#cognitive alchemy

[kierongillen]

General Player Advice For RPGs

I published this in my newsletter here a while back, and discourse reminded me I wanted to put it more public. I probably should get around to actually doing a proper blog for this kind of stuff. You can sign up to the newsletter here.

One of the things which I’ve been chewing over since getting back into RPGs is that there’s so much advice for GMs and so little advice for players. I keep thinking over why - though the whys aren’t what I’m about to write about. However, some other folk think any worthwhile advice is system/genre specific.

This got me chewing over whether I agree with that. As the list below shows, I don’t.

The first four are ones where I think I succeeded, and as principles generally guide you towards better play no matter what game you’re playing. The last three are mainly applicable to games with a significant story component (the last especially). There’s a few more I played with, but they were more about being a good at the table generally – about being a better player in any game rather than specifically about role-playing games. I also avoided ones which were more GM-and-player advice rather than just player advice (if there’s a problem in game, communicate out of game, use appropriate safety tools, etc).

I also didn’t include “Buy The GM Stuff”.

Anyway – here they are. See what you think.

GENERAL PLAYER PRINCIPLES FOR BETTER PLAY

1) Make choices that support the table’s creative goals

If you’re playing a storygame, don’t treat it like a tactical wargame. If you’re playing a tactical wargame, don’t treat it like a storygame. If it’s bleak horror, don’t make jokes. If you’re in a camp cosy romp, don’t bring in horror. It also varies from moment to moment – if someone’s scene is sincere, don’t undercut it.

2) Be A Fan of The Other Characters

This is GM advice in almost all Powered By the Apocalypse games – for the GM to be a fan of the characters. It’s a good trait for a player to cultivate. Be actively excited and interested in the other characters’ triumphs and disasters. Cheer them on. Feel for them. Players being excited for other players always makes the game better. Players turning off until it’s their turn always makes it worse.

3) Be aware of the amount of spotlight time you’re taking

This is a hard one for fellow ADHD-ers, but have an awareness of who is speaking more and who is speaking less. A standard GM skill is moving spotlight time around to players who have had less time. Really good players do this too. Pass the ball.

4) Learn what rules apply to you, to smooth the game, not derail it.

To stress, this isn’t “come to the table knowing everything” but learning the rules that are relevant to your character along the way, especially if they are marginal (looking at you, Grappling and Alchemy rules). Doing otherwise adds to the facilitator’s cognitive load and hurts the game’s flow. The flip is being aware that knowing stuff isn’t an excuse to break the game’s flow with a rules debate either – that’s an extension of the third principle.

5) Make choices which support other characters’ reality

If someone’s playing a scary bastard, treat them like a scary bastard. If they’re meant to be the leader, have your character treat them like the leader , for better or worse. A fictional reality is shared, and you construct it together.

6) Ensure The Group Understands Who Your Character Is

This is the flip of the above – having a character conception that is clear enough that everyone gets who you are, what you want to do and how you want to do it. If you don’t, the table will be incapable of supporting your choices. This links to…

7) If asked a preference in a story game, a strong choice is almost always better than a middling choice.

Don’t equivocate. If asked “You’ve met this person before. How do you feel about him?” either “I love him” or “I hate him” is better than anything middling. The exception is if it’s something you’re really not interested in pursuing.

[savanaclaw1996]

The Lion in the Garden-Leona Kingscholar x Fem! Reader

As you know, today is August 10th, and that also happens to be World Lion Day! And so, we celebrate the day honoring the renowned King of the Beasts, the lion! So here's a little fic to get us all in the mood!

Enjoy!

Word Count: 1,260 words.

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

You just couldn't believe it. One minute you were on your way towards your next class with your friends, and the next, you were suddenly whisked away by an unseen force.

It was just another day at Night Raven College. (Y/n), Ace, Deuce and Grim had just finished ancient history and were moving on to your next class, alchemy science.

The four of you were just talking and walking down the hallway when suddenly, there was a loud commotion and the students before you suddenly started running and yelling in panic.

"Lion! Lion! There's a huge lion in the hall!" one of the students started screaming. You raised an eyebrow, confused. Ace, Deuce and Grim also looked bewildered. "Huh? A lion? In the hallway?" you wondered. That couldn't be right.

But sure enough, as the crowd quickly parted, you saw a giant lion running towards you, Grim, Ace and Deuce. The lion had uber umber-colored fur and its large, shaggy dark chocolate-colored mane shook as it ran.

To see a wild lion running through the hall would definitely scare the living daylights out of anyone who crossed its path, for you, Grim, Ace and Deuce already started screaming in terror and scrambling to get out of its way.

Then the lion suddenly locked eyes with you. Like a deer caught in headlights, you froze. The lion's eyes were the color of summer, a brilliant green, shining like finely polished emeralds.

Before you or anyone else could do anything, the lion suddenly charged towards you at full speed. "Henchman!!" Grim screamed as he tried to reach you, but he was too late. The beast crashed into you and knocked you down to the floor.

"(Y/N)/HENCHMAN!!!" Ace, Deuce and Grim all screamed at the top of their lungs in horror. You, on the other hand, let out a frightened squeal, too shocked to even scream.

The lion had you pinned to the floor, its large frame covering yours. You stared up at the beast, your heart was pounding hard against your chest. Then suddenly, the lion reached down towards you and grabbed your jacket collar in its jaws.

With a yelp, you were suddenly lifted onto its back and the lion took off like a shot, taking you along on its back. All the while, Ace, Deuce and Grim could only watch helplessly and panic fearfully while you were whisked away by the lion.

"WH-WH-WH-WHAT DO WE DO?!?!" Ace shrieked. "I-I-I-I DON'T KNOW!!!" Deuce screamed. "HE'S GONNA EAT HER!!!" Ace wailed. "I'LL NEVER SEE HER AGAIN! SHE'LL NEVER FEED ME AGAIN! HENCHMAN!!!" Grim cried, fat tears rolling down his furry cheeks.

"Silence, puppies!" a voice suddenly demanded, followed by the crack of a whip. The three boys immediately went silent. Walking up towards them was none other than Divus Crewel himself.

Deuce quickly ran towards Crewel. "Crewel-sensei...! We need your help! T-Th-There was a big lion, and it-!" he stammered. but Crewel cut him off. "Yes, I know. There has been an accident in the lab. Kingscholar was caught in the explosion and had transformed into an actual lion." he replied.

"Eh?!!" Ace, Deuce and Grim all exclaimed, gawking at Crewel before he continued, "Despite having transformed into an actual lion, it seems that Kingscholar-san has still somehow maintained his cognition."

"Even so, it still would be wise to create a potion that'll change Kingscholar-san back to his former self. I will be in charge of creating the potion." He then gave the three boys a stern look.

"In the meantime, you puppies will have to keep an eye on Kingscholar-san and (Y/N)-san. Make sure that nothing terrible happens to either of them." Ace, Deuce and Grim all nodded. "Yes, sensei!" they all chorused.

"Good." With that, Crewel went to create the potion while Ace, Deuce and Grim ran down the direction Leona and (Y/N) headed down to. After 5 minutes of searching, they finally arrived at the Botanical Garden.

"Where are they?" Deuce asked as they looked around inside the garden. Grim turned his head and his eyes widened. "Ah, there they are! I see 'em!" he said. Ace, Deuce and Grim all hid behind the bushes as they looked at the scene before them.

(Y/N) was sitting under the shade of a tree in a grassy area with the large lion lying beside you, his large head on your lap. (Y/N) was softly humming a sweet tune as you gently stroked the lion's mane.

The lion then let out a yawn, revealing its large, sharp canines before it turned his head towards your face. He then softly chuffed at you, and you lowered your head towards his snout, rubbing his cheeks affectionately.

"Leona-senpai. You smell so good." (Y/N) cooed as you gave Leona a little smooch on his nose and another kiss on his chin. Ace shuddered at the sight. "Jeez, kissing a lion like that. (Y/N) sure has some guts."

Meanwhile, Grim was fuming that (Y/M) wa being affectionate towards Leona, giving him pets and kisses. He was supposed to be the one getting pets and kisses, darn it! This ISN'T fair! Grim then hopped out from his hiding place and marched towards (Y/N) and Leona.

