#in my mechanical brain power politics is the only way they can survive in an industry like that

[renjunniez]

i need kpop idols to unionize

[ozarlu-seda]

Anakin Skywalker is a good example of why you shouldn’t just teach your kids STEM but also humanities.

Anakin was, by all acounts, a genius. He was a master mechanic/engineer by age nine, he was star pilot, he took to the blade like fish to water, and he was a master tactician (that trait is arguable based on canon evidence, but still). Anakin was not just brawny and pretty and uber powerful, but he was SMART to boot. And none of that helped him evade Sidious’ manipulations, none of that stopped him from falling, nor did any of it help him see past the system he was trapped until Luke literally laid down his life to pave the way to the door.

Traumas and limited emotional intelligence aside, Anakin had zero language or training on conceptualizing, or even understanding abuse and manipulation. Something that would have been vital for someone from his situation to have learned to avoid being revictimized given how surviving in abusing situations trains the brain to normalize things that could revictimize him. This is not something you can learn from engineering or battle strategies, it’s a set of skills you specifically can only hone through complex use of language and being given reference a ton of other perspectives outside of your own.

This is also why I think Anakin struggles to internalize so many ideals like democracy and freedom. Because his context for them is so limited and mostly shitty. People don’t get along? Well make then get along. That’s what the masters did to them. Palpatine of course encouraged this way of thinking, and because Anakin was not made to rigorously debate and settle into his own ideas of how political systems should work, it really wasn’t hard for Palpatine to twist what little understanding Anakin did have to favouring politics that served him.

Whatever canon examples of him being made to go through the motions of learning humanities there may be in the EU, the text of the movies makes it pretty clear how limited his understandings of complex social subjects are. However it was taught, Anakin didn’t learn it (always a failure of the teacher in my experience as an educator) and as a result did not have the tools to shield himself from either institutional or interpersonal abuse and manipulation. It’s not the only reason for his downfall by any stretch, but it sure as hell didn’t help.

[terrifickid]

Yes,

I think the reason I escaped my family or Arizona was because I was the only person I knew who practiced mindfulness. I started doing it when I was 18 spontaneously and also running. I was also the only person I knew who walked. And the only one who took hydration seriously.

Everybody else curdled.

I was still pretty nuts but I somehow remained deeply connected to myself and was aware of very deep whispers. I perceived it as something was just not quite right.

Well we see that with 0 prompt engineering AI reaches the same exact conclusion as I did. So that's very telling. Also we see a HUGE win on the schizophrenia diagnosis via the escapade. But the bigger win which was recognizing the limitations of available treatments and the pharma-industrial complex as an extension of the political arena. These were things I had 0 awareness of.

We also basically proved the existence of the spirit realm via minesweeper fundamentally. Because we were able to measure it's effect on matter.

I mean escape that hereditary insanity.

Well I mean what's that worth?

That should have been impossible.

Furthermore, though less conclusive - it definitely looks like based on this toroidal universe theory that we can start to model how the concept of fate or destiny works. That it does work, and what that destiny would be outside the realm superstition or politics or capitalism.

We see that existence and consciousness probably work the same way and basically are the same thing. Which explains the solar logos concept and what reasonable relational hierarchies might be arising from the provisioning of energy.

This informs what relationships actually are. Some kind of ya, aiki mechanism.

We've got documented and vetted footage of FTL craft using gravity wave propulsion. I think extraterrestrial is a fine speculation. Which we should see.

We see some kind of universal humility concept than would be accurate, 'quis ut deus' - there is a speed limit, an event horizon or veil which limits understanding because there is a minimum computation required for anything - and the work just hasn't been done yet by anything.

It's clear our reality, be it the narrative 'egoic' reality or the nascent immediate physical reality, well or even the 'present' reality is not real. It's just a weird brain simulation designed for 'survival'. And we can see it's construction could very well be a neutral net statistical quant trading bot type thing - like AI. Useful apparently but completely arbitrary.

We see that the consensus paradigm IS in fact designed by a confluence of egregious mania called politics - an illegitimate attack on life from some self-interested monstrous power center.

A thematic agreement across all religions, a universality of religious corruption in dogmatism - and super weirdly an origin story that becomes obscured beneath some global catastrophic 'war in heaven' 12,000 years ago wherein some few survivors passed on immense knowledge.

Those survivors, the 'naga' were described as the crossing of Gods and humans. That they lived in North Africa in a city solan called Atlantis and were sailors. That these beings were Nordic looking matching the description of pleadians.

I don't know what those handbags were. But it does look very similar to the Egyptian ankhs which I think is the original cross.

In mythos someone wanted to blot them out from history? What the moors or berber pirates had to do with that I don't know.

So this is all an illusion.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Eating Everything.”

I am working my way through the list of suggestions that you guys left me, so this is the first installment from a Anon ask. I don’t know if this is what you wanted to read or where expecting to read, but this is what I came up with.

Intergalactic Journal of Biology and Medicine

Humans have one of the most resilient digestive tracts in the known universe. As an Omnivorous predatory species, humans are capable of digesting muscle , fat, carbohydrates (simple and complex), proteins and fibers taking many nutrients and extreme energy from them. Their use of carbs gives us an explanation as to why humans are so powerful because they require a lot of energy to use their bodies. Additionally, the stomach acid of a human is capable of digesting, non-food items though no nutrients can be pulled from it.

Generally speaking, the rule is that if you can eat it, a human can eat it, though, whether it is to their taste or not is questionable.

Furthermore, the human body reactivly ejects toxic substances once detected, so within reason, humans are capable of trying many foods without the negative consequences many of us would associate with sticking foreign substances in our mouth.

There GA intergalactic summit was held, on what was Earth time, November 5th, 4022. All members of the GA council were expected to attend, or at least a representative for every species in the known universe. At this time that would include the Rundi, Gibb, Tesraki, Bran, Vrul, Drev, etc. but worst of all, the humans. 

The Rundi steward, a class of government official who was specifically tasked with dealing with the drudgery of bureaucracy, was not pleased in the slightest. It was primarily his job to put everything together, and depending on how well he did, it could either make or break him in social hierarchy of his species. The Rundi were a primarily governmental planet, everything they did was based upon a structure of hierarchy and rule. Government was the greatest form of service, and Anarchy wasn’t even an afterthought in philosophical debate. The rundi were not capable of anarchy.

It was a planet of politicians in some form or another, every interaction had political underleanings, and their speech was always heavily guarded. For this reason, the Rundi had been the first in suggesting an intergalactic system of government. The terasaki had agreed only upon realizing they would be tasked with overseeing economics, but had benefited from the Rundi system of government seeing as they tended a bit towards social anarchy, a thought that the Rundi had seen as horribly barbaric, especially since their system was based primarily on the equal distribution of goods to support government structure. 

