#dread beaver

[sheepheadfred]

Ectoberhaunt Day 13: Isekai: Old Hero New World

Summary: Danny doesn't know how he got here, but science seems to have advanced a lot... and gotten very animal focused?!

(cw: alternating pov)

Ao3 link

An explosion in the lab and a tumble through a random portal inside the realms later, Danny has no idea where he is.

Blue skies, green plants. He knows he must be on Earth, but where?

Doesn't help that the green is getting closer as he moves upwards. Oh, he's going down!

Are those trees?

Oh yeah, he also seems to be falling!

Danny sure hopes he's in ghost form. Not looking forward to if this is how he kicks the bucket for real. Either way, this is gonna hurt.

No energy to scream and barely conscious as it is, snapping branches snuff out any awareness he momentarily had.

The Wild Kratts crew are relaxing in the Tortuga when Koki gets an alert by some Wild Kratts Kids. It was Aiden! Something strange happened in the forest near his home.

Something had a big crash in the woods and it seems to have scared the animals near by and the kids are worried.

Could it be one of their usual villains? Maybe, but they tend to be more subtle than this. Hopefully it's not a new villain they need to worry about.

The crew packs up and heads to the North American Eastern Woodlands, full of concern and mounting dread.

Danny wakes on a bed of broken branches and is surrounded by trees walling him in, the sun shining through the canopy. A squirrel napping on him scurried away as he sat up to take in his surroundings more clearly.

How long was I out?

He's not Sam and can't identify plants on sight, but he's pretty sure this forest is local or at least similar to what he's used to. He thinks these might be oak trees but don't quote him on that. It just seems likely that he at least stayed in the U.S. is all.

It'd be easier to find out where he is if he could check the stars but, sadly, it's the middle of the day. No stars for him. A shame.

Checking himself for injuries, he finds that he must have changed back after crashing. The timing for it makes the most sense for one.

Hoping he doesn't have a concussion or any broken bones that he can't feel, Danny starts to walk through the forest. Too worn out to fly for now.

That and he doesn't know if its safe to risk it or if someone would see Phantom and call the GIW or something.

Danny limped forward in the direction he chose randomly and saw the sun peaking brighter through the trees. Hoping that it means there's a clearing, he speeds up as much as he can.

The closer he got, the louder and more distinct voices became in that direction.

They sound young.

Once he reached the edge of the forest and into the clearing, his legs gave out. He has been walking without rest since he woke up and Danny can't even remember when he last ate.

As he blacks out, his only thought was how he must look to the kids who had to be nearby.

Hope this doesn't traumatize them.

The crew arrives on scene. The clearing near the beaver pond seems undamaged but they know better than to just judge without investigating.

The area is eerily quiet, especially for this time of day.

Jimmy pulls them in for a landing and the others get ready to disembark. Kratt brothers Martin and Chris make their way to the concerned children first thing when the Tortuga landed.

"Ok, just to be clear. What did you hear?" Martin beat Chris to the punch in asking.

"There was a big crash deep in the woods. And then the whole forest went quiet. We haven't seen almost any animals since." The older of the two brothers answered, the younger one nodding to confirm he heard it, too.

After deliberating with the others, the Kratt brothers were about to venture into the woods to investigate. About to.

Because right before they could, a boy, early teens at oldest, stumbled out of the forest looking like he had been through a very rough hike.

Meanwhile, miles away but in the same forest hours ago:

The whelp didn't notice him?! What an insult. The halfling is quick to notice the presence of a ghost, even if due to that 'ghost sense' of his. To not be noticed means it was on purpose or something is wrong with his prey. Yet he seemed to be functioning like usual!

Skulker hovers above the treeline, watching Danny plummet into the leafy abyss.

"Pathetic. The whelp really must be slipping if he failed to notice me. Although his parents were right there and disrupted the sanctity of my hunt! They have no respect for actual hunters. Closer to savages who target indiscriminately than a hunter who can tell which prey is worth the effort and which are bottom feeders best left alone. Even the whelp knows that! They are more akin to Plasmius and his cruel experiments on the recently dead and never born than true hunters." The ghost thought out loud to himself, mentally marking his observations down as he flew. Grumbling along the way. "It should not matter where the hunt took place, even inside the cursed residence."

He left to find something more fun to hunt in the meantime. The whelp was no fun when he doesn't bring a challenge!

And he didn't have to search long.

He didn't happen upon a creature catching his eyes but another hunter! One with a different style and class than he's seen the human world have before! Even if he hasn't really seen most of the human world. He won't stay, of course, but he can observe these new methods and see if he can add them to his own style. The possibilities are endless.

Coming into consciousness was never fun as he was forced to take stock of what is wrong. Danny is sure more damage to his person happened since the last time he did so. A few hours ago. He thinks.

He has never been good at telling time on a good day, let alone on a day where he hasn't been aware of time's passing.

Sitting up, he realized his burns he can now feel have fresh bandages on and that he is not alone or surrounded by trees this time.

He seems to instead be in some kind of medical room. Not professional and it lacks the smell of antiseptic and buzzing of florescent lighting of a hospital. One less thing to worry about, he supposed.

I am getting real tired of not knowing what's going on.

A young woman poked her head in the room. She had a tan complexion, neatly tied back hair, and a bright yellow jacket. Her face lit up once she saw him, kind brown eyes landing on him.

"Hey, we were worried about you!"

Danny doesn't know this woman nor why she'd be worried. Sure he was hurt, but he got hurt all the time!

In lieu of answering with words, he used his very confused expression and pointed to himself to ask and make sure.

"Yes, you! What kind of kid goes hiking in the middle of the woods without any gear or ways of communication?"

Oh yeah, my phone should still be in my room. Haven't had the chance to tell anyone something happened. That and something was in the lab, of course I went alone!

"Someone who woke up there and just started walking." Danny was still groggy having just woken up, his mouth moved before his thoughts caught up with him.

"Just woke up there?!"

Ooops, guess that was the wrong thing to say.

"Sorry? It was the middle of the night when someone broke in and the sun was up when I woke up in the middle of all the trees."

Her face looks sickened.

SHIIIT. WHY CAN'T I SAY THE RIGHT THING?!

"What I meant was 'Hi, my name is Danny, what is yours?'!" he near panic shouted out of sheer embarrassment.

Taking a second, the woman in yellow tried to get her thoughts in order while making sure her mouth worked. Hopefully better than his as he keeps putting his foot in his mouth.

"R-right, I'm Aviva and you're on the Tortuga. The headquarters of the Wild Kratts crew."

"That was a lot of words that you said. I don't know what a 'Tortuga' or a 'Wild Kratts' is but it's nice to meet you, Aviva." Danny answered her with a polite smile and an attempt at a handshake which she thankfully returned.

"Well, it seems we both have questions. How about I get the others so I'm not the only one trying to clear this up with you? Or you can move to the main area when you're ready. Ayaiyai, I am not the team medic. I think I'll grab someone else to clear you and get you something to eat and drink. They'll want to know you're awake, anyway."

All he could do was not as she left the room muttering to herself like mad with a dazed expression.

Great, more strangers. At least I can get answers soon. Hopefully.

Martin and Chris were investigating the forest. Something mysterious is happening and they don't like what they've been seeing.They found the spot of broken branches a good ways in like something fell from way up high.

They sure hope it wasn't anything alive because they doubt whatever it was would have survived the fall. But given that there are nothing but broken branches, either an animal dragged it off or the fallen object got up on its own.

It wasn't just that. If it was just whatever fell, the forest wouldn't be as silent as it is. It's giving them an eerie feeling.

Chris searches for clues from the trees as the climbing brother while Martin checks from the ground.

Heavy boot prints and purposefully damaged plant life hints at someone dangerous out here. They worry about the kid they found who came from this direction and woke up here according to him if Aviva's report is accurate.

They decide to continue investigating a bit longer before heading back. Their animal friends could be in danger and a kid has been targeted!

Only, they didn't need to continue looking. The air grew colder when before the sun kept them warm and now it's like the sun can't reach them. A deafening silence even more noticeable over the lack of forest noise, and a new sound of the whine of small rockets like a jet pack.

Out of the corner of their eyes they could see a silver suit of armor and flaming green hair. A net suddenly sprung out at them and they barely managed to dodge!

The only thing they heard from this new villain was him calling for a 'whelp' and that nothing else in the area would be worth his time, but that they would do for now.

Danny made his way to the main area of this building he woke up in, having gotten tired of waiting, when he heard an alarm. Still exhausted, he braces against the wall after the noise assaults his ears.

What the?

Now fully awake, he tries to understand what has everyone in such a tizzy.

Two men were on a video call on the big screen talking to Aviva, a ginger, and a black woman he has yet to meet. Talking about a new villain searching for some rare creature he called a 'whelp' while stomping around in a metal suit.

A new villain? Wait... 'Whelp'? Oh no.

Danny is now glad no one noticed him because now he can sneak out as Phantom. His reserves are still low but if Skulker is here looking for him, then he's gonna get him!

Not gonna let some innocent civilians get hurt because he's too tired. He never let that stop him before!

... Though, he will have to be smart about his powers. They don't know about him, maybe even ghosts in general, and he doesn't want to ruin a forest because a ghost followed him all the way out here.

On his way out, he got to see the place from the outside and he just knows his friends would be jealous once their worry moves out of the way. A turtle ship! Not too unbelievable from what he's seen but it's amazing. A combination of both Sam and Tucker's passion!

Well, I can always be fascinated later.The dead never rest, after all.

He snaps out of his momentary awe and leaves towards where he first woke up. Following the now twice over haunted forest trail.

Further into the forest, the brothers were dealing with this guy. Or trying to at least.

It's like this anything they do goes straight through him!

Don't get them wrong, they are glad they are being targeted instead of some poor animal but c'mon! This guy has to be getting tired at some point! Even if it's just his suit getting overused.

