it (such as key characters or plotlines), it is less likely to be considered fair use. If 30% of your work is just original text from the copyrighted work, your derivative fanwork may not be considered fair use.

Effect upon market's value. If a fanwork or fanfiction becomes competitive or harmful with the original work in any way, especially in a commercial sense (for example, fans are less likely to buy official sequels or licensed works because the niche is being filled by a fanfic), it probably won't be protected under fair use.

Even with all of this, there has been no case law that squarely addresses fanfiction in relation to fair use: it's all been judged by a case-by-case basis only. From this article: "works of fanfiction are more likely to constitute fair use if they are "transformative" with respect to the original work, if they are non-commercial, if they appropriate relatively little of the original work, and/or if they do not tend to detract from the potential market for or value of the original work."

Want some more interesting ways about the whacky ways fiction and fanfiction have intersected with the gray areas of fair use? Check out:

The My Immortal Memoir

The Larry Niven incident (and other legal issues with fanfiction)

Ship It, a fictional novel based on a real-life incident in the Supernatural fandom where a fanfic writer/shipper got shut down by one of the Supernatural actors when she asked him about homoerotic subtext in Supernatural... it's Ficception!

[2] GRRM's summary of the MZB incident in 2010:

Myself, I think the writers who allow fan fiction are making a mistake. I am not saying here that the people who write fan fiction are evil or immoral or untrustworthy. The vast majority of them are honest and sincere and passionate about whatever work they chose to base their fictions on, and have only the best of intentions for the original author. But (1) there are always a few, in any group, who are perhaps less wonderful, and (2) this door, once opened, can be very difficult to close again.

Most of us laboring in the genres of science fiction and fantasy (but perhaps not Diana Gabaldon, who comes from outside SF and thus may not be familiar with the case I am about to cite) had a lesson in the dangers of permitting fan fiction a couple of decades back, courtesy of Marion Zimmer Bradley. MZB had been an author who not only allowed fan fiction based on her Darkover series, but actively encouraged it... even read and critiqued the stories of her fans. All was happiness and joy, until one day she encountered in one such fan story an idea similar to one she was using in her current Darkover novel-in-progress. MZB wrote to the fan, explained the situation, even offered a token payment and an acknowledgement in the book. The fan replied that she wanted full co-authorship of said book, and half the money, or she would sue. MZB scrapped the novel instead, rather than risk a lawsuit. She also stopped encouraging and reading fan fiction, and wrote an account of this incident for the SFWA FORUM to warn other writers of the potential pitfalls of same.

That was twenty years ago or thereabouts, but that episode had a profound effect on me and, I suspect, on many other SF and fantasy writers of my generation.

[3] It would be like if a fan sent the Hunger Games author a fanfic that involved Katniss and Peeta's kids, Suzanne Collins was already in the midst of writing or was planning to write a sequel with Katniss and Peeta's kids, the two stories had significant overlap, and now Suzanne Collins feels like she can't publish the sequel as-is without either significantly redoing things just for the sake of being different from the fanfiction, or being accused of plagiarism by the fan. Better, in Suzanne Collins' mind, to never come into contact with fanfiction at all, and have both plausible deniability and an untainted well.

[firstfullmoon]

In 1981, Israeli Mossad agents assassinated Palestinian Liberation Organization member, writer, and intellectual Majed Abu Sharar in his hotel room in Rome. Abu Sharar was a close friend of the Palestinian poet and writer Mahmoud Darwish. In 1984, in his collection A Siege for the Eulogies of the Sea (Hissar li-Mada’h el-Bahr), Darwish included the final version of his long elegy to his friend, “The Final Meeting in Rome.” This poem in particular is largely untranslatable in English. The untranslatability is not so much due to the technical demands of the surreal lyric’s transformation of song into an act of liberation. Instead, the untranslatability relates primarily to the question of audience. There remains little room in English to receive openly, unequivocally, the freedom song of Palestinians in its myriad forms.

But I can simplify all this jargon in a single word, a name: Majed. Majed’s name permeates the text of “The Final Meeting in Rome.” In a moment of genius, in the penultimate section of the text, Darwish explodes language with his friend’s name through an unexpected refrain—as if Darwish had been writing the previous pages for the sole purpose of arriving at this stanza: “Good morning, Majed, / good morning, / get up to recite Surat al-‘Aaed.”

In the Quran, there is no chapter, or Surah, titled al-‘Aaed—a word that means the returnee. Some may argue that one solution for translating the stanza would reside in changing Majed’s name to Ali, for example, so that the impact of the rhyme is maintained: Ali/the Surah of the returnee. But that is self-deluding. English, much as it likes to argue otherwise, still struggles to accept at least two major points about this linguistic construct in Arabic. The first is the beautiful, divine presence of the Quran to elegize a Palestinian martyr (irrespective of their religious affiliation, if any). The second is the Palestinian right of return, dead and alive.

Darwish stuns his audience by blurring the boundaries of blasphemy. He is not echoing a specific Quranic text. He elevates the Palestinian question to touch the moral arc that bends toward justice in the universe. He delivers a mystical experience no one objects to in Arabic. He invents a Surah in the Quran and attributes its title to his “friend, brother, and last love.” The entire Palestinian body in one named Majed. The entire human history of return in a Surah.

Among the poem’s memorable lines, there is this couplet: “As if I could protect my heart / from hope. My heart is ill.” This ailing heart arrives near the end of the poem and disseminates into Palestinian flesh. What Darwish manages to describe, in topical yet visionary manner, is astounding, precisely because the poem does not claim to see the future. Yet here we are, more than forty years later, and every word of the closing salvo that I have translated is true.

I took liberties with this last, translatable section of “The Final Meeting in Rome.” Since one aspect of the original untranslatability is in the name—Majed—I clearly see that today, Gaza is the untranslatable name in the poem.

[oneslimybastard]

Another underutilized aspect of N, Natural Harmonia Gropius himself, is that he's conceptualized as not just a Math Guy, but a Math Genius if we go by some interview trivia notated on Bulbapedia.

It clearly shows in the way he speaks since his (translated) dialogue (idk about the original japanese one) is full of hamfisted references to formulas and frustration expressed when the chaos of the world does not align with them — which to me is like, the core of his character, something that makes him both An Asshole to deal with but also a very intellectually curios and creative individual. It's just a brand of creativity not a lot of people can keep up with nor understand.

N likes math because a lot of math is about clearly defined variables and their relationship to one another. If you come across an inconsistency that doesn't fit any prior definitions, you iron out a new definition and suddenly the field has expanded upon itself tenfold. It aligns with how his Very Autistic Brain functions, x + y = z, if I do x to y then z will happen. If z doesn't happen, then that just means I have to identify the hidden variables within the exchange and rewrite the formula to be more accurate.

Black and White's quality of writing is. Like pokémon often is. Questionable at best. The foundations are there but the execution is dumbed down and corny because it's still aimed at kids, BW in specific really cutting the theme of pokémon trainer ethics short in favor of just "dang u beat me in the pogiebattle guess ur right!". How-ev-er. In my head, and the reason why I still find the plot of those games compelling (aside for my unhinged thirst for goth man-milf Ghetsis) is that to me they're about local cult-raised autist Normal Henry Gropus bashing his head against the world over and over to desperately try and make the formulas make sense, to distill it into variables he can understand and predict on a consistent basis, and failing miserably at it. Because even if the world is Technically made up of a bunch of chemistry that you could, in theory, predict, there's just a lot of random noise in there from microscopic complexities that fuck everything up.

Pokémon are simpler creatures (discounting the eerily intelligent ones) who will be nice enough to behave like math problems most of the time. Humans rarely extend that grace, the more N studies them like a science project the more contradictory variables pop up. They have a million thoughts in their head he doesn't have access to, that brew into feelings he doesn't understand, which leads to actions he can't do a proper traceback through. Which is frustrating, devastatingly frustrating. At least at first.

Due to how BW2 pans out and my own yearning for thematic mirroring, whereas Ghetsis gives in to the Autistic Bitterness over all these NTs he doesn't fuckign understand, I like to think N develops a sort of joy in studying people like the impossibly complex math problems we are. Because he likes math, he likes figuring shit out, he likes buying a nightmare rubik's cube and charting the squares out on a nightmare variable graph (listen i am not a math guy. i respect the hustle but my skill level is too low to accurately attempt to simulate the process in writing. im sorry math guys) so he has a home-made flexible cheat code on how to solve any possible mix-up of it. It's fun for him, it stimulates his brain and he is so stupid good at it that he can only share that joy with like a stray alakazam or metagross because he's a bit of a tarzan just hanging out in the wilderness, he doesn't know any high end mathematicians he can casually geek out about combinatorial game theory with, and the normies just do not get it .

I think this math enjoying is kind of a big part of his ~Innocence~ as well, since there's a lot of childlike glee to being a Math Guy. It's the love of problem solving as a process rather than a means to an end, it's playful, but severely misunderstood to the point where people kinda might assume things about you if you are a math guy.

N's love of math helps him love the world but it also isolates him. He's a genius, but since he can't communicate it in a palatable way it'll get overlooked in favor of him just being a loomy weirdo on the street chatting up the local patrats.

If introduced to DnD though he'd spend so much time on forging ridiculously optimized multiclass builds, then migrate to digging through old obscure sci-fi ttrpgs from the 80s with hellishly complex systems just for the funsies of learning how the presented variables behave within a variety of frameworks, but then if you actually invited him to play with your group he'd look at you like you'd just called his mom a llama.

He's a neat guy to me, STEM guy who's also one of those animal rights activists who's a little too PETA-coded, I like him :)

[grif-hawaiian-rolls]

Red VS Blue, but make it Guild Wars 2

ok so i'm going to try and make this au make sense if you look at it from either side without prior knowledge of the other but theyre both so entrenched in my brain im not sure how well it'll work if you get lost im sorry in advance- or you can just enjoy the group piece and ignore the insane rambles below the cut! fair warning: its a lot! my red team yapping showing up in full force!

Don't say I didn't warn you :3

Context:

GW2 is a fantasy setting MMORPG, set in the world of Tyria. There are 5 playable races with their own unique cultures and such. I'm using the wikis for the races bc im lazy- the names are links to the proper wiki, but i've VERY ROUGHLY summarized for ease-

ASURA: The smallest playable race, Asura are highly intelligent and have a cultural focus on Academia and Research- furthering the reach of their magi-tech, sometimes at the cost of morals. Asura tend to be characterized as cocky intellectuals, who know more than everyone else in the room at any given time and they know it- but they're going to have a solution to a problem before you've finished explaining it.