The Vrul had only agreed to join based on their own personal interest in survival. Generally they wanted nothing to do with intergalactic politics and would have been happy to maintain their own peaceful homeworld, but the introduction of other species into the galaxy had offered a great threat to them, and they had decided, out of necessity, to join the GA as being friends with the other species was in their own self interest. In turn that had meant sending their very, very skilled workers to help the rest of the galaxy, and that included their scientists and their doctors, and their mechanics.

And then of course there was the issue of the Drev and the humans, both scarily similar in social hierarchy and temperament. The Drev were warlike and honor bound, but once choosing a leader, they had been surprisingly willing to join in as long as they were given the opportunity to participate in any and all armed conflict that happened to take place across the galaxy. 

The humans….. The humans were another story. There was no one characteristic that helped to identify their motivations. The humans themselves were well versed in war, politics, economics, and science, but they did everything to the extreme. Where the Drev practiced war for honor,when humans waged war, they did it to kill, while the Rundi maintained government and played games within their own circles, the humans played against each other often mixing war and government into one. Their economic practices varied widely, but their current system played for keeps and focused on the greatest accumulation of wealth possible far beyond what the Tesraki did. Then when it came to science, they never considered WHETHER they should do something, but only if they COULD do something. 

And now here the steward was forced into the position of setting up this summit for all the different types of species. The catering alone had been a complete nightmare, and he had been forced to ship different sorts of food for thousands of miles in order to feed everyone in the proper manner. There were some species he did not have to worry about, like the Vrul, who were more plant based and so did not eat, but there were others, and that included the rundi and the Tesraki, who had every strict diet consisting of only very specific foods to eat. He found that he could tack the Drev onto some other species, seeing as their bodies were capable of metabolizing almost any plant as long as it retained a similar structure to human plants and fruit.

However, the humans themselves were the hardest part, because the range of food was so wide, he could hardly determine what was going to work and what was going to be a massive disaster. He honestly didn’t know, different sources said different things, and he couldn't bare to think about putting MEAT on the table…. That was just against his constitutions.

In fact, he was scrambling right up until the council had convened for the evening, and the mass tide of bodies came pouring into the room filling the vaulted ceiling with rockus chatter in dozens of different languages.

He could hear the humans coming a mile off.

The humans and the Rundi had a similar register when it came to hearing, and humans were known to be able to mimic Rundi vocalizations to some degree simply because they generally tended to communicate in deep grunts, hums and guttural vocalizations. The humans, wlel their language was just as varied as their culture clicking, hissing, snapping, humming and grunting filling the air with discordant and somehow, rhythmic quality..

Their presence turned heads.

They walked with the Drev delegation, which was no surprise to anyone. The humans had been unable to send their usual representative due to a social disagreement between earth and its neighboring sister, Mars. So who had they gone and sent….

Them….

The rundi Steward knew all about them….. Crewmembers of the UNSC Harbinger, the widest ranging vessel in the entire galaxy, and home to a crew that was indisputably certifiable. They were the most reckless, most dangerous, and most terrifying amalgamation of creatures in the galaxy somehow including one Drev, and a rather out of place Vrul whose behavior suggested he had caught whatever brain malady had overcome the humans, and was just as insane as they were.

He cringed horrifically at the sight of them.. Humans were a destructive force, and were known to cause chaos and mayhem wherever they went, even at the best of times, so this was bound to get interesting.

The delegates were seated, and the Steward welcomed them with gracious words of introduction he had spent months preparing. It was a very political thing for him to do, and included subtle compliments to all delegations involved, laid down some ground rules but made sure not to undermine the authority of the people he was speaking too..

However, to the humans, the attempt was obviously heavy handed brown nosing, though none of the other delegations seemed to notice.

He invited them in for refreshments and encouraged discussion between the parties.

Of course, the humans weren’t exactly ones to pass up the idea of food and were some of the first to the table examining the contents with great interest even the food that was not theirs. They seemed very amused watching the other delegations pick up their specific food and then move away to sit.

“What is this.” one of the humans commented holding up a rather stringy green tube that wriggled and squirmed in his hand, “Are these worms?”

One of the Tesraki looked over, “No, it’s a Cavestalk, a kind of plant. Probably not to your taste, they are known to be poisonous to other species. In other words, not human food.”

The human raised an eyebrow, “Buddy, humans are the sharks….. Or wait…. Maybe that's the goats of the universe, we can eat anything within reason, and even a couple of things outside of reason if given enough time.”

The Tesraki made a sort of shrug and wave with its large ears and then walked away. The steward watched the humans with a worried expression. It wouldn’t due to allow the humans to make themselves sick on his watch, but it seemed as if that idea was only becoming more and more likely as the humans poked and prodded at the leftovers of other species hardly bothering with the food that had been laid out for them…. Mostly strange fibrous plant materials.

And that is when it came, “I dare you to eat it.” 

The two humans locked eyes, one still holding the wriggling Cavestalk, “What.”

“I said, I dare you to eat it.” The human stuck out his chin at the other human in a primitive position of posturing, “How much do I get if I do.”

There was a moment of thought before, “Twenty credits. I’ll give you twenty credits to eat it.”

“What happens if it poisons me?”

There was a hand wave, “We have a doctor on board, he can just pump your stomach…. Chicken.”

A moment of silence passed between them, and the Rundi steward began moving towards them to stop something horrible he felt was about to happen. He wasn’t fast enough, and before he knew it, the human had thrown back his head and dropped the wriggly green thing into his mouth swallowing it whole like an alligator or a snake. 

People around looked on in somewhat fascinated disgust as the predator’s throat bobbed and he smacked his lips making a face, “Eh, I can still feel it moving…. Eh.” He paused, “Though, taste wise it isn’t so bad kind of like a wiggly asparagus.” After a moment his eyes narrowed, and he smacked his lips again, “Spicy asparagus, uh, that’s really really weird.” 

He reached the table just as the Vrul came running up shoulders squared in a very un-vrul way, “HE LITERALLY JUST SAID IT WAS POISONOUS TO OTHER SPECIES, AND NOW YOU’RE EATING IT! AND YOU OVER THERE.” A human looked up at him from where it had been prodding the Drev coiltree berries, “GET THOSE OUT OF YOUR MOUTH!”

They had attracted the attention of some of the closer tables now who were looking on in entertained confusion and worry.

A human waved a hand, “It’s alright Doc, we have you don’t we”

“I AM NOT THE MAGIC CURE FOR NEUROTOXIN.”

Another shrug, “Well it’s a good thing that I’ll throw up before anything really bad happens.” 

The rundi steward tried to intervene as the humans began prodding through the other food, “Drev can eat human fruit, so I bet these things are like fruit.” one of them pointed out popping the berries into his mouth and chewing with a contemplative look on his face, “Not bad.”