"Hey! I want pets and kisses, too, y'know?! I'm your boss!" Grim yelled. Ace and Deuce all cringed. "Grim, you idiot! You're supposed to hide!" Deuce hissed.

Leona's ears twitched as he turned to face Grim. Sensing an intruder interrupting their little session, Leona immediately got up and growled at Grim, making him stop in his tracks.

Leona let out a low, rumbling growl at Grim and bared his fangs at him. Grim's fur on his back stood on end as sweat dripped down his forehead and his little paws began to quake with fear. Grim then realized that Leona was still bigger than him, and if he wanted to, he could easily rip him to shreds.

"Leona-senpai, stop!" (Y/N) yelled. "Don't hurt Grim!" Grim then slowly backed away, wisely giving Leona a wide berth. "F-For-Forget it..." he whispered as he quickly ran back toward the bushes where Ace and Deuce are still hiding.

"Whew! Even as a real lion, Leona is still scary as heck, y'know!" Grim exclaimed. Ace just sighed. "Consider yourself lucky that (Y/N) was there to stop him before he turned you into lion chow." he said.

And so, Ace, Deuce and Grim just watched as (Y/N) and Leona just sat under the tree, enjoying each other's company. It wasn't long before Crewel came in with the potion for Leona. Since Leona won't allow anyone except (Y/N) to touch him, (Y/N) had to be the one to give Leona the potion that will change him back.

And so, (Y/N) gave Leona the potion and changed him back into his beastman self. Leona stretched as he yawned. "Well, that was something." he said casually.

(YN) chuckled. "It doesn't surprise me that you'd still be cuddly even as an actual lion, Senpai." you replied. Leona smiled at (Y/N). "Well, now that that's over, I've gotta get back to the potions class". he said.

Before he left, Leona turned to (Y/N). "Meet me in Savanaclaw later, 'kay?" he asked. (Y/N) nodded. "Yeah, sure! See you there." you nodded. Leona smirked. "That's my girl." he said as he and Crewel left.

(Y/N) sighed dreamily. You couldn't wait to spend the rest of the night with your boyfriend, Leona. Whether he's a lion beastman or an actual lion, it hardly matters. What matters is that Leona will always be your Leona, no matter what.

[eatmangoesnekkid]

My attention is almost always focused on and directed towards what I desire to bring into the 3D reality, whatever brings incredible levels of lubrication, expansion, liberation, discomfort, purpose, or fun, and rarely, if ever, am I focused on what I don't. I live cognitively and somatically in abundance in my thinking and feeling, and generally believe that whatever I desire is possible, no template or carved out path needed. There is not one person on Earth who I have spent significant time around that hasn't heard me moan, sing, yell, and scream. I command life through my Sounds . I decree through my voice. I energize through my deep throat (chakra). A vagus-nerve-tending life, as I call it, is a life of relaxation, deliberate creation, and play, that requires us to normalize using our sounds, to tend to our throats, to ‘will’ life in the direction we really desire through our vocals, and to deeply listen for next step instructions. I was told to connect to the water element to access sacred flow states, surrendering to the current and affirming out loud that the universe had a plan, and all I needed to do was relax at the water, pray and wave at the boats passing by. In other words, I became obedient to the universe, therefore I did not have to become exhausted and worn down because I was trying to force something to happen as learned. Instead, I allowed myself to feel safe being helped and supported by something (mostly) invisible and eternal.

My consciousness has drastically increased since publishing my first book "You Look Like Something Blooming" to crafting a new series of books, "The Melody of Love." Speaking with an upgraded consciousness required me to open up my crown through a purification process of slow deep circular breathing, eating real food mostly prepared by me, and channeling my "life energy" or sexual vitality with my heart in order to be able to receive higher messages and downloads. Through some combination of meditation, breathwork, chanting, sacred bathing, kundalini yoga, female sexual alchemy exercises, eating mostly organic, wild, or fermented foods, and/or spending quiet time alone or in nature, especially in warm sunny regions, permitted my 3rd eye to open therefore I could process the higher intelligence I was receiving without having an inflammatory response. And my throat chakra had to evolve to allow me to communicate the advanced messages I was receiving and processing in the simplest, down-to-earth fashion as possible to readers. But none of that would have been possible if feminine expression had not been grounded into my body over the years through root posterior chain work, calve work, and feet work that gave me strength and softness to be able to hold a greater capacity of energy and allow it to pulse through my body and psyche, you see. When your soul lives in a human body, this is the only true way "ascension" happens, from the bottom up. But I am also very grown AF. Not a day that goes by that I don't connect to my throat (pussy, or breasts) and feel the profound peace of the present moment. Like open my mouth and massage my back teeth and throat with coconut oil which also massages my pelvic floor and reproductive organs because the throat, pussy, and pelvis are all energetically and physically connected. What you do to one is done to all parts. Because one thing I know about women is that we live too closed. Our legs need to be open. Our breasts/hearts need to be open. Our spines need to be open. Our minds need to be open. Our hips need to be open. Our toes need to be open. Our buttocks need to be open. And of course our throats need to be open. It’s like women learn to be talk and talk all the time but we do not learn to open up our throats so that energy can properly flow into our eyes, inner eye, and brain, which means that we can finally ‘see,’ ‘feel’, ‘hear’ and interpret at the subtlest layers of reality again. The lack of real circulation is harming our bodies of their greater capacities. That's why the average woman has not touched the tip of what's possible in her body, life, and intimacies. The chronic negative thoughts have carved calcification imprints in her creative portals, made them hard and full of scar tissue. "The Melody of Love" books and school share how to dearmour the female body and unleash the raw multidimensional creative potential for every female body, the hidden, the regenerative, and the uncommon. I created my soft life (the real kind) because I learned how to live tuned in and tapped on in my body and mind, and I want to teach more women and other female-bodied people everything I know. Because when I do look out into world I see that this world needs us. More embodied women. High Priestesses. -India Ame'ye, Author

Only posted for 48 hours.....

[scarwasright]

An interesting side effect of writing so much in Scar's POV is the very consistent through-line that alchemy and racism are inseparable.

What thinks and feels like a human but isn’t? A great many things, answered alchemy. And maybe that was the sickness at its foundational center. Not power over energy, matter, or even decay, but the right to declare inhumanity by its own hand. The power of a state. The power of an army.

It could be strongly argued that alchemy is the belief system of Amestris, its own cultural religion. Even Marcoh calls it so. There's a consistent cognitive dissonance when alchemy and its practitioners/adherents/believers come into contact with someone whose very person has been touched by alchemy -- An attached soul, a chimera, a homunculus. These people, undeniably thinking and feeling and possessing of a will of their own, are stripped of the social privilege of humanity. This is alchemy's doing.

Reframing this world, this society, these conflicting ideas through Scar's eyes makes the failed logic of our original POV character (Ed) all the more obvious. It makes his personally convenient, inconsistent notation of what is human and what isn't (Al is, Sloth isn't) all the more obviously bogus.

It feels so obvious that denoting all of this in my own text feels condescending, but I wanted to talk about it a bit because it's so interesting, so I opened discord and was immediately hit with this tweet about the official FMA mobile game:

And I just. You really can't make this shit up.

"Hey guys I think maybe alchemy and racism are thematically inseparable within this universe?"

Official FMA media: "FIRE COMBO THE SHIT OUT OF FREEDOM FIGHTERS FROM A COLONIZED ETHNIC MINORITY!! ISN'T ROY SO FUCKING COOL?? GIVE US GACHA MONEY."

It's a bad joke. It really, really is.

[gotta-pet-em-all]

Okay nerds. This is… going to be loose as all hell. So. Sorry. I also don’t have sources for most of this stuff. Or the proper format. The wifi here is bad at academic journals and I don’t feel like squinting at a bunch of crusty pdf documents. This is generally going to be about broad cultural trends and disability theory. 

So history is big and weird and cultural. And what I’m going to be talking about actually goes back to the great Kalosian war. We don’t even have records of who they were fighting, not to mention borders have changed a lot and their enemies may no longer exist. There are theories, sure, but frankly I don’t care and this ain’t about them anyways. 

No one agrees when it was, but at some point in history, there was a shift away from battling with weapons like swords and knives, and towards Pokémon battling. And that particular shift is so so important for disabled history, because it’s something that allowed disabled people more social mobility. 