CHARR: Giant anthropomorphic cats, the Charr are a militaristic race with a culturally cynical look on the world and a stubborn streak to match, and a general distrust of magic due to some Prior Circumstances. Charr tend to be characterized as gruff, fuck-around-and-find-out types, due to the military culture, and have more focus on their squad (warband) over individual relations.

HUMAN: On the surface, pretty par for the course here, but humans aren't actually native to Tyria- not that this stops them from being a cultural and territorial powerhouse in the setting. There is a fair bit of tension between humans and charr, and humans and some of the non-playable races in the game. Humans tend to be characterized as stubborn, tenacious and resourceful in a Tyrian context.

NORN: visually speaking, Norn appear to be giant humans, native to Tyria. Culturally speaking, Norn value honor and nature in equal measure- you should make a Legend for yourself, but you need to respect the Spirits of the Wild. Typically, norn are characterized as loud and boisterous, but reliable in a fight and always down to celebrate an impressive victory and share a story.

SYLVARI: The youngest race in Tyria, having only existed for about 25 years or so at the start of the game, Sylvari are plantfolk who Awaken from their mutually shared Dream as grown adults. The Dream gives sylvari the knowledge they need to function right out the gate, although the actual extent of said knowledge varies slightly by individuals, and is tended to by The Pale Tree (or the Pale Mother/Mother Tree, as sylvari know her)- sylvari follow a set of tenants given to them in the Dream that encourage compassion, kindness, and a drive to do what must be done called a Wyld Hunt.

__--__

RvB is a Halo machinima set in an appropriately sci-fi setting that is, above all else, fucking ridiculous. The plot, when it manages to exists in a semi-coherent fashion, focuses almost entirely on a band of absolute asshole idiots who cheat death as a hobby, swear a lot, and generally just would be unpleasant people to know but it is incredibly entertaining to put them into situations so that sums up the general vibe of the show. RvB is slightly less relevant to this au as the characters are what I'm yoinking and theyre all getting explained in their gw2 contexts here, but the main point is: the show is silly, and everyone in it is some brand of annoying, rude, mean, stupid or any combination there of. Also? Probably traumatized by war, whether or not they realize it. __--__

BORING STUFF OUT OF THE WAY ITS CHARACTER TIME __--__

THE GULCH KREWE - An Asura research team focused on making self sustaining golems. Technically Vic is the krewe lead, but he never seems to show up at their lab situated in the middle of no where for.... safety reasons. The official, documented by the asuran governement Gulch krewe is really incredibly small, at four asura strong, counting Vic even though there is quite a bit of debate on whether he actually counts since he's never around, but they have a reputation for being the worst krewe to work with. Ever. Of all time. Between reports of "unsafe necromantic practices" and general "workplace threats and harrassment", the only people who stay in the Gulch krewe have no where else to go. The "rank" nickname theme started mostly as a joke, but once it was started it was basically impossible to stop.

"Captain" Bucch Flowers - Asuran Necromancer - Asura, typically, do not have last names. Bucch, is not known for being the typical sort of asura. Eccentric and regarded as "morally questionable" by previous krewes, Bucch is a friendly individual who finds other people fascinating, both in terms of their psychology and physiology. He always has a smile on his face and a warm, cheerful demeanor that some people have claimed to be "unsettling", but I mean, really, he's just being nice. Right?

"Sarge" REDACTED - Asuran Engineer - Sarge took to his nickname with a brand of enthusiasm that really was just a warning to the kind of person he is, going so far as to have his previous name removed or changed on all documents he could. Loud, brash and unapologetic in everything he does, Sarge is the main "threat" of the Gulch Krewe between his wild experimental inventions, with their tendency to either go rogue against their creator or just plain blow up, his complete and utter lack of patience, and his habit of gesturing with his loaded shotgun during a conversation. His volume never drops below LOUD, but he's a very.. unique brand of genius who excels at making things that really shouldn't be physically possible work.

"Doc" Dufresne - Asuran Mesmer - Doc is, by all counts, the odd one out of the official Gulch krewe. Meek and empathetic in nature, Doc tends to be the moral voice of the krewe- one that often gets ignored. He is still annoyed by his ridiculous nickname, even if it is nice to have the affirmation that he really is part of the krewe. He's not even really a doctor! He's not great with medical care or technology. Or fighting. Or much of anything, if he lets himself be a little too honest. But he's part of the krewe, for better or for worse, and if that just means he uses his magic to pull his krewmates away from whatever is trying to murder them this week, then so be it.

The UNOFFICIAL Gulch krewe is a bit more.. diverse. Technically, non-asura don't get listed as krewe on the paperwork. They're hired help, not technically part of the team that gets credited for the work done in the published papers. Generally, this is because most hired hands don't have that much to do with the actual invention or research process- they're just there to be damage control when things go wrong. However with the Gulch krewe... a lot of things tend to go wrong. Technically speaking, there is no reason for a krewe of four three to have separate research teams. There is barely a reason for bigger krewes to do it. However... Captain Flowers and Sarge rarely seem to work on the 'technical' level of anything, and all it took was one offhanded comment from Vic (over comm, no less! couldn't even cause problems in person) for the pair of them to escalate and devolve into a rivalry that would ruin Doc's life, and the lives of pretty much everyone else who inevitably get swept up into it as well.

RED TEAM: Sarge claimed RED as his team color well before the idea of having color-coordination even occurred to Captain Flowers. Sarge claims he hired only the best to staff Red Team, with one exception for canon fodder.

Richard "Dick" Simmons - Human Elementalist - Born and raised in the upper ranks of human nobility, Simmons is a bit of a fish out of water when he's not in the human capital of Divinity's Reach. Of course, being an anxious individual with poor social skills, he didn't really fit in there either. He's got enough of the "I'm rich, you know," attitude held over from his upbringing that combined with a desire for praise, awkward conversation skills and the urge to prove his worth through his own intelligence, makes for a really obnoxious, know-it-all kissass of a man. But he's really good with technology, given his magic tends to prefer the buzz of electricity so that counts for something. Usually. He's not that bad once you get past the defensive nature and whiny voice. Probably?

Dexter Grif - Norn Warrior - With a hard earned feeling of "fuck it, fuck that, fuck this, I'm going to bed" that he trained into himself, Dex would have been perfectly content to spend his entire life lazing around his home city, Lion's Arch, scamming tourists and generally just kind of doing his own lazy thing. Or, at least, that's what he tells himself, as he has to look for actual work on the docks. It sucks. So when some loud mouth asura rocks up, shouting something Dex didn't really listen to beyond being a job, and a supposedly low effort one? Sign him the fuck up. But when the job is evidently not all naps and bored asura-watching, Dexter Grif will make his complaints known. Just... maybe not in range of Sarge's shotgun.

Donut - Sylvari Mesmer - Freshly Awakened, bright eyed, curious and endlessly talkative, Donut (Grif swears that can't be his real name, right?) is the Red team's resident socialite, sharpshooter, grenadier, portal expert and color coordinator. If you need something done, Donut is your man, or he can find you your man. While some people find his chipper attitude and love of 'dressing up' his friends with illusions annoying, and his tendency to veer into innuendos a bit awkward, everyone agrees it's hard to genuinely dislike Donut as a person. Maybe it's a mesmer thing, maybe it's a sylvari thing, maybe it's just Donut being Donut, it's hard to say. Despite his impeccable aim and frankly impressive throwing arm, Donut tends to be a little oblivious to the things right in front of him, but he's trying his best so most people tend to let it slide.

BLUE TEAM: Captain Flowers accepted BLUE as his team's color in good humor, as he tends to accept most things. He was not nearly as intense on his "requirements" for his team as Sarge- truthfully, most of Blue team were picked because Captain Flowers thought they were interesting more than anything to do with their actual skills.

Kaikaina Grif - Norn Elementalist - Kai has been called a lot of things, and not all of them flattering. Her personal favorites include sexy, wild, bodacious and "absolutely insane". She's a diverse gal. When her brother left Lion's Arch to go work for some mysterious asura in the middle of no where, Kai swore she didn't care. That lasted for all of a week, before she decided Dex was clearly up to something else and the asura job was a cover. Upon hunting her brother down and discovering, no really, it's literally what he said it was, she was disappointed. At least, until Captain Flowers offered her a position on Blue team. Being paid to stand around, look pretty, and bother her brother? Fuck. Yes.

Lavernius Tucker - Human Guardian - Growing up an orphan in Divinity's Reach makes a guy either really cruel or really clever. Tucker's never been the cruel type, so he went for clever instead. Though that quickly turned around to bite him in the ass, because being clever, and maybe a little bit of a smartass, means people notice you, and being noticed does not go well for him. Between at least one cult insisting he was some kind of savior from a forgotten bloodline, a jerk or three who didn't like Tucker outsmarting them or standing up for the people they were bullying, and whatever the hell is going on with his kid (courtesy of aforementioned cult), Tucker has more than had his fill of being noticed for being clever thank you very much. He just wants to find a quiet place to lay low and figure out this whole being a dad to a dragon thing. He's done being a hero and honestly he's done being helpful. Tucker's here to get paid, maybe get laid, and not get attached to anyone else that might screw him (or his kid) over.

Junior - Saltspray Dragon - Sort of a package deal with his dad, Junior is still figuring out the quirks and details of being a dragon in a society where 'dragon' is usually associated with the end of times, even for a "lesser" dragon like him. Fortunately, they're pretty solidly hidden in the middle of nowhere, so the only people around are friends of his dad's. Sort of. Junior is shy, generally, and tries to be careful with his size and his magic, but he's still a hatchling and sometimes it's real easy to get carried away when he's excited. Good news though! The Gulch krewe are well versed in shit breaking every other day, so no one gets too mad if something gets knocked off the shelf by his wings.

Church - Sylvari Thief - Some sylvari chose to cut themselves off from the Dream, in an effort to obtain either a sense of freedom from expectations, spite, or just a general desire for peace, quiet and solitude. While Church can certainly guess at his own, personal, reasons for becoming one of the Soundless, he sure as hell doesn't remember making the decision. Or much of anything, really, before about a week before he got hired onto Blue team. Just the name Church, which he can only assume is his name. He tells himself, amongst his internal tirades about his woes and his miseries, that Flowers hired him because he's smart and clearly the asura could see that. Not pity or anything like that. Still, it would be nice to actually remember literally anything. But Church doesn't complain about that- he's got more than enough things to bitch about from being part of the Blue team to distract his ego, his temper and his generally whiny attitude towards life in general. Who needs a past when you're surrounded by idiots?

