#fox browne creative

[thecupidwitch]

Elements And Their Correspondences

Earth

Direction: North

Time: Midnight

Season: Winter

Color: Green, brown

Zodiac: Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn

Ruling planets: Venus and Saturn

Tarot Cards: Pentacles, Coins

Tools: Pentacle, salt, stones, dirt, crystals, wood, flowers

Cystals: Emerald, Jet, tourmaline, quartz, onyx, azurite, amethyst, jasper, peridot, granite.

Animals: gopher, bear, wolf, ant, horse, stag, deer, dog, cow, bull, bison, snake, worms, moles, voles, grubs

Herbs: Oak, cedar, cypress, honeysuckle, ivy, primrose, sage, grains, patchouli, nuts, magnolia, comfrey, vetivert, moss, lilac, lichen, roots, barley, alfalfa, corn, rice.

Rules: Grounding, strength, healing, success, stability, sturdiness, steadfastness, foundations, empathy, fertility, death, rebirth, wisdom, nature, animals, plants, money, prosperity.

Water

Direction: West

Time: Dusk

Season: Fall

Color: Blue, Indigo, Sliver

Zodiac: Cancer, Scorpio, Pisces

Ruling planets: Moon, Neptune, Pluto

Tarot Cards: Cups

Tools: Ocean, sea glass, cup, bowl, seaweed, hag stones, cauldron

Cystals: Moonstone, pearl, silver, aquamarine, amethyst, blue tourmaline, lapis lazuli, fluorite, coral, blue topaz, beryl, opal, coral

Animals: fish, snake, frog, crab, lobster, eel, shark, dragonfly, seahorse, dolphin, sea otter, seal, whale, alligator, crocodile, beaver, octopus, penguin, salamander, turtle, starfish, koi, coral, barnacle, manta ray, manatee, jellyfish, nautilus, heron, duck, geese, crane, swan, water birds, ammonite, dragons, serpents

Herbs: seaweed, aloe, fern, water lily, lotus, moss, willow, gardenia, apple, catnip, chamomile, cattail, lettuce, kelp, birch, cabbage, coconut, cucumber, comfrey, eucalyptus, gourd, geranium, grape, licorice, lilac, pear, strawberry, tomato

Rules: emotion, intuition, psychic abilities, love, unconscious mind, fertility, self-healing, reflection, lunar energy, deep feelings, curses, death

Fire

Direction: South

Time: Noon

Season: Summer

Color: Red, Orange

Zodiac: Aries, Leo, Sagittarius

Ruling planets: Sun, Mars

Tarot Cards: Wands or Swords (depends on belief system)

Tools: Athame, candles, swords, wands, dagger, lamp, flame

Cystals: Carnelian, red jasper, bloodstone, garnet, ruby, agate, rhodochrosite, gold, pyrite, brass, fire opal, lavastone, tiger's eye

Animals: Lion, snake, coyote, fox, ladybug, bee, shark, scorpion, horse, mantis, tiger

Herbs: Cinnamon, cloves, ginger, allspice, basil, cacti, marigold, chilis, garlic, mustard, nettle, onion, heliotrope, hibiscus, juniper, lime, orange, red pepper, poppies, thistle, coffee, jalapenos, lemon, cumin, saffron, coriander

Rules: Energy, will, destruction, strength, courage, power, passion, lust, sexuality, anger, war, new beginnings, protection, loyalty, transformation, action, movement, achievement, creativity, desire, willpower

Air

Direction: East

Time: Down

Season: Spring

Color: Yellow, gold, white, light blue, pastels

Zodiac: Gemini, Libra, Aquarius

Ruling planets: Mercury, Jupiter, Uranus

Tarot Cards: Wands

Tools: Feather, wand, staff, incense, broom, bell, sword, pen

Cystals: Amber, topaz, citrine, jasper, agate, pumice, alexandrite, amethyst, fluorite, mica, clear quartz

Animals: Birds, flying insects, spiders, bats

Herbs: Bergamot, lavender, marjoram, peppermint, sage, dandelion, bluebell, clover, frankincense, primrose, lemongrass, pine, aspen, yarrow, violets, vervain, myrrh, dill, anise, aspen

Rules: Intelligence, wisdom, knowledge, logic, thought, communication, truth, inspiration, intuition, memory, creativity

Tip jar

[asqadia-banthen]

Introduction!! :3

We are a small willogenic/endogenic system of about 8 (intros linked on names)

Neb/Buddy: host, semi-frontstuck

Maxwell/Max: regulates emotions

Ash/Ashen: rarely fronts, helps with creative work

Jordan: will not post here, has own sideblog ( @jordan-in-paradise )

[REDACTED]: helps with derealization, nonverbal

Fern: likes trees, co-host, fronts a lot, has own sideblog but will still post here ( @smash-or-pass-trees )

Lonely Wizard: S T I M U L A T I O N ! ! ! ( @lonely-wizard-irl )

Koda: wont post here

)

genders + sexualities + pronouns

Neb: 🤟🏼, panagender, cassgender, demiromantic, uranic, diamoric, objectum, it/it’s, any neopronouns, any xenopronouns

Max: Max💢, transmasc, boyflux, aroace, no pronouns

Ash: 🌨️🐺, genderfluid, lesbian, trixic, she/her, they/them, it/that, pup/pupself

Jordan: ur fav bitch 😘, intersex, nonbinary, abrosexual, conceptum, shi/hir

[REDACTED]: 👁️, gendervoid, aroace she/it

Fern: 🌳Fern🌿, botani, conceptum, pansexual, they/them

Lonely Wizard: the wiz <|:3, unknown, he/they

Koda: not known yet

)

we are a furry, therian, otherkin, and fictionkin 🐾

)

Neb is objectum, conceptum, and mangerum, and is attracted to water trick snakes, DS, highlighters, semi trucks, traffic cones, traffic lights, and fries

)

I’m also mangerum

)

we are autistic, have selective mutism, and have many sensory issues ♾️

)

my special interest is dragons :3 🐉 (ask me about them!)

)

we like to draw

)

I love collecting things, such as bones, feathers, rocks, 4+ leaf clovers (most leaves on one was 7) 🍀

)

I follow back!!

)

we are interested in dragons, animals, mashed potatoes, analog horror, music, and art

)

Kintypes

awakened since 2020-?

Therian:

sloth bear

honey badger

gray fox

standard poodle (red)

dingo

black cat

jaguar (pseudomelanistic)

golden tabby / strawberry tiger

harbor/common seal

gelada baboon

cottontail rabbit (clado)

norway lemming

syrian hamster

sperm whale

wild boar

hippo

suri alpaca (fawn)

spectral bat

hyacinth macaw

bluejay

bald eagle

song sparrow

wild turkey

emerald tree boa

ankylosaurus

dragonfly (clado)

common acorn barnacle

eastern tiger swallowtail butterfly

Otherkin:

sphinx

oasis dragon

fuji dragon

kelpie

leviathan

brown werewolf

wingkin (barn owl)

harpy wingkin (white dove)

ghostkin

skeletonkin

merfolkkin

robotkin

Fictionkin:

P03 (Inscryption)

sand wraith (HTTYD) (rusty colored)

bearowl (The Croods)

Copinglink:

eastern white pine

plastic spinning top

Otherhearted:

golden retriever

raven

Questioning:

reptilian

chupacabra

wolpertinger or jackalope

we will edit these as we confirm/uncomfirm :3

warnings for userboxes

“This user practices filbism /srs” is in reference to an analog horror called “Doctor Nowhere”, if you are sensitive to distorted faces then dont research

“this user loves Jack Stauber” Jack Stauber is a musuc artist and animator many of his songs can trigger derealization, talk about su1c1d3, and have semi-distorted claymation people, if you are sensitive to any of this then do not research

“this user loves vulture culture!” vulture culture includes dead animals and bones, if you are sensitive to anything like that, dont research

NO DNI

Just don’t be an asshole ❤️

[the-mortuary-witch]

MABON

DATE: September 20th-23rd

ZODIAC: Libra and Scorpio 

SYMBOLS: cornucopia, equilateral cross, autumn foliage, pine cones, acorns, vineyards, gourds, and pumpkins.

INCENSE AND OILS: frankincense, myrrh, cinnamon, patchouli, sandalwood, nutmeg, clove, orange, pine, ginger, juniper, and benzoin.

SPELLWORK: gratitude, cleansing, letting go, protection, wisdom, prosperity, self confidence, balance, and creativity.

ANIMALS: owls, wolves, squirrels, deer, crows, ravens, foxes, bats, hawks, black birds, and eagles.

COLOURS: orange, purple, yellow, red, brown, gold, and maroon.

FOOD: apples, grapes, pumpkins, squash, corn, grains, nuts, potatoes, cranberries, pears, beets, wine, and cider.

DEITIES: Demeter, Persephone, Ceres, Freyja, Pomona, Green Man, Loki, Modron, Freyr, Osiris, The Morrigan, and Dionysus.

HERBS AND FLOWERS: marigolds, sunflowers, rosemary, sage, thyme, chrysanthemum, goldenrod, mugwort, aster, hops, and ivy.

CRYSTALS AND STONES: citrine, amber, labradorite, smoky quartz, peridot, carnelian, garnet, sodalite, and moonstone.

[rookthebird]

hidden talents i think the warriors have:

cochise: can roller skate so well that andrew lloyd webber once saw her in prospect park and tried to cast her in starlight express (she said no because that set was a death trap) knows how to ice skate. knows how to, more importantly, stop on ice skates.

cowgirl: super flexible! can do a split & put her legs behind her ears. will show it off at parties after like one drink.

fox: knows how every arcade game in coney island is rigged. will watch someone fail at a claw machine for 0.5 seconds, then walk up and win the biggest teddy bear without even trying. local girl has one weird trick! carnival proprietors hate her!

cleon: incredibly creative (just like her actress, who does improv and freestyle rap!) you can ask her to rap about literally anything and she never misses a beat. has a shoebox filled with notebooks filled with gorgeous, heart-wrenching poems.

ajax: beachcombing. she'll stroll along the coney island beach for five minutes and come back with a silver dollar, a handful of sea glass, and someone's lost wedding ring. the same reflexes that make her good in a fight mean she can snatch up shiny things before the tide does.

rembrandt: terrifyingly good at chess. five minutes of staring at her opponent with big guileless brown eyes and luring them into small talk and then, boom, checkmate. the old men who always play chess in the park laugh when they see her coming because they know some tourist is about to get wrecked.

swan: super organized. can always find her favorite dress when she's going clubbing because it's always on the correct hanger. has never had to pay fines for a late library book in her life.

[fantastic-nonsense]

I have a fun [citation needed] hypothetical for you. Say you have been granted the authority to make FIVE editorial directives for DC comics that will be followed for at least the next five years. What are you demanding?

No company events.

No major events with ten thousand tie-in comics.

No big crossover events.

No big gimmick events.

No event comics.