I’ll back up a bit. So, in what I will be referring to as the Sword Era, monarchies were the default form of government because they’re stable and decisive. People often needed swift governments because they were often under attack from their neighbors. 

Alola was. Frankly pretty damn isolationist due to their geographic location, but I’ll get to that in a second. 

So. Sword Era meant that warriors would have the most upward social mobility. You could gain power and glory by honing your body and proving yourself in battle! Scholars had this to a lesser extent, being good choices for advisors and members of the court, but they were typically too eccentric (read: likely autistic) to participate in the highly neurotypical social structures of the upper court, and it was more common to simply have one at your manor. 

This is the part where I cut in and go on a tangent about how there’s this pervasive idea that all physically disabled people are gloriously intelligent prodigies, trapped in a body unsuited for athletics but with a brilliant intellect and a quick wit. That’s straight up not true and it’s confirmation bias. Sure, you had a decent number of physically disabled scholars. But you also had disabled people who were more like me. Who had brain fog or other cognitive impairments, who had undiagnosed or unmedicated tismHD, who were in so much pain that they couldn’t think properly.

Those people? They stayed at home, with their family as caretakers. And… hm. This wasn’t great. I’m skimming over this one because it hits a little close to home lol.

Alolan royalty was largely about distribution of resources and conflict resolution. And as technology progressed, they were able to delegate more of their work to specialize committees that could make better decisions about things like urban planning, and this lifted a lot of the responsibility from them. Alolan royals were scholars first and foremost, who trained in geography and politics and alchemy and ecology, and there are records of a good deal of them being…frankly unhappy and overwhelmed by their lot in life. 

That said, Alolans were largely community oriented, which caused some large cultural clashes when the Kalosian war arrived. So disabled people in Alola were seen as people for their entire community to take care of, rather than for their family alone to help. And this means that disabled Alolans, historically, have some advantages! If you’re disabled in Alola, there are fewer elevators and wheelchair accessible doors, but people are a lot more likely to open doors for you or offer a ride pokemon to assist you up the stairs.

That said. Because Alolans are also very traditional, they’re actually behind in accessibility compared to other regions. They’re just very good at compensating. There’s a project in the works that aims to find a way to preserve some of the linguistic quirks of alolan in braille forme, so that people have better ways to connect to their dual cultural identity as both blind/visually impaired AND alolan. I’m part of the kickstarter for that one, so I can get a textured “Welcome to alola” sticker when they move into the next phase.

So, when and how did the sword era end? For this, we actually have a myth in the Veilstone museum. It’s muddied somewhat by being oral history, but it goes like this:

A young man, callow and foolish in innocence, came to own a sword.

With it, he smote Pokémon, which gave sustenance, with carefree abandon.

Those not taken as food, he discarded, with no afterthought.

The following year, no Pokémon appeared. Larders grew bare.

The young man, seeking the missing Pokémon, journeyed afar.

Long did he search. And far and wide, too, until one he did find.

Asked he, "Why do you hide?" To which the Pokémon replied...

"If you bear your sword to bring harm upon us, with claws and fangs, we will exact a toll."

"From your kind we will take our toll, for it must be done."

"Done it must be to guard ourselves and for it, I apologize."

To the skies, the young man shouted his dismay.

"In having found the sword, I have lost so much."

"Gorged with power, I grew blind to Pokémon being alive."

"I will never fall savage again. This sword I denounce and forsake."

"I plead for forgiveness, for I was but a fool."

So saying, the young man hurled the sword to the ground, snapping it.

Seeing this, the Pokémon disappeared to a place beyond seeing...

So! Some people think it may be a literal interpretation of the hero of Galar, or the mad creator of the Ultimate Weapon in Kalos. Other people think it’s a more fictional way of processing what happened. I don’t care enough to get into the discourse, but the point is, we can clearly point to the end of the Sword Era.

And It’s The Pokeball Revolution.

If we take the interpretation of the myth to be figurative, it’s about not only overhunting and violence for the sake of violence, but shame. People were ashamed, the land was ravaged, and they were starting to pay the price. We don’t know what triggered it, and we suspect that it was very deliberately forgotten about. This is when you see the Evocation Movement in art, which frequently depicted moments in everyday life, or sleeping pokemon, as if trying to preserve and appreciate this joy after taking it for granted.

Shortly following this was the Alchemic Renaissance, during which people started really trying to study and categorize pokemon. No one had taken on anything as ambitious as the compiled regional pokedex yet, but there were scholars who studied one pokemon or one type and did so intensely.

And alongside this, you started seeing people get portraits done with their pokemon. Not just official ones with big strong pokemon, but things like the Old Man’s Treasure1, in which the treasure is a sprigatito that he is eagerly showing off to those around him. 

And these are things that have survived! These tell us that people were learning to live alongside and love their pokemon! We also see the precursors to the modern pokeball, which were carved from marble or wood.

Later, we get the apricorn, which makes pokeballs much more accessible. And this is where disabled history really kicks up a notch, and we get the Crip Revolution, a social movement dedicated to disabled people and their support pokemon finally gaining independence. They got together and shared their experiences, and a couple alchemists of the time started listening and finding a niche.

But it wasn’t always good. Some of them shared experiences with abusive caretakers, or realized that they were being abused because they’d gained context for what happened. And we started getting this massive social question of whether the family caretaking model was really the best. The medical community was surging in knowledge of how to treat people, and the disabled community started offering their services as lab rattata. Some of them helped with advancements that are used even today, such as the prototypes for a shirt buttoner for those with low coordination. But there was a rather high profile case, the Fever Night2, where this didn’t happen, and it prompted the medical community to seriously re-examine their ethics considerations and how they conducted experiments. They did manage to save most of the victims in time, but the project was shut down and its assets sold off.

Another thing that comes into play here is accessibility. Because if a rapidash hates those stairs, and you build a ramp, a disabled person may also benefit from the ramp. Incorporating pokemon into society actually expanded the public’s view of what body types need to be accommodated for, even if those are relatively uncommon, like dwarfism. Travel became easier, and cultures mixed more even in the same region.

This is getting long, oops. Anyways, disabled people used their newfound freedom to start participating in pokemon battles, and this was generally a lot better! Blind/deaf trainers struggled a lot with this format, and made their own organizations, but social mobility was becoming less of an issue. Now, it was about traveling and independence and showing off their skills.

Another thing with travel is the use of Hidden Machines. These are gradually being phased out as many regions begin adopting the Ride Pager system, but a Hidden Machine is a way of standardizing the safest way possible to make a route accessible. Many pokemon are able to cut down a tree, but those with HM training are shown to be less likely to injure themselves or their trainer doing so.

One last thing before I go. About the future.

People have been leaking documents online after the Flare bullshit. And, uh. There was a set of “Ugly Laws”3 that said the quiet part aloud. That in the new world they wanted to make, disabled people would be committing a legal offense just by existing in public. The idea was that being disabled was inherently begging for pity and making people uncomfortable. And I guess it just goes to show that even an organization that claimed to want a better future didn’t understand how to make it, and just wanted to get rid of inconvenient discomfort. 

We don’t have a lot of answers for the disabled future. Is it ethical to cure Deafness, to give a baby a colchear implant? What about the currently unavailable possibility of getting something similar when you’re older? Will certain disabilities be cured out of existence, out of community? What happens if someone doesn’t want the cure they are offered? Can we really find an accessibility solution for ancient ruins? Should we?

Whatever happens. You just have to keep fighting, one day at a time.

//ooc stuff under cut

1.https://useum.org/artwork/Old-Man-s-Treasure-Das-Katzchen-Karl-Gussow-1876 

2. Fever Night is fictional, and not elaborated on much. It referred to a series of experiments on curing “the malaise,” which is generally thought to be clinical depression. Due to a misunderstanding in dosages, the patients all developed Serotonin Syndrome and wandered the streets in a daze. Worth noting that this was done out of genuine desire to help these people. In the wake of Fever Night, it was decided that more thorough testing was required before administering medicines.

3. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ugly_law Ugly laws are very real, and very much happened more recently than anyone would like to admit. The last one was repealed in Chicago, in 1974.