Michael J Caboose - Norn Ranger- Never without his trusty arctodus companion, Freckles, Caboose is a joyful wall of muscle and hugs that frequently forgets that most people cannot, in fact, support the weight of him and his wolf-bear. Young and with no legend to speak of, Caboose is on a journey of his own making, to find friends that are just... so cool, everyone is going to want to hear stories about them! He just has the very very tricky job of remembering those stories. But hey, what are friends for, if not to help him when he forget a detail or twelve? And honestly, he thinks he found a GREAT group of friends here on Blue team. Sure they can be a little bit mean, but, Caboose has the heart of a skald according to the nice old ladies back home in Hoelbrak, and his heart knows when there's neat things

THE GOLEMS: The Gulch Krewe, official and unofficial, developed two more-or-less completely self-sustaining golems after splitting into their respective teams. They're not perfect, by any means, but they're certainly impressive to behold. Especially given that they both seem to be... well, people. That.. wasn't intentional.

Lopez - "Human" Engineer - Inspired by the dolls made by Tixx in the Infinirarium, Sarge chose to build a golem that looks almost human. His official logic claims that the more flexible build and increased intelligence allows for Lopez (Officially: L-0-PEZ - Lab-OH-Personalized Engineering Zoner. Sarge swears it makes sense. Red team is pretty sure he just made it up because he liked the name Lopez) to handle his own maintenance and upkeep, with improved head to body communication and modular independencies. The side effect of Lopez's "self repairing" abilities (read: his ability to take himself apart to put himself back together) is the fact that his body have very distinct seams, and he's prone to falling apart at them. His head coming off his neck is the worst and most common offender of this problem. Like most of Sarge's intelligent creations, Lopez has a sour attitude and very little respect for his creator. If you asked him, the only reason he sticks around is because it's easier to get his hands on the tools he needs to fix himself. That and no one else speaks Orrian since the continent and kingdom sank over 250 years ago. Well, no one besides Sheila.

Sheila - "Charr" Necromancer - Captain Flowers took a slightly more.. macabre approach to his golem creation. Made from the ethically and responsibly sourced bones of an anonymous charr donor (Captain Flowers's words), Sheila is a feat of magi-tech engineering and necromancy. Due to her... organic internal base, Sheila is much sturdier than your average golem for her size, and the necrotic magic that keeps her together and functioning needs almost no supervision, as it naturally drains minute fractions of life force from things around her, like non-sentient plants and insects. Though there are some... quirks, to be certain, but that's to be expected with such experimental magic! The days where she almost seems like a different person are most likely just her getting used to a shift in the magic, that's all. Nothing to worry about. Usually though, on her good days, Sheila is calm and patient, with a friendly attitude she seemed to pick up from Flowers, although somehow she's a bit better at reading a room than he is. She tends to be the most responsible and level head in the lab, which is fortunate considering she's also the biggest one there, excluding Freckles.

__--__

THE LANCER WARBAND: A tight knit charr warband, working outside of the charr legions mostly for decent pay and interesting jobs, the Lancer warband are skilled fighters, excellent hunters and all around impressive soldiers. Their one weakness? Their inability to get anything done without either a fight or fair bit of chatter (and the occasional argument leading to the fights) first. But once they've settled on an objective, they're nigh unstoppable.

York - Charr Engineer - By far the most laid back and easy going of the Lancer warband, York is the resident gunsmith, philosopher, mechanic and lockpick. If it requires nimble fingers (or claws, rather), York's got it covered. While he tends to be the chattiest of the bunch and that makes him seem distractable, York is often laser focused on his task- he just doesn't feel the need to act like he's focused. He's curious and honest in nature, and is always quick to come up with a joke to lighten a heavy mood.

Maine - Charr Warrior - Silent and deadly are the words most commonly used to describe Maine- not that they would ever come from him. Massive even by charr standards, Maine is brutal and efficient in a fight. By the time an enemy has seen his white fur, they're already screwed. Outside of combat, when it's just the warband, Maine still isn't a talkative sort of guy. He prefers to stand back and let the rest of them talk for him, with a few exceptions.

Washington - Charr 'Thief' (unrealized revenant) - Originally the 'cub' and rookie of the Lancer warband, Wash has earned his stripes as it were for his cunning adaptability on the field and his almost ridiculous good luck when it comes to survival. While he tries to be kind and compassionate when he can, he's more on the pragmatic side than he used to be, and he can't always balance being nice with being realistic. Still, Wash has a sarcastic streak big enough to give York a run for his money, and enough sharp wit and sharper knives to keep just about anyone else on their toes.

Texas - Charr Warrior - A bit of a badass, Tex is the Lancer warband legionnaire and easily the best fighter of them all. She's harsh, even to her own warband, but she cares more than she likes to let on. However, her temper tends to get the best of her, and she frequently works alone to blow off steam. The last time she left... she didn't come back.

South - Charr Necromancer - One of the twins, South is aggressive, impatient and vicious just as much as she is efficient with her magic. She's a survivor and despite her bitchy attitude and general disregard for the rest of her warband, she gets shit done. Maybe a little meaner about it than she needs to be but hey, it's done right? Who cares if a little more blood was spilled or if a few more punches were thrown than were strictly necessary.

North - Charr Guardian - The other twin, North couldn’t be more different from his sister. He’s gentle, understanding and tries to be a shoulder to lean on for anyone who needs it, not just their bandmates. Granted, sometimes this does get him punched, but his kind nature doesn’t stop him from giving as good as he gets. He’s a skilled marksman with a longbow, and his calm nature helps him keep a level head in a fight- useful, when you specialize in placing traps.

'Honorary' warband: When their Legionnaire, Tex, mysteriously vanishes, the Lancer warband is left fumbling in the wake. Fortunately, they have friends they can trust to help them get their bearings.

Carolina - Human 'Warrior' (unrealized Revenant) - not the step dad but the dad who stepped up Carolina has been a fighter and a soldier her whole life, or very damn near it. While not raised to quite the same degree of military as the average charr, her mother ran a tight ship of their home and after her passing, her father ran it even tighter. Her friendship with the Lancer warband started with a night of mildly drunken chaos with York, after which she kept in close contact with the charr. Intense in every factor, loyal, and more than a little competitive, Carolina thrives in combat situations that demand the most of her, which makes her a fast friend for the rowdy warband. Without Tex, the Lancer warband needed a leader, and Carolina stepped into the role of unofficial legionnaire as easily as donning her helmet. While comparisons between herself and Texas make her uneasy, she does admit she likes the feeling of being 'Boss' with the charr.

Reggi "Wyoming" - Asuran Mesmer - Reggi is a bit of an odd ball and a loner before he begins spending time with the Lancer warband. He enjoys a good pun and a bad knock-knock joke, but his disinterest in most scientific endeavors left him with little opportunities within asura society. So he left, took his humor and not much else with him, and has been something of a drifter ever since, more interested in taking care of himself above all else. While the Lancer warband may groan and scoff at him from time to time, they do work well with him, and even a selfish bastard like him needs back up from time to time.

[sphireath-wisp]

#just for me.

Sypnosis: Things that remind them of you that they keep for themselves (Blue lock version)

Warnings: Messy interchanging tenses, not proofread

Featuring: Nagi Seishiro, Meguru Bachira, Yoichi Isagi, Itoshi Rin x GN! reader

Nagi Seishiro

He had this picture of you in his wallet wearing a matching onesie with him. The both of you were wearing stitch onesies and Reo had just happened to come by. Taking hold of this opportunity, Reo snapped a picture of the both of you asleep on the couch - popcorn and snacks next to the both of you as the TV was still playing the movie you both were watching. Once Nagi sees the picture, he'll snatch it away from Reo and keep in it his phone case. His phone is always with him, so it's convenient to just take it out and get his daily reminder of who's been supporting him in his career for so long.

The matching necklaces you got for his birthday. He always keeps it on him and does not care if he's breaking any rules wearing it (he'll just hide it under his shirt, what's the big deal?) Nagi likes it because it's convenient to wear when playing football. It doesn't disturb him much like rings do when he eats or earrings when he jumps around during practice. Plus, he'll unconsciously fidget with it. The cold sensation it has whenever he touches it is weirdly comforting.

Meguru Bachira

He has a picture of you and him in an art class the both of you signed up for. Honestly, he wasn't focusing and neither were you - there were doodles everywhere on his canvas and you couldn't focus with him around. You remember him doodling you kissing him on the cheek, a cat, your initials in a heart, etc. In the picture, he was cupping your cheek and painting small hearts all over your face. Every time he stares at the photo, he can recall the sound of your uncontrollable laughter, how one of the hearts smudged on his cheeks when you kissed him, and the trouble you went through wiping off the red stains on your face and clothes.

His grades... aren't the best. Thus, being the dedicated and loving significant other you are, you copied your personal super helpful notes for him to refer though. However, you had encountered an obstacle - he could not focus. Complaints and whines would be the only thing rolling off of his tongue instead of anything intellectual. Thus, you've come up with a solution! Doodles and affirmations in the notebook keep him around long enough. Occasionally, you'll doodle a smaller version of you saying "good job!", hugging him, kissing him, etc. Similar to checkpoints, you'll remind him of how great he's doing or how he's going to ace his exams like this! Once he returns the notebook, you'll notice new doodles, and a thank you message on a card hidden between the pages.

Yoichi Isagi

The scarf you gave him during autumn. It still has that lingering smell of your perfume/cologne, and he just likes having it on during his walks. It calms him down to just having it around his neck. I just have this hunch that he feels so guilty the moment there's a hole or any sort of stain. (Don't worry, he's careful with such a precious item)

I just know you and Isagi would share a Spotify playlist! I JUST KNOW IT. You have this playlist with him with a mix of your taste in music and his (he requested you to add in calmer pieces specifically). Whenever he's listening to music on the bus or train and hears a song he doesn't recognize, he'll smile unconsciously because he just feels like this is the type of song you would like. Seriously, those cheesy, calming love songs always remind him of you. It makes him really appreciate being yours, being able to hold your hand, hug you, treat you to things, etc.