He kept demanding information of where whatever creature he was looking for was. Which, even if they got what he meant specifically by 'whelp' and 'half ghost' they'd never rat out any creature to someone who'd want to hurt them, anyway!

And then, he decided since they aren't helpful, they might as well be target practice! Who does this?!

They're on the back foot, trying to get away when suddenly a blast of green energy comes from behind. Shooting right in between the brothers and hitting the suit or armor guy square in the chest. Pushing the villain back a few feet and leaving a strange, charged smell in the air.

Whatever that was, the new villain grinned at the arrival.

The crew back at the Tortuga scrambled.

A new villain, a hunter by the sounds of it, is looking for a creature he calls 'whelp' or 'halfling'.

And to make matters worse, when Aviva went to check on the injured kid and he was gone. He vanished as if he was a ghost!

She was the one to check on him because he already met her and now she's even more worried about him! She's glad they already sent the Wild Kratts kids who called them here home. It wouldn't do to worry about their safety, too!

He said he just woke up in the middle of the woods and some of his wounds are older than just the last few hours he has to have been hiking for. More like stumbling! He's lucky the direction he picked led him to other people!

How did he up and leave without anyone noticing, anyway? Even if they were busy, someone should have heard him leave! Right?

No! Don't beat yourself up for this, Aviva! Focus on the task at hand for now! A new villain is in these woods now and the injured kid disappeared! They could be connected somehow!

She jumped on a Buzz Bike after letting the others know she was on her way, and left towards the action.

The brothers Kratt only had a moment to turn their head to see the newcomer before things started happening again. The world felt like it was on pause between the blast and the newcomer floating in there, feet off the ground, as they gave a sassy and confident smirk.

Whoever this was had the physical appearance of a young teenager with snow white hair and glowing green eyes, shining the same color that is lighting up his outstretched fist. He seemed to be glowing the same white as his hair and off-putting aura that the man before them was. An aura that wasn't that noticeable before now is amplified. The rest of him was in black and white like a strange bodysuit with a stylized D on his chest. An emblem like their paw print ones on the power suits.

The power suits!

That gives them and idea.

Before they left to find some creatures, they could hear the robotic armor and newcomer exchange banter like they knew each other.

"Ah, so you finally show yourself!"

"Skulker, you asshole! First you broke into the lab and shot me in the back and now you are just throwing a tantrum because I'm not here to entertain you! What the hell!"

"You know full well how this goes, ghost child."

"But at 2 AM?! I just managed to pass out. And because you attacked in the house, the house's defenses activated! I am so tired of you and I'm running on negative sleep!"

Wait... the 'whelp' was this KID?!

The newly dubbed 'Skulker' refuted the accusation that he blew up whatever lab the kid was in. Then shouting about some kind of 'Frootloop' was the last they heard before they made a retreat.

Who that kid is doesn't matter right now, it's time to find some creature powers to help him out. They don't want to leave the kid alone with that guy for long, he looks and is acting like he can handle it but he's clearly very tired. Skulker is very clearly armed and dangerous!

Aviva made her way to the boys, having no idea where Danny wandered off to and only able to focus on one thing at the moment, when the brothers quite literally crashed into her. Leaving them all sprawled on the ground for a hot minute before picking themselves back up.

"Guys?! What is going on?"

"We wish we could tell you." Martin replied first, taking a second to process things.

"What we do know," Chris chimed in, "is that what we need is some creature power. There is a dangerous villain farther in and we need to help that mystery kid fighting him!"

"What? Is there someone else out there? Did you say 'kid'?"

"Yeah, and we need to help them. They showed up out of nowhere to help fight off Skulker, that's the villains name apparently by the way, but they seemed really tired just after one hit!"

"What?!"

"Yeah. We need to help them! Hopefully after we can learn who this person is, too!"

"Well, more than being the 'whelp' Skulker was searching for!"

The boys ran off in different directions, finding a different creature to transform into.

Aviva was left there, stunned.

Today has been so confusing.

And not the fun way.

She's going to help even if she doesn't know everything that's going on or so help her!

Aviva gets back on the Buzz Bike and heads for the action.

Danny has less energy than he thought!

One blast and he's already struggling to not change back again.

Damn Skulker! First his ghost sense wakes him up and then he comes at him from behind, pushing him into this mess!

Sure, maybe the lab explosion was probably not entirely his fault but there's a whole lot else from that night that was.

Danny is pretty sure adrenaline and rage are all that's keeping him moving, but what else is new?

Having to doge and weave through the trees while Skulker can go right through them, apparently finding it fun to have trees as obstacles. Frustrating but he knows the alternative is the fight above the trees and he's not sure he could stay in the air long enough for that.

Exhaustion dragging through him, right to his bones even in this form, is his body's payback for not resting enough even if he never really gets to.

One wrong turn and a failed dodge later, and he slammed into a tree. Winded, tired, and in a daze. Struggling to catch his breath, all he can do is lean on this tree that caught him mid-flight. Collapsing under his own weight.

He was sure that this was it for him, when suddenly a large green bird and a human sized bipedal blue wolf, he thinks, started attacking Skulker from two different sides.

It wasn't until they spoke did he realize that they were the two men Skulker was fighting earlier! At least Danny thinks so? Today has been wild for him. But he is pretty sure he at least heard their voices back at that giant mechanical turtle.

The green bird man took the fight to the sky, Skulker following him. The ghost is curious and confused, yet intrigued. He hopes they aren't some rare creature for him to hunt, too!

While one went off to take the fight out of here, the blue brother stayed behind. The man came up to him, concern etched onto his face.

"Hey, kid. Are you alright? Standard question, I know, but a response would be good." This was said in a light tone but caution was in his voice.

Shit, is he talking to me? Great, hope my mouth works properly this time.

"Yeah", a groan escaped him as he tried to stand while the world spun, "Just trying to find the bus that ran me over."

"Buddy, I can say with certainty that getting up right now is not a good idea for you."

"But if I don't fight him, who will? He could hurt someone! Besides, I'm used to this."

The man frowned, looking a bit heartbroken. Danny didn't understand why, especially while in this state. No one else minded he did all this stuff. Danger is the price to pay for living in Amity Park, let alone being a Fenton!

"How about this, you tell me what you usually do when fighting him and we can let my brother know? He's the green bird you saw earlier."

Danny wanted to protest but he could barely see straight. Can he really trust these guys? He wants to but his head is pounding too much to think clearly.

"I don't even know your name, wolf-man."

The blue wolf man paused, before chuckling a bit, "Oh, right! I'm Martin and my brother is Chris. We're the Kratt brothers! Most people we run into are able to recognize us so I forgot you probably wouldn't know."

"Huh", Danny's mouth tried to work as he processed this. Martin and Chris are apparently big names here! But all he could say was, "Didn't know a bird and a wolf could be related like that, are you adopted?"

"Wha-", he looks at himself and realizes he's still transformed, " Oh! No this is from my creature power suit! Our friend, Aviva, invented them. Programming and form and everything! Animal DNA and nature know-how takes care of the rest!"

Huh! Technology sure can be impressive! Especially when it's not centered on his and other ghosts' destruction!

"Oh." Apparently he cannot talk today, "I'm Phantom."

While trying to remember what else he was asked, an explosion shook the trees, stopping any further conversation.

Coming back down through the trees was Chris, plummeting right on top of them, screaming.

Martin moved to catch his brother. To keep him from getting more hurt and to keep Phantom from being directly impacted. A glow of green and blue signifying the crash to cause their deactivation.

The light from their de-transformations caught Phantom's eye. They can change just like him! He thinks he can trust them with this, after all.

Oh, no! But that could be bad if Skulker decides to want them for that!

Wait... Skulker!

"Ya gotta remove his head."

The now human looking brothers look at him in disbelief. Chris showed confusion as well as only Martin had context for that.

"Oh, right! Chris, this kid is Phantom! Phantom, this is Chris!"

"Bro, that only answered one question."

Danny just realized they are both looking at him.

Right, it's not obvious. Forgot.

"The head of his suit. It comes off," Danny tried to explain while his head and mouth were not working right, "then ya gotta use this."

He hands them the Fenton Thermos.

"For soup?"

"Nooooo, ya gotta uncap it and just point it at him once the head is off. It'll get him to stop."

Dannys instructions were not as clear as they should be but they had no choice but to try it.

Able to get around the trees better and with Skulkers attention back on Phantom, they managed to knock his head off.

And they were really not prepared for what happened next.

With the head now off, the body just went limp.

Like no one was inside.

Then they looked at the head in their hands and tiny, green feet were sticking out of them. Kicking wildly.

"Use the thermos!"

Phantom's strained yell startled them that they dropped the thermos and almost dropped the head.

Only to be picked up by Aviva, coming in clutch.

Danny tried to explain what to do, but he's unsure if what came out made sense.

Well, either it did or she was able to intuit what needed to happen, as she did exactly what she needed to do.

She pointed the thermos and aimed it at the knocked off head. Skulker finally was able to force himself out of his robotic head right before the beam hit him.

His booger-y form is visible for all to see and cursing them all.

Danny laughed at his small form, feeling good about this.

"Hey, guess what! I can transform like you guys!" Danny exclaimed, impulse making an executive decision.

And Danny let his transformation rings wash across his body, passing out again for the second time that day. Oblivious to the three adults' shocked faces.

Back in the Tortuga, hours later:

"...And that's what happened. I'm pretty sure that the portal spit me out somewhere completely different or even a different dimension. I don't have time to keep up to date on most news usually, but I'm pretty sure either of my friends would be raving about you guys. One's an extreme activist and the other is a tech nerd who'd totally geek out about this ship."

Danny, bandaged and rested up, explained all that happened leading up to here since he was last home. He slipped in some things about his home and his friends and family. Even ending with what he thinks is a lame smile and jazz hands.

"Everything I learn about you makes me more concerned." One of them said. Danny thinks her name was 'Koki'.

"Yeah, dude. That is seriously messed up," JZ chimed in, "This guy wasn't even one of the more dangerous ones? Are you sure you should even go back?"

