#i think if we really want to go all memory is the monster la la la

[uozlulu]

Watching Daniel and Louis joining their brain cells together in the rock garden to figure things out like "Oh just wait until you two find out about like the entire decade or so you're both actually missing."

[doctorsiren]

Finally some Silly Little Monster AU designs! Here we have Thalassa, Lamiroir, Jove, and Zak

Thalassa is the name of one of those ancient primordial Greek gods, and she was the personification of the ocean. This goes along with Lamiroir being the “siren”. Since her kids are an angel and a demon, I thought going the goddess route would work since they aren’t hybrids and I can do what I want with my lore :3

As I was drawing up the design, I realized that what I was wanting was literally just Sea Fairy Cookie from Cookie Run, so I went with it. The goddess Thalassa has horns made of crab arms, so I gave this Thalassa some horns as well. Her hair and dress are always flowing like water.

Next we have Lamiroir. Since her design with the cloak is more based around constellations, I went the space route. I decided it worked since the moon controls the tide anyways, so there’s already a connection between the sea and the sky. When she lost her memory in The Incident, it caused her form to change, resulting in what we have here. It’s essentially a cracked gem Lapis situation, which is what I based her design off of. I thought the mirror eyes was perfect, and that actually makes her (la)Mirror Gem and makes Thalassa the Ocean Gem. I’ve always associated her with Blue Diamond anyways, so it works! Also I was just a big fan of both design concepts, so I did both.

Then we have Jove, who is a demon like his son. Apollo’s hair horns translated into his demon horns in his design, but Jove’s hair goes down, so I opted to give him both his hair horns and regular demon horns. I also decided to have one of his horns be broken just to spice up the design a little.

Finally, we have Zak. He’s an angel like his daughter. I started off the design wanting him to have silly little tiny wings, but as I drew, I couldn’t decide if I wanted that or if I wanted him to have big giant wings. The discord decided that small wings were funnier and so I went with those. His design didn’t change much, save for the halo hat, his ears, the wings, and the silly sparkles. Also, I believe that he wasn’t bald on the top before the 7yg lmao so yeah 😁

Thalassa’s husbands were both really warm toned while she was all blue and watery, which I think worked out.

[crazykuroneko]

Saw this old article (early last year) getting shared again on Twitter. There are some parts I didn't remember reading, so I'm sharing it here

(All automatically translated by Google Translate)

Alternative translation by Deepl:

Hovering over the story of the relationship between Louis and Lestat is a question that, for whoever created the series, is the real central theme and was always what interested him most about the script. "For me, the most interesting thing is the memory. There are a few little moments in episode three where he wonders if it was raining or not raining. That's really the most important thing that happens in the first season in terms of where we're going to go in the second season," he analyzes. One of the resources to explore the concept of memory is, as he adds, to put a good journalist in the room to ask questions and even push the interviewee to go "deeper into their memories to see how fragile and malleable they are". Objectivity, when someone tells the story of their own life, is not always present, even if they are not aware of it.

"I think these things are really hard, in the series we address issues of race, queer and other things that are really important," Jones continues, "but the series talks about the act of telling my life story and how hard it is. Because it affects more people beyond oneself, because it involves "strange decisions" made over time and even manipulations because you can't "face the trauma or because you want to think better of yourself". In this sense, adds the creator of 'Interview with the Vampire', "there is a significant little line in episode two, when Molloy says that memory is a monster. I think this is the biggest monster in this series, memory".

[dankdungeonsrpg]

Dungeon Meshi Devblog 1

The Challenge!

Recently…

Mirke the Meek, amateur podcaster and really nice guy decided to make a podcast about Delicious in Dungeon, the netflix series from Studio Trigger (Gurren Lagann, Kill la Kill). This anime, like many, is based on a wildly successful manga, which Mirke is also into.

He called his project Euphonious in Dungeon and it exists primarily as a call-in show where listeners can share their thoughts on the anime, one episode at a time.

It’s wonderfully short form, like Mirke’s primary self-titled podcast, and features some delightful cooking folly from Mirke’s own kitchen.

Now, while I’m happy to jaw about any show I enjoy, Euphonious requests we focus on the gameable aspects of the series.

Ah, I forgot to mention. Mirke comes out of an excellent community of podcasters producing TTRPG related content. I’ll probably mention them more later but such members include: FreeThrall of Keep Off The Borderlands, Jason of Nerds RPG Variety Cast, Joe of Hindsightless, and Daniel of Bandit’s Keep. (plus many more!)

Central to this community is that they are all in conversation with each other. Allowing the listener to piece together a greater narrative the more shows they consume.

While Mirke is perhaps the most junior member of the group, he should not be overlooked.

Now, to the Gameable Aspects

Some may know that my first best selling title was Joy of Monster Cooking over on the Dungeon Master’s Guild. So eating monsters is hardly a new concept to me. However, in the past I have always considered: “how can I add a monster eating mechanic?” whereas now I consider “how can I build a game about monster eating?”

The differences, I believe, are quite extreme.

Have you (the reader) read Into the Odd? Or Knave? Or Maze Rats? Or Cairn?

One thing these games have in common is that inventory defines character abilities.

You wanna be a fighter? Better get a big sword. You wanna be a wizard? Better stock up on spellbooks.

With this in mind I thought…”what if we had a game in which diet defined character abilities?”

You wanna be a fighter? Better eat a lot of protein. You wanna be a wizard? Better eat foods high in vitamin B12 (yes I had to look up the memory vitamin).

Could I go on? Yes.

Will I? No.

I want to string these into a series of blog posts so next time we’re going to talk about character stats and charts! (wowee)

P.S. I have no doubt others have tried to do this exact design exercise. I would like (for now) to pretend that is not the case. Once I have a system *then* I intend to look over other’s work to compare and contrast. I think this is a useful method when entering your first round of major edits.

[themadsquirrel09]

Chosen one

Fandom ☆ South Park 

Ship ☆ Creek (Craig TuckerxTweek Tweak)

Characters ☆ Craig Tucker, Tweek Tweak, Guinea Pirate

Rating ☆ K+

Warnings ☆ None.

Summary ☆ Craig has to save the word (again), when he would have rather just walked away.

About it ☆ I wanted to write something special for this ship, exploring their dynamic in a way I usually don’t see portrayed. It is basically care, drama and fluff. They are 27 here.

☆ Words 1030 ☆

With love: (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ Stan

“A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it.” 

— Jean de La Fontaine 

My name is Craig and I am 27 years old. When I was 10, I found out I was the chosen one to save the world from the giant guinea pig invasion: I did, even if not on purpose. The leader, the Guinea Pirate, escaped and, after all this time, he is back for revenge. 

Am I really the only one who can stop him? 

I never wanted this. 

All I wanted was to go on vacation with Tweek and have a good time together. So how is it that I find myself in the middle of the Peruvian jungle, again? I try to walk away, just to end up inside that cave, facing the hieroglyphics that somehow have changed. 

“Craig, that’s you!” Tweek exclaims, as he pulls his clothes nervously.

“Yes, honey. That’s me.”

“So this happened to you when you were 10? This is insane!” He pulls his hair now.

“Yes, I know. I think it is useless, but how about we bail from all this?” He considers it.

“Well, we were supposed to be celebrating our anniversary. Let 's do it.” He smiles at me reassuringly and I grab his hand. 

“Ok. I think we went this way all those years ago. Let’s take the opposite road.”

We do and, by being there, I get memories of how it felt when I was a kid; I just wanted out. It is nicer now. Maybe the years made me care less, but I think it is mostly because Tweek is here with me. 

This was supposed to be our anniversary vacation. We weren't coming to Peru, we were going to Bali, to get away from it all just for a couple of weeks. When we ended up on the wrong flight, I got the feeling that something I didn’t like was happening. 

We decided to enjoy this place because we don’t have that much free time, went on a nature walk and somehow got separated from the group. I know by now I can’t control it: neither this prophecy, nor the power hidden in me. I squeeze Tweek’s hand.

After a couple of hours, we stop, Tweek takes out the portable coffee maker and gets it to work; then he walks towards me and puts his hands on my shoulders.

“What?” 

“You have to relax.” He chuckles a bit. “Sorry, it is weird that I am the one saying it, but this isn’t easy for you, is it?” I swallow hard.

“How do you do it? Relaxing.” 

“I just try to breathe deep and picture myself in a happy place. Maybe surrounded by a bunch of Stripes?” I try it and as I do, I drowse. “Does this feel good?” He massages my shoulders a bit. 

“Yes. Thank you, honey.”

After that, we keep going for a couple of hours. Suddenly, something doesn't feel right, I stop, pulling Tweek. We look at each other in some sort of instinctive panic, a low roar is heard and the ground bursts open. We try to hold onto each other, but the Guinea Pirate emerges, taking Tweek in his teeth.

“Tweek!”

“Craig.” Announces the creature. “You can’t stop me this time.”

“I won’t. I don’t want to.” I raise my hands in a defensive motion. “I promise I will just go away if you let Tweek go now.”

“You are trying to trick me, Craig, but it won’t work like the last time.” I find myself out of words, but Tweek screams and hits the monster in the nose. He is released and falls to the ground, making a pained noise. 

“Honey!” I get close and when I do, I accidentally step on one of those sacred platforms. “Oh no. It is happening again.” The power that hides in me is released as sparks shooting out of my eyes, hitting the Guinea Pirate until it is defeated.

A SWAT team shows up with tanks and helicopters.

“Take him down before he escapes!” I look around and hear Tweek exclaim: 

“Don’t worry, I’m ok!” I sigh out of relief and tiresome. I wait until it all ends and I can step off the platform. I don’t feel so good. 

“You didn’t hurt yourself, right?” He shakes his head. “Good.” I help him up.

“How about you? Are you ok?”

“I’m…” I don’t have an answer. 

“Craig?” He asks, but a member of the SWAT team intervenes and I let Tweek handle that. Meanwhile, I go to a nearby grass and lay down, then close my eyes. After a while, I hear near steps.

“Hey, it seems like we are close to a hotel,” Says Tweek. "We should—” He gasps, cutting his own phrase to exclaim. “Oh my god, you are crying! I thought you didn’t get hurt!”

“I didn't. I just,” I can’t really talk much. “I’m ok,” I get to see how he looks at me, like he doesn’t believe me. “I will be fine.” But the tears keep rolling down my expressionless face, so I just shut my eyes and let it happen. 