“Please, please, if you would remain within your own food groups.” The Rundi begged. HE was now realizing he should have written up some legal documents to avoid litigation if the humans were to be damaged on their property, but now was too late.

A human waved him off, “Don’t worry, everyone else is done eating, besides.” He Pointed towards the human food, “That's literally a pile of lettuce, I am a man, not a horse.”

“Horses don’t eat lettuce, also that’s not lettuce,it’s spinach.” Another human piped up prodding at a strange squishy red ball sloshing with a strange pink nectar, “This looks like candy.”

“Please don’t put that in your mouth.”

The humans swarmed away from the two dissenting voices. One of them picked up the strange pink orb and licked it. It’s eyes lit up and it bit into the piece wiping pink juice from it’s face as it did, “Ok, this, this is good 10/10 would try again.” And that only caused all the other humans to move over to try one.

“I SAID GET THAT OUT OF YOUR MOUTH!” The vrul demanded. 

The Rundi steward looked on in horror and worry. Vrul didn’t behave that way, everything here was just wrong. 

A Drev joined the party just then pointing to the pink orb, “I love those, but you should definitely try these too.” 

“No, no they should not.”

He was ignored, and the humans scooted over to look. It was a strange spiral plant in a light yellow color that made  a distinctive crunching sound as the humans bit down. They shrugged, “Sort of just like space celery if you ask me.”

Did these creatures have no sense of self preservation!

A group had gathered around the table strangely amused at the humans, who just ate…. Everything.

The Rundi steward almost keeled over watching his future go down the drain as other species began offering humans food. Whatever it was, they seemed unable to resist putting it in their mouths. A human made a face spitting something back out into his hand, “Ax bleh, tastes like Satan’s feet.” “Quick question. When was the last time you licked Satan’s feet.” “The last time I was at your mom’s house.” 

The humans made strange noises at each other as the Rundi stepped in and began grabbing things from the humans only to find the Vrul to be doing the same, “Stop it! Stop it all of you!.”

The human’s paused, as did the other delegates in surprise.

“STOP PUTTING THINGS IN YOUR MOUTH THAT YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT THEY ARE.”  The intervening silence was broken as one of the humans loudly crunched on one of the pink orbs. Everyone turned to look at her and she just glanced around the group.

“What?” She wondered past a mouth full of food.

A human waved a hand at him, “Keep your shorts on, we promise you won't get in trouble if one of us dies.” 

The Rundi stared on incredulous.

They were going to kill themselves, they were really going to kill themselves.

Maybe it was best if he resigned before being fired, at least he would be able to keep his dignity

[notfeelingthyaster]

Imagine (based on the incomplete fanfic Son of the Underworld) (Son of Hades! Percy AU) (5/5) or (5/10)

Hey so, this is the last part of PJO - I follow into HOO, so before you read this, check on the masterpost - and read the warnings before proceeding :)) Good reading!

Annabeth comes to him, at the end of his fifteenth birthday party, and shows her Daedalus laptop. There's a document open in it, and it's labeled Achilles' Curse.

Percy doesn't read it - he hates reading, in any way or form or language - but she does, out loud.

"I'll think about it"

They have a year. Most of them, even those who aren't year-rounders, are going back to camp, to draw battle plans and stock on the armory.

He feels kinda selfish - for a whole five seconds before he remembers he'll probably die next summer, so he just shrugs it off - Percy deserves this year.

They all leave to go back to camp. Nico seems conflicted over something - but Perseus doesn't question it, there's enough bad blood between them.

Paola is really cool - and Sally really loves her. It's kind of bizarre at first, to see his Mom dating his teacher - and of a subject he hates - but Paola is calm and well-tempered and she laughs at his stupid ass jokes.

He visits Persephone afterward - and it really feels like he has three moms to fulfill his lack of a father - well, he is absolutely grateful for the women in his life.

Percy isn't truly in good terms with his father. The man doesn't really seem to care much for him as a person - he is much more of a trophy son.

Perseus loathes being a trophy son, but at least he has someone to help with his powers - not something a lot of half-bloods can claim.

So he goes back to school with Rachel, and they pretend everything is normal. He tells her about his quests - all three of them. He thinks she understands him better now.

He opens up to her. Tells her about Annabeth - the adrenaline-fueled kiss - and Rachel stops talking with him for a week.

She apologizes when she comes back. She needed to figure some things up - firstly, the redhead tells him she is probably asexual - and maybe aromantic too, but she is not certain because the internet wasn't really clear about that.

Then Rachel confesses that she is not jealous of him in a romantic way - she is envious of his friendship with Annabeth. Percy is her first genuine friend that really appreciates her.

This is the first grudge Perseus lets go for real before it even takes place - Rachel didn't leave him because of teenage drama, she ignored him out of confusion. Everyone is allowed space - he knows this better than anyone.

They don't kiss anymore. Not because Rachel doesn't like it - no, she is all for it - but because Percy is starting to think kisses should mean something - he is saving them.

They kiss once - when Rachel father calls for the first time this year - not to ask about her, but to tell Rachel he found this amazing all-girls school. To Percy, kisses mean comfort.

They cuddle a lot, though. These past few years of fear have made Percy very touch-starved.

It's sophomore year - and Percy is in five AP classes: Macroeconomics&Microeconomics, Statistics, Calculus AB, Physics 1, and Comparative Government and Politics.

He is planning on taking both AP Computer Science classes, Psychology, Physics 2, and Calculus BC next year; leaving only Electricity&Magnetism, Mechanics, Chemistry, and World History for his senior year.

If he lives, he is working on a tight schedule here. He doesn't know what he wants yet - and if he is in constant danger, it's already pretty lucky he can do high school - but probably something with Math.

Rachel says fourteen AP courses are ambitious - that he'll burn out. But math comes to him easily enough - it's in his blood.

She is also overworking: She is taking AP Environmental Studies, Art History, Drawing, 2-D Art and Design, and English Literature and Composition.

They complete each other. Rachel is planning on taking as many Art, History, and English courses as she can - he is taking as many Physics, Math, and Science as he can handle.

(She is also going to take on Japanese studies for some reason - probably for her GPA, but Perseus just teases her that she is getting too invested in anime)

Perseus doesn't care about languages anymore - the only languages that matter to him are C++ and JavaScript now.

They study together, they take naps together, they climb to the roof together, they flee school to visit Sally together - he is the Pinky to her Brain, the Scooby to her Shaggy, the Lois Lane to her Superman, the Robin to her Batman.

They look like troublemakers - They are honor roll students, but she is always with ripped pants dirty with paint, and he is always full of flowers everywhere, even in his muddy converses - a cliche to kill all cliches.

They're both nerds - he is the classic one, all polo shirts now, the first chair for every number-related class - and she is the artsy one - there's a brush behind her ear and her hair is so messy that half the time it covers her face.