"Speaking to the choir, dude. I'm well aware how messed up my half life is. But it is my life, y'know? I need to be able to get back."

Despite the adults' clear hesitation about sending him back, they don't want to trap him here away from the people he loves. That's what their villains try to do when they kidnap baby animals! With what they old him, he can at least trust them to help him get home.

Somehow.

"How will I get home, anyway? I can do some basic engineering from being around my parents' stuff my whole life but I'm not sure where to start!" Danny had to ask. He feels like he can ask them despite the uncertainty. It's not often he comes across adults he can feel this way about.

"Oh, I can help with that!"

"Aviva? I thought you did animal based engineering and inventing?"

"Si, I am. But if I managed to crack time travel, even just a bit, then I don't see how I can't do this, too!

"Now, that is some confidence! Time travel? Do tell!"

"Oh!" The brothers simultaneously looked at her and Danny, "She invented a time trampoline!"

"We went back in creature time to meet extinct animals!"

They practically talked over each other out of excitement.

"A trampoline?!" Danny could hardly believe that human made time travel existed here, let alone one that functioned like a trampoline!

The group laughed good naturedly at his reaction, as understandable as it was.

"I think we all agree that you can stay with us until a way home is secured. Bet you never got to fly in a giant turtle ship, before?" Jimmy casually tells him in his usual, laid back tone.

"You bet I haven't! I did successfully land a NASA shuttle once, though. That was a story and a half for sure. I've done a lot of flight simulators in preparation to be an astronaut!"

It felt good to be able to passionately talk about what he loves with others who can share back different passions.

"Ah, a future space boy, huh?," JZ responded, "Thinking about life on other planets?"

"One of the many things to think about regarding space!" Space talk really brought out Danny's energy.

"Oh,"Koki added, "bet he doesn't know about tardigrades!"

"What are those?"

"Tardigrade, or a water bear, is a small creature, usually only visible with a microscope that can survive in even the harshest environments. Creatures like the tardigrade show us that life could be possible out there in ways we never thought possible." It's like all of them took turns infodumping that he wasn't able to discern who said which part as he took in the information.

"Those things sound so cool! How do we find them?"

"I guess we can show you. You are staying until you can go home after all!"

He's looking forward to future adventures while they last. To learning about animals he never once though twice about and giving their villains a good scare.

"Oh yeah," a thought just occurred to him, "what does 'tortuga mean? Like why did you make that the name of your giant turtle ship?"

"Danny," Aviva said with a smirk,"'Tortuga' means 'turtle' in Spanish!"

Danny's face lit up red in embarrassment and everyone laughed at his expense. He felt warm and welcome here, a way he hasn't back home in a long time if ever.

If animals and how they work were taught anything like this, I don't think I would have failed that class as badly. I think being here will be fun while it lasts!

Sam and Tucker are gonna be so jealous!

[imwall-e]

Until we meet again : Chapter 1

Pairing : TB!Arthur Morgan x Reader

Warning : MAJOR SPOILERS IF YOU HAVEN'T PLAY THE GAME, major character dea•th, tuberculosis, angst, (tell me if I forgot some), reader but external POV

A/N : I wrote this a few months ago and finally decided to post it. I'm really proud of this chapter, my best work so far (imo). I first wrote it in French and mostly used Deepl to translate the text, and even if I re-read it, they may be some mistake so don't hesitate to tell me! This is not beta read. This is my first work for the Red Dead fandom and I hope it's good. Consider liking, rebloging or commenting if you like my work (and feel comfortable with that of course).

The atmosphere of Beaver Hollow was already being felt long before we arrived at the new camp. The area was dark, damp, stinking. It was as if it were haunted. Cursed. As for the cave, it was a concentration of all that, only worse. Once home to a local gang nicknamed The Rejects of Murfree, it bore indelible traces of the horrors it had harbored. The smell outside was unbearable, but inside was a vision of dread. Blood was visible from floor to ceiling, pieces of decomposing corpses smeared all the way down to its entrails. Impossible to settle inside.

Where just a few weeks earlier the gang had been celebrating their exit from the snowy mountains, and everyone was ready to give their all to make a new place a comfortable place to live, now there was no laughter to be heard. Not a smile was to be seen on any of the faces. Only whispers, distrust, fear and death reigned.

And Arthur… his coughing fits were becoming more violent, and more frequent. His skin was pale, contrasting with the blue of his eyes, which betrayed his illness and fatigue.

Outlawed, hunted by the Pinkertons or opposing gangs like the O'Driscolls, he'd been shot at many times. And yet, he was dying of tuberculosis. A fucking disease. After all, he'd probably earned it with the life he was leading… had led. His punishment for beating up Mr Downes. A good man, always ready to help others even though he didn't have much.

Arthur, who'd never done anything right. Or so he thought, but she was always there to remind him otherwise. After Mary, after Eliza, he never thought he'd fall in love again. Then she'd come along, and offered him more than he thought he deserved.

Arthur had met her while hunting. She was wearing a long white dress. At first, he thought he saw an angel. Then their eyes met. He saw the fear in her eyes and decided to put down his bow. He introduced himself and she gradually seemed to calm down. After a few minutes' silence, she finally told him her name. Her voice trembled, but she'd asked for his help: she was supposed to be getting married that very day to a man she'd never met. But what she was looking for was freedom.

She wanted to travel. To discover. To live. And Arthur had offered her all that. For five years, they'd been happy together. Arthur had even proposed to her while they were still in Blackwater. But they'd kept it a secret until things got better.

Unfortunately, the moment never arrived.

Micah was a traitor. And Dutch had blindly followed him, going so far as to question the words of John and Arthur. He'd rather believe a dangerous madman than those he considered his own sons.

Arthur should have left after the Blackwater massacre. Hosea had tried to warn him when they'd all fled to Colter. Or he should have let Micah hang at Strawberry. If only he'd been willing to open his eyes to what Dutch had become. To his true nature. If only.

But it was too late now, and there was no point in dwelling on the past. Now he had t o protect those who remained. Tilly had already taken Jack to safety. Abigail was safe thanks to him and Sadie, and the two women had left to join Tilly. Mary-Beth and Karen had probably escaped too. She was the only one left. And he knew exactly where she'd be safe.

He helped his young fianc��e onto her mare, then settled down behind her. He wanted to smell her hair while he still could. He wanted to hold her close. However, time was running out and lingering was a luxury they couldn't afford. The person he was looking for was passing through the Annesburg area, but they'd better get moving fast. He nudged the horse's flank to move it forward, and whistled for the stallion carrying the young woman's belongings to follow.

The journey wasn't long, but it went by faster than he would have liked. A dilapidated house appeared in the distance. Arthur had exchanged a few letters with the man who had taken an interest in his bleak landscape, a man he had helped not long ago. He was standing outside, setting up his camera. His gaze wandered to them, and he soon recognized Arthur.

"Mr. Morgan! I'm so happy to see you again! As you may have noticed, I've given up taking pictures of wildlife. I'm now content with the magnificent landscapes" exclaimed Albert, warmly greeting the man who had helped and saved him on numerous occasions. But his familiar enthusiasm soon disappeared when he saw the young woman's tears and Arthur's sickly pallor. "What's the matter?" he asked worriedly, abandoning his camera.

"Mr. Mason, I need you to…" but Arthur was interrupted by a coughing fit causing him to cough up blood as he stepped to the ground. "I'm dying and I'd like you to take care of my fiancée."

The young woman tried to smile at Albert, but knowing that the man she loved would soon be leaving her was too much to bear. It dashed all memories, all hopes of a better life with her cowboy.

"I'm sorry I haven't written to inform you, but recent events haven't given me the opportunity," Arthur resumed after helping his beloved off his horse.

The tears continued to roll silently down the cheeks of the woman who was to become Mrs Morgan. She was silent now, staring into space.

"Mr Morgan…", Albert didn't know what to say. This kind man, who had come to his aid so many times, was going to die. He could see the sadness in the lovers' eyes. And Albert saw only one way he could do something for them: "Don't worry, I'll take care of mademoiselle."

Arthur was relieved: she would be safe. She would live. He turned to her: she seemed no more than a ghost. But she had to fight. For him. For her. For them.

"I love you, Princess," he began, taking her in his arms. "More than you can imagine. I wish I'd said it more often. I regret so many things. But I promise we'll meet again. Not in this life, unfortunately, but in another. I'll find you again."

"We… we… we didn't even have time to get married," she managed to articulate between sobs, the crying resuming in earnest following Arthur's words.

"It wasn't our time. Now you must stay with Albert. Live, princess. Do it for me. I'll always watch over you, but promise me you won't let yourself die."

"I… I promise, Arthur."

That was all he needed to hear. He had to go now. He had unfinished business with Micah, but also with Dutch.

The sun was setting as he rested his forehead against hers. His way of kissing her for the last time, wanting to avoid her contracting tuberculosis too. He squeezed her hands and heard her whisper "I love you, Arthur".

He gently let go of her hands and she kept her eyes closed, not wishing to watch him go. To tell the truth, she was so focused on remembering his scent, his laugh, his voice, that she didn't even hear him mount his mare and gallop away.

When she opened her eyes again, the sky had darkened. A storm was approaching. Arthur was gone. Only Albert remained, looking after the stallion carrying the young woman's belongings. He knew she wouldn't move immediately, but it was time to go. He'd better get back to the cabin he'd rented before nightfall.

"Mademoiselle, I'm sorry but we must leave now. Tomorrow we'll go to Rhodes, my house is close to the city."

"Of course," was all she could reply, her gaze fixed on the mountains.

The journey to the cabin Albert had reserved was silent. The storm was roaring in the distance. She held back from joining Arthur. But she had to keep her promise.

Without Arthur, life would be difficult. Her heart would be broken forever, but she had to try. And one day, they would be reunited. She had to believe that.

The rain finally came, falling on her cheeks and mingling with her tears. She couldn't stop thinking about all those mornings she'd wake up alone. She couldn't accept that he wasn't coming back. Ever.

