#i say was as if he isn't still one of said id kins

[xox-b1te-m3-xox]

laurance ranting at 6 am bc im sleep deprived and i love him but he's so stupid and i could talk about him for hours

season 2 laurance is a character that i personally relate to, infinitely more than the orange haired green eyed idiot that was ripped from final fantasy to be part of a minecraft roleplay series in 2015, but i'm gonna try to be as unbiased about this rambling as i possibly can

the whole of laurance's existence is. tragedy. there's not a single good thing that this man can have without something happening and ruining that. already he shows off as a character who struggles to the extremes with his self image and his worth, and i feel like this is something that's already deeply rooted in characters that are put into a guard role, some moreso than others (especially for those that feel they were built to be a human weapon)

i mean. laurance lived a relatively normal life until he fell in love with aphmau, and following her as the series protagonist just. brings misery everywhere because it serves for a story yknow, even aphmau's not immune to the curse of having every bad thing that could happen happen to her

with laurance it's a bit of a unique case, and that's not just me being biased either. it feels like he is specifically singled out for quite a few tragic events. the worst part about it really is that he's never necessarily given the time to process things, which only further serves to bring his worst traits to light. his obsessive jealousy for aphmau begins to take presedence over his friendship with garroth and it strains his relationship with aphmau herself, his want to still be human overshadows the reality that he is a shadow knight and it only proves to drag him down even further, not only making his anger issues turn from mere outbursts to sudden violence but it begins to change some of his core values. yeah accepting that he's a monster wouldn't necessarily fix him, but it's easier to do that than to live in denial and try so hard to convince yourself you're still 'normal'

the fact it took until he committed mass slaughter to finally wake up a little was already bad enough, but by then it was too late for all that and he'd already suffered enough, and he'd began a spiral that it was difficult to recover from

when tragedy comes to the other characters they're given so much more room to process their feelings, to vent and to recover. laurance doesn't get that often, and even when he does it seems like he turns it away. he feels like the kind of character who heavily bottles his emotions, and to an extent he sort of does! holding back on his romantic advances, hiding his anger because of the fear of hurting and killing others that he cares about... you get the drill.

despite a lot of that his only good trait in these moments of vulnerability is how rarely he lies; he's very open about a lot of his thoughts even if they're bad. to an extent it's admirable, but yeah he goes too far. hence the argument with garroth...

his circumstances to an extent do at the very least give some insight as to why he acted the way he did. it's not like he was a popular guy; good looking, but, he didn't really have anything. couldn't even have a parent who could stick around because he'd always lose them to tragedy. couldn't have a sister to be around because he was always in another city, and she has her own life and responsibilities so she can't always be there at the drop of a hat anymore. when he went to the irene dimension, 15 years passed by and she changed; he didn't because he only had 15 minutes.

on top of all that he can't really have the same close friend group like he once had because one of them has a family and kids to focus on, and the other he's always starting arguments and fights with over a girl they both like. really, all of them were deeply changed by the realization of just how long the were in the irene dimension for, but seeing how laurance develops later on makes me wonder just how badly it did affect him, and how little about it we probably know.

and even admist all that he has character flaws that are rooted in him being misogynistic, primarily his rivalry with garroth. when he and cadenza had their talk, where cadenza even pushed the idea that laurance deserved aphmau for all he'd done for her with no reward, he pushed it down. he was just happy to be around her, and that was enough for him. he didn't care if his feelings weren't returned, he was just glad he got to be with her at all. but during the later half of season 2, it felt like that narrative began to shift. naturally it began with lilith's introduction, and aphmau's sudden and out of nowhere pregnancy, and we saw how all that went down.

i honestly don't know why i latched onto laurance specifically, but i feel like his tragedy is... exaggerated. at the same time, i feel like how he suffers through and deals with it is very realistic, and it does touch a personal part of me that i also try to repress. my portrayal of laurance might not be entirely accurate to the canon material, but i do feel like it's at least based on canon as close as i can make it without totally projecting. his emotional outbursts are nothing new, but some were way more uncalled for than others.