Itoshi Rin

The good luck notes you leave in his bag. Of course, you respect his privacy and won't unnecessarily rummage through his things. Though, that doesn't mean you can't just slide your little token of encouragement right into his bag! Technically, you aren't looking! At first, when he felt the touch of paper against his palm, he assumed it was trash. When he was able to fish it out and inspect it, he realized the heartfelt contents of the "trash" in his hands. You don't know this, but he actually collects your messages. It's no good to waste such endearment! In a small corner of his bag, he neatly tucks them in and keeps them for whenever he feels like he misses you has nothing to do.

Knowing Rin, he's in no way a romantic. I mean, this is Itoshi Rin, we're talking about here. Thus, you decided to be bold and be the first person to make a move! You gave him a bouquet of white jasmine to bring home and to be honest, he seemed uninterested... Keyword: seemed. This guy brought home the flowers and literally researched how to take care of them to ensure that they never wither. During that, he found out the symbolic meaning of white jasmine - love, beauty, and sensuality. (He'll make sure to bring a bouquet for you in the future)

[mecachrome]

very selfishly would love more of ur thoughts on oscar accommodating and mirroring lando.... as an insane landoheadTM ive been watching lando slowly match oscar's energy in the past year and its been driving me insane and ur SO right that oscars done the same thing!! kind of crazy kind of losing my mind would love to get more thoughts out of u

!!!!!!!!! hi kira i would LOVE 2 talk about this. also this answer may or may not be 2k words long

god there are so many Angles and Frameworks and Contexts through which it is possible to examine 814's dynamic that i constantly feel unhinged about it. and probably sound unhinged as well…… pls note that all of this is pure insanity from my insaneperson brain ⚠️ ;__; ok where to begin.

to me the thing about 814 mirroring each other is that in reality it's actually a metaphor for many different things ❗️ on one hand you can interpret it Literally as in a strictly physical sense—the idea of mirroring someone as running parallel and positioning yourself firmly opposite each other, as constructing intricate rituals in order to NOT touch the skin of other men, being so specifically magnetically repulsed that any contact is accidental and fleeting and causes you to spring away as quickly as you'd met. but then there is also the other sense of mirroring that is….. more amorphous and conceptual, e.g. how oscar has in many ways indirectly orbited lando his entire career and how although they've only been teammates for a year now lando has technically been a primary reference point of his throughout a majority of his teens. AND what i think is so interesting about that too is that if you look back at oscar's Evolution As A Person, you could argue that he's been purely Himself As He Is Now for a very long time... yes there've been minute fluctuations in maturity and just general cringeness and muscle growth and cheek fat etc. etc. but at least outwardly in how he communicates with other people and displays his mentality / innate habits / mannerisms he's basically been his fully realized adult self since he was like 17??? which obviously cannot be said of lando norris who has grown massively in appearance and perspective and assuredness and so on from the ages of 17 to 21 to 24. yet this constantly evolving & changing your_choice_of_lorde_album Growing Pains lando has always been a sort of distant static fixed point in the future of oscar's mind… hmmm. that's just part of it tho

basically 814 as they are now are sooo fascinating to me because again They Do Not (Consciously) Touch but they've still very gradually managed to build off the foundations of oscar's subconscious teenage mirroring by turning it into something… well perhaps not quite fully intentional (and isn't that almost better in the end!!!) but certainly more self-aware and generally conscious. basically: the Negative Space of landoscar's demonstrated "affection" is where their reciprocity lies! if that makes sense.

and i guess what i'm trying to get at is that… on surface level, it's easy to say that 1) Oscar has always only ever been himself (generally true) and that 2) As the guy who came into f1 at 19 and was continuously expected to meet his more extroverted teammates' energies lando is the one who's habituated to experiencing marked change (also fairly true), but this still obfuscates equally important facets of their personalities: i.e. that oscar may be the more ~intellectually~ inclined of the two (which also who Cares. completely totally off-topic LOL but personal pet peeve of mine is people acting like there is a discernible difference between a-level maths and whatever private tutoring lando did after dropping out when their job title is lichrally F1 Driver…?! both are negligible fractions of fractions of whatever postgrad coursework the team's Actual engineers have done!!! but anyway), my personal argument is that really oscar is so consistently himself BY having zero concept of himself. whereas lando….. actually does possess a very strong inner character and intense, at times destabilizing self-awareness but also boasts a higher eq that enables a very high capability for social camouflage.

……????????? this is like a 10-paragraph intro. What am i getting at.

so basically. Yes. mutual accommodation……. i think my main point is that despite lando's strong baseline character and idiosyncrasies and particularities and fussiness and general weirdness, He Can, when necessitated, (as long as it doesn't completely contradict his moral impulse etc. etc.) soften that edge and adapt to another person's expectations—Even if just to maintain bearable social rapport & conversation. whereas on the other hand oscar can sometimes actually be a lot more malleable because he doesn't really hold strong conviction in much outside the few non-negotiables in his life ??? (read: racing...) like yes he's still competitive in challenges and is pedantic as shit but also he kind of just Doesn't care……. so basically he's the perfect fit for lando. because he DOESN'T expect anything from lando and lando DOESN'T need to camouflage himself for oscar and because oscar interprets things straight-forwardly and at face value and reads lando's intentions in good faith and honestly probably like 30% of lando's overthinking is a result of people constantly assuming the worst of him so i think on some level it's like 👉 👈 when you're both a little weird and also weird in these little different ways but in the end those minute shifts are what make you compatible and fit you back together again ?!?!?!? as i said it's the negative space of it all.

so really landoscar are not totally "opposites attract" but they're also not identical "mctwins" or whatever because Nuance and Secret Third Thing and what's truly critical about their mirroring is basically that 1) they don't EXPECT the other person to do it 2) they don't INTENTIONALLY do it and 3) it only happens because they're intensely aware of the other person's personality and mannerisms and appearances... bref IT'S ABOUT THE CATALOGUING!! like lando saw oscar in 2023 for the first time and immediately went oh you've gotten taller? oh you have big arms now? and they can't help pointing out each other's hair and ALSO >portrait painting (gets ko'd) "do you like purple?" "...uhhhh i can do now" like WHO SAYS THAT? ANDDDDD this was after oscar had picked purple to begin with but lando was like Nooo you can't do that :/ so oscar changed even though he'd argued that he'd "already committed to it" literal moments prior. Many such cases (i'm not finding a chair anyone?). they make me feel insane.

right let me just finish up with a few more moments (if you're still reading i'm sorry) but Vocabgifset is kind of a rough overview of how, at the very beginning, i think oscar did come in with a very undefined approach to How To Be A Teammate ? and was ready to treat lando as he'd treated rob and logan and fred and whomever and maybe even reflecting the atmosphere as reserve at alpine a little bit idk—essentially more visibly abrasive and pedantic and generally annoying. Also (ahem) perhaps how he'd seen lando act around carlos and daniel before... Guy who has carlando tweets in his twitter likes. 😔

but of course lando REALLYYY doesn't like being unnecessarily corrected over ultimately inconsequential things and again his demeanor is far from bombastic when it hasn't been demanded of him, so i think oscar quickly recognized that in his character and learned to just play along with what lando liked and wanted—not because he was preoccupied with lando getting annoyed at him or thought that lando was sensitive or whatever and not because he himself is a pushover because of course there is a healthy & endearing amount of push/pull to their dynamic but just because he sincerely respects lando and with that respect understood that he didn't need to "force" their dynamic when it would prosper by just being himself and more importantly letting lando be himself……….. Or something.

which imo is basically the basis of their current communication style: a lot of wordless meaningful looks & expressions (because they're both entirely honest people in different ways) (SEE: VIRGIN RADIO UK) (the thing Is that lando has no verbal filter but oscar is the one with 0 control of his expressions and deeply revealing permablush), oscar always folding to whatever lando says in an interview, jumping into frame and following along lando's message in the british f4 anniversary video, listening to lando's music through the walls of their driver rooms, and of course any instance of their Soft Talking Voices such as → "yeahhh you're up there" "aww (genuinely a little pleased and flustered)" and CAT 5 behind the scenes smoothie convo and oscar patiently waiting for lando to finish speaking and not wanting to enforce his presence but always being there and ready to help him….. like the worst part 2 me of the "well-represented" video is that andrea turns to lando first and tries to help him but lando is Still processing and Not listening so THEN he looks at oscar to be like um i don't know the word and that's when andrea looks back at oscar expectantly 🥲😭😩!!!!!!!! what if i dyed. honestly. the category is truly just oscar being susceptible to Lando Norris…………… i could go on.

also >RANDOM MOMENT TOTALLY NOT IMPORTANT but the yes/no challenge is so devastating on every conceivable level and yet One thing that i do not think is discussed enough! is the way oscar physically leans into lando's space on the table every time it's his turn to answer the questions and Specifically how in round 1 the media people were trying to get his attention to tell him to put the mic pack into his pocket but he was soooooooooo focused and fixated on lando's face right up until lando turned to speak to the camera that he didn't notice for like 3 minutes. GAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH. argh. the problem with oscar is that he's SINCERE. truly. "are you ready oscar piastri?" [zero hesitation whatsoever] "i am ready lando norris 🥰"

of course it's not like oscar doesn't introspect whatsoever because obviously he is very capable of self-assessing when something is important by an objective measure of success (aka recognizing deficits over a lap), but relative to lando's specific brand of overthinking & online lurking habits then oscar very much does.... basically underthink??? yes he overcomplicates simple ideas by being too literal but really as a person & conscious being he's great at living in the Present and filtering out excess noise. er... i won't delve too much into the ojp Learned Behaviors of it all and why he's so charming to older people specifically but basically Wwyd if an F1 driver microdosed autisticswag? joking. mostly. but i def agree re: your tags that oscar is never actually consciously trying to be a WELL AKSHUALLY guy because it's just fundamental expressive compulsion alkdsfhaldfh.

also specifically one of my favorite tiny little 814 things OAT is when lando says something unexpected or ridiculous and oscar parrots it back all high-pitched and breathily and disbelievingly like? Girl. this is super jank but perhaps you understand....... 😔

in the end it's getting asked >what have you picked up from lando and oscar saying Well everyone hmmms but not in the Special Multifaceted Uniquely Expressive way that Lando does ! whom I not only know well enough to intimately recognize this mannerism from but have also elected to mention multiple times in this interview. and at the end of the day...? maybe that's romanze

is this anything… idk. also i offer you the jankiest gif ever because i had to remove zbrown to fit them together (Which perhaps is also a metaphor for reaching each other Across The Distance NO PHYSICALITY REQUIRED!! ok i can't just keep saying see: [another random ass example] so i'll stop now but also see: eyebrow raise knowing smile at the end of the sim city video.) anyway why's this such another crasyinsane little moment of how they communicate with each other?! is it just me ?????????

alskfhsfd ok i'm so sorry. thank u for letting me ramble incessantly 🧡

[liquidorcard]

Could we maybe get an analysis on her “stop making villains like Magneto, they suck” video?