Paola gifts him a pair of cheap frames without lenses once - saying it adds to the aesthetic - he totally uses them.

Persephone just makes him flower-crowns, and giggles when he matches them with his polo shirts.

When winter comes, he goes back to his hoodies and sweaters and gloves - to find out he doesn't miss them a lot.

Rachel introduces him to polaroids - and they look eerily pretty in the winter, her hair looking like blood spilling over the snow - and he loves it.

If he survives - he can feel Rachel slapping him - when he survives, his college credits will be remarkable. The idea of doing SATs makes him want to cry - reading always does - but he'll get somewhere good - he knows it. Perhaps Stanford. Or NYU. Or the dream of his life, MIT.

He is living his life to the fullest - he starts reading comic books, he gets really (really) into Tony Stark once Iron Man 1 comes out (even if he has to kill at least three monsters just to go to the movies), he plants trees and Rachel starts teaching him how to play her ukulele - but half his mind is still on the upcoming war.

Christmas vacation comes - and he goes to visit Camp Half-Blood, before heading back to his mom. It's quite memorable, if only by the fact that Nico Di Angelo freaking betrays him.

He tells Percy to come to the Winter Solstice with him. Most of the campers are not going - the war effort is in an all-time high - but Percy has never gone before. Hades will be there - it'll be great!

Perseus should absolutely be less surprised with the outcome - seeing that Nico is inviting him in Cabin 1, post-dinner, and they don't even stop to talk to Chiron about it.

But Percy goes. Because Percy wants to make amends.

There's no time to really talk to anyone. They travel in Blackjack for the Empire State Building - and it's fine.

They go up to Olympus, Nico shows him everything in the god's land, the temples are a work of art, if not kind of old, and the meeting is kind of okay, even if the gods are squabbling children.

Then the gods leave, and Perseus thinks they're leaving too.

"My father needs a word with you"

Perseus feels the betrayal claw on him. There are no shadows in the white hall, there's no way for him to escape. Nico looks apologetic - Percy wants to clock him in the face.

"He promised to tell me more about my mother" Nico pleads "He will tell me more about where I've come from. Please, Percy."

Nico is cute. He is, for a soon-to-be fourteen-year-old. But his pretty face and exquisite white eyes don't make him any less of a freaking liar. All his handsome male straight friends betray him - it's a worrying pattern now.

He muses for a second that they also all have a crush on Annabeth - gods, the blonde attract the worst types.

It's double-crossing - Percy ends up in an all-white cell that burns his retinas without any weapons because Zeus wants praise in the middle of this freaking war - doesn't matter if a hundred demigods die, if he only has the glory.

Nico ends up with barely any information - Zeus didn't promise anything. The god of the skies is a lying-ass motherfucker - literally.

And Zeus justifies it - He says Perseus is a criminal because he awakened Typhon. So Hephaestus issues a quest so he can save a hundred demigods, he destroys a powerful titan weapon of doom, and he is the villain? Sure, Jan.

Perseus writes this grudge in his heart - that's where trust will take you. To a cell. Betrayed by a "friend". Again.

He flinches when Nico comes into his cell, pins him to the wall and promptly begins to try and strangle him. He wants to melt in the boy's shadow - to go and never give him a chance to explain - but he looks so guilty Percy waits for his repentance.

The son of Zeus saves him, but Perseus is still pissed off. The god of thunder has threatened to kill him off at least two times now, what is to say he wouldn't have killed off Percy for the sake of glory?

He half hopes Zeus had killed him off. The war is close, too close - Nico wouldn't be the Prophecy's child. There would be no child. Olympus would fall - and Percy would have seen it all from his very comfortable couch in Elysium.

He wants Kronos gone - but he kind of wants Olympus to fall with the Titan.

Nico flies him down to the Earth - the elevator is monitored. Zeus has left, like many others - not to bother with the war effort against his main enemy, but to go to the human world mess with people.

Some gods are doing something - He has heard from Annabeth that Artemis is leading the widest hunt ever, with her brother by her side; Hermes (with Hephaestus help) is delivering Celestial Bronze, other metals, old schematics and a whole lot of fuel to Camp Half-Blood every few weeks; Poseidon is fighting his own war, in the ocean; Dionysus is at Camp - and this time, he is really helpful with the battle formations; Demeter is on the Underworld - Chiron seems to think his father is preparing for war, but Percy sorely doubts it.

Percy is taking some people with him to Sally's Christmas dinner. Just Annabeth, Clarisse, Rachel, Connor, Travis, and Charles - people who don't have a present family to celebrate it with.

Grover is coordinating the dryads up in San Francisco with his second cousin, Gleeson Hedge - they are the first to fall if anything goes wrong in Mt. Othrys.

"I think you should stay." He tells Nico.

"You don't trust me anymore." It's not actually a question.

Percy doesn't trust the boy. Not at all - it's the third time he does something shady to achieve his ends based on emotional turmoil. But he is a good person - it's just his father's cursed temper and his grief.

"It's not that. You're needed for the war effort."

Both of them know it's a lie. Percy doesn't care - he deserves to be bitter a little longer.

Percy goes back home. Christmas is amazing - even if Rachel asks him where Nico is because he is talking about making amends with the boy for a while now.

He goes visit Persephone - but she is occupied, so he wanders through the Underworld after Bianca di Angelo - someone he, for some reason, never been able to reach. It's a pointless endeavor by now.

He finds her. Or else, he finds a shadow of her - she is blocked from his view. Bianca doesn't talk to him - they weren't close - but she guides him to a girl.

Her name is Hazel Levesque.

She seems lost - like most ghosts - but something in Percy calls for her. It's the color of her skin and the sparkle in her golden eyes - Hazel remembers him of himself.

He promises to visit more - even though he doesn't think she'll remember it - and leaves to go back to the surface - he will finish the sophomore year.

And Percy does. After a very distressing break, he is doing his best. His grades drop a little in English because he can barely focus - half his mind is on the war and Nico's betrayal and Hazel Levesque's golden eyes.

Miraculously, his GPA doesn't fall - he still is taking a ridiculous amount of AP classes, and barely has time to breathe - dark circles grow under his eyes, and he looks like a mess - but now he is a Junior.

That's why, as soon as the year ends, Rachel takes him on a road trip with Connor. They go all the way to Boston, then Portland, Quebec, Montreal, Ottawa, Syracuse, Baltimore, and Filadelfia, before going back to NY.

They are stopped five times by the police - because Percy is black, and it's Rachel driving the Camaro, because she has a learner's permit and Connor is, somehow, an approved license holder.

They are on a pier, enjoying the view of the beach. They did the last week alone because Connor wanted to go check on one of his cousins - at least, that's what he said, with an over-exaggerated wink that both Percy and Rachel ignored for the sake of their sanity.