Okay, I kid, but only slightly. I'm actually going cheat slightly and give you five plus an extra one that needs a bit more explanation:

No company-wide crossover events or gimmick events that derail major ongoing stories in individual books shall be made. If an event comic is published, any tie-ins will be published separately from the character's ongoing/mini (for reference: like the Blackest Night tie-in specials).

Institute a lore consistency team within the Archives department. Mandate that every single creative team MUST read and utilize a character/story bible before writing any scripts. The scripts will be looked over by a member of the lore team as well as the book editor before being approved for publication.

The Young Justice generation is finally allowed to grow up and, where necessary, get new hero names. In particular, Tim Drake finally gets to age and stop being Robin. He picks 'Blackbird' as his new name, gets a cool new red-and-black costume, and stars in a rebooted Young Justice book alongside his friends.

Barbara Gordon has to formally retire from the Batgirl role and become Oracle full time again. This is handled in a way that is respectful of her character and her disability. Cassandra Cain will be Batgirl full-time again while Stephanie Brown goes back to Spoiler; Cass gets a Batgirl solo ongoing while Steph would join a rebooted Gotham Knights team book that includes her, Kate, Helena, Luke Fox, and Jean-Paul Valley.

Wonder Woman's established lore is acknowledged, respected, and re-emphasized. Diana is a clay baby again, Cassie is Zeus's daughter again, The Return of Donna Troy is acknowledged as the definitive explanation of Donna's multiple-choice backstory (while the fire origin stays the definitive origin), Artemis gets her original origin back, etc. Full acceptance of the Rucka Rebirth retcon to reset Diana's origins and childhood back to the post-Crisis status quo. No references to the Zeus origin or the New 52 Amazons are allowed to be made except in context of Rucka's "it was a lie" explanation.

In priority order, those editorial mandates probably fall out to be something like 2>1>5>3 and 4 in a tie; 3 and 4 are kinda interchangable since they collectively would fix a wide swath of what's wrong with the Bat books right now.

My "extra" mandate would be that writers must utilize existing characters where possible for their stories. No new "major" heroes are to be introduced unless a writer can prove that a book needs a new character to fill an identified gap. Prioritization should go to a) characters who used to be used on a regular basis in a given book but have not been seen in 10+ years and b) characters introduced within the past 5-7 years.

I'd want this one for two reasons: one, there's a ton of pre-existing characters who used to be staple or regularly recurring characters who have failed to get regular appearances since 2011, for a variety of reasons. Forcing writers to use them instead of creating new characters would allow DC to rebuild some continuity, bring back old favorites, and provide closure to lingering storylines that were cut short or never followed up on. Two, there's a hell of a lot of new characters have been introduced and discarded without actually building them out properly the last few years. I would honestly only put this one in place for around 3 years...long enough to force DC to actually flesh out the underutilized newbies and provide some closure and new beginnings for some old favorites.

[maskedbutsilly]

I have an entire multiverse hell hound bs au going on and in one of the current timelines it’s with slime as president after murdering quackity blah blah blah BUT slime kied Wilbur aswell and one of my favorite parts ABOUTZ THE AU ITSELF ( even though nobody asked or more or less prolly wants to read or hear ) is that ghost(bur) and alexia ( <- ghost Quackity but nonbinary femme basically to set the difference between his alive self and dead self ) leave little bouquets of what their main biomes they reside of have for eachother. so for example because ghost can’t stay in the tundra for long and that’s what alexia is banished to they’ll leave coded bouquets, a bundle of lilac, lavender, periwinkle, daisy, and some allium wrapped in brown paper and tied with a white satin ribbon stained with blue dye ( as is the paper but in hand prints ) and place it right where his flower field biome meets the tundra, always attaching messy little " enjoy these my sweet blackberry!! remember to dress warm!! " type messages, only for alexia to leave small bouquets filled with winter berry branches, winter blueberry branches, pine branches and cool spruce sticks they found wrapped in a cleaned and dried arctic fox Hyde, tied with a burlap ribbon they cut into shape herself and sending a " I love the flowers, blueberry, please enjoy the berries I found!! tell the animals there hello for me!! " against that same tree. they having nothing but a platonic relationship but more close friendship since alexia lost most of her memory from the relation to her death, whereas that remembers everything. and ghost not having the heart to tell alexia that he remembers meanwhile alexia can’t bring herself to tell him she remembers less than she lets on, the few times they’ve met alexia melts in any warm temperatures, meanwhile ghost freezes after only a short time in the tundra. her ‘ living ‘ through some of the worst blizzards known to man meanwhile ghost deals with the burning of constant summer thunderstorms, always so close yet so far away. alexias icy hands melting against ghost and burning them, meanwhile ghosts warmth caused her to melt, essentially a candle and a flame in opposite temperatures. sighing. the blogs based off of them don’t do them justice… also im so sorry for writing so much…

this went from so cute to tragic at the end…. i love when people make universes so diverged from the canon itself, i love seeing it and i wish i was that creative ;—; anyway ghost and alexia trading bouquets is so damn adorable i had to draw them <3

ALSO ALSO i LOVE WHEN PPL SEND ME LITERAL PARAGRAPHS IN MY INBOX,,,,FLOOD IT I MEAN JT I WILL READ THEM ALLKKKLLL

THANK U FOR SHARING UR LOVELY AU !!!!!!

[casual-tarot]

Pick a Pile: What your friends love about you

Pile 1

You're an optimist! You see the good in just about every situation and you see the endless possibilities ahead of you. You're not one to back down just because the going gets tough. If you get beat down by life, you always bounce back up. Your friends admire this about you, they wish they could have your optimism, could see the world from your eyes. You're also an incredibly and creative person. You're dream job may include being a creative in some way; music, art, photography, writing, etc. Your friends love your creations and are inspired by them. You are a very generous person as well, if someone needs your help, you won't hesitate to do what you can. You Love helping people if you're able to. And that's the thing, you know when to pull back and away from things. If you need time to think or to heal, you pull back and spend time alone to rejuvenate. You won't overextend yourself and that makes people admire you. You might also be a healer, a good one at that. You help lift people up without straining yourself. You welcome help from others and pat them on the back for a job well done. Inspiring!

Lucky Colors and Numbers; Shades of Orange, Shades of Pink, Fuchsia, Hot pink, White, Green, Light Shades of Blue, 5, 9, 19, 22, 48, 55, 74

Signs, Symbols, and Phrases; Skunks, Spiders, Foxes, Arctic Foxes, Flowers, Pink Flowers, Snow, Webs, The Moon, New Moon, The Night Sky, Stars, The Galaxy, Uranus, Mars, Wine and Wine Glasses, Leo, Scorpio, Pisces, 2, 22, 9, 3, 33, 12, 99

Some Advice: Spend some time with friends. Hone in on your creativity, make something new. Take a break, go on vacation if you can, maybe somewhere with a beach or a lake, maybe you can even surf a little bit. Focus on some of your hobbies, enjoy yourself. Focus on self love, though I get the feeling that you're already doing that. Buy some new clothes and/or accessories. Honestly your doing pretty well for yourself and I don't feel like I need to give you much advice, it seems you k ow perfectly well how to take care of yourself. Good for you!

Pile 2

You are kind and extremely loyal. Your friends feel like they can trust you with just about everything. You always stand with them to help make the best decisions they can, and you always lift them up. You're very supportive and your friends are incredibly thankful for that. You're very intuitive and you tend to trust your gut. Your friends admire this because your gut is usually correct. You're very good at picking up on vibes and will clock a bad person as soon as you meet them. Sometimes you get overwhelmed with priorities going on in your life, but you always take a step back and let yourself breath. As soon as you realize you're stressed, you stop and think. You plan and map things out, and you make sure to add some leisure time in there as well(although I think you could stand to take a bit more time for yourself). You refuse to let things overwhelm you, too stubborn to let things really pile up. You're friends admire your drive, and wish they could hold that same ambition. You seem to be well connected to people. Maybe you know a lot of people and are good friends with most of them, or maybe you only know a handful that you have an extremely close bond with. Either way, you are well liked and people feel like they can talk to you about anything, even if you just met. You aren't very judgmental, you tend to see everyone's point of view, even if you don't agree with them. You're friends wish they had that same optimistic view in people. You don't focus on the bad things happening in life, you take it in stride with grace. You aim for success, you're ambitious but not in a way where you let it consume you. You are very healthy about taking breaks. Your friends really admire that one lol. You seem like a very compassionate person, you're friends are very thankful for that.

Lucky Colors and Numbers; Light plum, Whites, Lighter Purples, Light Browns, Beige, Caramel Browns, Coffee Stained Browns, Shades on the Spectrum of Light Orange to Hot Pink, Gray's, Light and Pastel Pinks, 10, 8, 99, 48, 22

Signs, Symbols, and Phrases; Whales, Butterflies(especially purple ones), Peacock's(especially males), Ants(especially if they're lined up), Snakes, Seals, Hawk's, Turkey Vultures, New Moon, Waxing Crescent Moon, The Moon as a Whole(Especially Crescent), Uranus, Venus, Neptune, Scorpio, Aquarius, Capricorn, Aries, Taurus, Fire and Flames, Fire signs, Plants, Sprouts, Earth signs, Farming, Wine and Wine Glasses, 10, 6, 12, 3, 9, 2, 4, 22, 33, 7, 77, 66, 1

Some Advice: You may have a hard time listening to friends. Whether that be because you're too busy or focused on your own problems or because they sometimes bring you down, it's good to take a moment to sit down and listen to them. Lend an ear. That being said, don't over extend yourself, I'm not saying to go way out of your way to comfort someone. If you don't have the time or mental strength, don't force it. But it is definitely a good reminder for you to check in on your friends and see how they're doing. I think you have a lot of good karma, and it's coming back your way. All that good you put out into the world if finally coming back to you, good things in your future! I'm getting the vibe that some of you don't think you deserve good karma or didn't do enough good deserve it, but rest assured you did do good. You deserve all the good things coming your way, even if you don't believe it. It doesn't matter if you think you deserve it or not, the universe knows and is sending back your good karma like punch to the face haha.