Tweek gets close, his movements slower than usual. I feel him sit by my side. Then he lays down too and reaches for my hand, I take it. We stay like that for a while, until I start feeling better. 

“I’m sorry.”

“It is not your fault, honey.”

“I know. But I’m sorry this happened. Again.” I look around, it seems like the SWAT team is gone with their prisoner and Tweek said there’s a hotel close by.

This is actually nice: just the two of us, in the middle of nowhere. 

“I guess it is not that bad. I’m doing what I wanted right now.” Maybe I’ll keep coming back to this place and situation, whether I want it or not, but at least now I get to do it by Tweek’s side. 

“Really, are you happy with this?” I look at his worried face and sit up just to lean and kiss him.

“Now I am. I’m soo happy.” And for that reason, I kiss him again.

────── ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ──────

The end. 

────── ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ──────

Final notes 🍯

This one really makes me emotional 😅 I hope you enjoyed the read! Special thanks to the ones who voted on the poll 🌠

Fun facts:

🥠 The quote for the epigraph is also included in Kung Fu Panda.

🪐 I headcanon that Super Craig’s suit is so lazy because he knows he is a hero with no mask. 

All kinds of support are really appreciated! ♡ 

I just opened writing commissions! Click to find the details.

Here you have the info for drawing commission 🎨

[neroli9]

APJFM Truth Or Dare!

I meant to post this at New Year’s. Alas, I didn’t finish it until now! So pretend we’re still in that happy time when Reader and Sans are still together...

Sans looks around at the assembled group: Reader, Sasha, Asriel, Frisk and Jerren. Then he looks back at Sasha. “i thought you said you were gonna be, and i quote, ‘as far away from you two horndogs as i can possibly get.’”

“We just got four questions that my sister said we couldn’t use if I was around,” she says, shrugging. “So my eyes are safe.”

“what, seriously?” Sans turns towards the fourth wall, rapping it with his knuckles. “i was counting on you people for some sexy fun! instead you send in shit like —“ He takes one of the four discarded questions, written out on a slip of paper, and presses it up to the wall. It reads ‘turn your junk into a magical teacup.’ He jabs his finger at it angrily, then flips off the wall.

“You and I already had a hot game of Truth or Dare," Reader reminds him. “You'll survive a PG-13 one.” She takes one of the slips of paper. “Sasha, truth or dare?”

“Dare!” she says, grinning.

Reader unfolds the paper. “Uh. You’re supposed to rob a bank."

“Heck yeah! Stepstool Man, take us to a bank,” she orders, gesturing to Asriel and Frisk.

Sans glances at Reader, who shrugs. “what else am i doing with my life,” he mutters. Then he and the three teenagers disappear.

“Are we getting the sexy ones done now?” Jerren asks.

“They were all for Sans,” says Reader with a shrug.

“No one wanted to see my drag act?"

“No one knew you had a drag act until chapter 85.”

Sans, Reader, Frisk and Asriel return with six bags of money. Sasha opens up one of the two that she’s carrying and starts dumping the money out on the floor. “It’s pretty nice to have a lackey that can take us right to the bank vault!”

“And create light for us,” Frisk adds.

“And get us out before we run out of oxygen,” Asriel chimes in.  

Reader raises an eyebrow at her sister. “So it sounds like you didn’t really do anything.”

“I used my powers of persuasion and excellent people skills,” Sasha says with wounded dignity. “Who’s next?”

Reader picks out another piece of paper. “Sans, truth or dare?"

“dare.”

She unfolds the paper. “Show off the socks you’re wearing.”

Sans shrugs and kicks off his shoes. He’s wearing plain black suit socks, but he poses his feet as if he’s modeling. “gorgeous, right?”

Everyone stares at his feet. “Isn’t that scandalous or something?” Sasha asks. “For monsters, I mean.”

“Not exactly,” Asriel says. “It depends on the context.”

“I don’t think anyone’s getting turned on by those,” Frisk notes dispassionately. “Now, if they were leopard print or something, that’d be scandalous.”

“You hear that? Stop going all gooey over his boring black socks,” Sasha says to her sister, elbowing her.

“I am not going all gooey," Reader says with a failed attempt at dignity. Sans grins as he swings his feet over to her lap. She gives them an affectionate pat. “Well, maybe a little gooey.”

“Did anyone dare one of us to jab out their own eyeballs with a hatpin? Because I’ll take that one,” Sasha says, reaching for the slips of paper.

“You already went,” Asriel reminds her. “My turn! Give me truth.”

Reader pulls out one of the slips of paper. “What is your most mortifying memory?”

Asriel and Frisk glance at each other. “Uhhh. Can I switch to dare?”

“That bad?” Reader asks. “I don’t mind if you switch, but…”

“Definitely switch,” Asriel says.

“Fine, then. ‘Impersonate someone in this room for 20 seconds.’”

Asriel looks at Sans, and Sans smacks his forehead. Asriel smacks his forehead, too. “don’t try to impersonate me, kiddo,” he says in a gruff voice. “ya really gotta BELIEVE nothing matters to get me right. you’re not jaded enough yet.” He shrugs, his hands out to the sides in a comically helpless pose.

“cripes,” Sans grumbles, wincing. But everyone else is laughing uproariously, even Reader.

“frisk, truth or dare? not that it matters,” Asriel continues.

“Dare,” Frisk answers, laughing.

Reader fishes out a piece of paper and reads it. “Perform the most advanced dance and/or gymnastic move you know.”

“Easy,” Frisk says. They launch themselves into a perfect cartwheel, hopping back to their feet and taking a bow to applause from the group.

“That was great!” Reader says, beaming. “Jerren, you’re up."

“Truth,” he says with a superior grin. “I seem to be the only one willing to tell it.”

Reader picks out another slip of paper and unfolds it. “Jerren, why are you a bitch?”

His grin turns to a scowl as the rest of the room laughs at him. “That’s not even a proper question,” he protests. “That’s just someone being a little troll.”

“So you’re not going to answer?"

“I’ll answer a real question,” he says with wounded dignity.

“All right, all right.” Reader picks out another one. “What’s the cringiest thing you’ve done in any timeline? I --“

But Jerren interrupts her before she can finish the question. “You would have loved the timeline where I was a fashion designer,” he says with relish. “I took it in my head that I needed to do something truly avant garde! I needed to shake up the world of New Ebott fashion and show them something no one had ever seen before! I was going to hang out with all the fashionistas and trendsetters, and they would all be amazed by me!” He sighs. “They fawned over my designs so much that I started to feel disdainful of them. I kept pushing the envelope, wondering how far I could go. I kept hoping someone would realize it was all a big joke on them, that all I was doing was shitting out ugly designs and they were acting like I was a genius. Finally, I recreated the Emperor’s New Clothes, just to see if I could really get away with it. I made a big show of tailoring a whole collection with this special new material I’d designed. The rarest, most refined fabric that only the most elite names in fashion could possibly appreciate properly. I sent out model after model on the runway, stark naked, as the biggest names in fashion oohed and aahed. Finally, I strode out onto the runway myself, clad in what I deemed my finest creation. I struck a pose as they applauded.” He jumps to his feet and mimics a model’s pose. "Then I mooned them and called them a pack of bloody idiots. It was hilarious.”

There’s silence.

“That does sound hilarious,” Reader says tentatively. “But that wasn’t the end of the question. ‘I give Chara use of a felt puppet to speak on Jerrens behalf because I know for a fact that he has no honesty left in his soul.’”

“No, no, we’re done, I answered the question," Jerren says irritably. "It's your turn.”

He tries to sit back down, but Chara's already there, looking smug. “Definitely when Ceridwen died,” they say.

Jerren’s expression is murderous. “Don’t you dare —"

“Not the first time. I think it was the sixth time, when you’d tried a bunch of different ways to save her. Do you remember that?”

Jerren tries to put his hand over Chara’s mouth, but it goes right through their face. Chara continues, unfazed. “He ran all through the hospital yelling, ‘I wish you all were dead! I’d kill you all myself if it’d save her! I’d kill you all with my bare hands!’”

“Enough!” Jerren yells. “Shut your goddamn mouth!”

“I realized he was running towards the maternity ward, and I was like, wow, you’re not really gonna do this, are you? But he opens the door and shouts “None of you little pieces of shit are EVER gonna be HALF the person she was! None of you PUT TOGETHER!”

Everyone in the room is cringing now, except Sans who’s grinning from ear hole to ear hole. “you were grieving so hard you cussed out a room full of babies?”

Jerren picks up the chair and slams it against the wall. The back and one of the legs cracks off, and it falls to the ground in a heap. Chara is still standing there, grinning insolently —

Reader picks out another slip of paper and unfolds it. “Jerren, why are you a bitch?”

His jaw seems tense, but he smooths it out into a smile. “Because I dare to do what most would never consider,” he answers with a faint air of superiority. “It’s no surprise I’m resented for that. But the best most people can do is fling pathetic, anonymous insults at me.”

“that’s seriously your answer?” Sans says sourly.

“Take it or leave it,” Jerren answers, still wearing that supercilious smile. “Your turn, my dear.”

“I’ll do truth, too,” Reader says, picking out a slip of paper. “’What’s the most intriguing thing about Sans? Body, personality, whatever.’ Hmmm…” She looks at Sans, putting her hand to her lips. “I’m always trying to figure him out. The scary, intense Sans is no more the true Sans than the laid-back, fun-loving Sans. Same for the Sans who knows everything, and the Sans who’s a complete mess. He’s changed a lot since I first knew him, and… I wonder how he’s going to end up.”

“He’s going to fail,” Jerren says shortly, getting to his feet. “It’s going to be embarrassing and painful, and in the end none of it will matter anyway. If you’ll excuse me…” He nods to the group, then makes a quick exit.

“I’ve got to get to work,” Frisk mumbles.

“Undyne’s probably looking for me,” Asriel says, just as unconvincingly.

“I said I’d help Myrdi do some filing,” Reader adds.

The three of them follow Jerren out the door, leaving Sans and Sasha.

Sasha turns to Sans with a gleam in her eye. “Boy, do I have some intel for you.”

[trashyinfernomusic]

WIP Wednesday

Did someone say PJO/9-1-1 AU? I think someone said that... --------

Eddie’s shoulders tense when he catches Buck’s eye, but he doesn’t say anything. In fact, he doesn’t acknowledge Buck at all, even when Buck steps into the room to change for their shift. “I’m telling you, man, you’re super photogenic,” Eddie remarks loudly. “I bet if you showed Hen, she’d agree with me.”