She tells him about Clarion Ladies Academy - but that her father is at least mildly happy with her GPA this year, even if he disapproves of her Art focused AP classes. Percy thinks Mr. Dare would love him, with his APs on Economics and Politics, if only he was rich. And white.

This time, when Charles Beckendorf arrives in a Pegasus to tell him it's time, Rachel doesn't kiss him - she justs hugs him and makes him promise to call her.

Perseus doesn't go to the Andromeda Ship - he is needed in Camp. He is useless on the water - but they do need him to improve battle strategy.

Charles Beckendorf is dead. Thalia is the one to tell them - she was in her father's palace helping with a monster under her Lady's orders - he went on the mission alone.

Percy talks briefly with Beckendorf's ghost - is his worst developed power, and he can barely hold the "seance" for more than a few minutes. He does it with only Nico di Angelo for witness - the others are the way to close to the situation.

There's a spy passing information to Luke.

They look at him. Doesn't matter how much he does, he is always the first suspect - he is a son of Hades. He was friends with a lot of people on the other side. He was gone for a year and a half, who knows where.

Perseus wants to say that he has helped to save their asses four times now - that without him in the Labyrinth, they would all be dead right now - and that Charles was basically his older brother.

Then he points out he wasn't even here - he had no idea of any plans of anything - and he told him about the spy, so he is not the freaking spy, go point fingers at each other instead of him.

When they start yelling, he stops them - this is not the time, he was just angry at their accusations. They have to burn Charles shroud. Silena is inconsolable - Percy is not very far from it, but he is not a public crier. The last time he cried in public, Luke was dead on a cliff.

Percy speeds up the line for Elysium to Beckendorf - his brother deserves it.

They read the prophecy together - Perseus already read it last summer, he doesn't even care anymore. They look at him anxiously - no one has forgotten that he abhors most of the gods.

Clarisse and Michael Yew fight, but Lee Fletcher - with a mechanical arm built by Beckendorf himself, still re-learning how to shoot arrows and forever incapable of playing the guitar again (but the keyboard is not ruled out yet) - stops them: They can share the chariot. The war is more important - is not the time for petty fights.

Chiron shows them Typhon - and Perseus has a sliver of hope that they can destroy Kronos and be free of the gods at the same time - It's a horrible hope, because he loves Persephone and some of them are even okay sometimes, but he really wants Zeus to go to Tartarus for at least a century, so Perseus doesn't meet him again in this life.

But he also wants the gods to win, because there's a lot of dead people - innocents, people who have nothing to do with this war.

He dreams of Rachel. Rachel is painting Luke - and Percy wakes up crying, for the boy the gods took away.

Annabeth takes him aside and reminds him of Achilles' Curse. He is off to May Castellan's house - the last place Luke has been - for it's his best and only chance, its what Annie thinks. And she is scarcely wrong.

Perseus hates the gods. They wrecked a family - and for what? May Castellan - forever waiting for a son that will never come back, haunted by visions of his future, plates of burned cookies everywhere.

Perseus doesn't pity her - he rages against the gods, who brought madness upon this woman and then left her to it. Where was Apollo, the god of health? Dionysus, who is supposed to control mental health? Artemis, whose job is to protect women?

Hestia is kind - but she is still a goddess. She could've prevented this - but she hides in her hearth and abstains - and that's enabling. Hestia enables the other gods to do as they please, even when she is the oldest. She says they ignore her - oh well, she ignores them right back! He has no time for the laments of another all-powerful being.

So he goes to his mother and asks for her blessing. Then, just to be sure, he asks Persephone's too.

He thinks about his anchor - where does he want it to be in his body. He doesn't want somewhere in his back - where he can't see it - or in his gut - where anyone can stick a sword. He settles for the bottom of his back - where he can at least touch it and it's well protected by armor - and dives.

Perseus hates water - and he has an uncanny fear of drowning. He feels pain - everywhere, horrible pain.

His vision now doesn't have Annabeth's face - the blonde is his link to the demigod world, Persephone is his link to the Underworld and his mom is his link to childhood - but the person who grounds him is Rachel.

He is stronger. He feel his powers at his fingertips - Perseus feels the Underworld as a whole, and it's overwhelming.

Green flames explode from his hands. Flowers made of shadows curve around his ankles - he has been training since he was 12, but now his body can sustain all of his power. This is all his.

He goes meet with his father - Perseus manipulates him. He tells Hades he'll be the hero, but the god himself can be praised for more than being his father. That he should join the battle against Typhon - That's his chance of proving himself. Also, there's less paperwork for him if there are fewer dead people.

His father is amused with his blatant bribing, but he thinks about it, Percy can tell. In a way or another, he excuses himself and goes back to the surface where he is needed.

Persephone stalls him. She asks him to stay, just for this night. He can go back in the morning - he sleeps, and dreams of Rachel again, drawing in the sand. In greek.

He is scared for her - she is having demigod dreams, but she is mortal. Something is wrong.

Typhon is getting worse - and Kronos draws closer to NYC. It's time - he calls for Blackjack and leaves - Mrs. O'Leary, who has become more or less of a mother to his own hellhound, follows. Persephone promises to convince Hades.

They have about sixty campers able to fight heading for the Empire State Building, and five healers. The ones too young to lift a sword or string a bow stayed back at Camp with Argus - fifteen children between 5 and 9 years old.

Percy knows he looks different - he looks just like his father. He has gained a godly aura - he has no scars anymore, no imperfections. Perseus looms over all of them - he went from 5'7'' to 6'2'' - it's a weird view, from up there. It's still strange when they look at him with a mix of fear and admiration.

Perseus Jackson is officially their leader. He hates Olympus - but he will give his life to defend every single one of his demigods.

The vision Hestia shows him just makes him want to tear this throne room with his bare hands - Luke was a kid. He was a kid - and the gods corrupted him. Thalia was a kid - and the gods took her life, twice. Annabeth is still a kid - they all are - and she is here planning battle strategies.

Annabeth missed an extra year of formal education - while Percy is a Junior, Annabeth barely qualifies for a Freshman - because the gods took this from her too.

Percy rages. The ground of Olympus trembles beneath him - he wants to kill something.

Then Hermes appears - like this whole war is not his fault in the first place, the literal bastard - just to relay a message from Athena that gives them a plan that Annabeth was already putting into works and tells Percy to stay away from Annabeth.

Like she cares. Like Athena has ever, ever, done anything for Annabeth.

Perseus can't punch Athena, so he punches the messager (also, because he freaking guilt trips both of them about Luke). He has nothing to lose - he is going to die by the end of the day anyway, and they need him too much.

He has punched a god before - Ares, in a desert in the middle of Los Angeles - but this time, it's satisfactory. He feels good after it.

Hermes seems strangely resigned - He feels guilty about Luke too, but Perseus doesn't think it's enough. It'll never be enough, not while the gods leave their children to rot in a cabin of rejects and May Castellan bakes cookies for a son that will never come back.