"Mademoiselle?" Albert's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. "We've arrived. You should try to eat something and get some sleep." He didn't know what to do or say.

She followed him silently. Inside, she sat by the window, where she could see the mountains near Beaver Hollow. Soon, she closed her eyes, tears still flowing.

Her mind took her to a river in the middle of the woods. The light wind gently moved the leaves on the trees. She was wearing a long white dress. A branch cracked, startling her. But it was only Arthur, wearing the hat he always wore and the blue shirt she loved so much.

"You're beautiful," he said, and she threw her arms around his neck. "Dance with me?" Was there an answer other than "yes"?

And, each immersed in the other's gaze, they danced. Without stopping, they talked about their future: having a ranch, raising horses, starting a family. A quiet life away from traitors and the Pinkertons. Just them.

"I love you, Arthur."

"I love you too, princesses," he replied, kissing her tenderly. A deer passed by them. Then nothing.

When she opened her eyes again, she knew Arthur was gone.

It was nearly nine o'clock when Albert and the young woman began their journey to Rhodes.

"I think you'll like Rhodes very much, mademoiselle. It's much quieter and warmer since the Gray and Braithwaite families, two rival families, entered… well, since they left."

The young woman smiled at the mention. It brought back memories that were certainly recent, but seemed so long ago. But her smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared as she recalled Sean's death.

Then came Kieran's turn. Hosea. Lenny. Eagle Flies. John. And Arthur.

Sensing that she wouldn't talk any more than she had the day before, Albert decided to talk to her about anything and everything, in the hope of distracting her from the sadness that overwhelmed her, even if only for a few minutes.

"The landscape is also much brighter. Annesburg offers beautiful scenery, but it's a very dark, eerie area. Rhodes is nicer, warmer."

Albert was right: the further they got from Annesburg, the fresher the air seemed, the more colorful and welcoming the surroundings.

She glanced back one last time, to where Arthur had remained. Her heart sank. She felt she was abandoning him. But she had to stay strong.

Finally, Rhodes appeared before them as the sun tinted the sky orange, ready to give way to the moon.

"Miss, look!"

A majestic deer had stopped in the middle of the road, staring at them with its big dark eyes.

"It's the first time I've seen one approach like that. They're usually very frightened," Albert continued.

The deer approached the young woman and rested its muzzle against her leg. She gently touched its large antlers, then the animal moved away, disappearing among the trees.

"Goodbye, Arthur."

I hope you liked this first chapter!

[beefrobeefcal]

https://64.media.tumblr.com/f80dfd4d4022311baf5ba6098b37fe83/181245afbf287710-c0/s1280x1920/76405f99a7880202727dd0a350a203f25c747899.jpg

xoxo

To Nonnie, Love Beefro

Nonnie, thank you. I needed this today.

Imma take a moment and be real with you all right now. Your beef is in a funk, and not the shake your groove thing kind.

tw: mental health talk

If this isn’t your bag and you’re just here for chaos beef fat peepaw meltdowns, mad respect, baby, and I’ll see you in the next post or two! 💜🥩💜

Smuttiest regards,

Beefro 👌🥩💜

First and foremost, I am not looking for sympathy, I’m just keeping y’all in the loop. This is something I have lived with for years and it’s only in my late 30’s that I have been able to put words to it (now NO ONE CAN STOP ME!), and you also might be thinking but beef, didn’t you just go thru this?

Like a beaver on a unicycle, these are the days of our lives and yeah - this cycle of good and bad, shit and great, highs and lows? happy and sad is my life. 🎢🥩🤯

There are factors in my non-internet life that I don’t have control over right now and they’re causing pretty severe anxiety, and it’s gotten so outside the I-can-handle-this realm that the terrible, ominous, dread-inducing brain goblin - depression - has made a cantankerous nest in my noggin. I call him Norbert.

I’m okay. I’m safe. I’m warm. I’m comforted. But I’m sad. Norbert has me seeing slights and purposeful ignorance in harmless and pleasant interactions. Norbert also tells me there’s slightly veiled hatred in a completely-obvious-it’s-not-about-me statement.

Depression is such a selfish brain bastard. It tells you every bad thing is and must be about you, and it tells you these lies over and over until you break down and believe them. I hate depression. But I don’t hate me. I love me enough to know I need kindness - not just from my inner circle and irl besties - but also from myself. I deserve to be treated gently, especially when I’m feeling fragile and breakable and fractured.

This isn’t me saying I’m taking a break - far from it! But I may not be as quick to respond or posting as frequently. I say that, and who knows… peepaw could show up to a movie festival in an outfit that gives home economics project inspired by chicken wire and I could be brought back to life and feel better. That’s the joy of harboring a Norbert - I could be fine one minute and debilitated the next.

Nonnie, I’m sorry to usurp your THOT with sad beef rambles, but i had to convey that I really did need this. I needed a small, wordless reminder that someone remembers me (again, depression lies!). Not only did you remember me, you thought of me when you saw Tim looking like he had one too many nights of take out and took the time to send this so me. 💜🥩💜 thank you.

Despite what Norbert tells me, I matter.

[tempestaslokni]

If invited to a TED Talk, what topic would they present on? What would the title of their presentation be?

He's not big on presentations, easily his most dreaded assignments that had to do in school back in the day. Nevertheless, he'd probably title it: Why We Need Wolves. It would be a presentation on the necessity of wolves and the key role that they play in the ecosystem. One of his key examples would draw from how when Yellowstone didn't have wolves for seventy years, prey animals like elk and coyotes became vastly overpopulated, beavers left, and songbirds nested elsewhere. Balance is necessary for an ecosystem to thrive. Lokni deeply believes that every creature, predator or prey, has an important role in the wild. Except mosquitoes. They can go fuck themselves.

[djsherriff-responses]

idk if this was talked about already here buuutttt i wonder if frogs/toads/amphibians(?) are rare hybrids??

when we first got introduced to bullfrog, cody rhodes immediately pointed out that he's a frog, and while re-watching it, i never saw other frogs either (unless i missed some)

(speaking of rare hybrids, i wonder if endangered animals are still y'know, endangered hybrids in-universe.)

We know that the original concept of hybrids come from beyond good and evil, and in that series they’re basically genetically engineered slaves (whose very genomes are trademarked, yikes) so we can make a guess that hybrids are/were created to fill specific roles in society

Other than “we drew a bunch of tiger body guards to save time and resources” as an answer, I imagine most amphibious hybrids just aren’t as effective in the city environments the show explored (besides the sewers). I don’t think they’re rare, their “roles” are just more suited for different situations that the characters were put in

Come to think of it, we don’t see any cold blooded hybrids besides snakes (cobra juice) , Bullfrog and the Gator, the rest of the hybrids we’ve seen have been mammals , we don’t even see any birds 🤔 . The Rayman Kids segment on hybrids confirmed Beavers exists, and since their role is being builders, I doubt they’re a rare breed here despite not actually showing up

It makes me curious how meat and regular non hybrid animals work in this universe, and I dread what that answer is

Bullfrog on his own is such a mystery of a character and any attempt to answer his existence is just met with more questions and until season two comes along (or maybe some side stories?) , we’re just going to be left in the dark on the little frog assassin’s past

I’m still convinced he has some kind of connection to Polokus. There’s just no way a bubble blowing frog co exists along side Rayman and the resemblances to Polokus is a coincidence, the crew had to be aware of those implications when making Bullfrog.

But his full name is “bullfrog korvin jr”? Which implies he had parents and that hybrids reproduce, but he’s also an assassin, which according to the original game lore is basically a bloodline thing, so his family tree has to be way older than the technology that would’ve created hybrids (are hybrids literally hybrids of humans and animals?) or he was adopted by an assassin (crow or human?) but that still raises questions on where he came from and how hybrids work in this universe

Bullfrog is meant to be the representative of the assassins creed franchise, not Rayman, so what the heck is going on with this frog dude?

[baelpenrose]

Project Praetorian 42: Adaptation

Jared learns about his new surroundings, Mia reads up on her situation. Beta read by @canyouhearthelight

Jared

As he was racking the rifle in the armory, Jared quietly reflected on what he’d seen during training. Tomorrow was supposed to be the much-dreaded “testing” - and he wasn’t excited, but was still interested to see how bad it was, see if all the hype was just some kind of hazing these pussies were talking up.

He had to quietly admit to himself, though, that the Jew who ran the show among the conscripts seemed to know what he was doing. He must have had advance training to take command, whatever everyone else said. He didn’t doubt Mark had been freely picked by the others, not anymore. It didn’t track with how controlled opposition worked, anyway. No. It made more sense that Mark had gotten some advance training as a tactician and a leader before ever arriving, been told to keep it secret, then his confidence and skill had won him the trust of the others.

He’d attempted to voice this to Jonathan and Vergil, who had both looked at him like he was insane. Vergil because Vergil was apparently a system brat who trusted everyone on this base who’d been here longer than him, and Jonathan because the giant had no concept of loyalty to anything higher than the people he was with. 

Even as he began taking off the body armor, starting to change into the day wear clothing underneath, he noticed the muscles on almost everyone else - he wasn’t embarrassed of his own strength, he’d had to be constantly working out with his cousins and his uncles, staying in shape. He’d been able to keep up with these guys, which had been something to be proud of. These guys had gotten military training and Jared had kept up with most of them.  Mark had a set of scars along his chest that had indicated some truly fucked up burns, and he’d seen the scars that the others had before.

He knew the stuff about superpowers wasn’t a joke when he saw the freak make the cripple start walking around, but…damn.

As they started walking out of the locker rooms, he waved at Casey and jogged closer to her, even as he saw Mark tense.

“Hey. What’s for dinner?”

“Don’t know, haven’t checked the mess board yet. Why?”

“I thought you cooked?” 

“On special occasions, yes. I don’t have time to do it every day, and especially not on double-duty days when we train and then have school. Especially when we have testing the next day.” 