Chimney hums tunelessly. “You think?” he asks, tapping at the laptop in his hands with his fingers.

“Definitely. I think she’s here already – Cap brought in donuts from some shop near his house, so she’s upstairs taking first crack at them.”

Chimney grins delightedly at the mention of donuts. “Oh, I love it when he brings donuts.” He looks at Buck and winks. “We used to get them from the Monster Donut a few blocks away, but both Cap and Buck aren’t huge fans of the place.”

Buck shifts uncomfortably at the reminder of how close the monster-run chain is to their location. “Cap says they over fry their dough,” he says quickly, “and I had a bad experience with their customer service when I was in New York.”

“Bad experience” really means almost got eaten by a hydra and “when I was in New York” translates to when I was fighting a war that decided the fate of the world while every mortal in the tristate area was asleep, but Buck doesn’t mention those parts of the story.

Eddie nods slowly. “And an experience in New York would absolutely translate to an LA branch.” Buck does not appreciate the dry sarcasm.

“Yeah, well you don’t know Monster Donut,” Buck mutters, pulling his work boots from his duffel bag. He’d thought about changing at home this morning, but his boots are loud. He hadn’t wanted to disturb Maddie.

Unfortunately, that gives Eddie the chance to look into his duffel. “Is that a sword?” he asks incredulously.

Buck blinks. Well, shit. “No,” he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “It’s a pen.” It’s a knife, actually. More specifically, it’s the knife he keeps in his boot just in case he comes across something on a call that he really doesn’t want to deal with – which has happened a couple of times.

He shudders at the memory of the angry ocean spirits that had nearly killed Bobby at the plane crash. He remembers their long, clawed hands wrapped tightly around Bobby’s legs as they pulled him down, down, down into the depths as retribution for pollution that hadn’t been his fault.

He remembers the flash of bronze in the murky haze and the feeling of cool hands tugging harshly at his legs.

Chimney pushes past both of them to peer into Buck’s bag. “Dude, it’s just a Swiss Army knife,” he says between smacks of gum in his mouth. “Some firefighters carry them in case of emergency. It’s just a personal thing.” He pats Buck on the back. “Besides, swords are for LARPers. Not really Buckaroo’s scene.”

He chuckles to himself and walks out the room with a wave, leaving Buck and Eddie to themselves.

“But,” Eddie mutters, “that’s not a Swiss Army knife.”

Buck slams his locker closed, taking great pains to ensure that Eddie can’t see his combination and go snooping further. “Maybe you should get your eyes checked,” Buck replies darkly. “Those iPhone filters don’t seem to be doing you much good.”

He stalks out of the room and lets the door slam behind him.

At least he was right about Chimney; he doesn’t have the sight.

It’s a small comfort.

[latinopercy]

hi!!! i just finished episode 3 of monster donut and i have a few thoughts/questions (i wrote this all out and then got distracted and accidentally closed the page, so I’m gonna do my best to rewrite it from memory):

1) thalia’s faith in her father vs luke’s lack of faith in his father is mentioned, and how signs from zeus are enough for thalia but luke wants more than a sign from hermes. do you think it’s possible that this is partly just because of their experiences with the gods so far / how the gods have influenced their lives thus far? bc luke’s life was heavily influenced by the gods bc of his mom’s curse. on the other hand, we don’t really know if thalia’s life has been influenced by the gods so far (aside from learning in HoO that her mom traded jason’s life away to a goddess, though I wonder if she blames her mom for that more than the gods), since she believes zeus helped her meet luke and so far that’s been a good thing

2) i think the question of how long luke kept the diary is really interesting. at one point it was mentioned that maybe he kept the diary for as long as he still believed he could change fate, so i wonder if maybe he kept it until thalia’s death. but also, the idea that he kept it up until right before he left CHB is sooo intriguing, especially with the idea y’all mentioned of him intentionally leaving the diary in the hermes cabin for someone like him to find

anyway yeah those are my thoughts, i might have missed something i wrote in the original message but c’est la vie ig

THANK YOU FOR THESE

1) yes!! i think that's absolutely part of it. emily actually mentioned something like this outside the podcast but neither of us could fully remember how often zeus was supposedly around in thalia's life before she ran so we figured we'd talk about it when it comes up in the reread, but my thought right now before rereading is yes, i think thalia probably blames her mom more for sacrificing jason than she blames the gods and being raised in an environment where zeus is in and out of her life and her mother is constantly searching for signs from zeus could easily have rubbed off on her, while luke is only living with the consequences of hermes' actions and so has never had any reason to yearn for more of his influence in his life. we'll see if that changes once we actually get to thalia & jason's backstory though

2) ok this is where emily's and my thought differs, because i actually think these ideas can co-exist. i don't think luke gave up on the idea he could change fate when he saw thalia turn into a tree, i think he blamed the gods/fates for it but believes his choices can still change the trajectory of his life even after he leaves camp. in this scenario, leaving the diary behind was a strategic decision rather than a declaration of his loss of faith in his ability to change fate though (HOWEVER in a way this version IS giving into fate bc he knows the diary is meant to help him work his way through a world-changing choice and likely feels he's made it when he leaves camp, though considering the choice is to challenge the gods idk if he wants to think of it that way). or maybe he kept it up through botl. though i think he probably feels fate bearing down on him around ttc/botl and starts to give up that hope that he has any choice in any of this.... actually i think we just need a full version of luke's diary with handwritten notes and doodles and interludes where annabeth found it while they were on the run and made a little page for herself and also torn out pages and scratched out paragraphs that make you go Hm.

[eric-the-bmo]

It appers you are a lost and Dreaming Fan What do you think of the rest of the World of darkness and Chronicles of darkness catalog?

AAa sorry, i just now saw this!!! this might be incoherent, here we go:

Changeling the Dreaming is the first WoD game I'm getting into, so I know the most about that one! It's the forgotten middle child of WoD games, and oh my god? the lore is so cool (I'm so fascinated by Dauntain and Bedlam). I like Vampire, since it was the Gateway to me discovering these games (thank you LA By Night), so i know a bit about VtM? But not all of it. I've got a character concept just in case I ever get to play. I know there's a Hunter and Werewolf game- those seem a bit interesting, and I've considered looking into them to make characters for fun (in fact, I plan for my Hunter character to be my Vampire's sibling). However, I know very little about both- also Mage. I dont know about that one either. And I know there's other games? Like with ghosts and demons. I'm not very interested in those guys, to be honest- ghosts seem a bit? boring?? and since the first Demon game i checked out was Descent, i was a bit disappointed with Fallen. It seems like a typical "demons possessing people" kinda thing.

Speaking about Descent- I am ENAMORED with that setting! Religious imagery and robotic angels are some of the Best Things, I think, and the fact their false disguises become reality!! and they are now people, kinda? ugh i love it. I've got a character concept ready for this one, too.

My sister knows more about Lost than me, but I find CtL Fascinating when viewed through the lense of all of it being metaphors for varying trauma and how people deal with them (and in a sense, that IS the game, just filtered through 5 layers of fantasy).

I literally have Zero Knowledge about the other Chronicle games, so I can't really give my opinions on them.

However, I will take this opportunity to list off the Character Concepts i mentioned throughout this ask:

Leo West [Vampire the Masquerade]: The most-thought-about within this list, he used to be a librarian before he was Embraced and became a Malkavian. His backstory is vague, as I havent decided on what's true or not- but perhaps he was a ghoul for a short time, and the gaps in his memory caused him to try and figure out what was going on, leading him to become a conspiracy theorist who possibly broke the Masquerade (ik that seems like more of a Nosferatu thing to do, but maybe he was supposed to be one? who knows? certainly not me.) He ended up leaving in order to prevent his sister (his Touchstone) from getting involved/being in danger. He might also dissociate a lot, and was raised Christian (and maybe used to smoke weed???). Has a Contact named Richard "Compass" North, a young Ravnos he met on his travels.

Jericho/ Murmur [Demon the Descent]: A messenger angel! they Fell for unknown reasons, but ended up falling in love with all the music and parties that were to be found. They're a Vocaloid artist, and are generally just here to have fun- maybe to distract themself from all the religious guilt, and the fact they maybe lowkey want to Reintegrate.

Ginger [Werewolf the Apocalypse(?)]: I literally dont know anything about this one, I doodled a girl on a scrap of paper and decided she was a werewolf. that's it.

Amy West [Hunter the Reckoning]: Leo's younger sister! It's Undetermined if she knows what happened to her brother or not- does she know he's a vampire, or is she just trying to find him, and got tangled up with monster hunting? Amy's lore is More Vague than Leo's tbh, what's up with her. She goes by the nickname Dragonfly, and frequently gets phone calls from various unknown numbers- whoever's on the other end never says anything if she picks up; they just listen.

[dododan]

Forgotten Perseverance - Chapter 10

Masterpost

Prologue

Previous

It was possible to convince Katharina to go on another trip through the Underground. A group of friends is to go to the Dump. Will this place manage to erase the unpleasant memories of Doggo? Or will another unforeseen adventure await her there?

It's only been two days since our discovery. Father agreed to let Katharina come out with us for a little trip. The state of her magic had stabilized enough for her not to accidentally destroy anything. Although he continued not to allow Kath to use magic. The doctor had not yet determined its source and whether it would stay with her permanently. He preferred to be sure that she would be fine. Today was our trip to the Landfill. Alphys wanted to go with us, however, she had to take care of her younger cousin. She only asked us to find her a working hard drive. The one in her computer is barely holding up.   

“Don't lean out or you'll fall into the water,” Katharina said to Papyrus, who was looking at the icy surface of the river.   

“Please sit down,” added the tall, hooded figure guiding the boat.   

Papyrus puffed out his cheeks. He sat down next to Kath on the boat. He crossed his arms, pretending to be angry. I snorted while watching this. Young was always so funny when he got angry. We took River Persona's boat to Waterfall. River was the only person who guided the residents from Snowdin to the Hotland border. It took almost two hours to cross the river. We only made it to Waterfall as close to the Dump as possible.   

A hike from the pier to the Dump still awaited us. I looked at Kath. She was talking to Papyrus, who had already stopped sulking. She was wearing a hoodie, although no one but Rivera was with us. Most of the route went through the forest, and there was no one here but the Guard.   

And River?   