at the same time, these outbursts aren't out of character nor are they entirely unwanted. they were caused by something, and whether or not he's been open about the root cause (or we've seen the root cause for ourselves) is irrelevant. i feel like laurance is one of the better examples of how your environment fucks with you. his relationships with a lot of the main cast aren't healthy. at least, they aren't anymore. his relationship with aphmau is a prime example of one such relationship.

neither side of this dynamic is healthy! granted, laurance's side is infinitely worse (as much as i hate to admit it), but neither of them were in the right all the time. they've both had to knock some sense into eachother at one point or another, but they're always prone to relapsing because it's never a constant thing. aphmau's anger issues starting to crop up is just an example of how the stress of life has been getting to her during the season, and while it's something that laurance could relate to in a lot of aspects, he's no better at controlling his own anger and emotions than her.

and i feel like there's just a lot of resentment in the main 'friend' group anyways (that being aphmau, laurance, katelyn, garroth, dante, and travis)

honestly there are not many healthy friendships or relationships in mcd lmao, and i think that mainly comes down to their circumstances more than anything; mystreet characters don't really have an excuse for their actions they're just shit people a lot of the time because it's a funny gag. in mcd the stakes are way higher, and at least you can understand how somebody turned out to be so horrible in that world.

if i ever get back to working on my own mcd rewrite i know i would love to just give laurance a happy ending in my version of the story, but his tragedy is what makes him himself. i'm not excited to have to write his misery all over again (i know i could write it way worse than jess did, as in in a 'this thing is awful to write about but it's realistic and difficult to ignore' way not 'this is just bad writing and people can assume what they want' way)

[fictionkinfessions]

I'm not even saying who I am. But that ask about the ec kin I cut off.

First off. I didn't cut you off. I politely left the server because you kin Adam and while he did bad things in canon and you may not have personally, you have no idea what he did to ME personally. I said in the server that you were free to stay my friend, message me on tumblr, and continue following my blog. I left for my own comfort and safety. I did not have to extend that kindness to you. I could've left and immediately blocked you. But I didn't because I cared. I only unfollowed and blocked you after you started vague posting on main about me being there still. So I left.

Don't act like I did wrong by leaving when it's for my own comfort and safety. Like it or not, if you read the actual novels, Adam Moonlit is a justified reason for someone to leave a discord server. Not to mention, just like your canons affect you, my canons affect me. Had you not posted on your main blog vaguing me/others I would have stayed following you and perhaps we could have had a conversation later about things.

Please leave me/the others who left alone, we didn't do anything wrong by leaving a damn discord server civilly. Sending an ask like that to a public blog is really awful, especially singling people out like that and not giving full context to the situation.

-one of many ec kinnies

(sorry for sending this, I just needed to address that awful ask. I will not send anything further. )

Because of this ask, any confession vagueing irl people who are or aren't canon mates that have allegedly abandoned the confessor or cut ties or just dropped off the face of the earth are banned. I'm sorry you are hurt but this is the kind of venting that needs to go in your hello kitty diary, not a public forum.

I am sick of people not being able to take No For An Answer and drag this personal shit out into public on my blog.

One grow up and Two you're shitty person if you do this. I'm not saying abusive or manipulative, that's a specific scenario and a one off isn't necessarily a concrete habit so to speak. Also I know nothing of either of you so of course I'm not jumping to conclusions. Everyone needs a place to process their feelings and reactions. But this is not an appropriate place for it.

This is the second time and really it's embarrassing for you and ridiculous for everyone reading this blog.

OP I genuinely apologize and I'm sorry you had to be the quote unquote Learning Moment for me to put a stop to this in the first place. I'm sorry you have to explain personal shit in public like it's a really lousy version of Judge Judy Kin Edition.

Connie / mod party cat

ps if anyone is familiar with the situation, please keep it to yourself. There's enough personal stuff being aired out, nobody needs to know blog urls and IDing info. Thank you.

[ask-the-crimson-king]

More Stuff from Betrayer

[While on the topic, I want to show the various humans out there a very interesting scene out of Betrayer.