[homestuckreplay]

dskjhsdk

(page 520-532)

8/22/2009 Wheel Spin: being silly :3c Verdict: TWO GREAT PUNS

8/23/2009 Wheel Spin: Character Switch Verdict: <3 Forever John <3

We continue to progress through Sburb in leaps and bounds, with only a brief interruption from Dave to discuss puppet anatomy in lurid detail. I’m so delighted to finally see the punch designix in action. My headcanon is that its keyboard has really great keys to press, the kind that make a satisfying click clack when tapped. And the noise when the card itself get punched by the machine? Man I wish that page had sound.

It’s helpful that this machine gives instructions. Would have been nice if the alchemiter did that too, you know, when John was four minutes and thirteen seconds away from a violent death. The comic spends longer (by number of pages) figuring out the designix than any other machine, which makes me think this one is really important, presumably for punch card alchemy. The process, in short, is to captchalogue an item, read the item’s unique alphanumeric captcha code from the card, type that code into the keyboard, and punch physical holes into the card the item is stored on. This traps the item, but presumably allows it to be produced by the alchemiter, following the same cruxite dowel → totem lathe → alchemiter process as the pre-punched card.

We saw with the ‘perfectly generic objects’ made by an uncarved dowel that the totems can be used multiple times, so this is a great way to duplicate objects – I would recommend more captchalogue cards, based on John’s current woes – although this will likely cost build grist, which is already at a premium. But for this to be a true alchemical process – transmuting a substance into another, more valuable substance – there needs to be a way to modify objects with predictable results. The hammer’s code is ‘nZ7Un6BI’ but what if John typed in ‘mZ7Un6BI’ or ‘Zn7Un6BI’ ‘Nz7uN6bi’ or ‘IB6nU7Zn’ or ‘nZ7UnGAY’? Could these slight modifications produce variations on a hammer, or items similar to a hammer? Are there rules that govern how an item would change based on how its code is altered? Would this look something like computer programming, forcing John to actually stick to his hobby instead of abandoning his code files on his desktop when they get too hard?

Captcha codes are designed to let humans browse the internet while stopping computer programs from attacking websites – so what’s the equivalent here? My guess is that although we’ve seen the imps in John’s house make use of strife cards, they and other NPCs won’t be able to decipher the captchas on the back of cards. They can use basic inventory mechanics, but wouldn’t be able to perform alchemy, which is what sets the player apart. I’m not sure about Nannasprite though. As someone who is both human and computer program, could she decipher a captcha?

Every time John mentions his dad, wanting to find him or wishing he was around to get some additional shaving cream, my heart breaks a little bit. He reminds me of a kid who’s gone away to camp for the first time and is really excited for some independence but ends up getting homesick. John keeps putting that bunny back in the box and every time, he’s referencing a scene where a dad risks his life just to get a gift to his daughter on her birthday, and… I can’t help but think that John’s thinking of reuniting with his dad every time he makes this reference, too.

Rose and Dave’s dynamic is fascinating to me. They should be studied by a team of world leading cognitive scientists. Rose is not at all taking Dave seriously while he’s lamenting entering the puppet singularity, and I wonder if he prefers it that way. As someone who’s not comfortable with emotional honesty, Dave might not want someone to respond with genuine sympathy, and by knowing that Rose will keep to a suitable number of layers of irony, Dave trusts Rose and can be more open with her. From this conversation (p.522) I feel like Dave has a campaign of one-upmanship with Rose like he does with his bro, except with Rose they’re on equal footing. Also I don’t think Rose’s poem works as a rap but she’d kill it at slam poetry.

The puns are SO good. ‘Captchalogue’ referring to internet captcha codes as well as the cards ‘capturing’ items is a great payoff for a word we learned 500 pages ago, and ‘proboscalypse’ is. I don’t have words

[russenoire]

i just finished fullmetal alchemist 2003...

and i have words about this.

while both series have lovely scores, courtesy of michiru ooshima here and akira senju for FMAB, FMAB's OPs and EPs are almost all far too good to skip, ever. (if i have to hear pornograffiti's 'melissa' one more time, i will scream.) both series rely pretty heavily on slapstick humor to leaven the surrounding darkness, and the massive chip on edward's shoulder about his height, grating in brotherhood, also wears on my patience here.

i liked this story's approach to alchemy and how it works. but the creators' vision of homunculi here, where each homunculus arises as a result of a single alchemist's hubris and becomes their sin to answer for? i prefer it a little more than the admittedly more cohesive explanation of a single being splitting off aspects of himself.

we get to spend more time with scar and maes hughes (my favorite character; i adore his hazel eyes in this adaptation and hearing the late keiji fujiwara's silky pipes voice him twice is a joy). i still can't decide which kimblee i like best.

both fullmetals are examples of satisfyingly meaty storytelling and full of awesome animation. i suspect a dislike of canon divergence behind a lot of the hate for the first series, and a preference for deeper character study and pathos behind hate for the second.

i'm usually wary of adaptations continuing after creators run out of source material myself, but the story shō aikawa and seiji mizushima constructed out of whole cloth offers up a feast of philosophy, character study, mindfuckery and intricate military-political intrigue. and for the most part, it holds up under its own weight.

here scieszka, winry and rose are more instrumental to the story's plot. dante the cursed shapeshifting genius alchemist is a brilliant addition to the story, as is archer (more on him below). lust becomes an almost sympathetic character, what with having loved and lost multiple times as she manipulates mankind into seeking knowledge while being only a tool herself. alphonse is a formidable alchemist and a prodigy in his own right. here that's not just hinted at; both boys could have passed the state alchemist exam with ease. i loved seeing the elric brothers use alchemy to squabble with each other, not just fists and limbs. and edward... he's a double amputee, but his prosthetic limbs work well enough to rid him of any real functional impairment (bless winry's fantastic engineering!). i'm not going to get into the fucked-up implications of that in this post, but i will say that FMA '03 makes his disability much clearer. we see how painful attaching his automail limbs is, repeatedly. a character pries them off of him at one point and he's almost helpless until he can get them back. it's now obvious why he wears gloves most of the time.

the brutality and pervasive racism of the military dictatorship running amestris is given far more focus here. (edward himself gets checked on his own racist assumptions quite a few times.) we see more of the armed forces in the act of genocide, not just flashbacks in haunted soldier memories. officers openly call people savages; kimblee is sent in as an exterminator because of his amorality and solipsism; shou tucker's sick research is allowed to continue, even though the military already has a more efficient method to make chimerae. while making the situation the elric brothers left behind in liore worse, the shady lt col archer sustains what would have been fatal wounds. he gets rebuilt into some sort of robocop hybrid sentient killing machine with no qualms about gunning down his own men. rose is traumatized to mutism raped by the military for having led a rebellion and still leads her people.

whether this feels heavy-handed to you may depend on your tolerance for darkness and cognitive dissonance; i'm still processing how i feel about it. both takes on arakawa-sensei's story present their main and supporting cast as capable of cruelty and kindness, but FMA '03 foregrounds that evil a bit more alongside the good. it made the kindness less palatable for me, in a good way.

also i spoiled myself a bit by watching the conqueror of shamballa before finishing this series. when i learned that mizushima-san is a huge fan of hideaki anno's work, FMA '03's 'inconclusive' ending made even more sense.

[jellisdraws]

WIP Whenever

It’s been a while since I posted anything from my Cyberfantasy WIP so…

The helm was a vision straight out of the last century of star cruisers , retrofitted into something more functionally modern. It's dated darksteel panels were accented with rust red ironwood, and a full suite of leather chairs and stations sat vacant on either side of the conically shaped room. In the middle of the room where an old timey captain's chair may have sat, a 12 foot tall, 8 foot wide inky black egg shaped pod was welded into the floor, it's sleek sides seamed with glowing strings of runes. Past the navigation egg, the circular front viewport glowed with the purple hue of the light spilling from the Gate, the traffic ahead of them mere dots of black with their own aetheric glow of main thrusters, slowly idling their way forward, waiting their turn to warp. Wires and cables humming with magic running out of the base of the pod disappeared under the floor panelling - Was that… mahogany? - and reappeared where they linked into the various navigation and control stations across the bridge. Advancements in cognition-enhancing alchemy, magics, and technology like Jack’s own implanted cyberbrain now allowed the entire suite of operating systems for a starship like this one to be controlled by one person- a fact not lost on the starlining corporations.