Pile 3

Immediately getting the vibe that you're adventurous. You like to have fun and chill out. Maybe a night owl? You love going out with friends. You may be the type to buy the next round of drinks if you're able to. Your friends just think you're an overall cool person to hang out with. Rarely do they think of going somewhere without you. You are a strong, confident person. Someone who isn't afraid to stand up for a friend or to send back an order you know is wrong. But you're also kind, in a loud energetic sort of way. If you watch anime, think of those beefy sunshine characters(like kirishima or goku) that are always smiling and yelling, thats the vibe I get from you haha. You have a critical eye, maybe a good sense of intuition, you know the perfect path to take to get what you want. This applies with people, places, and even events. Your friends trust you make the right call in a lot of things. You seem like a leader, it might never be said but you might be the one introduce your friends to new places and experiences. Your friends really look up to you. You're not one to look back at "what ifs," you make your decisions and continue forward assured, knowing you made the right choice at that moment. You know you can't change the past and continue on into the future, knowing it's your past that has made you into who you are today. When you make a decision, you go all in on it, confidently, even if it turns out to be "wrong" later on. You pride yourself in not dwelling on past mistakes. You are very assured of yourself, whether that be in personality, looks, your job, whatever. You know your worth in all aspects and don't let people talk down to you because of it. You are very confident in spending your money, when you go out especially. Like I said before, the type to buy a round for everyone or pay for dinner. Rest assured, you're friends don't love you because of this, they love you because of you. They don't care if you have the money to hang out because they just want you to be there. You're very generous with your close friends, and they love giving back when they can. I'm getting the sense that they love getting you gifts and paying for the check as a thank you. They see your overt generosity as charming, something they fondly roll their eyes at. They are thankful to have you as a friend.

(Note: I had a lot of trouble articulating myself with this one, maybe that's something you struggle with too. You might have so much to say in your brain but your mouth can't keep up haha. I'm hearing adhd for some of you.)

Lucky Colors and Numbers; All Shades of Purple, Peaches and Light Pinks, Salmons, Fuchsia, Dark Blue, Black, White, Light Browns and/or Beiges(especially for accessories), 74, 57, 85, 88, 14, 33, 56, 55, 32, 5, 87, 91, 911

Signs, Symbols, and Phrases; Hawk's, Snakes, Whales, Blue Whales, Mice, Sharks, Cougars, Ants, Coyotes, Spiders, Rabbits, Gray Rabbits, Salmons, Koi Fish, Dolphins, White flowers, the Sea, Waves, Mountains, Snow, Yellow flowers, Blues, Reds, Twilight, Evening Sky, Pink Sky, Webs, Stars, Koi Fish Art, Dark Purple, Dark Purple Sky with Stars, A Dark Purple Sea Glittering in the Light, Chiron, Pluto, The Sun, Mercury, North Node of the Moon, New Moon, Waxing Crescent Moon, Last Quarter Moon, Full Moon, Virgo, Aries, Pisces, Aquarius, Libra, Sagittarius, Windy Clouds, Fast Moving Clouds, Storm Clouds, Puffy Clouds, Fire and Flames, 5, 55, 555, 10, 4, 6, 1010, 1, 7, 44, 3, 33, 11, 77, 444, 333, 777, 7777, 22

Some Advice: I get the feeling that you love hanging out with friends, but remember to take some time for yourself too. Go out alone, just chill, or maybe even meet new people. Maybe take a vacation for yourself, or with a loved one, away from your group of friends and just with the people/person/pet closest to you lol. Balance your alone time with the time you spend with friends, even your extroverted side needs a break sometimes. Take a day off or stay home when you would normally go out. Watch TV, play some video games, or try something new altogether. Try out some new creative hobbies, or get back into old ones. I'm getting the vibe that you haven't been letting your creativity shine lately, let it out. Your work is perfectly balanced, what I mean by that is you can take a break. Everything is ok, they can handle a day or two without you there helping. So take a day off from work too, even if you don't think you need it. It can still help! Some of you definitely overwork, so you people especially should heed this advice. Take whatever resonates with you. I guess the major message here is basically this; take a break, take a vacation, and let yourself relax alone.

[asherlockstudy]

Why is purple Rhett's new favourite colour?

Wonderhole E5

To be honest I am not big on writing this post because all I want to say is "it's gay. that's the post. bye" but this would not be fair or totally accurate for this wonderful and well thought out episode.

Rhett and Link are painted red and blue and get isolated in respective tiny rooms, in some type of GMM-like experiment. They are guided through the experiment by what seems to be a sinister twist on Stevie. The point of the experiment is to check whether this colour theory of association to emotions can be proven real. There is this expectation that after a while in these colours Rhett and Link should start behaving in a certain way.

The food cube segment seems to allude to weird taste tests and competitive games in GMM. Rhett is more reactive and compentitive while Link is more stoic and relaxed, as expected. Of couse, before that we were graced with another imagery of them drinking from tubes.

!!!ALERT!!!

PUZZLE VIDEO REFERENCE!!!

We had seen another one in the Brown Diamond!!!

Rhett and Link already express that they feel irritable and antsy and lethargic and pensive repsectively. This could be commentary on their real selves, as we know that Rhett can panic and get reactive in the face of hardship while Link has said on many occasions that he likes to nap away his problems. Things got worse when they listened to comments that resemble quite a bit some of the real life negative comments they get.

Another interpretation could be that this is a message that they comply to what is expected of them.

You know, the title of the fairytale evil!Stevie is reading them, Ferdinand the Fox, is a play on the children's tale "Ferdinand the Bull" and... I have a lot of thoughts...

Ferdinand is a young calf who, unlike all other calves playing fighting and acting tough and strong, he prefers to calmly smell flowers. His mother worries because he is different than the other calves but ultimately is understanding to him. Ferdinand grows up and he becomes an unusually large bull. Yet he is not aggressive and tough at all, he still prefers to sit at peace and smell flowers. One day Spanish bull fighters come to the farms to select the next bull for the bullfights. Ferdinand knows he would never be chosen and sniffs flowers calmly, only accidentally he steps on a bee and the bee stings him. Ferdinand starts running, mooing and heaving due to the pain. Impressed, the bullfighters take him for a challenging wild bull and take him with them. In the bullfighting arena, Ferdinand is entirely distracted by flower bouquets and ladies' garments adorned with flowers and refuses to fight. The bullfighters are filled with shame at his expense and return him back to his pasture. Unbothered, Ferdinand continues his flowery life in peace.

So... that is an interesting starting story to draw from, isn't it?

However, Ferdinand the Fox is quite the different character from Ferdinand the Bull. Let's take a look to the Wonderhole fairytale because this one is very interesting as well.

We have a land of many furry animals (Mythical Beasts) whose favourite songs are Fo-Rest and Trees (Rhett and Link). They chant these songs daily (daily content) and the magic fountain fills with the purest, sweetest water (the - monetized yet authentic - creativity produced by the chemistry / collaboration / bond of Rhett and Link). A fox called Ferdinand however crafts a plumbing system that routes all the water to his own place, so he enjoys all the water while the other animals are dehydrated and sing in vain (Rhett and Link's creativity is drained and channeled to a single format / style of content, perhaps due to somebody's or some people's responsibility, to the dismay of their loyal fans). Eventually the animals stop chanting their favourite songs (Rhett and Link lose popularity / viewership), however this is not beneficial for Ferdinand either because the fountain needs sound in order to produce water (money). But he knows singing Forest and Trees is not necessary for this (Rhett and Link's authenticity and artistry are not truly necessary to make money). So he goes to the other animals and starts spreading gossip, negativity, toxicity which creates unrest amongst the animals but, if nothing else, the fountain makes water again (uninspired, basic content with toxic, negative fan community). A mole named Marvin - another occurence of a mole, most notable was the mole who was supportive of Rhett and Link's hole digging - digs deep enough that he discovers what is going on. He comes to the surface and tells the other animals the truth. However, Ferdinand manages to turn the animal community against him by questioning his claims and even blaming him for the water drainage. Ferdinand wins (as Rhett and Link's videos usually have bad endings).

Who was the recurring mole? The old fans? Someone in particular? Someone in their immediate social or workplace circle? Someone who rallies for Rhett and Link's creativity / authenticity / sincerity but their efforts are met with too many obstacles? And who is Ferdinand? Is it some certain person with power in Rhett and Link's business? Is it the toxic, conservative or overly particular part of the fandom that wants only one type of content? I cannot tell what these characters exactly stand for but I feel the story told here is pretty much along those lines.

Rhett says how "we the animals" would want a revolution (a drastic change in how Rhett and Link present themselves and express their creativity?). Link comments how he feels sorry for the dehydrated animals (long standing fans?) and just before the crescendo of this video, he reflects how the animals (fans) should have listened to the mole (truth teller?, shippers?, old fans?, real life ally?).

And then we have this scene which was kind of agonizing, especially when you think there is a symbolism in it, which it obviously has a symbolism in it:

Like a literal wake up call, we are blasted with the image of Rhett and Link cuddling in their sleep. They also make sure to show that they must have "mingled" enough during their sleep that their bedspreads are messed and each has ended up on the other's bed and they are towards the opposite direction than the one they had in the beginning. In short, they have "cuddled" long and hard.

It's not just about that though. Rhett and Link are still being watched throughout in this context and, if anything, it seems things are going according to evil!Stevie's plan or expectations for the experiment. She removed the wall between them, waiting to see whether it would led the experiment to this and it DID lead the experiment to this. So there is an element of manipulation of which Rhett and Link seem to be the victims, either because they are driven to this or because they are watched while inevitably this happens. It sort of reminds me again Rhett's passive aggresive "Perhaps you are right after all" to the shippers last year.

When they wake up, they act like they have no memory of what happened (that level of twist and turn with another person in bed requires you to be at least semi-awake) and they deny having any will in this, particularly Rhett. In fact, Rhett accuses Link of "blueing him in his sleep" (wow) and slaps him. Then we get ANOTHER Puzzle Video reference!

Which is not surprising at all... remember what Link does in the Puzzle video ;)

A lot of denial, in short. The incident has made the tensions go up high. Rhett and Link start fighting each other in an ingenious fight sequence, wonderfully shot, directed and acted. With their fight, Rhett keeps redding Link and Link keeps blueing Rhett more and more, bit by bit. Eventually they challenge each other to "surrender". This goes on for a while until Rhett promises he will surrender, only if Link does as well. Then there is another round of "surrendering first" challenge until they proclaim to surrender, only to tighten their grips on each other extremely. The tension rises uncontainably and they eventually explode, creating purple in the process. Their purpling provokes another food reward by evil!Stevie. And here is what "purpling" means in Evangelical context, as explained by @unforgivablengk .

Based on this video, the tension and subsequent explosion can mean one of these three things:

Rhett and Link try desperately to resist the inevitable, all while challenging each other to make the first move to surrender. It reminds me of the peanut butter argument in the Flight Simulation, where they fight over who will take the first scoop. This only builds up the tension and they eventually "explode".

Rhett and Link are on different pages regarding being upfront and honest with their audiences and they both stick-in-the-mud forcing each other to surrender to the other's opinion. They are so stubborn in their own opinions that they neutralise and dissolve themselves in the process.

Maybe it's only artistic / work commentary, showing how they are different personalities who have different creative visions but their tension and the rubbing off of each other creates their trademark "purple" identity. I mostly saw this being the interpretation of many others on youtube. However, it does not explain why it needed physically touching heavily in bed to convey that message and also Rhett and Link have never claimed their artistic visions are different or that their personalities are opposite when it comes to the artistic vision.