Two, technically, but one that's a bit longer than the other. Image IDs will be provided at the end of the post, cause there's going to be a LOT.

Some interesting insights into how Lorgar views Chaos and a bit about the Emperor as well. I always find this scene to be fascinating, especially since he's borrowed the astropathic choir of the Conquerer to listen to worlds dying across Ultramar while he muses on this.

And then there's when Angron walks up.

Some interesting, albeit a bit morbid, banter between brothers. I do like how Angron even greets Lorgar on the way in, and Lorgar is just standing there stunned. The insights into how Angron views the Devourers is also neat, and it is to be expected at this point. Lorgar trying to argue for them and trying to get Angron to stop ignoring them outright is another neat touch.

The two begin talking of Ultramar, and Lorgar reveals that Nuceria is going to be the capstone for his ritual. Angron asks why, and the following is said:

I like this passage for a few reasons. Firstly, how Angron "dreams" has always been something of interest to me. Because I doubt he ever really gets much rest and respite. Here we get some insight into this, although this also was already expressed a bit earlier. This passage also leads into Angron's recollection of the Night of the Wolf, but I wanted to focus on this.

Lorgar and Angron's "bond" is something that's always intrigued me. It definitely feels more one-sided, with Lorgar seeking for brotherhood that isn't really there, but there are a few moments to make it feel a bit more genuine. However, there is still something missing from these interactions. I can't really describe it other than a barrier between two primarchs who will never see eye-to-eye. Lorgar does, to his credit, try to be understanding and patient throughout, but I can also definitely feel his annoyance coming through at certain places.

In a way, I can almost feel a similar sort of vibe to how Magnus interacts with some of his brothers. Namely with Perturabo in one of the opening chapters of his primarch novel. However, the bond between those two is still very different from the one Angron has with Lorgar; those two actually do have a deep connection, while these two don't. There's a misunderstanding and underestimation coming from both sides in certain aspects; Lorgar in almost sounding condescending to Angron, and Angron still thinking Lorgar a weakling.

TL;DR, Betrayer good.

Image IDs below the cut:

Image ID 1 & 2: A scene from Betrayer where Lorgar is standing and listening to worlds burn. It reads:

Serving as conductor for an astrological orchestra was more taxing than he’d dreamed, though his blunter, more militant brothers would struggle to grasp the finer points of his efforts. Exhaustion left him wondering, even if only briefly, whether absolute peace would create a stellar song as divinely inspired as absolute war. Fate had played its hand and Chaos was destined to swallow all creation whether or not Horus and Lorgar raged against the Imperial war machine, but if what if they’d stayed loyal to the Emperor? What then? Would the Great Crusade have shaped a serene funeral dirge, to play behind the veil as humanity died in a defenceless harrowing?

Therein lay the fatal flaw. The Emperor’s way was compliance, not peace. The two were as repellent to one another as opposing lodestones. It didn’t matter what enlightenment the Imperium stamped out in its conquering crusade when obedience was all its lords desired. It didn’t matter what wars were fought from now into eternity. The Legiones Astartes would always march, for they were born to do so. There would always be war; even if the Great Crusade had been allowed to reach the galaxy’s every edge, there would never be peace. Discontent would seethe. Populations would rebel. Worlds would rise up. Human nature eventually sent men and women questing for the truth, and tyrants always fell to the truth.

No peace. Only war.

Lorgar felt his blood run cold. Only war. Those were words to echo into eternity.

He didn’t trust the Ten Thousand Futures the way Erebus claimed to. Too many possibilities forked from every decision made by every living thing. What use was prophecy when all it offered was what might happen? Lorgar was not so devoid of imagination that he needed the warp’s twisting guesswork to show him that. Anyone with an iota of vision could imagine what might happen. Genius lay in engineering events according to one’s own goals, not in blindly heeding the laughter of mad gods.

More than that, Lorgar sought to keep one thing in mind above all else. The gods were powerful, without doubt, but they were fickle beings. Each worked against its own kin more often than not, spilling conflicting prophecies into their prophets’ minds. Perhaps they weren’t even sentient in the way a mortal mind could encompass. They seemed as much the manifestations of primal emotion as they did individual essences.