He was probably the nicest person there was in the Underground. He never forbade anyone to get on the boat. Unless he was aggressive, but that was another matter. He also didn't care if he was guiding a human or a monster. If you paid you could go where you wanted. I smiled slightly.   

“Something happened?” asked Katharina, breaking away from the conversation with my brother.   

Her voice snapped me out of my reverie. I didn't realize that I had been staring at her the whole time. I looked away, getting slightly flustered at the same time. 

“Nothing, I was thinking,” I replied.  

“Tra la la” hummed River under his breath, glancing at me. I had the impression that he was smiling slightly. However, it was hard for me to tell through his large hood. His face was always in shadow, so it was hard to even determine what race he was. No one ever asked about it either. “Something is going on here. Trala la la.”   

Kath looked at me, not really understanding River's words. I just shrugged my shoulders in response. Hardly anyone understood what River Person was talking about. Often, he said nonsensical things. We usually let it go by the ears. That was the case this time, too. His words were out of all contexts. They seemed to be part of a larger thought that was known only to him.  

“We'll be there in a minute!” shouted Papyrus, leaning out of the boat and pointing to the waterfalls.   

  ... 

“I didn't expect such a difference in temperature,” announced Katharina, pulling on her jacket.   

“I warned you to take something light,” I said, turning to her.   

We left the boat and had been walking for a good half hour. We should soon be at the Dump. We walked along the path that led us to the Echo Flowers field, and just beyond it was the Dump.   

“But I thought it wouldn't be more than ten degrees plus,” groaned Katharina, wrapping her jacket around her waist. “Isn't it strange that it's more than twenty degrees here and the temperature in Snowdin is negative?” asked Katharina.   

“Snowdin, Waterfall and Hotland are at the same depth. They are lower than the Ruins. Therefore, theoretically, it should be as cold here as in Snowdin,” I explained to Katharina, who leveled with me. “However, there is a river of lava in Hotland. An offshoot from some underground volcano. That's why Hotland is the warmest - I glanced at Paps from time to time to see if he was moving away too much. He was playing with Echo-flowers. - And Waterfall is located in between. Two fronts meet there. Icy air from Snowdin and hot air from Hotland, mix in Waterfall. They create an ideal climate for growing plants,” I finished.   

Katharina listened to me with bated breath. She absorbed every word I said. For me, the affairs of the Underground are something normal. The eternal winter in Snowdin. Rivers of lava and blue flowers. I often forgot that she did not know my world. She had no way to know it. I, on the other hand, could read books about her world. Hardly a fair deal, but somehow I liked that I could explain everything to her.   

 “Or Echo-flowers!” shouted Papyrus, running up to us.   

Katharina looked at me questioningly. In all this, I did not explain to her what Echo-flowers are. The most beautiful and magical thing in the entire Underworld.   

“They are those blue big flowers. Like most of the plants in Waterfall they are bioluminescent,” I explained further to Kath, and Papyrus grabbed my hand pulling me forward. “They repeat the last words we heard,” I added. "Paps, don't pull me like that!”  

“Let's show Kath the flowers!” cried Papyrus. “So that she can listen to them!”  

I looked at the girl with a questioning gaze. She only glanced at Paps, smiling slightly. She sped up her step, overtaking me and her brother.   

“Then let's go!”, she said cheerfully. Papyrus immediately let me go. He ran up to her. He grabbed her hand and together they ran to a nearby field of Echo Flowers.   

Katharina crouched by one of the flowers. Next to her stood Papyrus, who was saying something to the Echo-Flower. I was too far away to hear anything of it. However, Kath's gentle smile and my brother's happy face looked really nice. The two of them had really become friends with each other in a very short time. Despite what she said, Katharina had a good rapport with the children. She was able to approach Papyrus in such a way that he wanted to do something himself. He even started to clean up after himself, and he had a lot of resistance to that. She was able to convince him somehow. She was really good. If only I had been more careful. Maybe we wouldn't have lost her. People had more to offer us than just hatred.   

... 

Somehow, I find it hard to focus. The more I tell you, the harder it is for me. Even though so much time has passed. It's hard to get over the loss of someone close to you. No matter how hard you try. Along with your loved one, a part of you also dies.   

The day at the dump was special because Kath changed another person's life.   

... 

The dump made a big impression on Katharina. Three-meter-high mountains of various things. From various trinkets such as books, jewelry or toys. One could also find furniture. Wooden, often damaged, but it was no problem to fix them. The eager ones found electronics. Computer parts, tattered televisions or other electronic equipment.   

Such treasures were useful. Not everything could be obtained in the Underground or manufactured. The barrier severely limited us. It was important to distribute resources wisely. As far as I can tell, we were at the same level of development as humans or even a little better developed. This is not known. Human computers were useful to us as sources of information. We used memory cards and read information from them. Thanks to them we learned about human discoveries, or at least some of them, most of the information we got from books.   

But not about that.  

Papyrus, as always when we were at the Dump, was looking for toys or new movies. He would climb to the very top of those mountains and look out. He looked around in all directions. He believed that the higher he climbed the more he would see. In this way, it was difficult for him to find any toys. I used to pull him down and search each of the mounds with him in turn. Only then did we find what we were looking for. Then it was different. Katharina was with us, so I didn't have to watch my brother so much. The girl takes good care of him and doesn't let him do dangerous things. I doubted that anything bad would happen to him.  We shouldn't meet anyone either. We came at lunchtime, which is why it's so empty here. The only person we might run into then was Gerson. An old turtle, a salesman. He has a store nearby. Sometimes he looks into the Dump to replenish the store. No one knows how he does it, that he finds real treasures. Gold or silver jewelry, books and cassettes in great condition. Also many interesting things. They cost a lot at his place, but they were worth the price. Unfortunately, Gerson never had an assortment of electrical parts. He was completely ignorant about it. He also considered some to be superfluous. He was still stuck in the analog era.   

But I diverge from history.  

At that time, I didn't really know what Kath and my brother were doing. I heard some crackling of metal, something sliding, rolling. Normal sounds for the Landfill. Something might have fallen down the hill or slipped because someone stood on an unstable piece. I didn't know what was going on there until I heard Kath scream. I immediately tensed up, and a shiver ran down the back of my neck. I raised my head and looked around. I didn't see Paps or Katharina anywhere. I began to get nervous, and all possible black thoughts came to my mind.   

The ground had settled under Kath. She fell and did something to herself. Maybe Doggo followed us and attacked her? Many things could have happened then.   

The worst part was that I had no idea where they were. I could hear Katharina screaming behind me. However, it was a large area to search. I wanted to teleport to the tops of the nearby mountains of debris to somehow locate them.   

 “Sans!"shouted my brother.   

This time I realized that they were a few meters in front of me. Behind some big mountain of rupees. If he hadn't spoken then, I don't know how long I would have looked for them.   

I transported myself and my breath was taken away. I didn't expect her to be here then. Kath was lying on the ground. Next to her were several broken chairs. She may have fallen, but not alone. In front of her stood Undyne. Her legs were shaking, and in one hand she held a green spear. She probably created it herself with her magic. The sight of her surprised me. Undyne had tried to fight in her youth, but she didn't have too much confidence. She was afraid of fighting, however, she thought she should take revenge. One of the people who fell into the Underworld killed her parents. Since then, she has been under the care of the royal orphanage. The king established it after the war, and often visited the place and spent time with the children. There were not many of them. As far as I can tell at the time there were only three of them in the orphanage. The youngest of them was Undyne. She saw her parents killed. She wanted people to pay for what they took from her. However, she was afraid. Of fighting. The pain. The wounds suffered. Confrontation. Briefly, she was cowardly. She shook with fear whenever she was about to approach a fight. I would never have suspected at the time that she would try to fight. She pointed her spear at Kath. It was all a split second.  

“ I'll show what I'm worth,” she said, taking a swing.   

The spear was approaching Kath. I raised my hand with the intention of pushing Undyne away. I didn't manage to do so. Before my eyes I saw Undyne's spear hit the purple shield. Kath was lying on the ground covering herself with her hands. In front of her was a purple shield. It absorbed the force of the impact. The spear fell out of Undyne's hand, and the concentrated magic disintegrated.   

We were all stunned.   

I did not know that Kath was capable of this. She had not mastered the basics of magic, and she managed to create a shield. Something material. This is really difficult magic. It often takes many years to learn something like this. Kath's shield disappeared as the girl lowered her hands. She looked at them as confused as we were. I quickly shrugged it off. I had to do something. Undyne was too close. She was a threat, and I wouldn't let anything happen to Katharina. I raised my hand, surrounding Undyne with blue magic.    

[perpetual-fool]

Music?

In my blind writhing I've picked up guitar again. By 'guitar' I mean 'making music generally', entails means 'guitar + singing'. And it's making me feel a little better? which is very strange for a couple reasons.

Mainly, nothing should be making me feel any better. I've tried everything, there's nothing left. I thought. So I don't know what's going on. Speculating, it might feel like putting feelings to music gives it legitimacy. Like, she has a couple songs that sound like they're about what happened, except the events are completely flipped around. Like "..can't bear you to leave.." when she was the one who abandoned me. And the songs feel like hard proof that she's right and good and perfect and I'm lying and wrong and evil and crazy. So having my own as rebuttal would mean I'm not crazy?

But also, this should be extremely triggering. She's the root of this torment and this was very very much her thing. Professional musician, album on spotify, opened for a big famous band once (supposedly). And it's just not? I think, somehow, this never got contaminated. Like pretty much everything is like: I tried picking up card stacking, then when I told someone about it they it was inherently unethical because the national card stacking association supports a known hate group, and it doesn't make any sense but it leaves a bad taste in my mouth about the whole thing. Which is to say, pretty much everything has bad memories attached. And we just never got into it. I tried. I asked about how to go about writing songs or learning to sing and play. But the shit she told me was like "just do it" and "finish what you started". So she never told me anything about it, actually.

If I keep thinking about her the daymares are going to start up again.

So, music and stuff. As a bass, this is actually fairly complicated. The voice is going to be lead melody of course, would sound very strange otherwise. The problem is that the lowest notes are the foundation of the harmony. And with a single instrument or one that blends really well I can do some interesting stuff. Like, you can play a chord on guitar and keep moving the bass note down one fret, and that still sounds good. But with a different instrument it just sounds out of tune. And up in alto range you can sing/play whatever note you want and it'll sound right so long as it's in the same key. But me, if there's a chord happening anywhere in the low end, then I have to be singing one of those notes, else it sounds off. And singing arpeggios as a melody would be very limiting and strange, so what I'll have to do is rapidly change the chord to keep up with the melody.