But here it's time to remind you all that Rhett has only since the previous year started expressing his love for the colour purple (there was also the Lucy Lavender chicken in the Road Crossing Chicken video) but it has not always been his favourite colour. For the longest time, Rhett was not that decided on having a favourite colour but whenever asked, he would say that his preferred colour was grey. For ages. Then for a short while he also appreciated green, after his own eyecolour (lol). But suddenly, since a year or so, he is so big on the colour purple like he was never before with any other colour. This is a slightly sudden change. I believe he has associated purple with some particular symbolism in his mind...

*The evil!Stevie is voiced by Katey Sagal, the voice of the Smart House and also the purple haired, one-eyed Turanga Leela, the Captain of the Planet Express Delivery Ship in Futurama.

One Story Rhink Masterlist here

[the-and-sign-anon]

Hollween Party Prep

Word Count: 654

A/N: The request was for a Halloween party, but this was where inspiration struck, so this is what happened

BSD Masterlist

“My love, this is ridiculous. Do we absolutely have to go?”

”Yes. Now hold still.”

You held Poe’s face firmly in one hand while the other worked at applying heavy eyeshadow around both of his eyes. His long, dark bangs had been clipped back, which allowed you a perfect view of his startling, violet eyes. Poe exclusively allowed you to pull back his hair when you were home alone together, but you’d spent hours convincing him to allow people a clear look at his face for this one single night. 

“We don’t have to stay the whole time, right?”

“No, the party usually lasts into the early morning. I’ve never lasted past eleven thirty.”

Your anitsocial partner had asked several times why you were even attending this party. It was hosted by a woman you hadn’t spent any meaningful time with in the years since you left college to join the ADA. She never showed genuine interest in your life unless something terrible was happening. You didn’t even seem to be close with anyone else who attended. 

None of that affected your decision to go. It was the only kind of party you ever got invited to that wasn’t directly related to your work with the ADA, so you took it and ran every year. This time around, with a very shy boyfriend and his raccoon he steadfastly refused to leave behind at home, you got a little creative. Not that Poe agreed.

“I look foolish. What kind of consequence would we face for showing up without all this fanfare?”

“It’s a Halloween party, Ed. If we showed up in regular clothes, we’d stick out like a sore thumb. And besides, that’s the coward’s way out.”

Poe swore that if he didn’t love you so much, you would have a much harder time talking him into things. If he loved you less, maybe he wouldn’t be sitting on the toilet seat in your shared home while Karl gave him a look he was sure was judgmental from the counter.

After finishing with the makeup, you moved onto managing his hair. Once you were satisfied with your work, you held out a hand to help Poe to his feet. He looked into the mirror and realized once and for all how desperately in love with you he was. No one else on the planet could possibly have given him raccoon eyes and styled his hair away from his face without making him hate them forever.

Against his own nature, Poe was actually sort of happy with the look. You’d brought home some more casual clothing than his usual ensemble, still matching the brown and gray look of his beloved companion. He looked like a pretty good approximation of a raccoon. 

Having always been the more lively of the two of you, you’d taken a different approach for yourself. You stood beside him in a reddish brown, loose-fitting dress that ended a few inches past your knees. You’d snagged a pair of white sneakers,  comfortable enough for you to spend the night on your feet, and paired it with a pair of short white fingerless gloves. Before doing Poe’s makeup, you’d created a few little whiskers and small noses details for yourself, topped off with a pair of fox ears on a headband.

Poe marveled at how absolutely adorable you were. 

“Alright. We should hit the road, the party started half an hour ago.”

“What?! You said her house is twenty minutes away! We should be there already!”

“We definitely shouldn’t, Kayo hates it if you show up right on time for her parties. She thinks it makes her look bad.”

Poe spared you a truly bewildered look as he helped you into your coat and followed you out the door. He’d never understand women, he accepted that fact years ago. Being halfway across the world from where he’d grown up certainly didn’t change that reality.

[justporo]

My peeps, I think it is about high time for some emancipation for my homegirl Tav here. She needs a nickname.

As I've explained before: her name is Tav, for real. I didn't know back then what would come of this game and then well, I wrote... a lot. Now I'm kinda sad because I feel like she's not as unique. And I still like her just being Tav, it has a nice ring. But it's hard to have her be a real OC when her name is... unrecognisable.

So I will keep it in her lore that her name is Tav, but I thought: what if Astarion gave her a nickname, so she can be Tav but she can also be more unique.

So

Help me pick a (nick)name for my Tav!

So here's the poll - some short explanations for the options under the cut. Also ofc I'll make the final decision but I like to hear your thoughts.

So we know Astarion wouldn't probably be super creative with nicknames (so am I - yes, this is my cover up to hide how I have no super good ideas for this?). But here are some quick thoughts behind the options this far:

Kat: Astarion calls her his little street cat. She grew up on the streets, can be a little grimy and doesn't take super good care of herself. So Cat, but Karlach would throw in to write it with a K because "just like Mama K!" Astarion rolls his eyes, Karlach laughs.

Fox: Because she has reddish brown hair (really more red tbh). And Astarion loves how vibrant her hair looks especially in the direct sun.

Silv: Her eyes are silver, but "Silver" sounds stupid, so Astarion has the very good idea to scratch off the last two letters.

Fien/Devy: both relate to the same idea that she has horns tattooed over her eyes - to look a bit more intimidating?? She did it out of an act of rebellion when she was younger, now she rolls with it. So the idea is to cutesy-fy "fiend" or "devil".

I'm happy to hear your thoughts and ideas! Help me give her a good name!

[postmodernbeliever]

lifetimes and lifetimes - fox mulder x fem!witch reader

not every witch needs spells and stones to relive the past, or predict the future. in your opinion, the craft is much simpler than that- what is meant to be yours comes to you, at the right time. and the right thing does come, in the shape of a tall, curious fbi agent. it doesn't take long to learn just who fox mulder is to you- and that it seems you two always find each other, in every lifetime.

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this one is dedicated to @spookybasementboy bc they asked for it :))  i took some creative liberty because i’m not much of a witch myself- i was inspired by the past life situation in the season 4 ep “the field where i died” but also wanted to make sure i made it mystical, so i used a sort of invocation/prayer and vision experiences. but really i wanted to have an amalgamation of a witch and a regular person, who truly is a product of “coincidences”, run into our handsome little fox. i think it came out kinda cool. unlike anything i've written. ok ill stop explaining and let you read. <3

my ao3 | word count: 5,041

content tags: wicca, not too witchy but has spiritual experiences, mentions of bodily blood/gore, past lives, flashbacks, idiots in love, stress, fear, anxiety, slow romance, you both fall hard FAST but it’s gotta be slow!!!!!!!!!!

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°

special agent fox mulder believes in everything. he doesn’t know how not to, not with everything he’s seen in his lifetime. because of this blind faith, he gets himself in constant trouble. it was the first thing you noticed about him as he handcuffed you to the chair in the police station bullpen, that he was trouble, but in a good way. in the way that without having said a word, you felt he could turn your life upside down. even in a state of shock, you could sense that.

you sat like a prisoner, eyes shut as agent mulder settled into the desk chair opposite you. behind your eyelids, you relived flashes of moments from not even an hour prior. there was blood and bullets; you tasted wood, glass, screams, more blood. you remembered the red eyes, and the way bodies flooded beneath the pews, the sound of skulls cracking against the cold tile. you remembered reciting the only prayer that you could remember, the first one you learned when you left the church at 18. you felt the wiry carpet burning your elbows as you crawled away. you heard their voices repeating, “baruch hashem, baruch hashem, baruch hashem…” you remembered being chased, and after that, nothing else. as you awaited what surely was to become your interrogation you began to pray again, because it felt like you had no other means of safety. the earth is my mother, i shall not want…

“so, you like to run, huh?” the man teased, easing into his questioning. 

agent mulder’s authority was practically dripping from him- tailored suit, slack tie, blue and white badge screaming from his pocket. the print of his gun pressed against the black holster which flashed enticingly behind his coat. you saw power in his eyes, and a boyish attitude in his smile as he awaited your response. he was an understated kind of handsome. the kind that snuck up on you.

you winced as you shifted in the chair, and the man watched you tremble, suspicious of your state. maybe it’s drugs, he thought, but he quickly rescinded that. you just didn’t seem like the type. to the naked eye, you were healthy; plump arms and legs, round cheeks, secretive eyes. you were an intriguing sight, and not just because of your clothes. chained to a chair, your curling tendrils of hair and berry lipstick looked so out of place in a dirty, bustling environment like the one in which you both sat. he saw a girl adorned in earthy colors both muted enough to communicate a soft darkness, and bright enough to draw people to it. the beat-to-shit brown boots on your sleepy feet showed how long you’ve been drifting by, living alone. silver ornamented your neck and ears and poised hands, and agent mulder liked how it contrasted the tarnished handcuffs. you were battered from the events of your evening, with deep cuts in your hands and knees, and bloody scrapes all over your body, taking turns sharing skin with the bruises. you were a dichotomous girl, giving him every reason to be curious; yet all personal inquiries aside, agent mulder had a job to do. he had caught you fleeing a crime scene, after all. 

something in his gut wanted to release you, to let you float right out the front door and back to wherever you came from; but in his chronic open-mindedness, he couldn’t be sure if you weren’t tricking him some way into feeling that. so he kept you locked tight and facing him, eagerly awaiting your statement. 

“running is for the guilty, agent mulder.”

“well, i had to chase you down, didn’t i?”

“who says you decide what i’m guilty of?”

the agent turned to the computer and opened a statement file, deciding to take yours himself. “what’s your name, miss?”

“which one? i have a few.”

“whichever one i can find in an official file somewhere in this pigsty,” he grinned. 

“well, that’s not gonna be much help,” you shot the man a wink, “they know me by a handful, too.”

“well, come up with one, then.”

you sat for a moment, already settled on the name you wanted to hear him repeat, but wanting to tease anyway. when you offered it up, the sound rang in his ears like angel’s bells. 

agent mulder simply couldn’t stifle his curiosity. as he typed your chosen name out, he asked, “what does it mean?”

“well, my last name is an old name. for us wiccan, it means old friend. and i like to think of myself that way- familiar, constant, when the world is always moving.”

“and your first?”

“my favorite shakespeare character.” you admitted. the man’s face flooded with color, and you could hear him thinking, is she fucking with me? so you tacked on, “you know, just because someone’s a witch doesn’t mean they’re an isolationist. i read.”

“i didn’t say anything!” agent mulder chuckled awkwardly. your intuition had him drawing nervous breaths. “so, you’re a witch. is that why you were at the church? did you plan to invoke, or just poke fun?”

“i’m not that kind of witch, agent mulder. not all witches are mean-spirited. i was there because i had walked past the church a few days ago, and i saw the stained glass windows from outside. they were so beautiful, i wanted to see them up close. i’m not a fan of what happens at churches, but i do love their art.”

for an accepting person, agent mulder didn’t realize how many preconceived notions he held. sat before him was a girl who pledges to be a witch, but visits catholic churches in her free time like museums. a girl who chose her name according to the day. in what little he knew, there seemed to be not one solid fact on which he could build a realistic profile. tight-lipped, the man asked for your age, place and date of birth, and address.