But no, there was a wide gulf between hearing them and heeding them. Gods lied, just like men. Gods deceived and clashed and sought to advance their own dominions over their rivals’. Lorgar trusted none of their prophecies.

Image ID 3-5: A series of screenshots from Betrayer. Angron comes into the scene. It reads:

Angron entered the basilica, armoured in his usual stylised bronze and ceramite and with two oversized chainswords strapped to his back. He even wasted time with a greeting, raising his hand in the first time Lorgar could ever remember such a gesture from his broken brother. The Word Bearer tried not to let his amazement show at his brother’s new consideration.

‘Lotara says you stole her astropathic choir.’ Angron’s lipless smile was a ghastly thing indeed. ‘I see that she may have been correct.’

‘Stole is a strong word. “Appropriated” seems much less ignoble.’ Lorgar spared a glance for the skies above the cathedral, as the Lex ripped onwards towards Nuceria.

‘What do you need them for?’ Angron asked. His wounds from being buried alive had already faded to scrunched scar tissue pebbling his flesh, just another host of scarring to overlay the last.

The Devourers lurked behind him, stomping into the cathedral without the primarch sparing them a glance. To be one of Angron’s bodyguards was no honour, despite how fiercely the World Eaters’ champions had fought for it in the first, optimistic years. Angron ignored them no matter where they went, never once fighting alongside them in battle. In their Terminator plate, they’d never managed to keep up with their liege lord, and they were as prone to losing control as any other World Eater, meaning any hope of them fighting as an organised pack was a forlorn one at best.

Lorgar watched the Devourers – those warriors who’d spent a century learning to swallow their pride and pretend they weren’t ignored – speaking amongst themselves at the basilica’s entrance.

‘Hail,’ he greeted them. They seemed uneasy at being addressed, offering hesitant and wordless bows.

Angron snorted at his brother acknowledging them. ‘Bodyguards,’ he said. ‘Even their name annoys me. “Devourers”, as if I’d named them myself – as if they were the Legion’s finest.’

‘Their intentions are pure,’ Lorgar pointed out. ‘They seek to honour you. It’s not their fault you leave them behind in every battle.’

‘They’re not even the Legion’s fiercest fighters, any more. That rogue Delvarus refuses to challenge for a place in their ranks. Khârn laughed when I asked him if he’d ever considered it. And do you know Bloodspitter?’

‘I know Bloodspitter,’ Lorgar replied. Everyone knew Bloodspitter.

‘He beat one of them in the pits, and carved his name into the poor bastard’s armour with a combat knife.’

Lorgar forced a smile. ‘Yes. Delightful.’

Angron’s face wrenched again, at the mercy of misfiring muscles. ‘What primarch ever needed guarding by lesser men?’

‘Ferrus,’ Lorgar said softly. ‘Vulkan.’

Angron laughed, the sound rich and true, yet harsh as a bitter wind. ‘It’s good to hear you joke about those weaklings. I was getting bored of you mourning them.’

It was no joke, but Lorgar had no desire to shatter his brother’s fragile good humour. ‘I only mourn the dead,’ Lorgar conceded. ‘I don’t mourn Vulkan.’

‘He’s as good as dead.’ The World Eater smiled again. ‘I’m sure he wishes he were. Now, what are you doing with Lotara’s choir?’

‘Listening to them sing of other worlds and other wars.’

Angron stared, unimpressed. ‘Specifics,’ he said, ‘while I have the patience to hear such details.’

‘Just listen,’ Lorgar replied.

Angron did as he was bid. After a minute or more had passed, he nodded once. ‘You’re listening to the Five Hundred Worlds burning.’

‘Something like that. These are the voices of the freshly dead, and those soon to join them. The mortis-moments of random souls, elsewhere in Ultramar, as our fleets ravage their worlds.’

‘Morbid, priest. Even for you.’