Here's a video of that being done well: (https://youtu.be/TLvtw4nXou0?si=nQDI0QGqkjRJulKX)

I don't think this instrument is at all appropriate. I can't change chords that fast, even ignoring the screeching. I could maybe play fast and loose with dyads but the instrument really is optimized for fat six-string filler chords. And anything whose range overlaps mine significantly is going to sound very muddy or be very awkward to play around that. So what then? Bass wasn't totally off base, I could directly harmonize with that. Would be awkward. A chord instrument an octave or more above me would work, ukulele or something. I hate how those sound, not my thing. (https://youtu.be/Vqbk9cDX0l0?si=nYme3tApMTzFwSUG) So it seems like my best option is my first love, viola. I can make that work now. Also, my fingers are too fat for guitar, it's really hard to play. I'd be better off with something more like piccolo bass. Though I also don't have monster bass hands a la Justin Chancellor, so I guess I have cello-sized hands? And speaking of, bass would be more suitable for the kind of thing I'd want to play anyway. (https://youtu.be/ke6Qxkel8cU?si=NAM9FFFQ9haj1pYcl)

I want to hear what bass rock-voice sounds like. Like Chester but down an octave.

Anyway, running out of steam and the daymares are coming back. I should try and go to sleep. I don't hurt when I sleep. currently.

[mechanicalinertia]

Saw this gif, and I couldn't help but be reminded of how good Sylia's introduction is from a storytelling standpoint. It's right at the fifteen-minute mark, it's two minutes-ish, and the dialogue is fairly minimal even while the emotional beats slam into place one after another. I wouldn't say it's my favorite sequence in OVA 1, because this is an episode where Konya Wa Hurricane dominates everything else, but it's still really good.

Think about it. First we have her swimming under the moonlight. Cool, calm, the only sound some surprisingly loud foleying of her swimming. Then: Okay, we know she's Saber White. We don't know her name, but we know who she is. Then, close up: There's something about her expression that suggests - concern. Depth under still waters. Then, as if to dispel the thoughts of what she's been doing, she flips around, floating on her back, hardly swimming at all. Her eyes shut. She remembers something else - and there's the audio bridge of the phone before we see what's going on.

Okay, flash back. She's a kid. She wants to know when papa's coming home. Mama's nowhere to be seen, so she puts on a brave face: "I'm all right, but Mackie's feeling lonely." Oh, she's not all right. Mackie waves happily - look, hi dad! How are you? - when she's the one who misses him. And dad just kinda brushes her off - 'be patient just a little while longer - and we see the prototype Boomer, all artificial muscle fibers and that same snarling visage of the 55C. And Boomers, at this point, are fairly monstrous. The only context we see them in are as skin-bursting murder-monsters Quincy happily sells for the Polar War. We haven't seen sympathetic machines yet.

Okay, another audio feed-in as Sylia plays the role of big sister and puts Mackie to bed - sirens. And Sylia watches as her father disappears from her life, and then she's disraught, and then we get the data unit, and then every memory seems to overwhelm her as music starts to build, and then that same shocked expression on little Sylia's face cuts back to her older self as music cuts out.

It's incredible. It tells us about how, for all that Sylia seems to be the cool-beauty type, utterly unflappable, there is some shit going on in her head, things even her little brother can never understand. She inherited the hardsuits and a revenge quest from a father that didn't seem to be there for her often, but who is she really? How much of Sylia is Sylia? Sure, she has her more straightforward moments when she says that her objective is to 'protect peace and justice and rid the world of evil', but this little sequence tells us a great deal about the character that isn't really explored much. We get that strange sad look on her face when she stabs Mason in the throat, and then her true motives around Dr. Stingray aren't really discussed until Crash, of all times. I wish we'd gotten to get more inside her head - especially if the theory that she's some sort of transhuman a la Grand Mal is true.

[mischief-lies-and-stories]

Sylvie Playlist

I previously posted my Loki playlist. I also have a Sylvie-specific playlist. Several of these are transferred over from my Loki playlist, because originally I was using my Loki playlist as a catch-all for everything Loki-related, but then decided to create just a Sylvie playlist. Some of them just fit Sylvie, also.

"After the Storm", Mumford and Sons: Either running from the TVA after getting arrested as a child or post-killing Kang.

"Keeping Your Head Up," Birdie: Running from the TVA through all the apocalypses her entire life

"Heirloom," Sleeping at Last: trans-girl Sylvie ("You are so much more than your father's son," because she's not her father's son, she's a girl!) And also being her own person, because she doesn't have a family anymore :(

"C'est La Mort," The Civil Wars: Platonic Loki and Sylvie, and also loving her family.

"Left Behind," from Spring Awakening: She lost her whole family

"Hold My Girl," George Ezra: me @ Sylvie, cuz I love her and she's perfect and she can do no wrong.

"She Used to Be Mine," from Waitress: Fucking hell, this song is perfect for Sylvie, just all of it is quintessential Sylvie.

"Hymn for N," The Cottars: Sylvie and Loki, but again, not romantic, because the very first line is, "I may not have a heart to give you." I don't ship this, but I will acknowledge that Loki thinks that he loves her. And I think Sylvie will acknowledge that he thinks he does.

"Send Me a River," The Cottars: "Send her a river, because she's not where she wants to be." Again, Sylvie just on the run. And also, that shot we get of her in the season two trailer or promotional something or other where she's sitting on that couch with the headphones on, she just looks like she'd rather be anywhere else.

"I'm Still Here," from Treasure Planet: Again, on the run. And also being taken in by the TVA in the first place for being or doing wrong in some, unknown way. Like, she was a child. No matter how you spin it, she couldn't help whatever her Nexus Event was (I mean, I guess unless she'd just killed Thor like Kid Loki, but you'd think if that was the case it would've been her first theory of why she got arrested, rather than that she's a girl...unless she lied about what she thought her nexus event was!!! OOOH, betcha didn't expect to find the beginning of a theory in the middle of a playlist post. Neither did I.)

"Where Do I Go From Here?" from Pocahontas II: Post-killing Kang

"He Who Remains," "Be," and "B-15's Memories," from Loki: All tracks from the Loki soundtrack, either from scenes she was in or plot points she was a hand in or just tracks that at least made me think of her.

"Let It Go," from Frozen (specifically the Broadway soundtrack): I don't know, it just feels like a good song for her.

"Wasteland, Baby!," by Hozier: It's all about the apocalypse

"I Have Made Mistakes," by The Oh Hellos: That's just a Loki song, it fits all the variants

"Fear of Fear," by Passenger: "Fill my past with regret/Wrap my present in brown paper/Fill my future with promises, the promise to come later" Kind of just about time and regret

"Monster," from Frozen (the Broadway soundtrack): It's fitting for Sylvie, because it's this moment of Elsa being like, 'Am I the monster that I was trying not to be, because I've frozen my sister's heart and frozen the only home I've ever known?' And Sylvie was taken in as a child and not really told why, so she's just kind of like 'Am I just a terrible person, inherently? Because I had to have done something wrong if they took me in.' And she's had to make terrible decisions just to stay alive, so I don't think she would ever say now that she's a good person at all, just because of what she's had to do.

"Alone," by Trampled By Turtles: She's been alone her entire life

"If You Run," by The Desert Sessions: She's been running her entire life

"Darkest Days," by Passenger: "See the lights of your town slowly sink and drown," Asgard was reset when she was arrested

"Only Us," from Dear Evan Hansen: So canonically this is a romantic song, but it is on here as a purely platonic song in my interpretation of it.

"I Dreamed a Dream," from Les Mis (but it's the Darren Criss cover, because I love him): It's just a song about all the expectations you have for your life, and now it's all gone to shit, which I feel like is Sylvie.

"The Next Right Thing," from Frozen II: Again, she's fucked up her entire life. She stabbed He Who Remains, and now the timeline is splintering like a tree that's been struck by lightning. What is she gonna do now? The next right thing. Getting hired by McDonald's in the seventies is the next right thing she came up with apparently, I don't fucking know.

"Please Don't Say You Love Me," by Gabrielle Aplin: I mean, Loki: "Don't say you love me, because I might not say it back."

"Let's Fall in Love for the Night," by FINNEAS: Listen. I don't know why I put this. Why are some of these songs kind of selfcest romantic? I'm just noticing this now; I'm kind of mad at myself actually.

"Kingdom Come," by the Civil Wars: "Run, run, run away/Buy yourself another day." That's why.

"no body no crime," by Taylor Swift: I found this on another Sylvie playlist, but it makes perfect sense.

"Flaws," by Bastille: This is Loki and Sylvie platonically.

"Need the Sun to Break," by James Bay: Sylvie on the run, again. Or also right after she kills Kang

"Carry You," by The Native Sibling: Loki talking to Sylvie while she's trying to kill Kang and he's trying to get her to stop

"This Time," by Mandy Harvey: "I'm not the same kid I used to be." She's changing, she's been changed.

[stillness-in-green]

AFO is a victim of the biological determinism of his own quirk--like Toga, but moreso.  But damned if I could tell you how the greater narrative about Hero Society and inequality benefits from that. 👀 oh??

Ahaha, well, that's more a "looking for Watsonian answers to Doylist questions" theory than one I'm ready to seriously declare for, BUT.  It is a theory I've had at the back of my mind for somewhere in the neighborhood of two years now, since I first brought it up in discussion with a friend. 

It's largely a theory aimed at addressing why All For One is Like That, beyond a handwave of, "He was just born Like That.  You know—a monster."  I'd say there are two main parts—the biological determinism, and the vestige mechanics.

Hit the jump!

Firstly, we know that people can be influenced by their quirk.  The standard bearer is, of course, Toga, whose quirk gives her an innate attraction to blood that her trying to suppress for a decade eventually led to tragedy.  She's an extreme case, but Re-Destro makes the observation as well, that there is a connection between one's personality and one's quirk.  Think of something like Bakugou's explosive personality, or La Brava's stalker tendencies.

Re-Destro obviously overstates somewhat; there are plenty of characters whose personality and quirk seem to have no notable connection (say Tamaki for example), as well as characters who seem to have a personality that matches their quirk, but may also just be playing up that personality up as part of their social persona (Present Mic).  Still, it wouldn’t be very hard to read a certain amount of compulsion into AFO. There's even some decent evidence for it, in AFO's interactions with the Pussycats!