Also, I for one am sat patiently for that Flowers In The Attic analysis.

FItA Lorch Analysis coming next.

For right now: Part 3, Final round. FIGHT!

[Part 1] [Part 2]

Lily Commits Elder Gay Mutant Abuse, feat. "Eldritch Lily" (Part 3)

8:30: "And making these characters hop in the giant death robot so they can randomly do some heinous act of evil so you feel less guilty for wanting to bring them down is very telling about your priorities as a writer." [We're still talking about Korra, for context.]

I'm highlighting this quote more than anything as a means to really dig into the big stink with Lily's media analysis here. I've said something along the lines of, "I kind of agree with her, but not actually," several times while writing this, and this is exactly why.

I think a lot of people come at media criticism from a very flawed position because of the way the grading works in our school systems, of all things. They judge it like there is the possibility of getting an A+ on your show, movie, novel, video game, etc. For the purpose of reviews, as a quick way to indicate quality/how much you recommend a piece of media, I understand why critics would use scoring systems like that-- but when it comes to analysis, that's not really a useful approach. There are technical skills and proficiencies in execution that you can grade media on like that, but even they have their nuances. Conceptual ideas presented in media, however? No dice.

There are certain filmmakers in particular who I fully acknowledged are very skilled at their craft-- I still strongly dislike their films. I don't agree with the conceptual ideas they have to present, and I don't think they convincingly rationalize their position textually, subtextually, or otherwise. With that said: I think most media produced, regardless of quality, is a net positive for the intellectual landscape of humanity as a whole. With the exception of media that is actively harmful in a very direct way, disingenuous propaganda, or particularly egregious cases of cooperate slop, I support any creative's ability to add to the long-form conversation art and creation offers. Those highly proficient filmmakers I ideologically disagree with, their ability to articulate their worldview so genuinely, and clearly helped me as a creative articulate why I disagree.

With all that said, it's clear Lily doesn't think in that regard. Lily has taken media crit she has heard from other sources. She has just retrofitted it to whichever property she wants to rip into. If it superficially applies enough that she can misrepresent a piece of fiction with an argument, she will apply it across the broad. Approaching media crit like there is a definitive way to "score" fiction on its conceptual value, like it's a high schooler's end of term essay. Context be damned.

What she is articulating here is a valid criticism of certain fictions that try to present morally complex villains. This is a complaint I've made myself over properties like the first Black Panther film (which, thankfully, they at least did their best to rectify in the second). But not Kuvira. Not Magneto as a whole.

9:07: "Which would have been interesting, and led to some criticism of the main characters for trying to restore the same monarchy that has previously failed the people."

They weren't trying to restore the monarchy. They were protecting the prince from assassination. I feel like it'd be pretty tyrannical of the Avatar to say, "fuck you Earth Kingdom, you don't get your royal family anymore," without their say, Lily . . .

9:18: "Maybe talk about the United Republic being a literal concurred settler state."

YET AGAIN LILY'S CRITICISM BOILS DOWN TO, "I HAVE NEVER READ A COMIC."

9:30: [Lily takes like, the 12th bullshit pot shot at the creators of Avatar.]

I've ignored it up until this point. There's been too much else to talk about. But Lily has assumed an absurd amount about the authorial intent of everyone she's discussed in this video-- including Jack Kurby's intent when creating Magneto.

9:40: Lily fumbles through some final point here with two sentences that make no sense when put together about how this is all people doing tropes badly, but if you did it well then the trope wouldn't exist and aaaaaaaaaaaaa.

God please strike me down.

10:10: Lily calls this all propaganda.

Again. She's sort of right in the abstract, divorced from the content of her video. Wrong when taken in context of what she's talking about. SOMETIMES "sympathetic villains" are used as political propaganda. Sometimes, they're a legitimate expression of a creator's misunderstanding or mischaracterization of an ideology. Sometimes, they're an earnest dissection of the ideological concept.

Good argument of specific pieces of media, retrofitted, flattened of any nuance, used to discredit a thing Lily doesn't like across the board.

We're in a timeloop.

10:25:

God is dead and we have killed him.

11:01: "The problem is that this idea of all villainy being nuanced and complicated has just never really been true. Evil people in real life will often just invent justification for evil things they already want to do. And there's a point where someone crosses the line of evil so much that nothing they say earns them sympathy."

Lily thinks people commit acts of extreme violence and atrocity for . . . Fun, I guess. Disturbingly enough, this tracks real well with how she's justified her own abhorrent actions in the past. When other people do bad things, it's because they like it and are bad. When she does a bad thing, she has a reason, and therefore, it's justified. Another self-tell Lillian.

11:42: "The problem with my idea for these kinds of villains is that they inherently make white people of any gender uncomfortable."

GOD FINALLY FUCKING DONE THIS GOD FORSAKEN VIDEO AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

Pray for me, the fucking psychic damage I just fucking took for you guys.

I suppose the only take away here is this:

The thing that's so exhausting about Lily's videos is the complexity of the degrees in which she is wrong. She's developed, for lack of a better word, a talent for laundering good arguments in a very disingenuous fashion. I wouldn't go so far as to call what she does plagiarism. Her work is more than just stealing other people's arguments and regurgitating them back-- but what she does is a spiritual cousin of sorts.

She bootlegs intellectualism to sharpen it into a shiv she can use to stab at anything that displeases her. The same way she weaponizes her marginalized identity, she weaponizes honest and thoughtful media analysis aswell.

This video was, frankly, barely even about Magneto. Barely even about sympathetic villains. She has no interest in the material that was the topic of this video-- not even enough to do a bare-bones Google search beyond looking up vague facts she could massage into supporting her claims.

A lot of those very early X-Men comics are fucking rough. They include shit like Charles expressing some very creepy thoughts about a (I believe then) teenage Gene Grey. Some very yikes dynamics with the then mostly/arguably entirely white mutants acting out very on-the-nose imagery associated at the time with the black liberation movement. And some very questionable framing and dynamics due to the fact that, real life marginalized groups typically don't have dangerous superpowers.

However, you can almost sense the moment when Kurby started to take the reigns and make the X-Men into something really special. Not to imply that Stan Lee is a bigot or a bad writer, he had very good intentions. By his own admission, he did his best work as a collaboration with his artists guiding the story along with him (sometimes, well, functionally being the actual writer, no offense, Lee left a bit of a complicated legacy, we can't get into it right now.) Anyone familiar with Kurby's work as a whole will know just how profoundly humanist he was with the stories he told.

Despite what Lily arrogantly implied here, he always intended Erik to be a very sympathetic character. Even as a "villain," a sympathetic character vaguely coded as an "extremist" black activist was kind of bold for the 1960s. I can't tell you for certain what ol' Jack's authorial intent was, the man very rudely died 3 years before I was born so I never really got the chance to ask him-- but dare I say this was his best attempt at laundering the idea that maybe "radical" activists actually maybe had a point? To an audience who would have been VERY against that idea if presented to them outright at the time? Even now?

Media does have the power to shift cultural perception-- even if that takes time. In the early 2000s, when I was taught about Malcome X for the first time as a child, even then, 40-some-odd-years later he was presented to me in a negative light. It was in the context of him being the inspiration for Magneto, however. The emotional connection I had to that character made me question whether that characterization of Malcome was entirely fair-- even though I was too young and didn't have the full context to grasp what I was being told at the time. I do believe to some extent that Magneto's popculture relevance has helped preserve the legacy of some of the more controversial activists in history. By being a figure people can personally connect with. Of course, it's all more complicated and messy than I'm making it sound, however. It's unfortunately very easy to flanderize figures of history, boil down their motives, and flatten their narratives. A character in a story, detached from any direct sociopolitical baggage, is something you can form a bond with. Something that can (if handled properly) promote empathy for their real-life equivalents.

There absolutely is a conversation to be had about certain ideologies or positions being more often than not, for practical or political purposes, cast in the antagonistic role in fiction. However, Lily's thesis here, boiled down to the bones, has been disproven ten times over by the abject failure of shit like The Comic's Code Authority and The Hays Code. People don't emotionally connect with squeaky clean moral paragons as much as they do messy, complicated, emotionally challenging complex characters-- even when you paint them as the abject villain of the story.

People fucking adore Magneto. He's a cultural icon. Even before the FoX-Men movies came out, he was probably one of the few comicbook characters your mom could name. Vaguely recognize, at the least. And yes, that doesn't always translate into people being charitable to "radical" civil rights activists in real life-- but doesn't necessarily harm it either. Anecdotally, it helps, if but just a smidgen.

Anyway, get fucked Lily. Magnet Daddy FTW.

P.S. X-Men '97 is really good. Also, it's 100% alluding to these two having fucked. Maybe outright confirmed it by now, I'm not totally caught up.

I mean, we all already knew they totally were lovers, but.

Come on Disney, give the people what they want. Make 'em kiss. These poor old men have been having sexual tension for like, 60 years.

[ronwestbreeze]

TO YOU , WORLDS AWAY | PART ONE : CHAPTER TWO

pairing: jake sully x reader

summary: in which you are forced to be in the same vicinity as jake sully for months

warnings: none!

word count: 3.9k

author's note: yay another chapter!! :))

AO3 | prev | next

It had been a few weeks since the last time you had stepped foot in Hell’s Gate and ever since your conversation with Quaritch. Still, you had sent a few vague video messages for Grace and the newbies about the culture of Na’vi. The videos were mostly for Jake since Norm seemed well educated on the culture and language. It was easy for you to do and get out of the way one day a week. This was you being the tutor that Quaritch tried requesting. And technically you weren’t disobeying orders. But you did find yourself a loophole to avoid the Gate and Jake Sully all together.

That was until now.

“No!”

“Tinkers…” Grace sighed.

“Hell no, Augustine!”

You never thought you would find yourself yelling at Grace in all the time you’ve met her. It almost felt wrong. There was so much respect between you two, there was just never any way that you thought you’d be arguing with her this hotly, this irritated. Sure, there had been clashes in the past but those were tame and intellectual.