Now that Automaton Intelligences were calling for equal treatment as kith, and even the corporate funded governments were having to give way in order to appease their constituents both organic and manufactured, it was far cheaper to just maintain the fewest employees possible and focus on guild busting tactics. Paying for stimulants, overtime and legal payouts when things went wrong was far cheaper than paying a living wage and hiring Shipboard AI to supplement helmsmen. The pilots guild was more or less a full fledged insurrection anymore, hijacking, blockading and destroying Corpo ships across the Unified Systems. They supposedly maintained sleeper representatives across the various starliner companies, those willing to quietly recruit new guild members or crash starships into trade hubs in firey protest. Split between the Corpos bearing down on them and the Guild’s aggressive recruiting tactics, every pilot and helmsman Jack had ever met had been either stupefyingly boring or batshit insane. She hoped this one counted among the former.

(Rest under the cut)

A voice floated out of the Comm rune on the egg, “Hey, just a heads up we’re about T minus 16 minutes to warp. Not to put too much pressure on you, but non essential systems will be going down as we warp, standard procedure, and they wont be back on till we’re headed into final approach.”

“Right.” Jack said, edging around the pod, trying to get a view of the person inside

“It's weird you know, I don't remember logging a request.”

Jack froze, waiting for alarms, waiting for the doors behind her to open, but the voice continued, “ Sometimes I forget about the small stuff though, or maybe it's an old one- glad they're finally sending someone to deal with stuff like this,” The voice was dreamy- like their attention was largely elsewhere- which Jack supposed it was; flying large scale starships was consuming work.

She finally scooted in front of the navigation egg, peering through the layers and layers of projected information and glowing sensor displays on the glass of the viewing window into the beautiful reflective eyes of a mermaid. She smiled dreamily at Jack as she floated gracefully in the suspending fluid of the egg. She was around 4 feet tall, with a slender feminine torso covered in opalescent white scales that shifted into a curling, ridged neon yellow seahorse tail. Her pale green curls were trapped beneath a pair of headphones she had pulled around her neck- the cord of which disappeared into the top of the egg. Her eyes were the color and quality of mercury, sitting prettily in a heart shaped face. She had a prominent tattoo of an incredibly buff orcish man in a navy cap and not much else along her sternum. Down the sides of her neck and collar Jack could see her gills filtering. Jack had to remind herself to look the woman in her eyes.

“Hi there,” Jack said.

“Yeah, hi,” returned the dreamy voice through the pod, though Jack couldn't see the Mermaids lips move, “Feel free to do what you need to do, We got about- oh… just under 14 minutes now.”

“Right. I don't suppose we could speed that up?” Jack asked

“Speed it up how?”

“Most ships have thrusters I believe, they are used to provide thrust. I would like there to be more thrust.”

“Oh.”

Jack unfolded the titanium blade from her hand and pressed the tip into the glass of the navigation egg with what she hoped was a menacing click, her black eyes meeting the Mermaids mercury ones, “Im hijacking the ship.”

“Oh, Okay.”

“‘Okay?’ What the fuck do you mean, ‘Okay’?”

“I was acquiescing.” the mermaid said.

“I just told you I was stealing the ship. Why would you acquiesce to that? Who says acquiesce anymore?”

“I dunno. Protocol I think.”

“Protocol says to agree to hijacking?”

“Yeah.”

“I need to be through the Hyperlane gate as fast as you can get us there…?”

“Madolyn.”said Madolyn the mermaid.

“Madolyn, hi. My name is-”

An explosion rocked the cabin as the doors in the rear blew open with a wild squeal and cracking of metal and ceramic, with a shower of blue and purple arcane sparks. The Corprobots began to force their way through the exploded doors, kicking and twisting burning out of their way.

“JACK GATHOWAY YOU HAVE BEEN FOUND NON COMPLIANT.” came a loud tinny voice followed by a short burst of gunfire.

Jack yelped and ducked behind the egg as bullets ricocheted around the cabin, struggling to flatten herself against the convex surface.

“Now please Madolyn!” She yelled

“Just feel free to call me Maddie!” she said cheerfully, righting herself in the tank and pulling her headphones back up around her ears. She began to wave her hands fluidly though the fluid, and the ship responded instantly. Jack felt herself pressed firmly into the smooth hard surface of the egg as gravity shifted in response to the acceleration. An echoing crash and the sounds of cursing revealed a corprobot had fallen off of it's feet and tangled the legs of the others.

Jack looked frantically in front of her, the aetheric glow of the gate was huge and all encompassing, trying to stay stuck behind the egg as Maddie swung the starliner in and out of traffic, avoiding the ships trundling there as she continued to accelerate towards the gate.

“Stay where you are!” came a corprobot voice, and then more gunfire, Jack hissed as a ricochet skimmed past her forearm, slicing the skin like a red hot razor. The bots were spreading out, making the precarious cover she had found increasingly tenuous. Between the shouting and gunfire she could hear Maddie cheerfully speaking to someone,

“Thats right Raxxus Control we have been spacejacked, and the culprits are accelerating us directly into the Gate!” A pause, “Nope, it does not seem like re-establishing control of the vessel will be possible.” She gave Jack a thumbs up, and Jack returned the gesture with a weak smile.

A Metallic hand grabbed Jack by the ankle and ripped her out of her hiding spot and she yelled, swinging and kicking, slamming her knife repeatedly into the torso of the corprobot holding her, the aetherium infused titanium sinking into the thick ceramic armor over and over until the bot fell in a shower of purple sparks. More gunfire from the bots- TING! A bullet lodged itself in her metal leg, she almost could have laughed until another one took her in the shoulder and she spun over the controls landing with a bone rattling THUNK on the other side of the defunct console. Maddie was still speaking,

“That's right, we are a passenger vessel, so firing on us is out of the question unfortunately. Eject them? I don't have the authority to do that sir, Im so sorry. Listen we’re about to hit the Gate, it's been lovely to talk to you- what was that? Collision?”

Jack’s eyes widened as she turned to look out the front viewport to see the prow of Starsailer emerge from the gate, followed by its masts and sails, a huge galleon from the ancient days of spacefaring, it's Draconic figurehead looking as surprised to see the Starliner as they were to see it. Maddie hewed the ship hard to port, but it was too late. Jack felt it shudder beneath her before the impact came and she was thrown across the room. She slammed hard into the ceiling, navigation egg, floor, egg again. As the starliner bounced off of the hapless Starsailer’s shields and directly into Raxxus Station itself, metal and glass and ceramic buckled as the momentum of the ship ground it further and further into the Gates’s superstructure. Jack felt the shuddering reverberations of arcane explosions before she saw them, massive roiling purple flames being ejected out of the gate with increasing intensity as the starliner crashed into it before the momentum of the spinning structure caught them and flipped the disintegrating ship entirely and the purple aetheric glow overtook all.

[sirdolraan]

Forward, Ever Forward

(( DWC November 2024 Day 6, Crack/Positive, CW: None; @daily-writing-challenge ))

Lorellai set down the box of herbs, happy to be done with the chore, when she heard a familiar humming coming from deeper in the alchemy shop.

"Bindle, is that you?" she asked, heading down the stairs to find the goblin humming away as he worked at the ornate earthen table.

"Hm? Oh, hey there kiddo, how's tricks?" he replied, not bothering to look up as he coaxed a flame beneath a beaker.

"Oh, I'm doin' fine, all things considered? And you?" she asked, warily. She'd last seen him amidst the ruins, tears running down his face as he gathered up fragments of rubble, yelling to the sky about his investment in Dalaran's real estate, right before Xal'atath blew it up.

"Just peachy kid, peachy and keen even! We're in unknown territory with unknown chemicals and no less than -three-, four if you're quibbly, societies who are hungry for trade and investment! Any goblin worth their salt is drooling at the opportunities to be found out here!"

"So... yer not upset about Dalaran anymore?"

"Oh yeah, that was a -huge- blow to my capital, but it's like that horrifying spider-monster who webbed me up and dragged me away for two weeks of cognitive therapy always said, there's a silver lining to every cloud!" Bindle declared, turning and giving Lorellai a big, toothy, gold-tooth-glinting grin.

"Oh!... You've met Mister Sunflower?"