‘We’re inflicting this destruction on them. We mustn’t consider ourselves distant from it. It may not be our hands holding the bolters and blades, but we are still the architects of this annihilation. It’s our place to listen to it, to remember the martyred dead, and to meditate on all we’ve wrought.’

‘I wish you well with it,’ said Angron. ‘But why steal Lotara��s choir? What happened to yours?’

‘They died.’

It was Angron’s turn to be surprised. ‘How did they die?’

‘Screaming.’ Lorgar showed no emotion at all. ‘What brings you here, brother?’

Image ID 6 & 7: Two screenshots from later in the previous scene, when Angron asks 'Why Nuceria?'. It reads:

‘The metaphysics are complicated,’ said Lorgar.

That had Angron growling. ‘I may not have wasted days in debate with you and Magnus inside our father’s Palace, but the Nails haven’t left me an absolute fool. I asked the question, Lorgar. You answer it. And do so without lying, if you can manage such a feat.’

The Word Bearer met his brother’s eyes, and the rarely-seen palette of emotions within their depths. Pain was there in abundance, but so was the frustration of living with a misfiring mind, and the savagery that transcended anger itself. Angron was a creature that had come to make his hatred a blade to be used in battle. He’d weaponised his own emotions, where most living beings were slaves to theirs. Lorgar couldn’t help but admire the strength in that.

‘We’re going to Nuceria,’ he said, ‘because of you. Because of the Nails.’

Angron stared, and his silence beckoned for his brother to continue.

‘They’re killing you,’ Lorgar admitted. ‘Faster than I thought. Faster than anyone realised. The rate of degeneration has accelerated even in the last few months. Your implants were never designed for a primarch’s brain matter. Your physiology is trying to heal the damage as the Nails bite deeper, but it’s a game of pushing and pulling, with both sides evenly matched.’

Angron took this with an impassive shrug. ‘Guesswork.’

‘I can see souls and hear the music of creation,’ Lorgar smiled. ‘In comparison, this is nothing. The Twelfth Legion’s archives are comprehensive enough, you know. Your behaviour tells the rest of the tale, along with the pain I sense radiating from you each and every time we meet. Your entire brain is remapped and rewired, slaved to the implants’ impulses. Tell me, when was the last time you dreamed?’

‘I don’t dream.’ The answer was immediate, almost fiercely fast. ‘I’ve never dreamed.’

Lorgar’s gentle eyes caught the warp’s kaleidoscopic light as he tilted his head. ‘Now you’re lying, brother.’

‘It’s no lie.’ Angron’s thick fingers twitched and curled, closing around the ghosts of weapons. ‘The Nails scarcely let me sleep. How would I dream?’

Lorgar didn’t miss the rising tension in his brother’s body language – the veins in his temples rising from scarred skin, the feral hunch of the shoulders, no different from a hunting cat drawing into a crouch before it struck.

‘You once told me the Nails stole your slumber,’ Lorgar conceded, ‘but you also said they let you dream.’

Angron took a step closer. He started to say ‘I meant…’ but Lorgar’s earthy glare stopped him cold.

‘They give you a serenity and peace you can find nowhere else. Humans, legionaries, primarchs… everything alive must sleep, must rest, must allow its brain a period of respite. The remapping of your mind denies you this. You don’t dream with your eyes closed. You dream with your eyes open, chasing the rush of whatever peace the Nails can give you.’ Lorgar met Angron’s eyes again. ‘Don’t insult us both by denying it. You slaver and murmur when you kill, mumbling about chasing serenity and how close it feels. I’ve heard you. I’ve looked into your heart and soul when you’re lost to the Nails. Your sons, with their crude copies of your implants, have their minds rewritten to feel joy only in adrenaline’s kiss. Those lesser implants cause pain because they scrape the nerves raw, thus your World Eaters kill because it gladdens their reforged hearts, and ceases the pain knifing into their muscles. Your Butcher’s Nails are a more sinister and predatory design, ruining all cognition, stealing any peace. They are killing you, gladiator. And you ask why I’m taking you back to Nuceria? Is it not obvious?’

End Image ID.]