“i’m not sure exactly how many lives i’ve had, but in this one, i’m 29. arlington, d.c… um, october 31st, 1964… oh, and right now, i’m at 2632 hegal place, alexandria. apartment 42.” 

as you spoke, a wind blew through the station. it ruffled the papers on agent mulder’s desk, and it whistled through the links to your handcuffs. the hair stood up on your arms as the wind whispered, and you knew what he was going to say before he said it. you felt it in your gut. 

“2632?” agent mulder swallowed thickly, his curious pupils inflating almost cartoonishly. you saw his goosebumps and smiled.

as if you’d known all along, you asked, “you live in the building next door, don’t you? 2630?”

agent mulder didn’t respond, but the blood in his cheeks did for him. you shifted in your seat again, feeling a burning in your stomach. you hadn’t felt that hot intuition for a long time. there was a haunting quality to his face that was drawing you away from your defense; you couldn’t keep up the mysterious act, because something about him made it impossible to hide.

“s-so, what were you doing at the church?”

“you already asked me that, sir.”

you were surprised that even in the chaos of the police station, you weren’t alone. you felt alone. agent mulder seemed to look at you like his eyes didn’t recognize another thing, like the world was unfamiliar to him aside from your face, your eyes. and all those years of sitting in meditation, of attempting to regress, to see who you were before and who your soul was tethered to were useless. you should’ve known by now to trust in your world, in its karma. it always comes when it’s meant to. 

 “you can call me fox, if it’s easier. sir is so… formal.”

fox’s eyes sparkled. you’d seen that shimmer before, but in water, and in shifting light. you looked into him, and wiped your clammy palms against your pantyhose-clad thighs. for the first time all night, you felt your barrier coming down, the shield you raised back at the church, against the cops and the world. the fear you stifled to survive was finally flooding through your veins, and the tears in your eyes followed like dominoes. 

fox instinctively abandoned the report and took your palms in his own, passing his calloused thumbs over your trembling knuckles. “hey, hey, it’s okay,”

“i-i”m sorry,” you hiccuped, struggling to speak. “i’m- m’over… overwhelmed,”

“catch your breath,” he whispered, running his palms up and down your arms. his touch was seraphic, and by it, you knew you’d felt it before. lifetimes and lifetimes of it. “take it easy, i’m here.”

when you calmed down, he began again, “can you tell me what happened?” 

“well… i went into the church. to look at the windows, like i said. i was alone, it was maybe around six o'clock by then. they were just finishing mass, and everyone stood up to leave, a-and then they came in,” you stuttered, “the, uh, the shooters. they were- they were in all black, and wore red masks, like ones from the halloween store. they were chanting, they said, baruch hashem. it sounded like hebrew, but i think it was different, i’m not sure. it sounded old. and they were chanting, and they knocked so many people down in the aisles to get to the alter. they fired a few rounds off at the windows, glass fell on my head… i saw a lot of people fall, so i dropped to the ground and pressed my face to the wall. i prayed over and over, to the earth, it’s the only prayer i could remember. i just wanted to hide, y’know? a-and when- when they got up to the altar, they-”

the agent stopped you to ask, “what prayer?” 

“why does it matter?” you sniffled. 

“because it might have been what got you out in time.” 

his eyes were so pleading, and the fire curling around your bones stood to remind you he was to be trusted. so you recited the prayer, a slightly juvenile one that in your newness you cut down to the meat of: “the earth is my mother, i shall not want. she restores my body and awakens my soul. although i walk in the shadow of changing seasons and passing time, i will not fear death, for the essence of life is within me, the peace and beauty of earth comfort me. as i look to the skies with wonder at the immensity of the universe, i know i am blessed beyond measure to live all the days of my life in the bountiful house of gaia.”

the man marveled at how the words spilled from your tongue, so ingrained in your muscle memory that they were second nature. you kept a cadence, and each word was its own. he saw now you were not one to sit surrounded by potions and symbols to cloud your focus; you simply let the power of the world pass through you, and hoped to harness it and be protected as you yielded to it. you repeated that mantra like it was all you had left- he could tell. he’d never met such a modern witch. to him, you were a brand new kind of x file, with subtle powers he has yet to comprehend. 

“that’s beautiful,” he complimented as he squeezed your palms. “alright, now breathe. you're safe. keep talking.”

shutting your eyes, you tried to reimagine the horror. you’d never dreamed of seeing anything so inhumane, but maybe these details would be useful. you can’t have just seen them for nothing. 

“they, um, they took the priest. one of them shot him, and then another laid him on the table, and- and he used a knife to cut him open. there… there was so much blood,” you swallowed thickly. “they took his… y’know, his uh, insides. they dragged them out, and they chanted, and anyone who stood up was shot. i- i watched them take it all and, uh, they put it in the tabernacle, of all places… and their eyes glowed under the masks, bright red, and they never stopped chanting. once they started taking people from the pews with knives, i crawled out the side door, because i had th-this feeling, like, like it would be me next. i felt it everywhere. and when the cops showed up…”

“you didn’t want to get stuck. and you thought i was one of them, coming to take you, so you ran from me.” fox finished your thought, a resonant pain shaking his ribcage at the thought of making an innocent girl just try to outrun the danger. “you saved yourself, you know. i don’t know how your prayer worked, but you did something, summoned something that saved you long enough to get you out.”

“and it made you follow me.” you sighed, wiping your tear-stained cheeks. “why?”

fox’s eyes traveled across your face, inspecting every detail, wishing he had a microscope. his hand raised deliberately to brush a lock of hair from your face. “i don’t know.”

“what is your gut telling you?”

“its…” the man felt like his lungs were going to pop, two balloons over-inflated, under siege by a swarm of butterflies. “i wanted to follow you. to find you, not arrest you. but you kept running, so… y’know, logic took over.”

fox took a moment to fish the handcuff key from his pocket, and he unlocked your wrists, rubbing softly at the red marks. the agent winced, guilt-ridden for fastening them too tight. “does it hurt?”

“no, m’okay,” you muttered. your head was pounding, and when his fingertips grazed your pulse, you felt somewhat weak. 

fox let you rest for a few minutes while he typed up your account. he remembered every word. as he worked, his leg consciously shifted out to knock against your knee, and the two of you sat that way for a while, touching bones. when he was done, he leaned back in the borrowed desk chair and sighed, dragging his big palms down his face. 

“can i ask why you’re investigating this?” you brought one leg over the other, suddenly a bit conscious of the length of your dress. you saw his eyes follow, and you flushed. 

“oh, well, my partner and i- scully, you met her- we’re, uh, we’re investigating a string of ritual murders. we’ve followed these guys through the state, they shoot up masses and do what they believe to be sacrifices to jesus himself. that- that chant you mentioned, baruch hashem, i recognize it. it’s aramaic, the language jesus spoke. means “blessed be the name”. we’ve gathered they chant that over and over and they, uh,” the agent paused, seeing the discomfort on your face, “you don’t want to know the details.”

“no, i do! it's just a little raw is all,” you flashed a meek smile, gesturing with a nod for him to continue. 

“well, they seem to be taking people’s… entrails, the priest’s first, and offering them up by putting them in the tabernacle. my theory is they seem to think that if they offer holy blood, and let it be anointed with the eucharist, it'll reward them with god’s love and immortality. as far as we know, they belong to a cult that moves across the country, sacrificing lives to win god’s favor. and what you saw tonight- what you suffered- it’s going to help us stop them.”

“really?”

“yes, really,” he grinned. “listen, i’m not going to hold you here. you’re a victim, you don’t deserve to keep reliving this. you need to go home, get some rest.”

there was still that fire in you, churning and hissing within your throat, reminding you not to ignore it. you never did. in your practices, you always bended to the will of your fire. every invocation, every motion, was deliberate. it all came through you. you didn’t adhere to the rules of everyone else who believed like you did; you belonged to no wiccan circle, no congregation. you just made your way in the world, a ritualist by nature, working with this life and world while understanding your diversion from it. you let your selves be your guide- every version of you that has lived wisely for your benefit. 

thinking of what you are, and what you’ll become now you’ve met fox mulder, the flames licked your tongue, making you honest again. “i’m scared to leave. i… i don’t want them to come for me.”

fox’s comforting grin fell. he saw how you made yourself small in the chair, and he wished he could switch places. in an instant, he’d be the one interrogated, judged, the one seeing guts and blood when he closed his eyes. he couldn’t let that be what you turned into.

“i can bring you. i can get you security, protective custody, anything you need. i’ll protect you myself if i have to,” fox swore, “i won’t let them get to you, okay?”

a sad little laugh bubbled in your throat, and you reached for the hand that rested on the computer mouse. you adored the feeling of his tired skin beneath yours so sensitive. “i guess i don’t really know what’ll feel safe just yet.”

“then let me take you home, at least,” fox offered. “i do live next door.”

“you do.”

you stood up, feeling a bit achy in the knees. fox offered you his arm and you wrapped your palm around it gratefully. you watched him motion across the station to the pretty redhead you’d met in cuffs, who nodded softly. his partner. there was a smart look in her eye, and you knew she had the answers- to what, you couldn’t be sure, but she held a truth within her. it glowed golden against the pink of her skin.

the agent ushered you to a small car outside the station, opening the passenger side for you to slide in. you giggled at his old-fashioned ways, enamored by how he shed his suit jacket and laid it across your nearly bare legs in the car. “so you don’t get cold,” he explained, but you couldn’t care less about why.

the drive was silent. fox went slowly, although you had the feeling he tended to speed. his hand rested on the gear shift out of baseless habit, even though the car was automatic. he was tense, anxious, aware; the muscle at the curve of his jaw clenched and unclenched like it was keeping time, and a stubborn slice of hair kept falling against his forehead no matter how many times he blew it away. you admired him from your side of the car, seeing how traffic lights reflected in his eyes. all it took was for fox to deal a soft glance your way, with just a slight tilt of the head, for you to feel yourself in this car before, within this exact moment some other lateral time. a second wave of goosebumps riddled your body. 

show me, you begged in silence, willing to be heard by whatever force was showing you new versions of the man behind the wheel. show me who he is. show me who he is to me. 

a sudden burst of rain smacked against the windshield of the car, causing both of you to jump. there was no storm following- it was as if a squall came down, just momentarily, to rinse the car. when you blinked, you saw fox driving a first-edition ford in a tweed coat and flat cap, a cigarette bobbing between his lips as he asked you about your day; then, he was jostling atop a cart, hands on worn horse reigns, singing some folk song you’d never heard. another blink revealed him as a boy, holding your juvenile hand and speaking middle french as he passed you a flower, with that same concentrated head tilt and gaze as all the other visions. you’d been here so many times, protected by him, going towards a life with him. you knew he felt it, too, because the beat of his heart was loud enough to hear how it synced with yours. not a piece of you both was out of time, now that the world had removed its wedge. you rested your hand atop his on the gear shift, and the muscle in his mouth loosened. 

when fox pulled up to your building, you waited for him to come around and let you out with a teasing smile. he took your hand gingerly and led you down the sidewalk. he helped you through your building’s door, up the stairs, and he swiped the keyring from your shaking hands and unlocked your apartment for you. the familiar smell of cinnamon air freshener eased your nerves as you switched on the lights, and you saw fox get a glimpse of your life for the first time. he smiled at your home where you lived in the same room, on the same floor, in the same layout one building away, as him. your living room window looked like his. your television was in the same place. you had far more books, and your desk was littered with drawings, but everything was reminiscent of his apartment. and you saw his home now as you looked around, like you had three-dimensional lenses on- you in the blue film, and him in the red. he had no trouble finding the sink and filling a cup for you while you drifted to the couch and sat down. after having time to settle, your body ached. 