"Met him? Kid, I'm his star patient, check it out!" Bindle replied, pointing to a gold star prominently displayed on his apron. "I tell you, being kidnapped by a well meaning spider who wants you to be your best self is quite the path to self-actualization! Look out world, Bindle is back in the saddle!"

Lorellai blinked, smiled, and excused herself, hurrying out into the open air. Maybe she should head down and check on Mr. Sunflower's other patients, just to be safe.

[lightlessentwine]

[ELDEN RING GRAND THEORY REVISION 2.2- SUBJECT TO INQUIRIES AND FURTHER REVISION]

The Narrator in the first DLC trailer opens with the line, "Pure and Radiant, he wields love to shrive clean the hearts of men.. There is nothing more terrifying." and frankly every aspect of Miquella's role in the Golden Order is terrifying from his perspective. He had to pass judgement in blessing others, which alone can be enough to break someone. It is from here that we may see part of Miquella's original reason in creating the Haligtree. At some point, it's posed that Miquella became St. Trina to guide followers to the Haligtree. Following the trail that Miquella is St. Trina, it is possible to extrapolate on Messmer's identity when applying the concepts of Alchemy and how it translates to a classical understanding of Analytical Psychology via the Jungian model. a lot of this speculation also ties back to extensive study of the world in-game, as well as a bit of real-world religion, history, perspective, chemistry, biology, crest/art analysis, and more. I may use terms that i don't fully explain. i implore you simply look them up on wikipedia and apply that knowledge to what i am saying, or this will be even longer than it already is

We must first establish that literally anything not understood in a binary in Elden Ring actually confounds and terrifies followers of the Golden Order. It in fact worries Corhyn so deeply that he refuses to believe Goldmask as he grovels in the ashes of the Erdtree-- One of the biggest revelations in the entire game is premised around breaking a binary that was never proven to be a binary at all. In other words, the entire Golden Order is based in dichotomies and binaries and there is a fundamental flaw in that regard; it disregards the individual and non-binary aspects of the World to force them into a simpler mold that was going to fall with time, regardless.- Much like with Gwyn's plight in Dark Souls; it was never about the people of the land with him, it was about preventing a coming age and clinging onto whatever control found in preserving the current one forever.

At the basis, St. Trina may have been able to inhabit Miquella's body because of having been born of a single-bodied Rebis, or at least as the Golden Order sees Marika/Radagon, a God. this is an ability only demonstrated by Marika that Malenia seems incapable of. I believe her bestowment from the outer god of Rot is the reason for her lack of other personal identities; she does not have any others to project other than what she is, due to societal perception of her bestowment/affliction and her choice to let miquella ascend to the role she could be in. In the current age, all she has been doing is dreaming (note: trina) and awakens promptly when we arrive; likely to the only movement of air she's felt in ages

I think Miquella is an entity of purity while St. Trina is a Lunar Reflection; or an Animus in Jungian Psychology, which also has heavy ties to alchemy in reference to "Albedo". She's the hero and protector of the people that Miquella often envisioned within himself. Messmer, residing in the shadow realm, represents a deep seated truth within- a sort of cognitive "Rubedo," or a "Truth in Mind," if you will. he is a truth that Miquella hates as much as others fear, and that nobody wants found. Part of this truth must be Marika's fault, and it has left Miquella with a lingering guilt that he sees as a shadow that was torn from himself and trapped away.

Imagine it like this; if St. Trina is Miquella's image of theirself as a blessed, pure caretaker and a sort of christ-like figure, then Messmer is the part of him that represents "Sins of The Father/Mother" Marika's own rise to power and established order themselves are what created a young Miquella. I believe Marika took whatever purity was within Messmer and literally created Miquella from this. It was with time though, and his noted brilliance and ability to "compel affection," that he found a way to break free of his fated identity which meant breaking free of the Order itself.

Applying the Realm of Shadows to this; having been physically separated from the Lands Between by Marika's own mischievous deeds, it is likely that the shadow realm now acts as a cognitive realm of Marika's, of sorts, which could contain the perception or persona of another person within it. (think Mementos from Persona 5, lol)

So.. Without the current Elden Ring there would be no Order, but the current Order hides the image of a serpent at its center. This seems to represent Messmer. this is the same concept as how a pentagram represents a human in alchemy, while being inverted, it represents a goat, or in most cases, Baphomet.

Baphomet is labeled as half-human, half-animal, male and female, good and evil.. he is referred to as a man but is essentially every binary and every dichotomy that arises from them. He is even seen as both a deity and a demon. I believe Miquella and Radagon's work on discovering the Law of Causality is the main hint toward Messmer's presence, which ties into the rest of the alchemy involved. He is a pagan cult deity who represents balance and neutrality, and is almost always depicted doing a gesture signifying "as above; so below" which is a condensed version of the Law of Causality, already known to be associated with Miquella and Radagon, well before the Shattering; "Causality is an influence by which one event, process, state, or object contributes to the production of another event, process, state, or object where the cause is partly responsible for the effect, and the effect is partly dependent on the cause."

For clarity's sake, because i figure i'll be asked if not addressed: It's not impossible for Messmer and Miquella+Malenia to have all been the first child of Radagon/Marika with this Theory. Malenia was a twin born at the same time as Miquella, so she would be a first child with Miquella. If Messmer is a diety representing neutrality or, as I expect, a product of the Law of Causality, then he would be a product of Miquella as much as Miquella is of him. this idea lends to the possibility of Miquella actually being the remainder that was left over from a splitting where Messmer's counterparts (possibly both Miquella and Malenia, given their twin nature) are representative of his own aspects.. it does is beg a sort of "chicken or egg" paradox, but before we had a realistic answer to that, many would reply- and almost sarcastically, if not for the fact that it was the best answer we had- that the first thing to appear was "the Universe." The modern answer is, in fact, that the egg came first. (whether any of this analogy alludes to the actual lore or not is something i think we'd just have to wait for the expansion to know)

Marika herself had this Shadow hidden away, and this presents rather well because we know that there was a long period of time after the Night of Black Knives that Marika was still active but becoming more distraught, preceding the Shattering. on top of this, more proof resides in that, within Jungian psychology, it is that one's Anima/Animus comes to them in dreams, much like St. Trina came to people in theirs (who, as an Animus herself, was probably motivated by helping malenia look for her Anima, which perhaps never existed). It is also true that a Shadow Persona is borne of conflict tearing at one's conscious until it becomes its own entity, which i've already presumed of Messmer above.

[aetherialpiplup108]

How the Alchemy of Souls Season 1 Ending Perfectly Demonstrates Yeong's Guilt, Uk's Persistence, and the Beauty of their Bond

I should hate the ending of Alchemy of Souls season 1. Jin Mu's random contrived bells showing up and being used as a pivotal series-defining plot-point in the same episode drives me just as insane as it did Mu-deok. And it kills me to watch two characters who are defined by their ability to challenge the world and resist fate succumb to its pressures (note: I don't think this is a flaw in the series since it's simply a fraction of the overarching theme the story is trying to convey but boy did it hurt). I should have been so massively disappointed and yet the climax itself runs rent-free in my head a full year after I saw it for the first time.

First of all, we finally get sword-fighting Yeong again and in the absolute worst way possible. It creates this wonderful cognitive dissonance in your head where you're simultaneously crying in angst while cheering on Jung So-min as she puts on the performance we've been longing for the entire show.

Next, there's the behemoth stabbing scene itself. When Mu-deok regains consciousness in Uk's arms, there's a brief look of confusion in her eyes likely due to the gaps in her memory, the heaving of his voice, the desperate way his arms are wrapped around her, or maybe even the blood seeping between them. But the first thing she says even before processing everything is: "Jang Uk? ...Did I do this?"

Despite embracing the ruthless assassin lifestyle (a hard path she undertook due to the love she felt for her family and the immense grief felt in their loss), Yeong does care about other people. We know this through the way she slyly sneaks in affection towards Uk, helps Yul heal and let go of the guilt he's held onto since running into her as children, and offers Go-won an esoteric companionship they both come to value greatly. In season 2, through amnesiac!Yeong, we're given an even clearer glimpse at her intrinsic compassion through the unhidden empathy she shows to practically everyone she meets.