Jared took that in, mildly disappointed. “Gotcha. I just figured with the look and all…”

Casey snorted. “Not really the Leave it to Beaver deal you were hoping for?” 

“I gave up on that when I saw you with the shotgun. You’re still one of the few girls here who has any kind of traditional femininity and I know you’re the one who cooked last night, so I thought that’s what we did here.” 

“We, already?” Casey raised an eyebrow. “You seem quick to jump on the bandwagon of this team. Done bitching about the entire leadership structure?”

Jared bit his tongue. Not even close, but fighting her wasn’t going to get anywhere. He’d wait til he could expose the sham to the rest of the team and then help them break out of this shitshow. Hell, even Xavier didn’t even seem half bad, and Jared figured the blacks of the world could definitely do worse for a leader if Xavier wanted the job of leading them all back to Africa instead of this diversity bullshit of keeping them all in the same country with him.

“Sure. But I’m also just kinda…resigned to it? Not much point fighting it, not yet.” He threw a look over his shoulder, at Mark. “Hey, any interest in a date, sometime?”

Casey doubled over laughing. “No, not a chance. I’m with Mark, actually. Even if I wasn’t, I’d still say no. I’m really…not into the white nationalist thing. Don’t want to be a tradwife, in love with a Jew, bestie is a black girl, math adding up?” 

He felt a flash of anger. “Why’d you lead me on then? With the giggling, the flirting and the…” He took a step back as a point in the grass in front of him caught fire and for just a moment a static burst crackled through his belt and set his teeth on edge. 

Casey snarled. “I didn’t! That wasn’t flirting! I was asking a question! I thought it was weird how quickly you’d come around, and honestly I was hopeful that you’d gotten your shit together. I don’t think you realize how bad your situation is. I’m gonna tell you this now. We had to work really, really hard to get the housing we have now. To get any of the things we have now instead of being in the horrible situation we were in when we first came here. A part of it is that we have to be believed as a team that works together, cohesively. If you start contradicting Mark or Xavier or Echo in front of the adults on base, if you start showing friction, you are putting all of us in danger.” Her voice was quiet, desperate. He thought, for a moment, she was being vulnerable, then she added. “We’ll kill you. I don’t know you, and I don’t like you. But I’m not wild about seeing someone my age die - even less if I have to do it.” 

Jared grunted, thinking. That was actually good information - not worth using, though. At least, not yet. He figured he’d get through the testing and make his own judgments before he decided if he’d make agreements with the staff here over Mark. He didn’t have enough information to figure out, yet, if Mark was in with the staff or was some kind of defector from the globalist government or if something else was going on. If nothing else, Jared figured he should know what was going on before he made a play. 

Still, on the subject of dating, since Casey was taken and he’d only get hurt pushing it. “Any chance with the tall redhead with the rosary?” 

Casey glared at him and he felt the temperature around him elevate. 

“She’s thirteen. On the topic of things that will make me kill you.”

“Oh, fuck.” He back-pedaled rapidly. He hadn’t known that - he’d thought she was older, she looked older, she was almost as tall as he was. “Okay, okay. Never mind. Way too young for me. I can wait. FOR ANOTHER CONSERVATIVE WHITE GIRL TO BE CONSCRIPTED HERE, NOT FOR HER TO GET OLDER!” He rapidly added, hands raised. “Jesus, I’m not that bad. Swear, I thought she was older, and in my defense, she is tall and at that age where people do just kinda look anywhere from ten to our age depending on when the growth spurt comes in.”

Casey almost. Almost smiled at that. “I can believe that even you draw the line at that, sure. Side note, you find it pathetic that you’re hoping someone else winds up here?”

“Not really ‘hoping’ as much as ‘I know it’s gonna happen.’ And it’s the only way any of our dating pools expand, apparently.” Come on, no one could blame him for just rolling with THAT inevitability and being prepared to cope with the fact that no one outside the team would be close enough to their lives to date, right?  

Echo started approaching Casey, and Jared turned away from the conversation as the two hugged and started glaring at him. 

Mark looked at him, coldly, imperiously, as he rejoined the boys. “So, here’s the thing. Don’t like you. Really, don’t like you. Vergil was impressive - he eavesdropped that whole conversation and repeated it to me as it happened. Offhand - Casey wasn’t kidding. Our situation is delicate. I can’t have you causing problems, not now, not ever. You’ve been here a day and a half, and already, you’ve called Shiloh something you only survived because Jonathan didn’t hear it and you didn’t sign it.”

It had been during training, and only one person had heard what he’d said about the magic retard - Vergil, specifically, who must have relayed it to Mark. For that matter, what kind of a cuck was this guy that he wasn’t pissed Jared had made moves on his girl? Wait, no…that shock. Mark simply didn’t need to press the point when he had already demonstrated that he could do that without speaking.

Jared kept the irritation off his face at being alpha’d successfully. “Alright, long as I’m stuck here, can I have permission to be honest, oh Lieutenant?” The acid in his voice was obvious and Mark’s posture went stiff.

“Go for it.” 

“I know we’re up against aliens. I know this shit’s real. But come on. I got grabbed up by the deep state, who are running a super soldier program that makes use of child conscripts, and put at the command of a Jewish CO who just HAPPENS to have been selected by his peers for command AND who is collaborating with our captors, even if he swears its not by choice, AND that deep state organization has ties to the UN and may or may not be puppeteering things in the US and other governments. All things that people in my circles have been screaming about for years, and now I’m supposed to believe the rest of it is all bullshit?”

Mark blinked. Opened his mouth, then closed it. “You know. I’ll admit. From your perspective. This does look. Remarkably. Like a confirmation of what you believe, or would if Franklin, Stricken, Gideon, and all of the staff were not, to the best of my knowledge, goyim. I have no idea why you’re acting like this shit was my idea.” Mark sighed. 

Then Mark snapped up his gaze and glared at Jared. “Okay, since Imperator has decided to piss me off by making your arguments almost valid regarding every non-demographic element of your beliefs, tell you what. You watch me go into the tube tomorrow, then go in yourself. If you still believe I’m in on it after Koleth’s Wacky Sci-Fi Torture Special, or indeed that ANYONE would sign up for this, you and I can honor duel, no powers.” 

Jared blinked. The sheer confidence of that statement chilled him, just a little. As did the cavalier disdain behind the admission, the implication that Mark knew he had nothing to worry about. “What do they do?”

“I’ll leave that as a surprise. Hey, isn’t Leon supposed to be talking to the newbies after training?”

“No, after class.” 

“Fuck…”

****

Mia

She’d finally sat down and stopped crying in frustration when she’d managed to communicate to Echo that she needed some sort of explanation of everything that the team knew, in Spanish. Instead of speaking to her, Echo had plopped her down in front of a computer, opened a document that was titled something in English, and then pulled up a translation matrix - way better than Google Translate, like for government work - and ran it for Spanish.

The title read, “Fast Track Introduction for Newbie Praetorians. (We are adding as we go)”

Mia almost giggled as she saw it. Then she started reading. Experiments - mutations. She’d grabbed her rosary at that part. The organization that had done this was called Imperator, and was a Special Task Force for the UN Security Council, formed in reaction to a threat from some kind of alien empire. They’d recently learned more about the alien empire - it was called the Ascendency. She only had to read about it for a little while, the caste system, the brutality - to recognize aspects of history from her own country when the Spanish had arrived. 

The document took time to explain who everyone was: Dr. Leon, Sgt. Curtis, the deceased Volkov, every other Praetorian, Director Franklin, Financial Officer Stricken, Operations Officer Gideon, all of them. And then, at the bottom, a note. “Mia, and any other English-second-language Praetorian who reads this. English is harder to learn as a second language than ASL, and all of us ‘speak’ ASL - so learn ASL first if you’re going to learn one. You’ll pick it up much faster, and that way we can all communicate. Conveniently, none of the on-base opposition speak it. There’s a link here to a training video we found, one that Imperator doesn’t fuck with, to start teaching basics.” 

She clicked the link, set the subtitles to Spanish, and started thinking. Okay, okay. This was a lot less annoying to figure out than she remembered English being, back when she was in school. She couldn’t help but wonder, though, if this document was out there, was ASL really a secure way of talking? At least some of their opposition would probably have bothered picking it up.

Okay, working with these people wasn’t going to be terrible. The physical training hadn’t been bad, even if she’d mostly stuck to talking to Echo, she had a feeling most of these people would be pretty easy to talk to once she could actually fucking talk to them. If nothing else, the general tone of the document indicated they weren’t any happier with being here than she was, and their description of an escape indicated that they’d already fought and tried it only to be forced to come back. 

All of which endeared them more to her than she’d expected, even being stuck on that plane with the mostly-nice-but-incomprehensible Kimmy and Micah. 

Still. There were words in the document that didn’t have Spanish equivalents, and it noted that a lot of what Echo had learned hacking the Ascendency computer was probably incomplete because, as best anyone could tell, there were only very rough equivalents in any human language for the concepts involved.

Would she still speak anything that would be recognizable to anyone outside this little group by the time the war ended? If she even saw it end? 

[cheapsweetsrocks]

Best of 2023 - Genre I've finally gotten into

This year, it's Crust Punk!

If I was feeling flippant, I'd say it was best described as punk, only political... There's a rawness, and an earnestness to it, as well as strong DIY inclinations in the culture that is really appealing. Bands like Amebix, Dystopia or Doom, really stood out to me; there's a lot of anger in the music, sure, but there's also a real sense of community and care that I want to see in more genres and fandoms!

I think one of the things I found most interesting delving into these bands was how close some of my musical taste already was; bands like Napalm Death, Extreme Noise Terror and Bolt Thrower (best band ever...🤘) are all very much crust-adjacent if not originating in that scene themselves (Napalm Death have always preferred describing themselves as a punk band rather than death metal or grindcore), and there was that one summer years ago when I listened to nothing but Gallhammer and completely screwed my muscal recommendations for years...