Now it was almost like a child snapping at their mother for the first time. You didn’t want to but your frustration and irritation had built up over time until it finally made you explode.

“He’s found and met the Omatikaya people, Tinkers. This could be our chance to rebuild a relationship with them if we do this right.” Grace's voice was cracking through the radio that you held in your hands. “And to do that we need a good set up, a good foundation away from the Gate. We have to have some distance, especially from Parker and Quaritch.”

That had made you stop. Your hands, which had been previously tinkering with your project, stopped moving as you focused your attention on the radio. “Why?” The question had come hastily, making you cringe at yourself. “I mean, what does this have to do with Quaritch?”

Grace responded in a lowered voice through the radio, “For some odd reason, I feel like you already know the answer to that, Tinkers. Which also explains your sudden attitude toward Jake. Yeah, don’t think I haven’t noticed, kid.” You rolled your eyes, knowing she was talking about your obvious steps to make sure you didn’t interact with Quaritch’s new puppet. And your lack of a response only confirmed Grace’s guess.

Really, there was no point in denying it. Grace knew you. And she knew Quaritch just as well as you did. She knew the tense relationship between you two, it was hard not to over the years of you being on Pandora. Which was one of the reasons why Grace had taken you under her wing, which was why you had always followed her around like a lost puppy in your first few years in Pandora. There was no hiding anything from Grace Augustine, especially when she decided to look after you when no one else would.

“And you think bringing everything up here, crowding my space…” Despite yourself, you glanced down at your project which was nearly finished.  “How is this a good idea again—”

“We’re coming, Tinkers.” Grace said sternly. “You can stay cooped up in your lab all you want but we’re still coming, and kid, sorry but you’re going to have to deal with Sully’s presence whether you like it or not.”

She wasn’t wrong. Yes, your lab was connected to the mobile link station Site 26 which Grace and the others were free to use if they wanted. But this lab was your solitude, your own world of secrets.

You didn’t want Quaritch’s little spy anywhere near it.

“Meet you up there, kid.” Grace said before the radio went silent.

For a moment, you stared at Project Pandora. Then you got up and started cleaning up the desk you had been working at for the past few hours. Carefully, you placed the project in the cabinets beneath the desk and closed it, locking it with a padlock.

Perhaps you were being a bit paranoid but you couldn’t risk it. Hell, you couldn’t even risk Grace seeing it either. She’d try to talk you out of it if anything.

Hours had passed until the helicopter had arrived with Grace and the others. Despite your previous annoyance toward the new situation, you went out to greet them as they got off the helicopter.

“Hope you took care of the place since I left.” Grace commented as you fell into step side by side with her. “I’m not going to see a whole hoard of shit everywhere, will I, Tinkers?”

“I know how to clean my own shit.” You grumbled when stepping into the station. “If anything you’re more messy with me. Most of you shit is in there anyway.”

Grace rolled her eyes, setting her things down at an unoccupied desk. Norm trailed in, looking around with wide excited eyes. “So you’re telling me you’ve been staying up here in the Hallelujah Mountains for months now? How are you not amazed by this every day?”

You shrugged as the link beds were rolled in, “I guess you get used to the view every day.”

That wasn’t necessarily true. Still to this day you found yourself always amazed at where you were and how you often remembered that Earth was nothing compared to this. And that you didn’t miss the former planet one bit.

Norm shook his head in disbelief, “Have you ever explored more of this place?”

“On my own? No.” You found yourself chuckling self-deprecatingly. “Pandora may be beautiful but it's also dangerous, especially for those unskilled to handle it.”

As soon as you said that, Jake wheeled in. He took in his surroundings the same as Norm until your gazes connected. There was an unreadable expression on his face when he nodded toward you in acknowledgment, “Doc.”

“They haven’t killed you yet, I see.” You hummed, raising a single brow. “Can’t really tell if I’m impressed or disappointed.”

He gave a sarcastic smile, “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Doc. Have any more half assed advice for me?”

“Yeah, right up your—”

“Alright, kids.” Grace interrupted, glaring at the two of you. “If we’re all gonna be stuck here together for the next few months, we’re gonna have to suck it up and get along or else this whole thing is for nothing.”

You roll your eyes, before leaving to go back to your lab. That was your only place where it would be your solitude after. Seconds later your lab door opened and in came Grace who already wore a maternal stern look on her face upon looking at you slouched in your desk chair.

“Why are we even still working with him?” You hiss in Na’vi. “It’s like you said on the radio, you and I both know he’s working with Quaritch. We can’t trust him!”

“He will start learning their ways and they will accept him if we play this right, Tinkers. Think about it. Sully could be our chance to rebuild our relationship with them, to get them to trust us again.” Grace glanced over her shoulder at the now closed door before continuing. “And if it works maybe things will start to fall in place when it comes to Quaritch.”

You stood, shaking your head. “You have too much faith in him, Augustine. Whatever relationship you think we could salvage with them, it’s gone. They will never trust us again after what happened. And now letting him enter their clan as an outsider, lying to them, that is what you think is going to help?!”

Exhaustion fell onto her face as she placed her hands on her waist, switching to English. “You’re gonna have to trust me on this one, Tinkers. I need you to work with me here, I need you on my side.”

This was too reckless. All of it. And no matter what you did to stay out of it, somehow you were always dragged back into it. You were always hurt again. You didn’t want to be hurt. You didn’t want what happened last time to happen again. Not to the Na’vi. Hell, not to Grace. You can’t stand seeing her heart broken after what had happened again.

“He is not on our side.” You whispered, pointing to the door.

Grace did not respond and the conversation soon ended when Norm called for her. Before leaving your lab she gave you one final stern look, “Play nice. This place is about to be stuffy, kid.”

The first couple of weeks, you mostly kept to yourself in your lab, working on your project, video logging for yourself, or just other smaller projects. Just to keep yourself distracted and away from the main station. When you did come out of your lab, you’d mostly speak to Grace and Norm and kept your interactions with Jake to a minimum. Which most of the time included snarky remarks and or cursing at each other.

“She keeps calling me, skxawng.” Jake muttered one day while eating his breakfast before he’d hop into the link unit as usual. During his stay here, you had learned that Jake had met Neytiri, the Omatikaya clan leader’s daughter. You recognized the name mostly because you had met her in the past, her and her mother Mo’at, the Tsahik of the clan. It had been a while since you had seen either of them. “What does it even mean?”

“Moron.” You muttered, eating some of your yogurt.

“Yeah, right back at you, little shit.” Jake retorted.

Norm shook his head, hiding an amused snort behind his bowl of breakfast. You turned to Jake and raised your brows, “Skxawng, means moron, asshat. Though it’s pretty fitting for you, don’t you think?”

“Bite me.”

“Very mature.”

“Both of you sound like children!” Grace snapped from her spot at the desk in the corner. “For god’s sake, you’re adults! Act like it!”

“Tell that to her.” Jake commented.

You flipped him off.

But as time went by, you can admit that Jake was making bits of progress when it came to integrating into the Omatikaya. Some days, when you wanted a break from spending so much time in the lab, you’d be sitting on one of the cots watching Norm struggling to teach Jake the language and get easily frustrated at his slow learning.

“Oel ngati kameie.” Norm repeated for what sounded like the hundredth time that evening. “I see you. You almost had it on the ninetieth try.”

“Fuck off.” Jake rolled his eyes. “Oel ngati—”

“No, no, no!” Norm grumbled while you hid a smile behind the book you were reading.

“I’m saying exactly what you’re saying right now!”

“No you’re not—you know what?” Norm breathed out a sigh before pushing away from the table he was at, “Let’s take a really, really long break, yeah?” You watched as Norm exhaustedly rubbed his face and left the room, mumbling to himself in frustration.

Jake huffed and went quiet for a while. Right now it was just the two of you sitting in the room. You made no move to say or do anything, mostly just kept to yourself like you had been for the past week. While reading, you heard him start to mumble the same phrase over and over again, though his pronunciation was wrong each time.

And despite wanting to ignore him, your need to correct him eventually won.

“You really do have a thick skull, huh?” You commented. Jake turned his wheelchair away from you, pettily ignoring you. “You're sooo funny. Apologies for trying to help.”

“And since when have you ever tried to help me?” Jake snorted, glaring at you over his shoulder.

“Did you not watch the videos I sent you?”

“Fuck off.”

A small, amused smile tugged at your lip before you closed your book. “Quaritch did tell you to listen to me, make sure you survive and whatnot. Or are you not taking orders from him anymore?”

Jake didn't reply right away, instead he turned his chair so that he was facing you again, studying you with an unreadable expression. “You hate him.”

You scoffed, “Great job, Sherlock.”

Jake tilted his head, giving you a look, “He’s mentioned you a few times. Asks about you.”

Not really wanting to hear any of this, you got up and grabbed your book. “We’re definitely not having this conversation, especially not with you of all people.”

“Okay, then make something clear to me.” Jake called, rolling after you. “I don’t get it. He acts like the two of you are close and treats you like a family. And then there’s you, you can’t even stand to be in the same room with him.”

Now you were scowling and turned back to him, “Yes and it’s been a pretty great relationship so far. What’s your point, Puppet?”

He frowned at the nickname but continued, “It’s because of the school, isn’t it?”

That, you hadn’t expected. Really, you didn’t even know that he knew about that. Then again, Grace might’ve told him at some point. Still, the question threw you off. Enough that Jake could read the expression on your face, which confirmed his question without you having to say anything.

“I, uh, noticed the pictures with you and Grace’s avatars, with the kids.” Jake continued but a lot more carefully than before. “Grace told me about, um, Sylwanin and the other kids that died.” You winced terribly, barely able to hide it as you turned your gaze away from him. It had been awhile, no, a couple of years at least since it first happened.

You just never bothered talking about it again, never bothering to go back into your avatar form unless you absolutely needed to. Those deaths had weighed down on your shoulders forever.

Jake was still watching you as he spoke, “You blame him.”

“They were on his orders.” Was what you said, willing your voice to remain firm. Crossing your arms, you continued through gritted teeth, “If he ever thought of me as family he wouldn’t have allowed that to happen that day. Those were my friends he had gunned down.” You turn to look at Jake, frowning. “Could you forgive that?”

Surprisingly, his response was immediate. “No.”