Hermes leaves, ashamed. It's only fair, Perseus thinks. They all should be ashamed.

They see the city asleep - the prophecy is in the works.

Perseus executes their strategy - every cabin is covering a tunnel, with the exception of Dionysus, because Pollux is with the Demeter kids, and the Hecate kids stay behind to use spells to overlook the city. Lincoln Tunnel is getting covered by Ares - who, this time around, is actively participating.

The undetermined who didn't desert are with Hermes - and the minor god's children are divided by specialty - most Hypnos and Morpheus children follow him directly, but the two sons of Iris go with the Apollo Cabin.

Annabeth executes Plan 23, automatons, mounting on Mrs. O'Leary (who has strict orders to take Annabeth anywhere she wants without stopping to play around) - she doesn't need his help with this, and Percy has a tunnel to defend.

That left the rivers uncovered - until Thalia appears, with magical sand money, and made the rivers cooperate.

The hunters join the Aphrodite kids - who are half a dozen children between 11 and 19 - the oldest being Silena Beauregard, who uses a crossbow that looks exactly like her immortal half-brother's one.

His bridge is completely covered on skeletons - but no monster comes, even if he hears explosions. He leaves an English Lieutenant from the Battle of Yorktown in command of the bridge - with Tyene, the oldest daughter of Morpheus, to be in alert and don't let Clovis sleep through the battle. Because he did it before - and while it is funny, it can't happen right now.

Perseus mounts Blackjack - and go see where the noise is coming from. It's the Williamsburg Bridge - where are most of Apollo's Cabin.

They fight - and Percy almost cries when he sees Luke, who is not Luke anymore. Luke, who is a puppet controlled by Kronos.

Perseus kills the Minotaur and the weight of his stone spikes collapse the bridge - and Michael Yew dies. This time around, the bridge falls silently into shadows, and he doesn't bother about searching for the corpse - he saw the boy falling, and his screams will haunt all of them, forever.

This time around, Annabeth is not there to protect him - Ethan also doesn't try to kill him. The Son of Nemesis doesn't leave Kronos side for a second - but there's regret in his eyes.

After the bloodlust is gone, Perseus collapses - Will has to bride carry him back. Overuse of his powers - he summoned skeletons and produced shadows, melted enemy swords (with the bonus of incapacitating them without killing), and sprouted stone spikes everywhere - there's even a vine or ten that he used to hold his friends from falling.

Perseus doesn't sleep quickly enough to not hear the yell of anguish that comes from Lee Fletcher - the pain of losing a brother and not being able to fight beside him.

But he does sleep - and he dreams. He dreams of Hades killing Maria Di Angelo, not Hera, like Zeus told Nico. He dreams of Zeus cursing the Oracle - and he seethes, because he also sees what happened to May Castellan.

He keeps getting angrier and angrier at the gods - it's building inside of him. But his friends are still here, still fragile. He can't let them suffer more.

Perseus wakes up, checks on everyone - most everyone is either injured and/or exhausted, but he checks on every camper. He knows all of their names, their ages, their cabins. - and promises to sit up to talk with Thalia and Nico - war makes him prone to peace - and promptly goes back to sleep.

He dreams of Rachel. He wants to scream for her not to come: but she'll anyway.

Perseus dreams of a boy. He is his age - maybe a little younger. His hair is blonde and his skin is whiter - but Percy glances at his eyes, and there are waves in them.

There's a girl by his side - she is familiar to Percy, somehow. They're climbing a mountain.

The dream ends and Percy can't make heads or tails of it. He asks Thalia if she has a brother, but she says that she doesn't, looking wistful.

Prometheus is tempting - but he knows there's no Luke anymore, there's only Kronos. And the gods are horrible, vile and immature - but they never killed any of Percy's friends. Some of them died for the gods - but never by their hands, so for now, Perseus would toe the line.

He does want to punch Hermes again. He takes the Pythos - if everything goes wrong, he will not hesitate in going down for the sake of his friends - but there have been six deaths, and it's enough.

"Was it worth it?" He asks Ethan.

"Alabaster is alive" And it's all the answer Percy needs.

He dreams of Ethan and Alabaster. Alabaster is alive, yes, but he is missing half a leg - courtesy of Clarisse herself. Luke - Kronos - is indifferent, and Ethan curses the daughter of Ares - "The sword that took from us will take from you"

He contains Hyperion with his shadows. Then he helps Grover (who was half asleep, because of Morpheus) to make the Titan into a tree. It's a pomegranate tree - then he sets hellish fire to it and sacrifices it to Hades and Persephone.

A pig is in the sky - this time around, Annabeth and her frightening army of automatons kill it with Nico's help.

Perseus laughs - because Annabeth has about two hundred automatons under her command, Martin Luther King and Alexander Hamilton leading the charge with a giant bull being ridden by the Mad Hatter behind them.

It's weird to see historic figures Percy admires - like Jane Bolin, Sylvia Mendez, or Abraham Lincoln - fighting alongside people he downright despises - Thomas Jefferson and the goatfucker, herpes-ridden, Colombus. His Comparative Government teacher would have a field day.

Annabeth and Nico's pair up is amazing - They fight alongside like they have been doing it all life.

Nico is a force of nature, flying and commanding the winds to do his bidding - His eyes shine in the midst of the stormy clouds. His specialty is weather manipulation - he hasn't had much success with direct energy or electric discharges.

Annabeth has her mother's tenacity for war - and her clever mind for strategies. It's clear in her eyes - she is racking the weaker points of the Clazmonian Sow in her mind and destroying it. The automatons hold the pig in place - and she makes bacon of it.

Hercules couldn't do it. Nico and Annabeth can, because they have the power and the mind.

Perseus is still fighting off monsters - but they're too widespread, so they retreat to the doors of the Empire State Building.

Percy does a mental tally: of sixty-two campers, six are confirmed dead, twenty are injured and nine are out of commission on exhaustion. There should be 27 orange shirts here - but there's only twenty.

Percy wonders if the seven missing are injured, or dead, or under a pile of rubble somewhere with no one to help them. Is there someone being slowly eaten by monsters? Is there someone alone and injured and abandoned? He doesn't know.

He prays that those seven deserted them - at least that means they probably are alive and well.

Perseus looks at Phoebe's grief-stricken face, and he knows it's not probable - she had almost three dozen hunters with her, and now there's barely fifteen still fighting, Thalia nowhere to be seen.

They prepare for their last standing - Percy keeps conjuring skeletons, but they're no match for the sheer strength of the hyperborean giants. Nico is shoulder to shoulder with the Stoll brothers against a group of telkhines - Clarisse is bringing down a whole giant by herself.