But the real Cho-Yeong spent years of isolation in Danhyanggok's cruel winters training, breathing, and living for revenge. Knowing only how to kill and draw blood, of course Yeong believed she'd end up hurting anyone stupid enough to come too close. It's why her first instinct is to shear off every potential bond she could make: to protect herself from any more loss and to protect others from her. When it became impossible to deny the love she and Uk shared, Yeong chose to wield it callously to avoid getting attached, to remind him and her that she wasn't round-faced Mu-deok who was free to earn and give affection. She was Naksu. Undeserving, dangerous, poisonous Naksu. We see this thought process and self-denial make a reoccurrence in season 2 when Yeong immediately distances herself from Uk the second she gets her memories back, even if it agonizes her, because she can't bear to hurt him again.

Rather than assigning blame to Jin Mu, she takes her sword through Uk's chest as mere confirmation of what she always believed: how could the ruthless shadow assassin that lives off revenge be allowed to love and be loved?

Yeong's guilt is especially ironic when paired with Jang Uk having no doubt in his mind that she's innocent. He gets stabbed and just pulls her close before he's even able to process what's going on because they'd been there before at Jeojingak when he had her hold a sword to his neck.

Jang Uk is the first and only person, really, to hold complete confidence not in Yeong's prowess as a mage but in her character and ability to care. And it means more because as her pupil, he's the person (aside from herself) that Yeong's been the harshest with. She continually put his life in danger whether through poison or overtraining or by inciting death matches, and hurts him again and again with words and actions (gambling the jade egg) meant to prod right at his insecurities. Yeong had thought this would be enough to keep him at bay, to force him into a transactional relationship where she wasn't afraid he'd run away too soon and yet wouldn't let herself build up hope that he'd actually stay when the terms of their initial agreement were met.

Except.

Uk had already seen glimpses of that lonely girl Yeong buried inside and actually tried to understand her, failing at times but doing his best to make sense of the way she thinks without judgement. In the process, he realized just how much Yeong values the people she loves, how much she wants to protect those who've shown her even the ounce of kindness she doesn't think she deserves. That's how he knows, instinctively, that she couldn't have stabbed him. It's how he knows she wouldn't even fight Dang-gu (although, I'm not sure if he was aware that she killed Cho-yeon's father before arriving in the forest). Because how could someone who's so grateful for the love they deem themselves undeserving of cast it aside so easily?

And finally, because somewhere along the way this post devolved from a loosely structured rant over one scene to a frantic gush over these two ridiculously endearing characters, the beauty of the climax is shown in the way Uk just watches helplessly as Yeong struggles and breaks down in a way so uncharacteristic of the stoic, emotion-swallowing woman who could only say "I like you" under copious amounts of alcohol. It's so unbelievably soft (idk, maybe I'm just a lunatic) when he slowly searches for her hand, using the last pieces of his strength and then some to lace their wounded fingers together, somehow managing to use his entire blood-soaked body in the last 2 minutes to show her that she has his entire heart, whether she deserved it or not, and there wasn't anything she could do that would make him leave.

of course, these are just my interpretations of the characters. Maybe I'm completely off or reading way too much into it.

tl;dr: I have a lot of criticism for certain aspects of Alchemy of Souls, but the relationship Jang Uk and Cho Yeong share is so powerful. Though tragic and shockingly reliant on plot-convenience, the finale of season 1 depicts their relationship beautifully by illustrating the depth of their trust and reliance on the other. Also, UkYeong has rooted itself thoroughly in my head. I've never been so invested in a ship, someone send help!!!!!

[joking-suggestions]

a kind of analysis on albedo

I feel like a lot of people mischaracterized albedo a lot since he's an artificial human being and he constantly gets compared to an emotionless robot when, well...he clearly is not.

as a homunculus albedo was created with the intent of following the sample of any other human being, as Wikipedia says:

" A homunculus (UK: /hɒˈmʌŋkjʊləs/ hom-UNK-yuul-əs, US: /hoʊˈ-/ hohm-, Latin: [hɔˈmʊŋkʊlʊs]; "little person") is a representation of a small human being, originally depicted as small statues made out of clay. Popularized in sixteenth-century alchemy and nineteenth-century fiction, it has historically referred to the creation of a miniature, fully formed human. "

this means that those children, except for their peculiarities, were not that different from any other human child.

" That the sperm of a man be putrefied by itself in a sealed cucurbit for forty days with the highest degree of putrefaction in a horse's womb, or at least so long that it comes to life and moves itself, and stirs, which is easily observed. After this time, it will look somewhat like a man, but transparent, without a body. If, after this, it be fed wisely with the Arcanum of human blood, and be nourished for up to forty weeks, and be kept in the even heat of the horse's womb, a living human child grows therefrom, with all its members like another child, which is born of a woman, but much smaller. "

just because albedo was artificially created does not affect his cognitive processing of feelings.

moreover, I think this misconception originated from the fact that albedo is apparently a calm and reserved person. but of course we know that someone relatively calmer isn't necessarily cold-hearted, they just have a subtle way of expressing themselves. an introvert isn't a cold person, do you agree, my introverted fellas?

genshin tries to additionally point out in its special events how albedo is warm at heart and is slowly learning (through the traveler and his personal life experiences) how to open up to others. that's called character development.

Albedo's Artwork - Friendship Lv. 4

" (...) When strolling through Mondstadt, he enjoys sketching and painting all manner of living things, but particularly people in moments of joy. Sometimes, he even gifts his artwork to his unsuspecting models, believing that when a work of art captures a transient moment of enjoyment, it is something worth treasuring. (...) "

I would like to ask you, would a numb and insensitive person gift their sketches to random strangers on the street just to make them smile? or...would such a person try to look after a child? listen up, if klee loves her older brother so much it's because she truly feels at ease with him. taking care of children isn't an easy task, so of course, albedo needs to be emotionally aware of their feelings in order to properly taking care of them.

besides, I think we also have to take into account how he grew up. "childhood" is fundamental when it comes to our adult personality, as phycology teaches us. albedo has likely spent centuries of his existence by his master's side, probably without getting in touch with anyone but her during that time. he was raised with strict rules to abide by, and rigid learning schemes to attend, otherwise he risked arguably to be abandoned by his mother, the only person he looked up to. so, OF COURSE, albedo is so reclusive, that's just how he was used to live after all this time. now that he's finally living a normal life in mondstadt he's slowly learning how to deal with other people too. it's a process, but he's getting there.

and yet, he still puts work first because that's what he has done for the equivalent of a lifetime, to the point he neglects even his own well-being. that's everything that was taught him. albedo is basically trying to accomplish his master's last mission, everyone else in this case is just a distraction. if he gets distracted he might fail, and failure means disappointing everyone and, consequently, being left alone. again. I like to think that, in the end, albedo doesn't approach people much because he's afraid od rejection. albedo is afraid of not meeting people expectations about him, he is aware that he's different from all the normal folks in town, or even in the world.

but, he's changing. he's slowly learning the importance of befriend other people. perhaps, maybe it's part of his mission, too?

albedo does care. a lot. he struggles with expressing his feelings, but the affection of his friends and family is there and he's getting the importance of it.

[fictionadventurer]

"I will not lie down to sleep till I have told you again that I love you."

'"Love is the fulfilling of the law," and the law of our love is liberty."

"The Tyranny of our love is sweet."

"This surpasses alchemy. It is divine. It is a new proof of the truth that "God is love."

You'd think these would be quotes from some poet or epic romance. The kind of thing that people quote on tumblr gifsets or get tattooed or whatever. But they were written by 20th President of the United States James A. Garfield writing to his actual wife, and I don't know how to deal with that. The cognitive dissonance is wild.

[ryin-silverfish]

Chapter 14: The Mind Monkey Cometh!

-This chapter begins with a poem by Zhang Boduan, a Daoist master of the Quanzhen Sect whose theory of internal alchemy heavily inspired that of JTTW's, and would appear later in the book as an immortal guest star.

"The dharmakaya has no shape or form…"

-Hmm, what is a dharmakaya? The Yu translation doesn't have a footnote for that, so here's my brief explanation: in Mahayana Buddhist beliefs, there's the idea of the Trikaya, the Three Bodies of the Buddha——three facets of existence for an enlightened being.