“i can't believe this,” was all he could say. 

you took the glass from him and sipped it greedily, falling out of shock and into need. you patted the cushion beside you, and he took a seat.

“you’re familiar with past lives, right?”

“well, yeah,” he confirmed, “i know different theories and cultural views of reincarnation. it's an interesting concept, to be born again but always the same, an amalgamation of the people you were before.”

“i think so, too.”

“but you’re wiccan, so you know all about that already, right?”

“well, i think you should know that things for me are different, fox. i mean, i tell people i’m wiccan, so they call me a witch, and i go with that. i guess i’m spooky to other people. i lean into it because it does them less harm to simplify me and me less harm to just live how i want in private. if i could create a whole new kind of practice, i would, but sometimes its easier to just let people see you how they do and move along,” you elucidated. “what you might think wiccans believe isn’t always what i believe, y’know? it’s just the closest label. works better than deist or freak or whatever. and being here with you, and all these visions, these memories i’m having… i don’t really know what i’m getting at. this is all to say that yes, i believe in past lives, and i’m not so much wiccan as i am just myself.”

“i get it. you follow your own rules. you have an instinct, just something that kind of… burns in you, right?” 

all the words he could’ve used, and he chose burn. because love burns, pain burns, life burns. this entire night has burned you. and he’s burned, too, branded with the belief you share.

“yeah.”

“so, did you know me in your version of past lives, then?” the agent inquired, bumping your knee with his knuckles playfully.

“i know i did, because i asked the world to show you to me, and now i see every version of you. four, maybe five of you, in the same exact moment. you don’t change. and you’re always with me, always a force. this gentle, ferocious thing, keeping me to yourself. and i think in each one, i love you.”

fox’s brain was swimming in confusion while his body buzzed with want. distractedly, he wondered, “how can something be gentle and ferocious?”

softly, you recited, “it’s astounding the first time you realize that a stranger has a body. the realization that he has a body makes him a stranger. it means you have a body, too. you will live with this forever, and it will spell out the language of your life.”

fox beamed, “if beale street could talk. you are well read.”

you set the glass of water down on the coffee table that looked just like his, and you said, “i know you, fox. not in this life yet, but i’ve known you in every one before. coincidences aren’t just coincidences.”

“i never thought so,” the agent nodded thoughtfully. you couldn’t tell what was in his head this time, and you wanted so badly to know. when he did reveal a question, you didn’t expect it. “what was the part of that prayer you said for me earlier? something about the universe?” 

quietly, you recanted: “as i look to the skies with wonder at the immensity of the universe, i know i am blessed beyond measure to live all the days of my life in the bountiful house of gaia.”

fox’s face burst into a wild smile, one that used every tooth he had. he thought of how his entire life, he looked up to the stars, worshiped them; hoping they’d be benevolent enough to bring his sister back, to save his life, to make all of his pain worthwhile. and there they were, divine within your oldest prayer, the very same prayer that guided him from the church in your direction in the first place. you could believe it was the earth, or the spirits you confided in all you liked, but to him the stars had made it all possible. maybe he was a witch in his own way, too, if he played by your rules. 

fox sat in silence with you for a while, refilling your glass while you collected your nerves. the man offered to patch a few of your cuts just so he could pick apart the details of your life in the apartment. with the cover of looking for a first aid kit, he flipped through your books, searching for your copy of james baldwin. he admired your records, finding music he’s loved for years and some he’s never heard before. he studied your little jars of herbs that coexisted alongside tylenol bottles. he saw the parts of your window that you colored with magic marker, because of how you longed for true stained glass. he frowned, thinking what a shame it was those bastards destroyed the art you’d gone to admire tonight. 

as he looked, he learned again what it is like to feel your presence, to be surrounded by you. he felt a sudden gap mending in the space within him, and he didn’t need magic to know why. falling in love was magical enough. 

you spent some time allowing fox to nurse your bumps and bruises (once he stopped fake-looking for the first aid kit), and admired how he childishly placed bandaids all over your arms and legs as if they’d heal all. it was more about letting him care for you, and feeling his hands in places you’d only hoped they’d touched before. he hummed softly to himself all the while, and you were a puddle by the time he finished; when you were the center of his focus, he was nothing but a big sap, muttering soft praises and showering you with smiles. you couldn’t believe it took you so long to find him, or rather that the world took so long to bring you his way. you had so much to make up for now.

when it was time for him to go, you followed him to the door like a puppy. you didn’t feel the discomfort anymore, or the fear of your death. you only felt the doting hands of karma, proving to you the night was simply a means to a much greater end. (un)coincidentally, karma’s hands felt just like his. 

fox leaned in your doorway, his tie undone and his authority stripped. “i’ll come by to check on you in the morning,” he assured. 

“i’ll be here.”

“where do you work?” fox asked, and when your lips melted into a helpless grin, he pushed, “come on, where?”

“i’m a receptionist at the national archives.” 

the believer before you fell to the mercy of his faith, picturing the building on the same street as his job. he imagined how many times you must have walked past him to go to work, all those days spent believing in a love he was missing. his ageless eyes folded on themselves with disbelief, and his laugh rattled deep in his chest.

“jesus. are you sure you’re not something else? a genie, a spirit? an angel?” 

“nope. just a witch. and a bad one, at that.”

you pushed onto your tip-toes and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, finding his scruff so familiar to your lips. he sighed softly at the touch of your hands, feeling embers sparking in their wake. 

like it was a secret, he murmured, “i have one more question.”

“hm?”

“why do you choose me? if you’ve lived all these lives, why me?”

you settled back onto your heels and smiled. your palm rested against his jaw as you replied, “you know, i don’t think i ever had a choice.”

he wanted to kiss you, but you both know he’s too much of a gentleman. so he only gazed at you for a while, pressing your hand flush to his face, before letting it fall and stepping into the hallway. and as you watched him leave, you imagined every time he’d come back to save you, to love you, to tilt his head and realign himself as the lover you’ve kept for lifetimes.

“you know where to find me,” you called after the man, and he looked over his shoulder with enough love to shatter the sky.

“i guess i always do, don’t i?”

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°

prayer altered for story, sourced from this website

quote used from novel if beale street could talk by james baldwin

[hazbinned]

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄! - Val.

whether it be melodies that give you inspiration for your muse or songs that get you into the writing mood — pick 10 songs you find to give you the urge, the drive, or the creativity to write for your muse!

🦋 Smash The Mirror - You don't answer my call with even a nod or a wink, but you gaze at your own reflection! Alright! You don't seem to see me but I think you can see yourself. How can the mirror affect you? Can you hear me, or do I surmise? That you fear me, can you feel my temper rise, rise, rise, rise...!

🦋Private Property - Private property, don't run off with it, you'll be breaking the law. Love monopoly, my philosophy, don't go fooling with private property! 'Cause she's mine, she belongs to me-- and we'll get on fine as long as you agree! That she's my private property, private property...

🦋Stuck In The Middle - Uh, check it out, uh, check out! I look at you, you look at me, we bite each other. And with your bitter words, you kick me in the gutter. But my troops are bigger than yours! 'Cause you'll never staaaand my fight! [...] Ah, ah, ah, is there anybody home who wants to have me just to love me? [...] This is to my name, this ain't a greater plan to break your heart of me. I know that what I've started means that when we have parted, I can live in honesty.

🦋Liability - He don't wanna know me, says he made the big mistake of dancing in my storm. Says it was poison... so I guess I'll go home, into the arms of the girl that I love, the only love I haven't screwed up. She's so hard to please, but she's a forest fire. I do my best to meet her demands, play at romance, we slow dance in the living room, but all that a stranger would see is one girl swaying alone, stroking her cheek. They say, "You're a little much for me. You're a liability, you're a little much for me." So they pull back, make other plans. I understand, I'm a liability. Get you wild, make you leave. I'm a little much for e-a-na-na-na, everyone.

🦋Bad Reputation - I don't give a damn 'bout my reputation! Living in the past, it's a new generation. A girl can do what she wants to do, and that's what I'm gonna do. An' I don't give a damn 'bout my bad reputation! Oh no, not me! An' I don't give a damn 'bout my reputation, never said I wanted to improve my station, an' I'm only doin' good when I'm havin' fun, an' I don't have to please no one!

🦋Bad, Bad, Leroy Brown - Now, Leroy, he's a gambler, and he likes his fancy clothes. And he likes to wave his diamond rings in front of everybody's nose. He got a custom Continental, he got an Eldorado too. He got a 32 gun in his pocket for fun, he got a razor in his shoe.

🦋It's Still Rock And Roll To Me - How about a pair of pink sidewinders, and a bright orange pair of pants? You could really be a Beau Brummel, baby, if you just give it half a chance! Don't waste your money on a new set of speakers, you'd get more mileage from a cheap pair of sneakers. Next phase, new wave, dance craze, anyways- it's still rock and roll to me!

🦋Solid Gold Easy Action - Life is the same, and it always will be. Easy as picking foxes from a tree. (hey hey hey) But I can't get no satisfaction, all I want is easy action! (hey hey hey) (hey hey hey) A stud is a lamb with the thoughts of a tiger- (hey hey hey) Who moves like a cat and knows how to ride her (hey hey hey)- But I can't get no satisfaction, all I want is easy action, baby!

🦋Grace Kelly - Do I attract you? Do I repulse you with my queasy smile? Am I too dirty, am I too flirty? Do I like what you like? I could be wholesome, I could be loathsome, I guess I'm a little bit shy. Why don't you like me, why don't you like me, without making me try? [...] I could be brown, I could be blue, I could be violet sky! I could be hurtful, I could be purple, I could be anything you like! Gotta be green, gotta be mean, gotta be everything more. Why don't you like me, why don't you like me? Walk out the door!