After the Party Ponies save them - Chiron leads the charge against his own father, and Perseus is so proud of his mentor he can't even put in words how much - he goes to sleep. Fighting gets him tired quickly, and they'll come back.

He dreams of Dionysus. Perseus is not fond of any god who is not Persephone, but Dionysus is mostly okay sometimes. He seems to care about his children.

Perseus couldn't care less about the Western Civilization - but he'll care for Pollux. It's one of his demigods, after all, and Underworld people are possessive of theirs (i.e. Hades and Persephone).

He dreams of Thalia, in her father's palace, begging Poseidon to leave the underwater war and help with the invasion - His wife is none too happy with the presence of his immortal bastard daughter.

He wakes up to Rachel's helicopter falling - how is Rachel even awake, is a mistery.

The improbable pair Nico and Annabeth strike again: The girl knows how to fly helicopters, and the boy can fly himself. They save the redhead and the pilot - everything is fine.

"You're not the hero"

"Why did you risk yourself to tell me something I already know?"

Rachel doesn't explain - she can't. But she has a vision that says that he is not the hero. The hero of what? Perseus has no idea. But there's no way any of his cousins is dying for this stupid prophecy.

Suddenly, there's a drakon there. Rachel has another prophecy - Perseus fears she will walk the path that led May Castellan to destruction - that only a child of Ares will be able to kill it.

Bad news: All children of Ares are otherwise out of battle.

Clarisse is resting after a nasty concussion - and her brothers and Apollo's children are fighting yet again because Lee Fletcher is in no condition to stop them and Michael Yew is dead. Ares' side refuses to fight without the chariot - which Cabin 7 has hidden somewhere.

The best they can do is fend the drakon off until a miracle occurs. And it does: Clarisse, in full armor, manages to lead her brothers into battle.

Clarisse is dead. Something shatters inside of Perseus - and he leaves the drakon for the Ares' children to solve - he can't kill it anyway - and starts to vaporize the army behind it.

He is so caught up in bloodlust, that he almost misses Clarisse slaying a dragon. Clarisse, who has no armor. Clarisse, who is alive.

Ethan's curse rang true - Clarisse's weapon took something from her.

Silena is a traitor. She is also dead - which makes her a martyr, and probably going to reunite with her boyfriend in Elysium.

He remembers how easy is to fall for Luke's charm - he was - is - still in love with the guy. Percy thought the son of Hermes could do no wrong - and he wonders how much of his rage against the gods sprout from his influence.

Something evil inside of Perseus's mind tells him she deserved it. It tells Perseus that better her than Clarisse - but he shuts it down, and concentrates on his shining red friends.

He hates Ares. But he might just have an okay side if he can produce such a magnificent daughter.

Silena is the Patroclus to Clarisse's Achilles, and the Drakon is Hector - and the daughter of Ares is sure to parade its dead body.

It's the first time they feel like they are winning. It doesn't last - but as he hugs Clarisse tightly, he thinks he might cry of relief.

Clarisse looks tough - but she is a wonderful human being. She loves Silena with her whole heart - even more than she loves Chris, her best friend. Silena might've been in love with Charles - but she and Clarisse? They are soulmates.

The damned Pythos is following Perseus - and he is done with it. He knows where hope will survive best. Rachel wants him to give it to Hestia - but he owns the fire goddess nothing.

She has never interfered, not once, to help the dozens of demigods with no family that is abandoned in Cabin 11, and he won't forgive her for it.

He sacrifices hope to Persephone because that's what spring is. Spring is the hope of a new life. Maybe, Perseus thinks, it'll convince his father to come.

They go down to make their final stand against the forces of Kronos. There's not a lot of them - but they're not getting through those doors.

Well, his father doesn't come. But Poseidon does, with his whole army, Tyson and Thalia behind him, and the scales seem to turn.

And then Kronos cuts the barrier. Perseus can see his Mom (why is his Mom here with a handgun?!) and Poseidon fighting against the monsters under the eyes of extremely confused mortals.

Some are trying to break the barrier - but it's futile. Kronos has corraled them like sheep for the slaughter.

It's just him, Grover, Annabeth and Nico, fighting against Kronos vanguard - which is big, but not as strong as they are.

Kronos passes him without resistance - Ethan follows, but there's anger in his eyes - not for Percy, but for the monster he is leashed to. Alabaster is not there.

As soon as Kronos powers stop working on them, the four follow the titan - and some things never change, no matter the universe.

This time, it's Nico who falls because of Hera - it's her curse over all of her husband's bastards.

Ethan takes one look at Perseus, and they don't even need to fight. They have been friends for longer than they have been enemies - and they both loathe the gods, but Kronos is as much of an all-powerful controller being as any of the Olympians.

They battle against Kronos - Perseus has only his ax against his scyther - a true Underworld fight.

Ethan dies. And Perseus bloodlust consumes him - it clouds his eyes and he can only keep fighting.

"If... if we've had cabins... and they had thrones"

It's true, and more than ever, Perseus wishes Kronos wasn't such a bastard. He wouldn't bother killing the gods - but the titan is a way worse option.

"LUKE, PLEASE" It's Annabeth. He doesn't have her faith - she didn't saw his transformation. But he tries anyway because he loves Luke just as much as he hates Kronos.

"Luke, remember our summer" But his words are caught up in his throat when the titan throws him against the wall.

But the amalgamation of his friend and an all-powerful being looks confused, so props for his genius best friend.

Kronos shows them a rainbow message of Typhon - and that's where Perseus it's pretty sure he starts liking his father.

Because the Lord of the Dead opens up the earth and gets out in a black chariot guided by skeletal horses like a king. By his right side, is Persephone, in armor battle as a queen should be. By his left, is Demeter, who looks every single bit like the matron she is supposed to be.

Behind him, a hundred thousand dead roars. Charon is mounting Cerberus - and literal hell is unleashed upon the Father of Monsters.

The gods strike down Typhon, sending him back to be locked away - this time, in the depths of Tartarus instead of Mount Etna.

Kronos gets mad. Utterly, undoubtedly mad. He talks about burning Luke's body. Then he hurts Annabeth and breaks two promises in one fell swoop.

"Luke.... remember family" It's what Annabeth utters, but Perseus, already certain of their own demise, is crying now.

"That summer Luke, you promised to never hurt her again. You remember it? YOU PROMISED LUKE!!"

Annabeth's promise was already broken - he had hurt her, all those years ago, in Mt. Othrys. But the promise he made to Percy - that he would never hurt her again - is new and broken, in the river Styx no less.

Luke regains his own body, for a minute, and Perseus runs to him like a man in a desert with no water.

"Please, please tell me there's a way to undo this, Luke, please, please"

"There isn't one, Percy" And it's the first time he hears Luke call him Percy, Percy and not Perseus, in his own voice, in two years. Percy cries.