Many thanks to @spechblend for giving me some pointers about where to start, and also for finally convinving me to sit down and listen to Fugazi! (they're great, go listen!)

In 2024, I'm considering trying and get a better understanding of idol bands (specifically, from Korea and Japan). From an outsider's perspective, they seem...odd...

I've listened to a couple of bands in passing (specifically, TWICE and BLACKPINK, that I recall), and of course I'm familiar with Western manufactured boy- and girl-bands, but on the one hand, I feel like there's something fundamentally I don't get, and that annoys me, but on the other hand, there are some interesting bands that fall within the genre, like KBG84, Necromonidol, BiS (the Japanese band, not the Scottish one, who are definitely great), or Kasotsuka Shojo (which is a... cryptocurrency themed idol band...?! That sounds absolutely dreadful on so many levels, so I need to have a listen for myself...) that I want to check out.

I'm a big fan of a lot of Japanese metal and punk (Shonen Knife, Otoboke Beaver, Melt Banana) so it would be interesting to be able to put their music into some of the cultural context.

Will I get around to a deep dive into idol culture? Or will I just end up listening to more relaxing sludge/doom/death metal instead? Only time will tell... 🤔

[bonefall]

you were talking about rippletail and you mentioned that a lot of the cats felt random and the clans were supposed to be sending their best- i think it was mentioned several times that leopardstar purposefully didn't send her strongest warriors, because she was growing kind of paranoid in her last months, and she kept her strongest warriors around to protect the clan.

that being said, some of the cats from the other clans did feel a bit random, but i personally like when background characters are thrown into the main plot. it's a nice change of pace from the focus on the bloodlines of firestar and tigerstar.

It's not that I have a problem with the inclusion of background characters, it's that these writers don't seem to understand setup and payoff

New arc opening up, we've got a new generation of characters, we need to know more about the characters Dovewing will interact with. An opening expedition is a great idea!! Let's chuck our main cast on a problem solving mission and see how they handle it.

Except they don't. The majority of the characters shown on this mission are never relevant again. We get nothing established about their strengths or weaknesses, or even much of their personalities.

And in an arc about Dark Forest trainees being hidden in plain sight, and there being a huge plot point about the majority of them being misguided, I think that's just unacceptable.

Remove Petaldust and replace her with Beetlewhisker or Icewing. Take out Sedgewhisker and Whitetail and swap them with Harespring or Whiskernose. Or hell, take the cats that WERE there and establish things about them-- have Petaldust be in the DF instead of Beetlewhisker

I see a lot of readers who go into ASC dreading the Nightheart Journey Sequence, and then come out pleasantly surprised they didn't feel bored by it. I firmly believe that's because that journey has narrative consequences. Something that is lacking from the other ones.

We know Sunbeam and Nightheart like each other. We get more insight to how Sunbeam feels about Lightleap. We get to poke into Rootspring and see where he's at mentally.

In a previous Bad Travelling Book, that scene where Sunbeam is trapped under the fence would have been a quicktime event. Mash A to escape fence, never talk about it again. Instead, Nightheart displays he can be a manipulative little guy, AND we see how Sunbeam's spite can morivate her.

But... anyway yeah lmao it's not the way the Beaver Patrol cats are background characters, it's the way they renain forever irrelevant after.

[tyrantisterror]

Addams family creepypasta where the narrator clearly accidentally watched an episode of Leave It to Beaver and reacts to it with the same dread and horror the Addamses feel when they see something cloyingly sweet.

[thewarmestplacetohide]

Dread by the Decade: The Face at the Window

👻 You can support me on Ko-Fi! ❤️

★½

Plot: A young bank clerk is wrongfully accused of murder as a serial killer preys upon Paris.

Review: This is a largely a monotonous thriller of little note beyond its abrupt, nonsensical "twist" ending.

Source Material: The Face at the Window by F. Brooke Warren Year: 1939 Genre: Psychological Horror Country: United Kingdom Language: English Runtime: 1 hour 2 minutes

Director: George King Writers: A. R. Rawlinson, Randall Faye Cinematographer: Hone Glendinning Editor: Jack Harris Composer: Jack Beaver Cast: Tod Slaughter, Marjorie Taylor, John Warwick

-----

Story: 1.5/5 - What begins as a very slow, generic thriller veers sharply into a level of stupidity I can't even put into words in its last five minutes or so.

Performances: 2/5 - No one stands out. Slaughter is sometimes imposing and sometimes distractingly mustache-twirling.

Cinematography: 3/5 - Competent if largely unmemorable.

Editing: 3/5

Music: 2/5 - Like much of the film, it feels fairly derivative.

Sets: 3/5 - Decently realistic.

Costumes, Hair, & Make-Up: 2.5/5 - Solid enough until the final reveal at the end, which looks really unimaginative.

Trigger Warnings:

Very mild violence

Ableist caricature (brief)

Unwanted sexual advances (brief)

Mild sexism (uncritical)

[handoverthekawaii]

We Go Together | Homelander x You | Chapter 21

Taglist: @hom3landr @theaudacitytowrite @lover1307

Note: This chapter contains brief mention of Biblical themes.

You and John part ways with Queen Maeve and Black Noir somewhere in rural Pennsylvania. Once it becomes clear that your group isn’t being followed, the captain of The Seven touches down in a strip mall parking lot and lowers his teammates to the ground.

While Maeve texts A-Train to come and pick them up, Black Noir wordlessly pulls a silver key out of his suit pocket and passes it to John. Then you and John bid the two Supes farewell, you embracing one after the other in teary hugs and thanking them again for helping to rescue you.

“Hey, no need to thank us,” Maeve says modestly. “We’re superheroes — this is what we do!” Turning to John, she adds,

“And whatever Vought was up to at that facility… is NOT what we do.” Maeve promises that she and Noir will grill Madelyn Stillwell upon their return, and they won’t stop digging until they figure out what else the company might be hiding.

“Keep me posted,” John requests, clapping both his teammates on the shoulder gratefully before lifting you back up into his arms.

As he takes flight, you catch a last glimpse of Maeve and Noir in the parking lot below. Noir is power walking across the parking lot toward a Buster Beaver’s Pizza Restaurant, and Maeve is following behind with a pretend-exasperated shake of her head. You have no idea what is going on, but you can’t help but smile at Noir’s singleminded focus. You’ll have to ask John about it later —

But not right now, because John is shooting up into the sky like a bullet fired from a gun. His arms wrapped around you tightly, his jaw set with determination as he rockets into the atmosphere. It would be impossible to speak over the howling wind, so you tuck your head beneath John’s chin and try to calm your nerves. I’m okay, you tell yourself. I’m safe.

We’re going to be alright.

John’s destination is the same place where Black Noir’s key unlocks the front door — a remote hideaway, high in New York State’s Catskill Mountains, where the Supe spends a couple weeks every summer. Noir has hosted private dinners for The Seven at this residence now and again, but at this time of year there’ll be no one around for miles.

It’s the perfect location to take refuge when you’re on the run from the most profitable corporation in America and need time to figure out your next move.

Your adrenaline levels had finally started to come down during the flight, but it is only when your feet hit the cedar front deck that you realize how utterly drained you now feel. When John turns away from you to open the door, you grab onto the porch rail tightly with both hands to steady yourself. You force yourself to take deep breaths, in then out, but the trauma and stress and existential dread of the day is catching up with you, and you are feeling a little worse for wear.

When John pivots away from the door to lead you inside, a bolt of terror courses through him at the sight of your drawn face and haggard, disheveled appearance. He has no idea whether you looked this unwell all day and he only just now noticed, or whether something more serious is wrong — could Vought have given you drugs that are just now fucking you up?!

John responds the only way he knows how, by leaning into his Homelander public persona and taking complete control of the situation. You hardly react as he swoops you into his arms, dashes into the kitchen, and sets you down on the marble countertop while he begins rifling through the cabinets.

A moment later, he deposits a paper plate of peanut butter crackers into your limp hands and tells you, “Eat a few of these for me.” [continued on AO3]

[losech]

Ember's hunt produced five squirrels. One fox, two grey, and two reds. She had a couple trees on nests and we explored a section of some woods I didn't think was accessible. Found a beaver lodge and some potentially good mushroom spots for later in the year.

On the way home the car two ahead of me hit a deer. They kept going, didn't even stop to check their vehicle, and left the deer flailing in the middle of the road. I pulled over and put on my flashers, the car behind me did too. I waited until it was clear and quickly dragged him out of the road. The other car left when they saw I had things under control. Unfortunately the deer had two shattered legs and massive internal bleeding so he did not survive. I loaded him up and took him home.

I was just thinking about how I've been dreading needing to buy meat (I don't always want to eat squirrel), my bear is almost gone and there's not much else in the freezer. Michigan has a free salvage permit for roadkill so this was an awesome alternative to today's meat prices.

[robtopus]

Get ready for a story.

A piece of Weird Fiction from my collection Purveyor of the Weird.

TW animal death (mention)

Robert R Sidian: That New Car Smell.

There didn't seem to be anything wrong with the car. The engine purred. The brakes were a bit worn, but still had a ways to go. The wheels were only two years old. Even the color was fine-i-guess; some people apparently like pastel tones. And still, looking at it, something seemed to be off. At first, it was easy to just put that on the hideous color (because Kay really didn't like pastel colors. At all). But there was something else, something behind the odd choice in paint job. Some underlying sense of dread. It didn't make any sense, and so he decided that the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach was just some bad sushi he had recently partaken in. It was just a car. Nothing more than an amalgamation of metal and chrome, designed to ferry him from one place to another. It didn't have a soul. It didn't have a sinister purpose. It was just a car, and one that he had been given as a gift, no less, after his old car had been put out of commission for the foreseeable future.

"So, what do you think? I know the color isn't quite your style, but I hoped you'd be a bit more thrilled" said Bertram, and Kay realized with a start that his friend had asked him for the second or even third time, judging by the annoyance in his tone.