🦋I Might Say Something Stupid - I might say something stupid... Talk to myself in the mirror. Wear these clothes as disguise... just to re-enter the party, door is open, let in but still outside. I look perfect for the background, I get nervous, sip the wine. [...] I don't feel like nothing special, I snag my tights out on the lawn chair. Guess I'm a mess and play the role. Used to live just for the party, door is open, I'm famous but not quite. But I'm perfect for the background. One foot in a normal life.

Tagged by: Stolen from @hellpride

Tagging: @angie-long-legs @sirserpentine @staticintone @harteatiing @hostradio

[nimblermortal]

I'm beginning to doubt I will actually write this, due to an acute deficit of creative energy, so here are my notes in reaction to the July 1 SCOTUS nonsense. It plays out in my head as a comic.

The first part is a montage of Trump's campaign, his misdoings, and finally the Court's findings, with a panel of Sotomayor's dissent. In response to this newfound panel, in a way that is neatly foreshadowed, Biden orders SEAL Team Six to assasinate Trump, end chapter. Various pundits worry about what will happen to the country now, etc.

The next page, Biden is lying in bed. He gets up. He goes through his old man morning routine. (It is very important, throughout this, that Biden is always drawn/treated as a Little Old Man.) He sits down at the breakfast table. He tells his aide, "I have spent all my life defending the Constitution. I just don't know, in light of this SCOTUS decision, if I've done enough." There's a wordless panel of his face as he contemplates. Then he says, "Call a press conference."

At the press conference he announces that as an official act he will be killing one Republican per day until the decision is overturned.

A journalist raises his hand. He's from Fox News or similar. He says, "Don't you think that -"

Biden pulls out a gun (Bond Arms Bullpup) and shoots him. He flicks his aviators up on his face.

"I'll be back tomorrow," he announces, leaning into the microphone. And then he hobbles off stage.

The next several pages follow his next days: McConnell. Clarence Thomas. Ted Cruz. The sequence echoes Death Note (which I haven't read) rather strongly, with politicians trying to barricade themselves in ever tighter security, but no private force can stand against the amassed might of the entire United States marshaled behind its executive leader.

There's a vignette among the Secret Service as they question their own loyalty. Should they still be protecting this killer? This isn't what they signed on to do. But... it is what they thought they signed on to do. It's the coolest thing they've ever done, body checking private security out of the way so the president can get through with his [insert fancy gun here - @icryyoumercy I need another fancy gun please].

Note: Biden uses a silencer whenever possible to avoid making a racket. He's perfectly out in the open, he just doesn't believe in disturbing the peace with high decibel levels.

Cue to Biden at breakfast again. His aide is notably more cowed as Biden says, "I've spent my whole life defending the constitution. I just don't know if I've made a big enough impact. Henry..." The panel shifts. "Get me a machine gun."

This transitions to the chapter "President of the United Submachine Gun" which features the most epic action scenes: Biden framed in light as he crouches behind the Browning, clothes blowing back from him, shells scattering around, clearing rooms as he moves through the Houses of Congress.

January 6 featured a mob invading the Houses. Joe Biden will do it all by himself.

(Almost. The gun is too heavy for him to carry, so his aide has to keep moving it and setting up a support structure/turret for him to fire from. "Murrica," says Henry, bolting in the support structure for the executive Browning.)

After this we enter the epilogue and its voiceover narration. It's important that the action de-escalates lightning fast.

A few days later the Supreme Court retracted its decision and in a unanimous 3-0 vote (there being only 3 judges left on the court) declared the president is equal under the law to every other citizen.

Biden gave up his weapons peacefully and retired to prison without argument. He died five months later.

(This is over panels of him walking like a creaky old man into a prison facility, and a gravestone featuring his name, a carved pair of aviators, and the words NO REGRETS.)

In the resulting political vacuum, normalcy slowly asserted itself. Most politicians were either implicated in the rampage, or dead. On January 17, with emergency candidates dug out of obscurity, the president of [that one library that got famous for resisting censorship] was sworn into the highest office of the land.

(This section includes a panel of campaign paraphrenalia, including slogans such as Harris: Still an Option and Cruz: Holy Shit What the Fuck, with the latter crossed out and replaced with RIP.)

Her first act, to enshrine the limitations of the presidency into the Constitution, passed without contest.

[tidelure]

ᵀᴴᴵˢ ᴳᴵᴿᴸ ᴵˢ ᶜᴴᴬᴿᴳᴱᴰ ᵂᴵᵀᴴ ᴬᴸᴸ ᵀᴴᴱ ᶠᴱᴹᴵᴺᴵᴺᴵᵀʸ ᴵᴺ ᵀᴴᴱ ᵂᴼᴿᴸᴰ. ᴵᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒ ⁿᵉᵃʳ ʰᵉʳ ᵒʳ ᵗᵒᵘᶜʰ ʰᵉʳ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠⁱⁿᵍᵉʳ, ᵃ ˢᵖᵃʳᵏ ʷⁱˡˡ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉⁱᵗʰᵉʳ ᵏⁱˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵒʳ ᵉˡᵉᶜᵗʳⁱᶠʸ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʷʰᵒˡᵉ ˡⁱᶠᵉ. ᴵᶠ ⁱᵗ’ˢ ˢᵒ ᵖᵃⁱⁿᶠᵘˡ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ᵐᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃᵇˢᵒʳᵇ ᵉˡᵉᶜᵗʳⁱᶜⁱᵗʸ, ʰᵒʷ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵖᵃⁱⁿᶠᵘˡ ⁱᵗ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵃ ʷᵒᵐᵃⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉˡᵉᶜᵗʳⁱᶜⁱᵗʸ, ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ⁱⁿˢᵖⁱʳᵉ ˡᵒᵛᵉ.

                  ⁰⁰¹            𝚜𝚊𝚑𝚒𝚗 - 𝚟𝚊𝚗 𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜,          𝚟𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚊.   

GENERAL .

FULL  NAME.     vedia nanne sahin - van ness     SOBRIQUET(S)  /  ALIAS(ES)  /  TITLE(S)     .     aside from the occasionally shortened vee, and some cousins who call her an affectionate nana, she's known to more than one individual in town as  princess.   AGE     .    twenty - five  ( 25 )  GENDER  +  PRONOUNS     .   cis  woman,  she  +  her     ORIENTATION     .   tbd     OCCUPATIONS     .   unemployed, aka heiress to the sahin - van ness fortune & lead actress at playhouse theatre.     TRAITS     .   captivating, sensitive, charming, fanciful, coquettish, selfish, vain, spoiled, curious, mercurial, escapist, jealous, warm, graceful, romantic, melancholy, creative.

PRESENCE .

HEIGHT     .   stands at 5'2"   HAIR     .     dark brown, long & meticulously upkept.  EYE COLOUR  . green, though up close one will notice a blue limbal ring at the border of the iris. also known as central heterochromia. example here.  BODY . very petite, slender.  DISTINGUISHING FEATURES . most noticeable is her large doe eyes. particularly small wrists and ankles.        VOICE CLAIM     .     tbd. 

HISTORY : TRIGGER WARNINGS : mention of mental health condition ( delusional disorder ), suicide/death, implied murder.

this is a story about many stories. you would be forgiven for thinking it an anthology, one which moves from one tale to the next with identifiable delineations in between, the usual deaths and births and corresponding blank pages to mark them, but this is not quite that sort of chronicle. the story i am about to tell you is one that overlaps, one that has been written from one pot of ink onto the same few scraps of paper. if you lift each page to the light, you will see the overlay of the dozens who have come before whispering in faded ink: ghosts in the margins. this story, as you must understand, is a palimpsest. i cannot tell you about her without speaking of everyone who came before.

it begins with someone very far away, an ancestor very distant and yet not so remote to be the very first man. he was a sahin, as she is a sahin, and he lived in the cove, as she lives in the cove. yet the one we know now sits on great wealth, and this man has been dirt and rock to lay upon. but as the tale-tellers would tell it, he is clever as a fox and just as willing to dig in the mud to find his meal. clever and foxlike enough, they say, not to care what bones he unearths in the process. smart and beastial enough to do what must be done to ascertain a future. what is known for certain is this: one day the sahin family line has no hope, the next it prospers. what can be said of the dates is that they are coincidental at best, damning at worst: this change occurs on the meridian line of the cove's great shipwreck. it is never proven, ne'er so much as confirmed by the breath of a dying man, but still there are whispers of men who stood out on the cliffs, hanging a great lantern from a tall distance, calling a ship to its fatal end so as to gut and skin it. profit born from death.

so that man from very far away, he grows very rich very suddenly, and from the seed of business he plants grows the sahin empire. their profit tangles inevitably with the sleepy town of kilmer cove, twisting until they stand as a pillar of the very community, but so too does tragedy braid itself into the family line like supporting beams. inexplicable deaths and strange misfortunes plague the sahin family generation by generation, and amongst the townsfolk comes the word curse. cursed they are, each and every one of them, for the acts of their ancestor.

in all the time that passes the world grows more modern, and perhaps less superstitious, but no less strange. there seems a time where curses and sea-doom has been outgrown or at least cast off, shed like the worn shingles of an aged house, but the curse in our blood always comes back. safiye sahin-van ness is a woman of untenable loveliness. though she passes before her granddaughter may meet her, it's said they bare an eerie resemblance to one another: a thing vedia may only gauge from old photographs and the haunted look upon her father's face. but safiye, beloved as she is, meets an early and tragic death like so many come before her. held by a mental health condition that would never fully relent no matter what treatment was provided, safiye would come to believe she was a kelpie being forcedly kept from her home in the sea — a idea no doubt acquired from the town's oft-discussed dark lore. in a fit of delusion, she sought to return to the saltwater: and in pitching herself from the cliffs, met a final end. in the sahin-van ness household, who blame the townsfolk's gossip for the ideation fixed in safiye's head, talk of the curse and all local legends are banished.

in vedia's birth, the world alters its very material. everything becomes silk and satin. paranoid for the safety of his child, the sahin-van ness patriarch keeps his daughter swaddled at all times, and ensures that which she comes into contact with shows only its soft underbelly. weaned on the milk and honey of the world, the girl grows to be as she is fed, soft and heavily sweetened. how could it be any other way, when she's been shown no salt, no fat? undoubtedly spoiled, indefensibly selfish, she is also a delight incarnate: a heady mix of charm and beauty, naïvete and genuine warmth, that can only be bred under the proper circumstances. perhaps it is this tincture of soul that sees her so beloved, or perhaps this love the town shows her is built from fear, the wariness that without protection, she will be dragged under by the same dark force that stole those innocents that came before. a preeminent darling. a doomed daughter.

the township releases its breath as she grows, drawing finally into the shape of a woman: this, surely, is a good sign. but fate likes to strike at the weak places, the liminal spots of the body, the space between exhale and the very next inhale. drawn to the glamour of the thespian, vedia debuts at the playhouse: a talented little ingenue, all agree. compelling and convincing in equal turns, masqueraded from one role to the next, too skilled for their little stage. yet it is not until her first tragic role that the audience goes still — her performance so real, so terribly raw, that they can feel the scratch of pain in their own throats. for one long minute the room stays silent, no sound to be heard but the clenching of jaws. the applause, then, is ravenous. a great beast rising up and over her heard. the girl in the spotlight blinks as if stunned, as if forgetting where she finds herself — who she finds herself situated within. then in a moment she is back, great doe eyes blinking coyly at that array of hands, the scent of honey filling the room once more. yet as this great talent persists across more shows, growing more consuming with each tragedian role — from shakespeare to chekhov, tennessee williams to arthur miller — so too do the rumours. no mortal thing, this talent of hers. too strange, too overlarge. this unnerving ability is a portent, an omen, a sign: the curse is back. and it possesses vedia's thick-beating heart.