I could also see his compulsion being—let’s say, enabled by whatever his and Yoichi’s circumstances demanded of him back when they were young.  In such a dangerous world, with the social order having completely broken down, what was he supposed to do?  Just lie down and let them both be trampled over because, without using his quirk, he was as defenseless as his brother? Not likely!

Of course, him telling himself it’s for his and Yoichi’s sake as an excuse for doing what he wants to do anyway doesn’t excuse his many crimes, no more than Toga’s compulsion and family circumstances excuse hers.  Also too, whatever faux-altruism he might once have claimed, he’s clearly long shaken it off by now.  It’s always been notable to me, though, that he did once try to make excuses for his actions.  In the OFA dream flashbacks, he talked about bringing order to a world gone mad; he framed giving and taking quirks in exchange for favors explicitly as a middle ground he was graciously taking between just stockpiling all the quirks he liked and not bothering with social networking at all versus using his quirk only for the sake of others and asking nothing in return.

He’d clearly already gone full-tilt megalomaniac even then, but all the Demon Lord talk was much more vague, only coming up at the tail end of the dream, and only in the form of a stray reference to, “that comic you used to read.”  That was all likely over a century ago, though, and a hundred years is a lot of time to go all-in on the evil overlord thing, especially after his brother was no longer around to make justifications to, and especially after being defeated by All Might.

Secondly, as regards the vestige mechanics, we know that carrying too many quirks can cause mental breakdowns, even catatonia.  AFO, of course, has some natural resistance to this due to the nature of his quirk, but how much resistance does he have?  Particularly given what we now know about quirks having vestiges, what’s the effect on AFO of spending over a hundred years filling up his hind brain with other peoples’ voices, instincts, memories and wills?  How much can we really say that the present AFO much resembles the person Shigaraki Yoichi’s older brother once was?

To be clear, I don't think this idea is very well-supported by the canon.  As far as the story as we have it is concerned, AFO has just been bad news from the start, at least until Yoichi condescends to tell Deku any different.  Likewise, AFO is clearly capable of being discerning about which quirks he takes and which he doesn’t; he further doesn’t seem to have any reluctance to giving quirks away if it suits his needs.  So I don’t think “biological compulsion” is a thing that has a strong sway over him, and any claims he makes that suggest otherwise (as in the images above) are just him being a big chortling sophist.

In terms of “how I’d treat it if I were to write the fanfic,” however, I think it would be interesting to treat All for One (the quirk) as something of an addiction meeting an addictive personality. To wit, AFO was always going to be susceptible to his quirk’s influence, but once he started using it, his ability to resist the impulse eroded further and further over time.  The same thing happened to his mentality—as he fell farther and farther, he threw away the excuses he once relied on and just embraced his hedonistic desire to possess.

As to how this fits the overarching themes of HeroAca?  Well, I don’t really think it does.  For starters, it would have required a take on Deku and One For All that was much less simplistic than the one we wound up with.  If the narrative had really leaned into the idea of OFA as a “cursed” power, if Deku had run into much more serious opposition from the previous bearers over his “save Shigaraki” notion, that would have paralleled an AFO who was ultimately a slave to his own desires better. 

(I’d also want that version of the story to examine All Might’s “Pillar” ideal and his decision to pass OFA forward even after he seemingly defeated AFO. Have Deku question how much of those decisions were really Toshinori Yagi’s and how much were the influence of One For All seeking to propagate itself forward and transform its bearer into a selfless vessel for service, a literal "One" to serve "All," regardless of the pain endured by the vessel. Look, too, at All Might's paternalism, of his and Deku's tendency to deny other people their say in what burdens they would choose to shoulder! There's so much interesting you could do with OFA if it weren't so damned idealized.)

The story we have, though, isn't a psychological horror about subverted identity hiding in the skin of an optimistic shonen action comic. It's about the impact of superpowers on society at large, about structural complacency, quirk-based prejudice, the correct actions of those who have power and those who lack it, about legacy and about what is meant by terms like “winning” and “saving.”  I think quirks with compulsive underpinnings like Toga’s are an important facet of that story, but shouldn’t be the explanation for the man shaping up to be the ultimate face of The Opponent The Main Characters Must Overcome.

Thanks for your interest, anon!  Other anon(?) who asked about the AFO Retcon Theory, that one’s going to take a bit longer, but I will do my best to get it put together in a reasonably timely fashion.

[n00dl3gal]

Like Old Times (Father-Son Bonding AU)

A direct sequel to the “Expiration Date” fic, which I’ll link in a reblog. I’ve also posted all my fics in this AU to AO3!! Thanks again to @thetriggeredhappy for their help and just generally being a cool dude, and the Scoutsune Discord server for indulging my brainrot

No warnings beyond family schmoop!

Less than an hour after the bread monster incident, the Administrator called for a ceasefire. “Only while your base is repaired,” she said over the TV screen. “BLU is quite disappointed in this negligence- as am I. Regardless, you may use these three days as you see fit. Go home, stay here- whatever you do, no more bread monsters.” The screen turned off with a click. 

Scout exhaled through his nose. He was thankful there was no mention of him or Miss Pauling’s woodchipper. 

Spy decloaked behind him. “Less time than I wanted, but c’est la vie.” Scout looked at him over his shoulder. “I’m meeting with an old contact during our break,” Spy said in Italian. “Would you like to come along? It’ll be like old times.” 

Scout’s brow furrowed, but he nodded. At least this way, he’d get out of helping Engie and Heavy with repairs. And possibly meeting Miss Pauling’s woodchipper. 

“Excellent. Our flight is at 7 AM tomorrow.” 

“We’re flying commercial?” Scout asked, also in (more hesitant) Italian. 

“Our destination is continental. We’ll leave the base by 5:30.” Scout groaned as Spy started to leave. But- wait, he hadn’t- 

“Oi, where are we going, anyway?” he called back in English. 

Spy paused to look at him and smile. “Boston.” 

“Why do we always get the ass-crack-of-dawn flights?” Jeremy asked groggily, reclining his seat.

“They are the ones with first-class seats available,” Raphael replied. He took a sip from his mimosa. 

“Yeah, cuz God forbid you fly coach for once.” Jeremy shifted, trying to get comfortable. “Hey. Have I ever been to Boston before?”

Raphael didn’t answer immediately. His lip sucked in, as if in thought. “Yes. When you were very, very young. You wouldn’t remember.” 

Jeremy nodded. He wanted to ask more, there was something Raphael wasn’t saying but… well, he was never a morning person. He fell asleep before the plane even took off. 

. . .

It was mid-afternoon by the time they landed in Boston. Jeremy was never fond of long flights; having his legs cramped like that for extended periods of time was murder. He was half tempted to take a jog around Logan International. Raphael, on the other hand, was ushering them both to the car rental. “Can’t even get a stretch in, huh?”

“Unfortunately, we are expected by 4, and I would hate to keep my contact waiting,” Raphael explained in French, accepting the keys from the girl at the counter. “She’s not a very patient woman, in some regards.” 

Jeremy huffed but didn’t argue. He just followed his father to the rental, tossing his suitcase in the backseat. “Y’know, the girl at the counter-” 

“We will not have time for you to go out on a date, Jeremy.” 

“No! No, it was- her accent’s kinda like mine, it’s weird,” Jeremy said. Raphael started the car. “Cuz I’ve only been here as a baby, and I got mine from TV and shit. It’s just… really strange, is all.” 

Raphael made a quiet noise of agreement. “Some of the shows you watched as a child were filmed here. It’s not as complex as you think it is.” 

“Yeah, probably not…” 

The pair lapsed into silence as Raphael drove. Storefronts and high rises morphed into houses. It had been a while since they were in a residential area. RED, for understandable reasons, kept away from civilians. 

Raphael took the roads with practiced experience. Sure, it had been implied he knew the area. If he had a contact here- one with a house, presumably- he must’ve spent time here. But this- this was far too familiar. A bit suspicious, actually. 

Eventually, Raphael slowed in front of a more rundown Brownstone. Still quite nice, just needed a little work. It felt… welcoming, in a way Jeremy couldn’t name.

“Lotta cars,” he observed as Raphael parallel parked. “Must be a party going on somewhere.” 

“Hmm, perhaps,” Raphael said, turning the car off. “Would you mind ringing the doorbell for me? I need to grab something from the trunk. Ask for Sara Jane.” 

OK, now Jeremy knew something was up. He was never the one to make the first contact, that was always Dad’s job. Jeremy might be a full-grown adult, but there were some things that didn’t change. This was one of them. 

Still, he nodded. He climbed up the front steps and ringed the doorbell. He heard- multiple voices from inside, predominantly male, but they quickly silenced themselves. A TV, perhaps? They really ought to get that flower box on the second story window fixed- 

The woman who opened the door was a bit shorter than him, though not by much. She was wearing a simple dress, hoop earrings, and flats. Her hair was dark, curved to her chin. But her nose and earlobes felt… achingly familiar. Like Jeremy saw them all the time. 

“Um, hi, I’m looking for Sara Jane? My name’s-” The rest of his speech was knocked out of him as the woman launched herself at him. Jeremy braced for an attack, but quickly realized she was… hugging him. 

She was hugging him, sobbing, and choked out the word “Jeremy.” 

Wait. He knew that voice. He had only heard it a few times in his life, few enough he could count them on one hand, but he knew it. “M-Ma?” he whispered. 

The woman- Sara Jane- Ma looked up at him, still crying. Her hands found his face as she observed him. “Y-yeah, sweetie, it’s me, it’s-it’s your ma,” she said. 

“Ma!” he laughed, tears of his own dancing down his cheeks. He hugged her back, practically lifting her off her feet. “Oh my God, Ma! I-I never thought I’d-” 

“Oh Jeremy, sweetie, look how tall you’ve gotten! Last I saw you, you fit in my arms! My baby, my handsome baby,” she spoke over him. She rubbed circles into his back as they embraced. It felt so, so right. 

Jeremy laughed even harder. “Are you kiddin’? I got it from you, you’re beautiful, Ma!” He stared at her, trying to commit every mole and wrinkle and perfect flaw to memory. “I can’t believe- oh my God, I’m actually meeting you!” 

“It was long overdue,” another voice said, as Raphael joined them on the front stoop. “I had put it off for safety reasons, but considering our current, ah, situation… I felt it was worth the risk.” 