-Dharmakaya, "Body of the Law"(法身), is the bits of pure existence and universal Buddha-nature in all living things that is immutable and eternal.

-Sambhogakaya, "Body of Benefits"(报身), is the miraculous body a practitioner attains after countless trials and cultivation that receives all the good karma they have accumulated over the years.

-Nirmanakaya, "Manifested Body/Body of Transformation"(应身), is the physical form a Buddha/Bodhisattva takes in order to assist and educate the masses, and can be anything, from a holy statue to a person to a plate of food.

(Very unserious analogy: if Buddhahood is water, dharma-kaya is like H2O molecules, sambhoga-kaya is like the ocean, and nirmana-kaya is the convenient cup of drink nearby that can quench your thirst.)

-Boqin mentioned that SWK was trapped under the mountain during the time of Wang Mang's usurpation(9-23 CE), between Western and Eastern Han dynasty. Which, if we are to be chronologically accurate, would be 600-something years before Tripataka's pilgrimage instead of 500.

-The 100 years off may post a problem to people who wanna calculate SWK's birth year and age for fun; I, however, am more interested in the fact that he was either born in the Spring-Autumn or Warring States period, and the earlier option would make him a contemporary of Confucius(551-479 BCE).

-Just imagine him going "Confucius? Really tall guy, lotta students, wandered from state to state lookin' for work? Yep, I think I ran into an old man like that while seeking immortality!"

-Allegorically, the Six Robbers represent the six senses, something the footnote has pointed out. However, I feel like this warrants a more in-depth explanation.

-The Yogacara School——not the Ming administrative division, but the tradition of Buddhist thought the historical Xuanzang followed, has a theory of consciousness that divides the mind into eight layers. The first five layers are the five senses, and the inputs they receive are sent to the sixth layer of Thought for processing.

(Reference to these six also appears in the Heart Sutra: "None is shown by eye, ear, nose, tongue, body nor mind"——无眼耳鼻舌身意)

-Beneath the sixth layer is the seventh layer, Manas, which sends the processed information to the eighth layer, and is the layer responsible for the illusion of selfhood + all the woes that stem from said illusion. The final layer, Alaya-vijnana, is the consciousness that stores all information in the universe, and contains the bits of inherent Buddha-nature obscured by regular human cognition.

-The historical Xuanzang had a poem that referred to Alaya as the "Master/Head of Household", and the Yogacara theory of consciousness was also taken up by later Daoist thinkers, who believed that Alaya was the same as the internal alchemy concept of "Spiritual Mind"(元神).

-That's why SWK refers to himself as the Six Robbers' proper master, the True Mind who is supposed to dominate these senses. However, my personal reading of the allegory is that he isn't the True Mind yet, and his killing of the Six Robbers is akin to someone who uses extreme means to free themself from worldly distractions.

-Like, sensory pleasures and experiences can be very distracting and serve as a serious obstacle to getting things done, but you don't free yourself from those distractions by blinding your eyes and cutting out your tongue and engaging in self-imposed sensory deprivation.

-Thus, Tripataka's chastisement isn't just about SWK committing multiple homicides and violating Buddhist laws. The way I see it, it's also a subtle way of telling you that the mastery of heart and mind cannot be forced, and a truly powerful practitioner is one who can triumph over the distractions of the senses without cutting themself off from the world.

@journeythroughjourneytothewest

[lesewut]

'Nature speaks in its own tongue.'

From the book series Secret Sciences - A collection of older and newer writings on alchemy, magic, Kabbalah, Rosicrucianism, Freemasonry, witches and devils Published by A . v. Linden in 1918 after the  Amstadam original edition of 1700.  16th volume:  Seraphinic  Flower-Garden,  selections from the mystical-religious writings of Jakob Böhme.

'Magia is the Book of all students.'

Mysticism should not only be interpreted as a significant phenomenon of intellectual and religious history, but as the awakening of the religious feeling concerning nature. Perhaps certain symbolic interpretations have receded into the background of our rationally calculated world, since everything that cannot be empirically proven is dismissed as a phantasm. But if the human being separates himself from his collective deep consciousness, he lacks a decisive possibility to (re-)connect with deep collective consciousness. Mysticism has the aim to deepen the soul for religion and art, a poignant love unparalleled in the world/s of appearances. Dwelling in a cosmic strive for connecting with God and the Divine Energy, without the profanity of manifestation in images, but in a astonishing cognitive emotionality. Through the art of inner liturgy it can be possible to trace the ontological search for the human’s home. The eternal questions, like fixed stars above the head of the dust born, have been no less relevant since the first question, and yet have not come closer to the truth, which is always in progress and false, when decorated as stored and captured. And don't we notice with every achievement how our collected knowledge is revised in the cosmic expanses? That we are almost forced to think outside the box and to regard regularity in chaos as an illusion? The cosmic rift is not only dividing humanity from the cosmos, it divided man from himself and thus also human beings from each other. In the centre of revelation, which is common in all mystic practices: learning and learning to know the self, in order to understand more.

’Be sober, watch, fast and pray that you may deafen earthly reason and make it dead at once, that God's Spirit may take place in you! When he appears, he soon overcomes earthly reason and looks at the will in fear with its love and sweetness, since then always a beautiful twig is born out of the tree of faith, and serves all tribulations and temptations for the very best of the children of God.’

'Man comes to know the Creator in contemplation of himself.'

[so-true-overdue]

The Gospel of Immunity: A Sermon on the Sacred Shield of Vaccination

Behold, the paradox of human cognition: we champion progress, yet tremble before its fruits.

In a world spinning upon the axis of relentless biological warfare—our cells besieged by microbial marauders—vaccines stand as sentinels, the silent paladins of immunological defense. Yet, their divine efficacy is often questioned by those who worship at the altar of anecdote, forsaking the empirical cathedral of science.

Consider the Magnitude of Their Grace

Vaccines are not mere concoctions of modern alchemy. They are the crystallized wisdom of centuries, born of Pasteur’s tenacity, Jenner’s courage, and the accumulated trials of countless minds wielding microscopes like swords. They have subdued polio’s paralysis, exorcised smallpox’s specter, and shielded countless millions from the venoms of measles, tetanus, and pertussis.

And what of their adversaries? The infinitesimal specter of adverse reactions. Let us quantify the peril: the risk of a severe allergic reaction to a vaccine—a dreaded anaphylaxis—is approximately one in a million. To contextualize, the chance of being struck by lightning in one’s lifetime is 1 in 15,300. Shall we eschew umbrellas next? Or perhaps condemn electricity itself as too great a hazard to endure?

On Negotiation with Risk

Vaccination is not the obliteration of risk; it is a calculated negotiation with uncertainty. To vaccinate is to weigh the scales of harm and benefit, to face the specter of a one-in-a-million reaction and declare that the lives of millions are worth that gamble. Contrast this with the toll exacted by diseases unopposed: measles alone claims the lives of over 100,000 annually, most of them children. This is not conjecture—it is arithmetic, immutable and unyielding.

Shall we refuse the shield because it may chafe? Shall we spurn the ship because it cannot promise calm seas? Such is the folly of those who elevate potential discomfort above the preservation of collective health. They barter statistical insignificance for certainty of peril, trading herd immunity for herd vulnerability.

The Poetry of Immune Memory

The true marvel of vaccination is not merely its prevention but its pedagogy. Vaccines instruct our immune system, training it to recognize the invader before the battle has begun. They are rehearsals for wars that may never come. To vaccinate is to inscribe within the body a symphony of defense, a living testament to humanity’s ingenuity and resilience.

Without this foresight, the immune system becomes a tactician unprepared for the ambush. Disease ravages unchecked, leaving scars upon both flesh and society. Vaccines, therefore, are not just medicinal; they are ethical. They embody the moral imperative to protect not only oneself but the vulnerable—the infant, the immunocompromised, the elder.

A Closing Admonition

Let us not falter in the face of misinformation, for it spreads with a virulence rivaling the diseases we seek to defeat. Let us arm ourselves with knowledge and statistics, with reason and compassion. The act of vaccination is an act of faith—not blind faith, but faith rooted in evidence, nurtured by science, and borne aloft by the unassailable truth that humanity is stronger united.

Go forth, then, and spread the gospel of immunity. For in the armory of progress, the needle is mightier than the microbe.