Quietly, you watched him the same as he did you. And then you stopped, not wanting to read into anything more. Not wanting to discover anything more despite the growing doubt settling in as this conversation kept going.

“What else has he said?” You found yourself asking after a while, quietly. This now surprised Jake. “About me?”

Now it was his turn to look away from you for a moment before shrugging, “Says you guys used to be close, practically an uncle to you or something, I don’t remember.”

You nod, not protesting that. Despite everything, that was true. Your parents were both dead. Quaritch had known them both and you since you were young. He was a family friend. An uncle. The only person that cared for you that was left in this world.

And with everything that had happened between you two, that’s what broke your heart the most. No matter what, he was the last one left for you.

You walked toward the door to your lab but stopped before glancing over your shoulder toward Jake.

“It’s oel ngati kameie.” You pronounced slowly, doing the hand movement along with it. “You’ll get it at some point.”

“Wait!” Just as you opened the door, Jake had wheeled closer. “The way you say it, it’s different from how Norm did it.”

You shrugged, “Norm’s a bit too formal with his translations. Spend a little time with the Na’vi and listen to how they communicate with each other, that’s when you start to sound like them.”

Jake grinned a bit, “Why don’t you teach me? Call it a truce, you and I. Let’s make this work, yeah?”

“I don’t know.” You hummed stepping into your lab. “I still don’t like you very much.”

He raised a brow, a smirk on his lips, “You’re warming up to me though.”

“In your dreams, Puppet.”

“Video log, 100-something…I don’t know but I miss you guys.”

You say quietly to the camera. It was around night time in Pandora. The other should’ve been fast asleep by now or Jake was still in the link bed, parading around the forest with his avatar.

“It’s been a few months…since I’ve logged in, I think. I know I should be keeping up with them. And it’s been five years today since you guys left…Mom, I’ve improved and kept your work going. Hopefully I’ve done you justice…you know…I can’t exactly replace you. Your brilliance…everyone looks to me now that you’re gone…I don’t know how to feel about that. I’m not ready for it-I really don’t understand how these people think I could live up to you….”

There was a muffled sound outside of your lab. Someone was probably moving around. Whoever it was, you waited for a few seconds before you didn’t hear anymore thuds. You turned back to the camera.

“I think it was a mistake leaving me to Quaritch…and I know he’s one of your oldest friends Dad, but…this isn’t working anymore. Pandora has really shown me the truth. Something I was too naïve to notice before…but now that I do know the truth, I’m not sure….I’m not sure if I was ready for it…”

Knowing that these videos were being watched by the higher ups, you decided to cut the camera off before the tears came. The last thing you wanted was for them to see your vulnerability. To see how much their mission practically broke you. They wouldn’t have cared anyway. But it was embarrassing to imagine either way.

All you knew was that you never wanted them to ever see you cry. You would not grant them this.

The last thing they would see of you was not tears. No.

It would be a grin made of gasoline. And the fire you started in your wake.

Norm and Jake were arguing. You didn’t know what about but if you had to guess, it was probably Norm getting frustrated with Jake while he was supposed to be helping him with the language. And you were betting Jake was responding back like the smartass he was.

It wasn’t long before Grace jumped in to scold them like a parent. Now it would’ve been entertaining to listen to the three of them go at it, but they’re dumb fight was distracting you from your work, which was in itself a sin.

When the fighting never ceased, you gave up with the work you attempted to refocus on and stomped out of your lab. Outside of it, Jake and Norm were back at the small table in the corner going at it while Grace scowled and snapped at them from her spot across from them.

“—it’s like you’re trying to be dumb on purpose! How can you not get this?!” Norm snapped.

Jake scowled, “Kind of hard to listen to you when you’re talking out of your ass!”

“My god! Am I just surrounded by children these days? What the hell is wrong with you two?!” Grace glared at them.

You stood to the side and watched as they fought, both annoyed and intrigued.

Norm suddenly stood up, “You know, I don’t get it. I’ve studied and prepared myself for this for several years and he gets this chance in one go, why? What the hell has he done to even earn his place here?!”

“Spellman—” Grace sighed.

“So you're jealous?” Jake smirked, leaning back in his chair. “What, mad that I got the chief’s daughter and you got horseshit?”

You could tell Jake was just trying to get a rise out of Norm and the latter took the bait easily, “I deserve to be out there. I fucking speak the language—”

“Quaritch chose him.” Grace said simply, growing tired of the fight. “There’s nothing we could do to change that. And complaining about it sure as hell isn’t going to solve anything.” She then looked at you with a frown and spoke in Na’vi, “Are you just gonna stand there or are you going to add anything to this conversation?”

You shrugged indifferently, “You seem to have a handle on things.”

“Would the two of you stop that!” Norm snapped exasperatedly. “I can understand you! You’re not being secretive by talking in another language I know!”

Grace frowned, “Nobody said anything about being secretive, Spellman. Take a deep breath, alright? Yes, you are good at the language, which is why I need you to help Jake out here.”

Norm glared at Jake. Jake glared back, raising his brows provocatively.

You rolled your eyes before smacking Norm’s arm, “Go. I’ll take over.”

Grace raised his brows while Jake stared at you curiously and another expression you couldn’t make out. “You sure, Tinkers?”

“If it’ll get the two of these idiots to stop arguing, yeah, I’m sure.” You say, replacing the seat Norm had been sitting in before.

Norm scoffed, “Whatever.” He disappeared in the back.

“Let’s see here.” You say, looking at the notes that Norm had scribbled down. “Eywa ngahu.”

“What, no hello?” Jake grinned at you.

“Eywa ngahu.” You repeated sternly.

Jake rolled his eyes, “Eywa ngahu.”

“Good, good.” You nodded before glancing down at the papers, “Jesus, what is this handwriting?”

Jake leaned forward to get a better look at it, a little too close for your liking. He pointed to one of the phases, “Oel ngati kameie. I see you, right?”

You nodded while Grace from her corner of the room narrowed her eyes at him, “Just a few minutes ago you were struggling with it when Norm was teaching you.”

Jake shrugged innocently, “I guess I learn fast.”

“Bullshit.” Grace scoffed. She glanced from you to Jake with a strange yet knowing look before shaking her head and going back to work. Muttering under her breath, “Idiots…”

Now it was your turn to narrow your eyes at him. Jake just continued to stare at you innocently. You glanced back down at the papers noticing the red marks next to some of the phrases.

“Those were the ones we were gonna come back to.” Jake pointed out when he saw the question practically forming on your face. “They were the ones I struggled with the most.”

“Mmm.” You said for a moment. “Let’s go down the list. Ngaru lu fpom srak.”

“Ngaru lu fpom srak.”

“Fyape syaw fko ngar?”

“Jake Sully.”

You blink and Grace makes a sound that was suspiciously close to a snort. “You understood what I said?”

Jake nodded, “Yeah, it was a lot clearer when you said it.”

Bullshit. You pushed the papers away and leaned back in your chair, “Jake, were you purposefully acting obtuse just to get rid of Norm? Because if you were, that has got to be the most idiotic shit I’ve ever witnessed.”

In the corner of your eye, you could see Grace sneaking a look toward the two of you, waiting for a response.

“It’s not idiotic if it worked.” Jake winked, leaning forward on the table.

You shook your head in disbelief. And despite yourself a smile grew on your lips, “You’re such an asshole, Puppet.”

“I know. But you’re still here.”

“Shut up.”

taglist: @luvvfromme @sully-stick-together @dazedshoon @jakesullylvr @s-u-t @erenjaegerwifee @ssc7514 @cheari

[suzukiblu]

"understanding" please!

Match knows who Lex Luthor is, obviously. 

He doesn't know why he's here, though. 

"If you don't give me your little side project right now, I'm going to burn you to the ground," Lex Luthor informs the directors pleasantly. Director Beta looks sour. They were married to each other at some point, Match is vaguely aware somewhere in his information uploads. Or might still be? Legally, anyway. 

He really doesn't know. 

Lex Luthor walked into this Agenda lab with just his chauffeur and a single apparent bodyguard who are both wearing miniskirts and high heels and minimally armed at best, but seems absolutely unconcerned about all the guns currently trained on him or the directors' dark expressions. Match expects to be told to kill him shortly, but no one's given any orders yet. 

"And why would we do that?" Director Beta asks dubiously. 

"Really, Erica," Lex Luthor says dryly. "Do you think I'm stupid, or are you just producing any random clone now without so much as glancing at their DNA?" 

"What?" Director Gamma frowns. "What does the project's DNA have to do with anything?" 

"Ironic question to get in a cloning lab," Lex Luthor observes still more dryly. "It's mine. I designed it. You're currently in possession of my intellectual property. So either hand it and all its files over, or I will, again, be burning you to the ground." 

Match has the odd thought that he isn't convinced Lex Luthor won't be burning the Agenda to the ground no matter what they give him. 

Though–he couldn't. Could he? Not even Lex Luthor. 

"Will you now," Director Beta says frostily, and Lex Luthor looks vaguely annoyed and fully exasperated. 

"Hope. Mercy," he says, adjusting the cuffs of his jacket and the knot of his tie. "Keep Project Match from getting himself killed, won't you?" 

"Yes, sir," the chauffeur replies with a smirk as the bodyguard dips her head in a silent nod. They don't seem remotely concerned that Lex Luthor just told them to go take on a half-alien metahuman clone. 

No one tells Match to do anything, so he waits. 

"This really didn't have to be difficult," Lex Luthor says with a put-upon sigh, and four point five seconds later the room is full of robot drones with glowing energy gun barrels and Match is pinned to the floor with the chauffeur and the bodyguard on top of him. They're strong. Stronger than him, he's pretty sure. And definitely better-trained than him too. He can't move his arms or legs or get any leverage, though obviously he could still use his TTK. 

But no one tells him to, so he just keeps waiting. 

"Spence!" Director Alpha shouts, and Director Beta snaps, "Lex–!", and then the shooting starts.

A lot of screaming and chaos happens, but Match still doesn't get given any orders. 

"This brat's concerningly agreeable, actually," the chauffeur muses. 

"Given his genetic profile? Yes," the bodyguard agrees dryly. 

Match could kill them, technically. He's much better with his TTK than his useless "genetic profile" is, and they're both stupid enough to be touching him right now. It wouldn't matter how strong they are if he triggered a stroke or heart attack, after all, and he knows exactly how to. 

But no one tells him to do anything, still, so he doesn't. 