Sara Jane squealed, pulling Raphael into the hug as well. “You’ve been taking good care of my boy, you promise me, Raphael?” 

“Don’t worry Ma, he’s the best dad I could ask for, considering,” Jeremy teased. 

“Oh, don’t I know it. Called me up last night and told me to get the whole motley crew together. Even managed to get Melvin to bring his twin daughters, bless his wife’s heart,” she explained. 

Jeremy blinked. “Uh- Melvin? Daughters?”

Sara Jane laughed. It sounded so much like Jeremy’s it practically hurt. This was his mother. Lord, he’s finally seeing her. “Melvin’s your older brother, sweetie. Eh, sixth oldest. Bobby’s the oldest.” 

“I have a brother?”

“Oh honey, you’re the youngest of eight,” Sara Jane said plainly. 

“...fuck,” Jeremy whispered. 

. . .

He didn’t just have seven brothers. He had seven brothers, four of which brought their wives, one who brought his boyfriend, and three who brought their kids. And the kids totaled to an additional six, counting the babies. 

It was… an admittedly tight squeeze in the living room. 

Sara Jane introduced Jeremy. Jeremy had been expecting to be treated like a stranger. He had vanished when he was a baby, after all, and his younger-older brothers probably wouldn’t remember him at all. 

And yet, it was like he knew them all his life. 

They teased him and punched him playfully and acted so friendly, so familial it nearly made Jeremy break down. He was still crying from meeting Ma, but being dogpiled with so much affection was suffocating. In a good way. He had seen on sitcoms the intrinsic bond between family, and while he felt it with Dad, they also risked their lives nearly daily. But it was real, it was here, and it was wrapping him in a warm blanket. 

Despite the chaos and the sheer number of people, Jeremy didn’t feel overwhelmed. He laughed and played along with their jokes, cracking some back when he could get a word in. Scott ragged on his dog tags, he countered by pointing out the hole in his pants. Michael told him he was still a shortass, he replied with “it takes one to know one.” Elliot and Ricky were the closest to actually getting hurt, and that was only because Jeremy elbowed them both so hard they nearly fell over. 

For the first time in 25 years, Jeremy understood what “home” meant. 

The kids were especially curious, eager to meet their uncle and step-grandfather. Within seconds, young Rebecca- only four years old- was challenging Jeremy to a race around the house. “I’m the fastest kid in the world,” she bragged, puffing out her chest. 

“Oh yeah?” Jeremy asked. “That a fact?”

“You wanna test me? I beat Johnny Three-Legs at running, and he’s got three legs!” Jeremy laughed and stood from the couch, letting her lead him outside. “On the count of three, OK?”

“You’re on, pipsqueak,” Jeremy teased.

“Onetwothree GO!” Rebecca yelled, taking off in a sprint. Jeremy knew that, by all accounts, he should beat her. His legs were longer, she didn’t have the proper running stance, and it was his job to be fast. That’s what he got paid to do. But some small voice was telling him to let her win, so he did. “Ha! I told ya!” 

“Ya sure did,” he replied, mock panting. “Look at you, a freaking blur on the green. You’re goin’ to the Olympics, kid.” 

Rebecca beamed and hugged his leg. “Promise, Uncle Jeremy?” He nodded because, after that display, there was no way he could speak without squeaking like a chew toy. 

Rebecca skipped back inside, past Raphael, who was watching on the stoop. “You’re a natural with children,” he observed. “I used to do the same thing when you were that age.” 

“Wait- wait, really? You sure fooled me,” Jeremy said. 

Raphael rolled his eyes. “What’s my job again, mon lapin?”

“Yeah, yeah…” Jeremy leaned against the railing, watching Raphael’s cigarette smoke in the wind. “Hey. Uh… thanks for arranging all of this. You really didn’t need to.”

“But I did. I meant it when I said this was overdue. I’ve been wanting to introduce you to the rest of the family for a while, but have been unable. Then that whole ordeal with the supposed tumors, and-” Raphael exhaled slowly. “It wouldn’t have been fair to you if you died without knowing them. I would’ve never forgiven myself.” 

Jeremy punched his shoulder lightly. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, pops. It all worked out, we’re still kicking, and that roast chicken Ma’s making smells incredible. Everything’s perfect.” 

Raphael finished his cigarette and smiled. “Oui. It is.” 

. . .

While Sara Jane had been able to get the rest of the family here, it was a school night. Kids needed to be tucked in by 9:30, so most of Jeremy’s brothers were gone by 8. Elliot was staying overnight, as was his boyfriend. Otherwise, the house quickly went from bustling to barren. 

It gave Jeremy a chance to explore his would-be childhood home.

He made his way upstairs, pushing open one of the doors. It led- to little surprise- to a bedroom. It was set up like a nursery, with a crib in one corner and a toddler bed in the other. Toys were scattered about across the floor. 

He heard Sara Jane sigh behind him. “This was your room, you know.” Jeremy turned to look at her as she flipped the light switch. “That crib… I had put you to bed the night your father planned to fake his death. I was in on the whole plan, naturally. He wanted to hold you one last time, so I said OK. When I woke up the next morning… you were both gone.” She exhaled slowly, grabbing onto his shoulder. “I wrote both of you off as dead, but I knew what had happened. Honestly, should’ve figured it out before then. You hadn’t woken me up crying,” she joked. Her eyes were watering. 

Jeremy hugged her, pulling her close. “You never took the crib down?” 

“By the time I was ready, Bobby’s wife was pregnant, so I kept it up for my grandbabies. I knew- I knew you were out there, sweetie. Both of you.” She kissed his cheek, squeezing him.

“I-I never got to be a normal kid, really,” he confessed. “I mean, Dad did his best, gave me comic books and board games and stuff, but-but I never went to school or made friends or anything like that. I-I didn’t even know I had a family. It took me forever to even realize I had a Ma. An-and everything I did-” The tears were flowing again, more freely than earlier. “Ya missed me losing my first tooth, and potty trainin’, and all that stuff parents should know about. I-I’m sorry,” he whispered. 

Sara Jane wiped his cheek dry. “Don’t apologize for what your father did, Jeremy. And definitely don’t apologize for me not potty training another kid. Besides… hold on, I’ll be right back.” She made her way down the hallway. Jeremy didn’t follow, instead deciding to examine the crib. This was where he grew up. It was a simple crib, obviously well-used. Not worn-down, mind, just… used. It had a history. A history that Jeremy wanted to decode, but unlike his dad’s ciphers, he didn’t have the key. 

“Took me a second to find it,” Sara Jane said. She handed him what appeared to be a scrapbook. “Raphael- he wrote when he can. Taught me some basic codes, would send out letters whenever you’d leave a town. Never left a return address, but…” Jeremy flipped through the pages, moving to sit on the small bed. The letters were all coded but appeared to be about how much Raphael missed Sara Jane. Updates on Jeremy’s growth. Letters from a father to his lover and son’s mother. 

One page jumped out to him, though. “I remember this,” he said, running his fingers against the paper. It was a simple drawing of a young boy, holding a catcher’s mitt, and a taller man next to him. “I drew this after Dad took me to my first baseball game, for my eighth birthday. I thought I lost the drawing after we skipped town, but- he sent them to you?”

Sara Jane nodded. “And I kept them all. Oh, honey, the day I first heard your voice on the phone- Mikey can tell you, I damn near fell over. You sounded so happy, and even if I couldn’t see you, that’s all a mother wants.” Jeremy leaned against her and she shut the book. “That’s all a mother wants, sweetie. To see her kids be safe and happy.” 

“I am, Ma,” he assured her. “I promise.” 

They sat like that for a while, with Sara Jane commenting on various letters and drawings in the scrapbook. Apparently, Raphael sent her money when he could- more frequently now that Mann Co. paid so well. She also had a rough idea of their current occupations. “I figure, if you and your father are working for the same company- with his skills, there’s gotta be a whole lot of nonsense going on out in that desert.” Jeremy laughed at that because she wasn’t wrong. “But I also figure since he raised you right, he’ll keep the both of you safe.” 

“I keep him safe too, don’t worry,” Jeremy added. “Uh- listen, it’s touching and all you kept the crib, but I don’t have to sleep in it, right?” 

They both had a good chuckle over that. Their laughs were in perfect harmony. 

. . .

The next two days were a mix of learning the family history and exploring Boston. It was the offseason, so there weren’t any games going on at Fenway, but Jeremy still got a picture in front of the park. Sara Jane took the pair to a restaurant that served “the best damn clam chowder in the contiguous United States.” Which, incidentally, led them to discover Jeremy was allergic to clams. Thankfully they didn’t have to go to the hospital- he just sort of immediately got sick before it passed- but it did suck.

It was damn good chowder, though. 

They went down to the harbor where the Boston Tea Party happened. It was crowded with people, resulting in them not staying long. Jeremy was a bit better with crowds than Raphael, but neither was great with them. Came with the job. Getting overpriced memorabilia from a nearby gift shop, though, went over much more smoothly. 

When not out on the town, Sara Jane dug out more scrapbooks and photo albums, catching Raphael up on what his stepsons had been up to. She showed Jeremy pictures from Ricky’s first school play to Scott opening up his butcher shop. Graduation pictures, wedding pictures, baby pictures- it was all there, and Jeremy devoured it. He wanted to know these people. He wanted to know his family. And he did. He learned about Michael’s stint in the Navy, Melvin meeting his wife, how Bobby’s son could dribble a basketball for twenty minutes straight. He learned about how his parents met. How Raphael loved each of Sara Jane’s children, even if they weren’t biologically his. How Jeremy wasn’t planned- few of the kids were - but they were both so, so happy to realize he was coming. 

He also learned that, while diner food would remain the undisputed king, homemade meatloaf came pretty close. 

. . .

The only problem came when it was time to leave. It wasn’t that Jeremy didn’t want to return to work, or leave his Ma behind. Sara Jane wasn’t even torn up over losing her son and lover again. It just felt like there was so much left to say, to do. There was uncertainty as to when they’d be able to return. “We get time off for Smissmas, I know that’s months away but I’ll be here, I promise,” Jeremy swore, hugging Sara Jane for the eighth time. 

“You better,” she said, squeezing him tightly. “You have 25 years worth of gifts to catch up on, not to mention birthday gifts-”

“Ma, you don’t have to go that far,” he whined. He was touched, sure, but the thought of that much luggage was truly frightening. Oh God, he was going to have to get gifts for everybody, wasn’t he? What do kids even want for Smissmas? 