"No, no, it's fine" Kay murmured, or something to that effect, still lost in his contemplation of that eerie feeling he got from looking at the thing. It seemed to smell faintly of… death.

"Has someone died in this car?" Kay wondered, and only realized he'd spoken aloud when Bertram shot him a glance. "No, no person has ever died in this car, don't worry about that at all, it's totally safe to drive!" he added, speaking quickly. Had Kay not been knocked so off-kilter by the inexplicable feeling, he may have noticed the thin sheen of sweat that appeared on Betram's forehead now. Almost as if he was afraid Kay might not take the car, the keys of which now appeared in Bertram's hands. He tossed them underhandedly at Kay, who caught them more by reflex than anything else. Bertram seemed to visibly relax, noticeable to the casual observer, but not to Kay, who seemed still unable to tear his gaze away from the car. Which now, it seemed, belonged to him. Holding the keys had somehow transformed ownership. Bertram left, and he walked with a new spring in his step. It would take him over an hour to get back home on foot, but he would gladly have walked twice this distance, if it meant being rid of the car. There may have been a pang of guilt at hoisting the blasted thing off at his friend like that, but then again, he also had been afforded no mercy when the car had been all but dumped onto him by a former friend. He was just continuing the tradition, really. And with that, he disappeared down the street and out of this story, leaving Kay and his new car in the garage.

About seventeen hours after getting the keys from Bertram, Kay again stood in his garage, in front of the hideous pastel-colored car and tried to understand what the absolute hell he'd gotten himself into. There also was an undercurrent of impotent rage; he badly wanted to rearrange the geometry of Bertram's face using a 2x4, but there was no way he'd walk over an hour to do so. Especially since Bertram had probably moved away. Driving would have been faster, but Kay would not enter the car. The hideous pastel-colored car, which sat in his garage, feigning innocence. As if it had not been filled with dead platypuses only an hour ago. As if Kay had not woken up from disturbing dreams he only half-remembered and stumbled to the garage as if drawn by an invisible string, following a stench he could almost but not quite place. It had turned out to be the stench of death - of a surprisingly large number of dead platypuses, a pile of duck bills and beaver tails and otter feet, squashed together in his new car without rhyme or reason. In this deconstructed state, the animals had looked even more like a bizarre fever dream than they did in nature documentaries or in their native wilds. Kay had, in fact, decided to go back to bed and just discount the thing as a hallucination, some semi-lucid dream brought on by stress or the cauliflower he had had for dinner. And now he was back in the garage and the car was empty, bereft of animal carcasses. It would have been so easy to just write the whole thing off, had it not been for two key facts: One, the garage still positively reeked of egg-laying mammals in an advanced state of decomposition which wafted out of all four of the car's windows. That was the second thing: All four windows had been unbroken yesterday, yet now were shattered. From the inside, as if something (such as a mass of slowly-rotting, uniquely Australian flora) had exerted massive pressure on the glass. But apart from the glass shards on the concrete floor and the smell, there was no sign of the dead platypuses. No bills or tails, no front paws or hind legs, no eggs or milk. Just an ordinary car of an absolutely hideous pastel color.

Kay couldn't help but feel as if the vehicle was mocking him, sneering at him. So he decided to not give it the satisfaction of crawling on his hands and knees to look for more evidence under the car. Most frustrating was the way he still felt that dread in the pit of his stomach. Heavy and cloying, like the stench of blood. There were no blood stains on the seats, which was no surprise. The platypuses clearly had not been killed inside the car, but somewhere else and then transported here. But how? And by whom? Kay would have loved to just regard the whole thing as a bizarre prank, but he honestly didn't know anyone who had access to this amount of deceased monotremes. He was still standing in the garage, transfixed by the car which just sat there, with its broken windows but otherwise absolutely unremarkable. "It's just a car" he told himself, and "This shouldn't be this disturbing". Confusing, yes. Needless? Absolutely. But scary or disturbing? No. Unsettling, maybe, but that's the most of it. But he didn't feel merely unsettled; not even just disturbed. He was genuinely scared, almost to the point of being terrified of this car, and not just because of the hideous pastel.

He had some business to conduct and decided that he'd rather take his chance with public transport than drive this weird car. Even if all of this was just some particularly vivid hallucination brought on by a looming burnout or the broccoli he had had for lunch, he didn't want to risk it. He decided that he'd just shower and head out, putting the car out of his mind. He had a full day ahead of him, and when he returned in the evening, he'd call Bertram and ask what the deal was with the car. As he left his garage to take a shower, he briefly thought that he heard something laugh. Whatever it was, it was not human. The shiver that ran down his spine did not come from the crisp fall air outside, and Kay hurried back inside his house.

Before leaving for the day, Kay took another look in the garage. There was no reason to do so, other than to sate his morbid curiosity. Even approaching the garage, he could feel the dread building up, sweat breaking out on his back and under his arms. But he pushed on; after all, satisfaction was known to bring back cats.

As he was standing under the shower, the doubts had begun to creep back in. Surely, he could not have seen the dead platypuses. Surely, he had only imagined it all. But there had been glass shards on the floor, and the stench of death. Or had that been part of the dream too?

So now, he involuntarily held his breath as he looked into the garage, rendering him unable to tell if the smell was still lingering; but when he looked at the car, shining in its hideous color in the twilit darkness, he inhaled sharply. Something was wrong. The car looked differently than it had earlier. For a few moments, he was unable to place the change, but then it hit him. A cold, cold fear gripped his heart. He flicked on the light, banning the darkness and bringing the car into sharp focus. The car, which was pristine. Nothing wrong with it, except the color. And all four windows were absolutely unbroken. The garage smelled of nothing, except the usual lingering smells of gasoline and rubber. So now, all the evidence was gone. The cat had been well and truly killed. And apparently, he was losing his mind.

Kay turned off the light and closed the garage again. He realized that his heart was pounding in his chest; he could feel it all the way up to his temples. He leaned against the concrete of the garage. It was hot, for no good reason at all; but Kay barely felt the heat, only felt the security that only an unmoving piece of masonry can provide.

Kay took stock of his options: He still had no desire to drive the car. But he also did not feel like going out. Something was very wrong today, and it was not just the fact that his new car had a hideous pastel color.

Suddenly: "Augh, what the fuck!" He recoiled from the wall, almost hearing his flesh sizzle. His garage was inexplicably heating up. He watched in mounting terror as the concrete wall began to melt before his eyes, losing its form, the sense (the illusion?) of safety it provided. But it did not fall down, did not collapse. Then, suddenly, there was a deafening crash from inside the garage, a shockwave of sound that dropped Kay to the floor. He fell and hit his tailbone on the driveway. The pain was immediate and excruciating, yet at the same time sharp enough to cut through the panic that had begun to cloud his mind. He got back up and threw open the garage door. What he saw did not surprise him; he had, it seemed, become numb with terror.

The dead platypuses had blown the roof off the car. Kay slammed the door closed and walked back to the house, slowly and deliberately. He knew that, should he start to run, he would be unable to stop.

He needed to make a call.

"The number you have tried to call does not exist" the computerized voice intoned, and Kay couldn't help but feel like there was a certain smugness behind it. Of course the number had been disconnected. Of course his supposed close friend Bertram had gotten a new phone as soon as the keys had been in Kay's hand. After all, Bertram probably didn't want to be reached by Kay anymore. Kay, rather than a friend, had been a dupe for Bertram, who had used Kay to get rid of a problem, namely the hideous car.

He looked at the phone in his hand. There really was only one solution. He dialed a number.

"Hey, Jenny! It's me, Kay! Say, don't you need a new car?"

© Robert R Sidian 2024. Do not distribute.

[mlobsters]

supernatural s14e2 gods and monsters (w. brad buckner, eugenie ross-leming)

updated my post on 14x01 with my kind of derpy revelation:

!! omg lol i just reread my 13x23 with my whole “can’t kill michael now that he’s wearing dean” is that the whole reason we get pellegrino back as nick, so we can find out that archangel blades don’t kill the vessel?? 😂

the very fancy apron and a knife that reminded me of the linoleum knife in hannibal mizumono for a hot second 🥴 (his is a karambit, i think) he looks good, again. and without the flat cap he doesn't look so much like he's cosplaying the 20s.

CAS And, you need me to stay here and babysit Nick and Jack. SAM It’s not babysitting, Cas. CAS Only in the sense that they’re not infants, but they both have to be supervised. Jack is lost without his grace, Nick is…he’s just a mess. SAM Well, it-it’s not his fault. Cas, Nick was housing, you know. He-he deserves a shot at rebuilding his life. CAS And yet every time I look at him, all I can see is the supreme agent of evil.

sam thinkin (what with the presumed cage torture while wearing that face) if i can do it, you can give it the old college try too

NICK I just don’t know what kind of pain would make me allow Lucifer to possess me.

it's like therapy for cas too. but this is the part where you tell him how luci exploited your desire to fix the problem of amara (??) at any risk or whatever and let him possess you too

BOBBY I’ve been fighting a friggin’ apocalypse for 15 years, my, FBI might be a little rusty.

cute. i never quite connected with bobby but it is kind of nice to have jim beaver around (even if i think the whole reunion tour of the past couple seasons is kind of ridiculous). and appreciate the confirmation of the timeline, 15 years is a lot but also not a lot. did mary get the ice caps are melting speech too because she probably needed it more than those guys -_-

can i also take a moment to say how the longer it goes on, the more goofy castiel wearing an outdoor coat indoors at all times is to me? lol. and i've heard actors talk about how it can be tiring to always be in the same costume. years and years of a trench coat...