The drones whir and buzz and keep firing. Spence screams. So does Director Gamma, and then a few different guards too. The whole room is all chaos and noise and irritatingly loud. Match wishes everyone would keep it down a little better. 

He doesn't like loud noises. 

He waits with his face pinned to the floor. He can feel most of what's happening in the room with his TTK anyway and hear the rest, so it's not like he actually needs to watch. 

A lot of things happen before the last body hits the floor, but still, no one tells him to do anything. 

And then everything is quiet again, finally, and Match doesn't have to deal with any more loud noises. 

"Anti-climatic, but effective enough," Lex Luthor observes like there wasn't just a screaming firefight in the room. Match feels him adjusting his cuffs again, though he's pretty sure they don't need it. Lex Luthor didn't actually do anything but stand there the whole time his drones were tearing through the guards and the directors were fleeing. Director Gamma didn't make it out; he's dead in his seat. So is Spence, on the floor. 

Match doesn't care about people dying or not, but Spence being dead is . . .

He didn't like Spence. 

Not that he likes anyone, but he didn't like Spence even more than that. 

Lex Luthor turns towards his chauffeur and bodyguard and, incidentally, Match. He tilts his head. 

"You know, I really assumed he'd be more trouble, all things considered," he says as he tucks his hands into his pockets, sounding mildly annoyed about it. Match doesn't understand why he would be. Whatever side project the man's here for, it's all his now. No one's left to stop him. 

Except Match, obviously. 

But no one told him to, so he doesn't. 

He does wonder why Lex Luthor picked him to leave alive for whatever presumable questioning he has in mind, though. A guard would've been less risky, and also easier to threaten. 

They'd care about being tortured or dying, for one thing. 

"Let him up," Lex Luthor says, and the chauffeur and bodyguard get off Match and let him go. He considers just staying on the floor, but the order is implicit, at least. 

And also he doesn't feel like dying on the floor, if he's going to die. He assumes Lex Luthor has questions, and then some sort of kryptonite. It's Lex Luthor, so of course he does.

Match should care about that, probably.

[avelera]

On the Study of Miracles

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

Character: Gale, gender-neutral Tav, pre-Gale/Tav

Word count: 1,635

Author Note: Just a little something that's been plaguing my brain since my first play-through. Somewhat envisioned as part of a series from each Companion's POV, we'll see how far it goes. Posting the rough here until I decide what to do with it.

Summary: The day before the Nautiloid abducted him was the worst day of Gale's life. Not the day of. The day before. How does one even explain that to any sane person?

--

Yesterday was the worst day of Gale’s life. 

Not the bit with the tadpoles and the sudden abduction-by-teleportation, no. Not the part where he woke up in a claustrophobic pod and pressed his hands to the glass, looking about wildly as his all-too educated brain already knew what his stomach did not yet want to admit: that he was on a mindflayer ship and his gruesome end, from that point, was all but a certainty.

No. 

All of that happened after midnight, in Waterdhavian time. So he still considered that today. It’s important to be precise about such things. 

No, the worst day of his life was yesterday, sitting alone in his tower in Waterdeep, with Tara out fetching him another magical item to consume in the hopeless hope of staving off the inevitable just a little longer. Just until a cure could be found. Just until a miracle occurred. He’d loved a goddess, once, and a part of him deep down would never cease to. It’s just the sort of person he was. More importantly, she’d loved him, as much as any god can love what is mortal. Perhaps that was more or perhaps less than how much mortals could love other mortals.

Anyway. The point was, he’d been waiting for a miracle, and as the painfully-former lover of a goddess, he knew what a miracle looked like. He’d had one once, held her in his arms. And he grimly suspected that, like her, he would never know another miracle. It wasn’t for mortals to get more than one. 

He’d known that with a certainty he viewed at once with grim disillusionment and self-deceptive avoidance. So long as he didn’t think about it too much, he could pretend that there were still years before him rather than months. Weeks. Maybe even days, if Tara came up empty-handed, or empty-pawed, as it were.

He avoided the thought of hi approaching end with all the intellectual power he’d once poured into his studies at Blackstaff, under the fawning tutelage of his instructors, back when he was still a wise and precocious child, a “joy to have in class”, rather than a self-assured and (he could admit it) likely unbearable teenager, or worse, a young man. The lover of a goddess, just for his skill in magic alone. Gods he must have been a nightmare to deal with. Perhaps all of this was deserved, on some level.

Right. But back to yesterday. It wasn’t, strictly speaking, a singular worst day of his life. But they’d all blurred together by then, starting from the moment his new reality had truly sunk in, alone in his tower, when the frenzy of pain and soul-scorching hunger had receded enough for him to look around, sweat-soaked, sickened, and dazed, at his home in Waterdeep all but stripped of the magical artifacts that had glowed and chimed and made beautiful the rooms of his tower. 

His tower that swiftly became his prison. 

Part of the dreadful isolation that followed was his fault. Well, most of it. Turned out, he didn’t really have friends so much as he had colleagues. Colleagues who came ‘round once or twice when he first went missing, but upon being refused, made no further effort to contact Gale, and he could hardly blame them.

Technically there was nothing stopping him from making short social calls, even spending a night out, once he got the hang of how long he could last after each magical item consumed. Technically he didn’t need to be a shut-in with only his tressym for company, once the first firestorm of anguish and grief washed over him and settled into the doldrums of blank horror at how far he’d fallen. 

But that was wicked thing about hope. He had hope that any day, some miracle would descend from on high, Mystra with her forgiveness granted as magically as was her divine domain, and all of this would be some terrible dream. Or he’d stumble upon a cache of magical items enough to put Karsus to shame, enough to live out the rest of his days safely (how he planned to do this while going for days on end without leaving his bedroom didn’t precisely follow logically, he would admit, but then, it was a miracle he was hoping for). 

But to accept miracles was to accept that their opposite could occur. Catastrophes. Terrible streaks of improbable bad luck. One day being the lover of a goddess and the next facing his inevitable, shameful death, for example.

And, for example, he could all too easily picture going out to a party and discovering he’d left his arcane gate keys at home and was therefore stuck surrounded by thousands of civilians while the bomb in his chest counted down inevitably, as occurred in his more memorable and sadly recurring nightmares. If something good could save him, why couldn’t something awful occur just as suddenly to make him a danger to everyone he knew and loved— or at least, whom he marginally liked within a professional setting?

Well, as it turned out, a miracle did occur. It came from the sky, just like the best miracles did. It whisked him away quick as a blink. It took care of all, or rather most of his problems, in one fell swoop, replacing them with incredibly urgent but at least refreshingly different problems, like how to get out of this portal he was stuck in.

And true to his worst nightmares, it had also been a bloody awful catastrophe. Hundreds were dead, though that at least wasn't his fault. Thousands, perhaps millions more would die if they were not successful. It was utterly improbably—insane, in fact!— that he’d fallen in amongst the one group with any real hope of stopping the Absolute’s horrific plan from succeeding. They were, as one with far less education than he might say, in the shit, facing dangers that few but the greatest heroes had ever been forced to contemplate. By all accounts, he should be rocking back and forth in the corner of his tent, gibbering with terror. 

Instead, Gale was smiling. He hadn’t even realized he was smiling until Tav had glanced back and said:

“What’s got you in such a good mood?” 

Tav raised had an eyebrow. It wasn’t even a mean-spirited question. In the early morning hours, after a scrounged-up breakfast of whatever was left over from the camp of those tomb robbers they’d interrupted, it might have been the simple pleasantries he might have experienced from his once politely disinterested colleagues, except…. Tav was sincere. Perhaps faintly amused. The rest of the sentence remained unspoken, the laughter dancing in their eyes that took in all the misfortunes that surrounded their merry band, the Nautiloid, their bare-bones camp, their improbable and still highly doubtful survival. But that was the thing, wasn’t it? Theirs. 

Gale looked around and for the first time in more months than he cared to really think about, he wasn’t surrounded by the warm, wood-paneled walls of his tower. The bookshelves. The feather bed and the balcony with his view of the harbor. All the comforts of home and all the bleak, unbearable solitude of those same walls over and over, day in and day out, as he woke up and stared at his ceiling and sometimes, if Tara wasn’t around, just rolled over and went back to sleep for as long as he could force his body down if it meant not facing another day like this. 

No, he was surrounded by cliffs and forests, dirt paths and the lingering burnt ozone smell of the crashed Nautiloid and the unfortunately building stench of stale blood and unwashed bodies that would only deepen with every mile they walked. He was surrounded by faces, unfamiliar, some friendly, some distrustful, but all of them desperate, all of them pulling together towards the same goal. 

He wasn’t alone. For the first time in so long he wasn’t alone, and awful as it would be to say aloud, the fact that he also wasn’t alone in facing the threat of his own destruction, that each of his companions were in the same spot, working on the same problem was… well. He hadn’t felt this sort of camaraderie since his school days. Perhaps… never. 

Perhaps never. 

Gale snorted, chuckling to himself, and met Tav’s eye. “I rather think you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

The corner of Tav’s lips twitched upward. “Try me.” 

Gale regarded his friend, his savior, the hand that had reached out to his while he hung suspended in a void of nothingness, after so long in a far more comfortable, far more terrible void of solitude, and thought about miracles. And how accepting the good ones could happen also meant accepting the bad ones. Or perhaps they were just two sides of the same coin.

Perhaps he was not so abandoned by all the gods as he thought, to be here, on the other side of his tower walls, on the other side of sanity, on the other side facing down almost inevitable doom. Maybe the key to a miracle was knowing when you had one, as he had failed to see when he had one in his arms. Never again. But then, he’d always been a quick study, and liked to think he knew how not to make the same mistake twice.

“Would you believe,” Gale said, “that yesterday, before the Nautiloid, was the worst day of my life?” 

Tav blinked. “Before the Nautiloid?” Gale nodded and rather than scoff, Tav appeared to consider his answer. “And today?” 

The answer stuck in Gale’s throat, a rare occurrence for him, all the more rare because the truth was bubbling up there already and it was too soon, far too soon, he didn’t want to sound like a lunatic, it was already crazed enough to say that their ordeal was the end of one far worse for him. “The day’s still young,” Gale remarked with a good-natured shrug, glancing towards the horizon as if considering the time and not the truth of needing a moment to gather himself. “Why don’t we venture forth and see what it brings, shall we?” 

The best, Gale swallowed back at the sight of Tav’s answering smile. The very best. Isn’t that the maddest part of it all?