“Hush, let me spoil my baby,” Sara Jane told him, kissing his cheek. “Oh, Jeremy…” 

Jeremy nodded. “I know, but I’ll call. I’ll write, too. Send pictures if I can.” 

“I’ll make sure he does,” Raphael assured her. Sara Jane stood to kiss his lips, with Jeremy looking away pointedly. “You have my word, ma petite chou-fleur.” 

“Alright, alright- now get going, I don’t want you two missing your flight. That boss of yours sounds like she’ll tear you both a new one if you’re late,” Sara Jane said, shooing them away. “Love you boys!” 

“I love you too, Ma!” Jeremy shouted back, for the very first time. 

The drive back to the airport was quiet. Jeremy stared out the window, watching his hometown- he had a hometown- pass by. “Hey, dad?” he asked, still looking outside. Raphael grunted to acknowledge he was listening. “One of these days, our contracts with Mann Co. are gonna expire. We’re gonna have to find new jobs.” 

“Yes, that’s correct,” Raphael said. He tapped a rhythm against the steering wheel. 

“And-and I was thinking when that time comes… maybe we could come back to Boston. Find some gigs out here,” Jeremy suggested. 

Raphael sighed. “Unfortunately, being a spy means that you don’t have the option of retiring, Jeremy. Not until you’re unable to complete your job. At that point, though, you’ve probably died a dozen times over,” he explained. “Even if I could retire, settling down somewhere so close to people I care about- I would still have enemies.” 

“Right. ‘Course,” Jeremy said. “It’s OK.” 

“That being said,” Raphael continued, “you have the luxury of youth and not being tied down to such a career. If you want to find a job in Boston after we finish with RED, there’s nothing stopping you.” 

“But people will still be after me, since I’m your son. And you wouldn’t be around.”

“Every child leaves their parents someday. And you’re strong, Jeremy. You can protect yourself and your family.” Raphael smiled. “I don’t believe Sara Jane needs much protecting, but I do worry.” 

Jeremy laughed. “I mean, did ya see the muscles on Scott and Michael? Guys can probably bench press a tractor!” 

They both chuckled before settling into quietude. Eventually, though, Jeremy had to break the silence. His voice was barely above a whisper. “I love you.” 

“I love you too, mon lapin.”

“...so your nickname for Ma is fucking ‘little cauliflower?’ What the hell, Dad?” 

[interact-if]

Day 2 of Pride Month interviews! You know them, you love them…. give it up for Ames!

Ames, author of Attollo and Metamorphosis

Pride Month Featured Authors

“…and it was a singular, terrible thought, which burrowed itself into your mind like an engorged maggot. This was not a man nor a monster. This was a concept, an ideology, a terrible myth, which had personified itself to stand before you now.You were, to put it simply, screwed.”

After several years of radio silence, you receive a message from your younger sibling that carries a strange sense of urgency to it. Either out of familial concern or boredom, you embark on a journey from your residence to your sibling’s apartment in New Hampshire to see what’s going on and, hopefully, be home before the weekend.

Too bad it’s never so simple.

Demo: Attollo, Metamorphosis (TBA)

Tags: cybernoir, thriller

(INTERVIEW TRANSCRIPT UNDER THE CUT!)

Q1: Tell us a little bit about your project(s)!

Attollo is a cyber-noir horror set in a walled city off the coast of the Atlantic that’s been a victim of a nuclear disaster. After several years of radio silence, you receive a message from your younger sibling that carries a strange sense of urgency to it. Either out of familial concern or boredom, you embark on a journey from your residence to your sibling’s apartment in New Hampshire to see what’s going on and, hopefully, be home before the weekend. Too bad it’s never so simple. Attollo is a 17+ game that deals with heavy topics and a lot of moral questioning; from cults to corrupt government, it has no shortage of monsters in the dark—both metaphorical and literal.

Metamorphosis is a crime/horror story based in the world of crime scene cleanup, where there are three simple steps: Get the call, clean the scene, and don’t ask too many questions. These are the rules that you live by under the employment of Noctua’s Crime Scene Services, and you credit them for keeping you alive.

However, after a routine house call brings forth nightmares of memories that are not your own, you find yourself pulled deeper into Noctua—a city of both monster and man—in a bid to find out the truth behind the murder of Deirdre Callow, and better yet, how her memories came to be yours. Your job mandates that you don’t dig too deep—but could this finally be the exception?

Metamorphosis is 18+ and will have explicit content; follow the last moments of a stranger to find out not only who took her life, but how this connects to the underbelly that Noctua works so hard to hide.

Q2: Why interactive fiction? What drew you to the medium?

Lmaoo, oh man. I think it really all began last summer when I first found examples of interactive fiction. I don’t even remember how I came across it, it might’ve been that I saw it mentioned in a post or I saw it as a tag on Itch.io, but at some point, last summer I began to investigate it more. I think what really drew me in was the ability for the player to control the narrative; it was like playing an old RPG, but modernized, and the fact that I could see a story unfold that was influenced by my decisions was so fascinating to me. Not to mention that IF allows so much more character depth than regular novels, in my opinion.

I’m 99% sure my first exposure to interactive fiction was through the game Crème de la Crème (a fantastic game, by the way) and I just enjoyed it so much that I went haywire for the genre. Then Temple of the Endless Night came out (another fantastic game that I’m looking forward to!), and that was really the turning point for inspiring me to give it a go. Now, almost a year later, here I am working on my own two games!

Q3: Are your characters influenced by your identity? How?

My bisexuality doesn’t have much of a major influence on the game, but I do think it contributed to the way that I view and write relationships. I figured out my sexuality around high school (I kissed a girl in high school and found out I liked it just as much as when I kissed a boy) and since then I’ve been very involved in the LGBTQ+ community of both my hometown and uni town.

I think this involvement, like being able to hear about other people’s experiences and share my own, has made me feel a lot more comfortable writing some of the characters in the game. Although Attollo and Metamorphosis both don’t focus heavily on relationships (both have murder in them, which I feel is a bit more pressing), I do keep the option for any RO’s to be romanced by anyone, regardless of gender or preference, because that’s simply what I’ve become so attuned to. In terms of side characters relationships as well, I think my involvement and my own experiences have allowed me to write far more diverse relationships than I might have, and I think that this has also allowed a more fulfilling experience for players when reading through.

I also have incorporated some struggles that I’ve faced before because of my identity into the games. For example, I and a few others have faced issues with religion due to who we are, and I incorporate this into both games. Dreamwalker, Pariah, and Sysba from Attollo all have shadows of this experience in their character origins, and Ilali and Ariston from Metamorphosis has a major point involving identity and beliefs. Both games also have undertows of ostracization and division between groups, which is also something I’ve experienced in the past. Being able to grapple these moments and control them via a narrative has been eye opening for both myself and others involved, and I’m hoping it can be a learning experience for the readers as well.

Q4: What would you like to see more of in LGBT+ fiction?

I think, now, the amount of progress in LGBTQ+ fiction is expanding at a wonderful rate. There are so many interactive fictions with options to select sexuality, select gender, select beliefs, etc. However, despite this expansion, there’s still a good deal of backlash against some aspects of LGBTQ+ fiction.

For example, as a bisexual woman who has dated men, I know there are some individuals who may not consider me a part of the LGBTQ+ because of this aspect. Not only is this incredibly disheartening, but it’s a viewpoint that I think should be educated against, and fiction is a fantastic pathway to do this. Another example I can think of is a friend of mine who identifies as asexual but is sex-neutral rather than sex-repulsed. Most people can’t believe her when she says this, and she often faces backlash for this declaration as well. This is another thing that I think that, with exposure through a medium such as fiction, can be worked on.

What I’m trying to say here is that I think LGBTQ+ fiction can be a brilliantly educational platform—if used right. Although it already teaches so much with what it has, I think having that representation of different subgroups of sexuality, of their experiences and beliefs, so people can become aware and knowledgeable of these options, is something I’d like to see more of.

Q5: What or who are some of your biggest inspirations?

Oh man, I struggled to list off inspirations because I know I have some, but as soon as someone asks me who they are my brain just goes ‘brrrrrr’ LMAO.

In terms of the games that I write and the worlds that I build, I think David Lynch and Robert Chambers are probably the two that I somehow incorporate. Attollo and Metamorphosis both have a lot of surrealist horror, which are what these two really specialized in. Shirley Jackson is also another person who inspired me a lot when it came to the writing and creation of Attollo, especially the intrapersonal relationships between the characters.

In terms of life, this is something else I really struggle to answer. I don’t really have celebrity inspirations or anything like that, but I do get inspired by my close friends and sister a lot. Seeing them go through the struggles that they face and absolutely thrive really drives me to push through my own struggles. They’re the strongest, most brilliant group of people that I know, and I consider myself incredibly fortunate that I can be a part of their lives. Not only that, but we also all collectively encourage each other to push further and to chase our dreams (as cheesy as that is LMAO) and that’s something that I think is another stroke of good fortune. I struck gold when I met them, and they’re some of the biggest inspirations in my life.

Q6: What’s a super vague spoiler for your current project?

For Attollo, I’d say ‘Home is where the heart is.’ For Metamorphosis, to quote John Berendt, ‘Always stick around for one more drink.’

Q7: Lastly, what advice would you give to your readers?

What advice would I give to you all? Oh my, I’m not exactly a wise woman here, but I’ll do my best to give you something lmaooo. I think what I really want you to walk away with, from both my stories and this interview, is that if you’re passionate about something, then share it with the world. Don’t let anyone deter your passion.

I remember listening to this painter once who commented to his friend how he ‘really liked painting’, and his friend’s first response was ‘but are you good at it?’. He then compared this to the scenario of walking; would you say, ‘but are you good at it?’ to someone who said, ‘I really like walking’? No, because it simply wouldn’t make sense, and it doesn’t make sense to say that to anyone who’s doing something out of passion.

To put it simply—if you love something, then don’t let anyone take that passion from you. I began writing these stories because I’m passionate about Attollo and Metamorphosis; I love each character, each bit of lore, and I share it with you because I want you all to enjoy it as well. Am I the best writer? God, no. Does everyone like what I write? Definitely not. But will I let this stop me from writing, from enjoying what I’m doing? Never, and I want you to do the same.

Explore your passions, embrace your passions, and let what makes you happy continue to do so