SPARKNOTES .

vedia is the daughter of the sahin-van ness family, one of the wealthiest & oldest families in town. though well-respected, local rumour is that the family is cursed due to their ancestor's terrible act -- allegedly purposefully causing the infamous kilmer cove shipwreck which resulted in many deaths. the family has had many great tragedies over the years, including several early deaths; most notably among them vedia's grandmother (who she's said to very closely physically resemble), who had a delusive disorder which saw her believing she was a kelpie. in an episode she throws herself off the cliffs to "return" to the sea, resulting in her death. due to her father's belief in the family curse, vedia is coddled and closely protected as a child by himself and those around her. consequently she becomes a darling of the town, an unofficial princess. long thought to have been swaddled enough to avoid the family doom, lately there is talk that the curse has reached vedia, due to her performances at the playhouse — her tragedies on stage seem so real, so genuine and heartbreaking, that it can only be the mark of some kind of haunting.

HEADCANONS :

per this quote, vedia has something of a classic transatlantic accent, as does the rest of her family.

vedia sleepwalks something terrible, a challenge she's dealt with since childhood. generally this only occurs within the house, but there have been a handful of occasions she's been found in her nightgown in town.

while she is genetically only a sahin, the hyphenated surname van ness comes from a second/late in life marriage three generations ago. at the time it was a big deal, as the van ness family (and their fortune) predates even the sahin's, and the merging was the cause for great celebration. while the marriage never bore any children, the surnames have remained hyphenated, and children in the family are given a middle name from one of the van ness ancestors.

the sahin-van ness's have a storied history of getting their dogs from the same breeder one town over, and have also had teddy's mother, grandfather, and various other ancestors in the house.

she wears a locket baring a figure vedia has yet to identify, but is actually melpomene - the greek muse of tragedy. she borrowed stole this locket from a box in her father's room. it belonged to her grandmother - the one she supposedly bares a great image too. he does not know she has it, and she takes great pains to hide it from him. is vedia possessed by the spirit of melpomene .... has she made a deal w her .... whose to say !

she knows far more about the world and the "curse" than she lets on :) the charade is upkept for the benefit of others, most especially her father

as could be expected, vedia's family live in their ancestral home, by now a couple hundred years old. why yes it is on top of a hill, however did you guess? why yes there is decay below the opulence, wood rotted by seaspray, a view of the cliffs...

CHARACTER INSPIRATIONS :

catherine earnshaw, wuthering heights. scarlett o'hara, gone with the wind. daisy buchanan, the great gatsby. katrina van tassel, sleepy hollow. victoria everglot, corpse bride. bluebeard's bride, bluebeard. charlotte la bouff, the princess and the frog. the whispering muse by laura purcell. jamaica inn by daphne du maurier. every gothic heroine whose ever run from a dark estate at midnight in a flowing white gown.

WANTED CONNECTIONS :

HAUNT ME THEN . 24-30 masc. the heathcliff to her cathy... a deep unbreakable bond established in childhood that no one else can ever fully understand or touch, and a thing that quietly grew to its own strange kind of love. they either haven't or no longer speak of these emotions, particularly because he is not of the same ilk as the sahin-van ness family. my god please give me this

I AM NO BIRD . tourist or out of towner. an individual who has come from outside of kilmer cove, and bonded with vedia. perhaps they're still dazzled, but they witness her without the mirage of fog that is applied by those steeped in the kilmer cove lore: and they can see clearly that the bog of this place and this mythology is not mystic, but it is dooming her all the same. she should leave and start anew elsewhere, and they don't understand why she won't do just that — so they intend to convince her of as much, or perhaps take her with them when they leave.

WE CAN NEVER GO BACK AGAIN . an longterm crush of vedia's that's likely unattainable, be it because of age or relationship status or some other quality. they have to her over the years evolved beyond a person and become more of an idea or ideal, and she's never been able to let this affection go. / ALTERNATIVELY, this can be done the opposite, with someone harbouring this sort of crush on her.

I WALK ENCHANTED . an individual who become particularly stunned by her performances at the playhouse, and has since been sure to attend every one. they have the desire to get to know her, but her status has kept them shyly afar. pls come give her a rose at the stage door she'll promptly fall in love (for at least a week)

MISCELLANEOUS . friends that go all the way back to childhood, please !!! a group of rich kids whose bond is tangled and weird and (call that the gothic non judgemental breakfast club). cameron/bianca 10 things i hate about you energy ("are you asking me out? that's so cute! what's your name again?" vs "have you always been this selfish?" "... yes."). mom- and dad-friends who look after her and her whimsies. someone whose found her sleepwalking in town (princess anne and joe, anyone?)

[perdvivly]

Also do a🌻

I think it’s a shame that “The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog” is the best known pangram. It’s both rather inefficient as pangrams go (35 letters) and not particularly creative to make up for it.

Consider this pangrammatic autogram for example: “This pangram contains four As, one B, two Cs, one D, thirty Es, six Fs, five Gs, seven Hs, eleven Is, one J, one K, two Ls, two Ms, eighteen Ns, fifteen Os, two Ps, one Q, five Rs, twenty-seven Ss, eighteen Ts, two Us, seven Vs, eight Ws, two Xs, three Ys, & one Z.” Which is massively inefficient of course, but creative enough to make up for that.

I do really like the tumblr-famous pangram “Sphinx of black quartz, judge my vow” but not quite as much as “waltz, bad nymph, for quick jigs vex” (both of which are more efficient than the more famous jumping fox).

There aren’t known perfect pangrams in English that don’t have some glaring defect. Sure there’s “Mr Jock, TV quiz PhD, bags few lynx” which doesn’t make sense as a sentence and uses abbreviations, and “Cwm fjord bank glyphs vext quiz” which is frankly too arcane and only makes sense if you really squint.

But!

There is a famous perfect pangram in Japanese. *And* it’s a really pretty Buddhist poem too. There are a few caveats like the first record of its existence comes from 1079 and so it has some obsolete and historical hiragana and there have been phonological changes over time etc. but check it out, it’s really neat: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Iroha

[zahri-melitor]

Future State:

So this is a qualified opinion based on the fact I have only read the Bat-related titles and have not yet read the Bat book storylines subsequent to this, but my first impression of this is that you are just fine to skip anything in Future State that you don't want to read.

It does contain 'who is the Magistrate'. The Magistrate are a paramilitary force paid for by Mayor Nakano to hunt down 'masks' in Gotham (both capes and rogues). Their major members are called 'Peacekeepers'. If you literally just substitute the current cape-hunting paramilitary force of Peacemakers commanded by Amanda Waller in your mind, you've got the entire effect without needing to read any of it (Also Gotham is indulging in its neon futurism aesthetic, so think Batman: Gotham Knights the game, or just Bladerunner).

I only have time to read one title: Future State: Dark Detective. The A story in this title follows Bruce working undercover to find a way to reveal what's going on inside the Magistrate. The creative team is Mariko Tamaki, Dan Mora and Jordie Bellaire. One of the only stories in the entire set where I would confidently say this was still a solid yarn even out of context.

I'm interested in John Ridley's Fox Family Drama: read the A story of Future State: The Next Batman. Tam's had a relapse (because nobody can track whether or not Tam is supposed to be better or not), Luke's literally at a loose end because of plotting changes, you meet Jace, Tiffany has been aged up by the time jump to effectively be the age she was back pre-Flashpoint, Tanya is angry at the world because reasons (Tam) and Lucius is making bad decisions because ???.

What else do you think is a fun story? Future State: Catwoman is a train heist story with neon futurism aesthetics, which is busy indulging in re-education camp/concentration camp themes with more than a dash of Hunger Games references. Creative team is Ram V and Otto Schmidt (no prizes for guessing why it's a good story hey). Worth it just for Selina and Talia working at slight cross purposes but acknowledging the other has her own goals.

The E plot of Future State: The Next Batman (the Gotham City Sirens) has Ivy, Selina and slave android named Dee-Dee who has broken from her creator. This is fun for me personally because it is the rare concept where Ivy and Selina are bouncing off each other and Harley is nowhere in sight. The characterisation is at best fine, but the GCS vibes are there and fun.

The rare 'look I don't want to read this but it's well written' award: Future State: Harley Quinn. I deeply, deeply do not care about Harley, but if more of Harley's books were written like this, I think I would enjoy her far more as a character. So, recommendation for the 2021 run of Harley Quinn under Stephanie Phillips, I suppose (I am not planning on reading it).

The rest: look, the biggest issue with basically all of the Future State titles is due to being set in media res of an altered future, there's an awful lot of characters with changed personalities and no clear connections as to why they're acting OOC. And I'm a full believer in 'if you show me how the character got there, it's not OOC', but the whole concept of this is we don't get to see how the characters got there. So you're stuck going "why is Jefferson Davis currently a being of pure lightning, this isn't Jakeem Thunder". "has this writer read a single Stephanie Brown story not written by Bryan Q. Miller? (Vita Ayala I have been anticipating getting to your Wonder Woman stuff but wow you can't write Cass or Steph)". "I really wish this story where Dick is based in the bowels of an abandoned Arkham Asylum was leaning more into the Batman RIP/Reborn era storytelling around Dick and Arkham Asylum" and so on.

Characters don't fully track in their storylines between titles. Who's imprisoned when? Who are Two-Face and Croc working with? What hero titles are Cass, Steph, Barbara and Tim using? What costumes are people using? And so on and so forth.

You can really tell it's worked up from existing plots that got some surgery to rewrite them from the initial concept. Damian is Sir Not Appearing for the entire set of Bat titles, which makes sense on one level (given this is based out of scrapped 5G material) but makes absolutely no sense on another. Talia al Ghul is running around the background of at least two stories helping out the Bats, with no explanation given, but Damian can't be thrown into the art of group scenes because???

Like, read Mariko Tamaki, Ram V and maybe John Ridley because they can actually write solid stories and know (or are busy creating narratives for) the characters they're working with. Ridley's busy retconning a huge amount of existing Fox family stories but as it is he's setting up what will be their default for the ongoing future. Skip everything else unless you're feeling completionist (or interested in the Jason Todd-based alternate future title that spins out of this in Future State: Gotham).