CAS Yes, I do - a little. At the time of the Great Fall, when angels were banished from heaven, I lost what I thought was everything. I had no grace, I had no wings. I felt hopeless and useless. JACK What did you have left? CAS Well, uh..well, I had Sam and Dean. But I had something else that was extremely helpful. I had myself. Just the basic me, as, uh…as Dean would say, without all the bells and whistles. You know, Sam and Dean, they weren’t born with their expertise. They’ve been at it since they were children. Failing, winning, developing over the years. Patience, persistence - those are skills too. The past, where you come from, that’s important, but it is not as important as the future and where you’re going.

cas is on a roll. therapize it up, my guy! and i kind of like this pointing out how sam and dean got to where they are

oh so now dean gets to have a moment in the mirror with michael like sam did with lucifer in 5x22 (glad it didn't last long)

DEAN (in mirror) GET…OUT. MICHAEL I don’t think so. DEAN You can’t. MICHAEL Oh, but I can. Because, see… I own you. So hang on, and enjoy the ride.

i guess archangels don't have to follow the rules of possession. i'm not sure it's even a rule? who knows. but i know at least specifically with gadreel there was the whole, if sam knows about him, he can eject him. oh right, no one could dump lucifer either, duh. lol

well that was genuinely startling and creepy, nick trying to snap castiel out of existence

those are some truly unfortunate monster teeth

NICK Castiel, you’re just a stone cold body snatcher. You’re no different than Lucifer.

again singing the praises of mark pellegrino, he totally sells this. bringing some of the creeping dread of lucifer into this character too

CAS You know, in all my thousands of years, what happened to Jimmy Novak and his family are my greatest regret.

i recall when they finally decided to have some moral quandary over the jimmy novak situation, it felt too little too late to me. and for a second i was like right, jimmy dead. jimmy's wife dead. what about claire... oh right! we know what claire (and her glorious hair) are up to, and not dead

MICHAEL I admire you. Eating on the run, surviving, despite being stalked by those venal humans, who think of you as nothing but vermin.

this is the most ridiculous explanation. just say you hate humans, lucifer 2.0

similar to how they finally addressed the trauma of cas taking jimmy away from his family in whatever, s10, jack visiting kelly's parents and addressing how she just disappeared and they don't even know she's dead (which is just heartbreaking as a parent, to consider.) the show, past the first couple seasons, rarely takes the time to follow that thread through. this was well done but it's hard for me not to see it as a play for emotion and give jack something human connection-y to do

two things. 1) there's a little hint of the like. cliche film noir jazzy saxophone or whatever in the score when michael is standing up saying the "why do you think i let you escape" line and i find it just. well. it's something. what era are we going for here exactly. i mean, matches her apartment vibe too but not with michael in his 20s-ish getup :p b) i'm glad jackles is laying off the funky speech cadence he had for michael in 14x01, it's a little different in spots but not So Much

(this is a christopher lennertz and philip white for music episode)

laughing at this framing. let us gaze upon the defunct telescope while they sit on the edges of the weird step things

JACK Cas, Michael has to be stopped. CAS I know, and he will be - after Dean is- JACK No, Dean doesn’t matter. You’re all so focused on trying to save Dean and I get it, I understand, but - if he can’t be saved, if it comes down to him or Michael - Michael has to be stopped. Caged, or killed- CAS And if that means that Dean dies too? JACK Then Dean dies. I know this Michael. I’ve seen what he’s done to an entire world, and so have you. If stopping that from happening here means that Dean has to die, then …. Do you think he’d want it any other way?

LOL what! wow. jack doesn't subscribe to the winchester let the world burn if it means i get to save my brother worldview. which, very reasonable. but i'm not sure why jack of all people is bringing this up to cas right now. sounds more like... something bobby should be saying? not like jack knows them all that much better than au bobby does

even if i think this nick plotline is unnecessary and silly, pellegrino is killin it. he's so good at being creepy!

objectively very pretty shot but i still laughed

do they have any sort of angel detection system? dial a friend (angel) to take a look at him?

nick going full darkside and bashing the neighbor's skull in was a choice.

trying to sum up my viewing experience of the later seasons, i'm gonna borrow from our friend will graham: "You delight. I tolerate." i'm trying not to be an asshole and complain all the time, i want to enjoy it when i can. but i find it pretty challenging.

[vhstve591]

The Knack - Get the Knack (Capitol, 1979) - Photograph by Randee St. Nicholas

The "My Sharona" album. Enough said.

'70s fashion is something my 27-year-old uncultured mind will never fully understand.

Kurt Cobain considered this album one of his favorites, which I found amusing. Nirvana and The Knack aren't the kind of bands you'd expect to mesh well at all. Really shows he wasn't the kind of dread-ridden cynic people made him out to be.

Interesting fact: "My Sharona" was the song that helped launch "Weird Al" Yankovic's career....in a way. Back when he was just a radio DJ for Dr. Demento, Yankovic recorded a parody of the song called "My Bologna" that Knack frontman Doug Fieger liked so much that he suggested Capitol put it out as a single. While it didn't perform quite well enough for Capitol to give him a long-term contract, Yankovic got so much attention from it (with the help of a few other songs he put out as singles) that Scotti Brothers (who had Leif Garrett, Survivor and John Cafferty & The Beaver Brown Band under their belt) offered him a contract of their own. The rest is awesome history.

Image courtesy of Discogs.

[rockymthorrorshow]

you know, i've been thinking abt creative and artistic pursuits and like. Jobs and shit recently. (working a dead-end customer service job will do that do a gal.) and at the risk of doing my favorite thing, which is belaboring a metaphor, i've also been thinking abt reintroduction of wolves.

see, when they reintroduced wolves to yellowstone national park, it changed the course of the yellowstone river. that's the short version, anyway - the reality is a much longer process of ecological restoration that, for the most part, to my understanding, happened largely on its own. wolves reintroduced = better regulated deer and elk populations through natural predation = increased growth of wetland plants that high desert ungulates like to snack upon = better habitat for beavers and such/more robust plants to hold dirt in place in the face of water in transit = changed course of river. as someone who knows Fuck All about ecology or wildlife biology, i'm probably getting a bunch of that wrong, but it's fun to think abt. wolves changing the course of a river.

(stay with me here, this is the metaphor part.)

i don't think any human being on earth would ascribe such habitat changing effects to one single wolf. that would be silly! it was many wolves, over the course of a number of seasons, in conjunction with many other factors. it's not like the wolves set out to change the course of the river, or regulate the riparian habitat of yellowstone, or even manage the local elk population back to healthy levels. wolves were just Doing What They Do! goin about their days! and it terraformed a whole habitat!

i've wanted to write books since i was little. i'm also not very good at writing! i can string sentences together, i can even manage a pleasing turn of phrase or two, but when it comes to the structural elements that make a book enjoyable to read? pacing, plot structure, character motivation? to say nothing of themes? themes? fuck me, i'm terrible at it! but as i've explored a dozen different career options (archaeologist, paralegal, museum historian, etc.) it's the only thing i can see myself doing as a career in the long term. which, when you know you're not good at something, is a discouraging predicament to be in, let me tell you.

and when you tell people that you want to write books, they always jump to the new york times. "got a bestseller in the works, do you?" they ask, with a wide range of tones between earnest-if-blind-approval and asking-your-five-year-old-niece-if-she's-going-to-the-olympics. and like. not everyone can be a bestseller. for starters, there's a whole discussion about marketing and advance capital and the buy-in of the publishing industrial complex and corporate bookstores because let's face it, if you don't have amazon or b&n or both in your corner from the start it's an uphill slog, but there's also just. the reality of large numbers. only a few are going to hit that list. and that's okay.

as a public historian, you learn to think about the physical reality of archives. certain things get saved. others do not. whether that's because of conscious choices or limited space or the inherent frailty of material objects in the face of time (and don't think digital archives are immune from this, either), archives are more likely than not incomplete. this is especially true of historical publishing, particularly for genre fiction or niche audiences. old comic books get so expensive because they were, in some measure, disposable. same thing with pulp fiction and dime novels and penny dreadfuls and whatever the tiktoks of their day were called for the past three hundred years. even the Highest of Literature of a given era can vanish from view for a myriad of reasons. but behind each and every work that survived, and every work that didn't, there was a person who made that. multiple people, even - someone wrote the script and someone drew and inked the panels and someone colored the panels and a whole host of people brought that 10 cent comic book to a newsstand near your great-uncle Mike's childhood home. someone wrote the novel and someone set the type and someone bound the book that you found in one of those gloriously junky antique shops, tucked between a Better Homes and Gardens cookbook and the fifteenth Nancy Drew #14 that you've seen that day.

there's an inherent drive under capitalism that a company has to beat out the competition at whatever it does, to get in front of the consumer more than anyone else to the point where you have to buy whatever they're selling. and i'm not saying that as creators, marketing is bad. if you don't tell anyone about your stuff, they're never going to read it, and we do, ultimately, create art for the consumption of others just as much as for ourselves. we want people to comment on our fanfics, to keysmash in the tags of the art we post, to compliment the sweater we spent months knitting. we want someone to put our art on the fridge and say it's pretty. that's one of those silly things that makes us human.

but for me? i've found some comfort in the idea that wolves don't have a bestseller list. (see, there's the metaphor.) wolves don't have academy awards for the best elk takedown. they just do what they do, because it's a biological imperative. you don't have to write The Best Sci-Fi Novel Ever. you don't have to painstakingly hand-animate The Best Short Film Every Produced. the things you make can just be things. do your best, sure, but out of respect for yourself and your art form, not out of fear or envy of someone else's work.

i grew up with a saying in fan spaces that boiled down to "two cakes," referencing a cartoon where someone brought a cake to a buffet and found that someone had already brought a more elaborately decorated cake. the second panel is of a different person, looking with delight at the buffet, exclaiming, "holy shit! two cakes!" your work of art doesn't need to be so breathtakingly original and different and exquisitely crafted that it's impossible to create. (caveat: obviously, don't plagiarize someone else's work. it's rude, and you're cheating yourself out of the opportunity to make your own art.) but it's okay to just contribute to the ecosystem. not everything has to be the next Pride and Prejudice, or the next Legend of Zelda. make something that you enjoy, that speaks to the person you are now, in this moment, and share that with people.

your ecosystem will be better for you being there.