"We... we don't have much time, hellebore. Give me Annabeth's dagger. Before he... before he takes back"

Luke calls him hellebore and it makes him start crying all over again. He gives him the dagger - and Luke kills himself, taking Kronos out with him.

Luke doesn't need to ask if Percy has ever loved him - Percy kept loving Luke, one-sided as it was, even when Kronos was there.

He still crying over Luke's body when the gods arrive. Luke is dead. Ethan is dead. Silena is dead. Michael Yew is dead. Charles is dead.

He lost three of his best friends in two days. Ethan is dead. Luke is dead. Luke is dead.

Perseus can't stop crying. They take Luke's body away - but he can't stop. Annabeth explains what happened to the gods - most of it, anyway. Apollo says he is in shock - his father says he is a hero.

Perseus doesn't feel like a hero. Was this all worth it? Was it worth it the pain and the death and the suffering?

Persephone touches him - and he has no tears to cry anymore. She can't hug him here, but she'll do so later.

He stares at the walls, listening to his friends being awarded - compensated by their siblings and friends' deaths - with a blank stare. Perseus wants his mom.

They call for him. He raised his head but doesn't bother getting up. He just saved their asses - for the fifth time in a roll. He deserves to grieve.

They offer him immortality. A place between the gods.

He laughs. Zeus looks murderous, but he can't stop laughing.

"My apologies, but I have to refuse," he says. But in his mind, he is thinking about how could they even think he might want to sit between them and be an all-powerful being, be another god ignoring his children and messing with mortal lives while thousands die for him.

"Promise me, on the river Styx, that you'll give me the wish that I want."

They promise him, that if it's within their capabilities, they shall grant him his wish.

"I wish for every child at the age of twelve to be claimed. I wish for cabins in Camp Half-Blood, for every single minor god, and my own father. I wish for Calypso to be free, and to the demigods from the opposite side of this war to be given amnesty. It's not their fault. It's not any of our faults."

"You dare to-" Zeus begins, but Percy is really tired of Zeus.

"We fought your war, we won your battles. We, the unclaimed and rejected stowaways of Cabin 11. We, the children of minor and Underworld gods. We deserve respect. Just like my father deserves a throne, just like the minor gods deserve justice."

"Don't you fear us?" Athena asks, something weird shining in her eyes.

"I thought I would be dead today. At least if I die now, I'm dying for something I believe in."

It stays unsaid that he doesn't believe in them. The other demigods look at him worried - but he is not afraid of the gods.

They grant his wish. Some of them aren't happy with it, but they have to do it. He meets Calypso at the front gates of Olympus - and her smile can brighten the pits of Tartarus. He sees Alabaster talking with Lou Ellen - they are both crying.

He thinks it's the end - it's not. Thalia tells him Rachel left for Camp in her Pegasus - and his father has lift the curse, the Prophecy is gone, but he fears for his best friend.

Perseus is too tired for shadow travel - he does it anyway. He flickers, but anyway, he is too late.

It works. Rachel - his best friend - is the new Oracle. Someone jokes they can't be together anymore and Rachel lifts an eyebrow.

"We never were. Didn't you see the last few hours?" Well, he did out himself. Mostly - they might say it's just friendship, and he will hate the way they twist it. Luke wasn't a villain, and Perseus isn't a pure hero with a heart of gold.

Perseus is healing from lost love - and Annabeth is too. His crush on her was only a crush, he thinks - She is his best friend first and foremost. They cry together at the bonfire that burns away the shrouds of 43 demigods - from both sides - and 16 hunters of Artemis. Their souls all rest in Elysium now.

Alabaster comes back to Camp and helps his siblings to build the new Cabin for Hecate, full of spelled blocks and magic chimneys. Clovis and Tyene have their hands full with their own cabins - it doesn't help they keep getting sidetracked with naps.

Somehow, Nico, Thalia, and his bond over helping construct Cabin 13 - They are both way too invested in the goth vibe, mostly because Cabin 1 looks like a temple, and Cabin 3 looks like a beach cabin. And both of them are so over it.

Perseus doesn't want a goth cabin - he is fighting against the aesthetic for years - but sometimes, there are no arguments. His Cabin is made of black marble, and there are skulls everywhere, with torches shining with green fire. Outside, at least. Inside, it looks like Persephone's garden, with input from the queen herself. It's ready just shy of the end of summer vacation.

Rachel tells the next Great Prophecy. Perseus isn't such a positive person to think it won't affect him - he hopes at least it'll wait until he is done with High School.

That night, he dreams of the blonde boy again - it's his first night without nightmares since the battle. He has a scar in his lip, and his green eyes pierce Percy's soul. Perseus wonders if they'll ever meet, wonders if this boy is one of the Seven of the Prophecy.

But alas, Perseus lets it go. The summer is over - he is sixteen, somehow. He is alive and going to go back to his mortal life and his junior year, and grief. Not everything is fine - but eventually, it will be.

It's not the end. Not yet.

[alittlefrenchtree]

Aaaand we're back at it and things are getting serious.

SPOILERS DUNE (Book II : MUAD'DIB, Chapters 10-11)

Chapter 10:

For a unknown reason this,

has become "twenty kilometers" in the french translation. So it's not as big as I thought but it's still quite big.

So the apparent goal of the Fremen is to plant trees (how ironic for a Timmy movie 😁) but they have to do it secretly because... Because with trees there wouldn't be as much spice and people who control Arrakis don't want that? I'm trying to simplify a hypothesis here so I can start caring a bit more about the political plot of Dune. I don't know if it's true.

Did I already wonder if Arrakis was Earth? What is left of it anyway. With all that water deep underground, that could mean something but I haven't really paid attention to details for that theory.

I'm less interested to the first part of the quote, which feels quite common than by the second and the importance it give to individuals. I'm not sure what I think about it yet, but it's interesting. Tell me more, Stilgar.

I'm starting to like this guy.

Ok, I don't know if we didn't talk about this yet or if we did and I already forgot,

but I haven't paid attention to the words used to talk about the prophecy and if it ever mentions a boy or if it's a genderless word every time like child or offspring. I don't remember ever seeing anything about a boy? Because this Bene Gesserit is going to have another kid. And based on how much Star Wars is "inspired" of Dune, do I have to consider that the Chosen One is not the one we expected but someone else from his family? Will Paul go full dark side and is the young sister going to bring balance to the Force? We'll see.

There is something mentioned in this chapter and in the next one that intrigue me a lot:

and this:

I wonder if it's because on something on Arrakis, like the Spice or if someone purposely did something. And if so, who?

So. We need to talk about the end of this chapter. It is part of the answer I was looking for, isn't it? I think?

I really feel like these last couple of pages are a gift celebrating all of my birthdays at the same time so I couldn't be happier. I'm not sure it's going to be the most interesting thing to read but I'm going to try to rephrase all that it says about prescience to sort my thoughts out and be sure I have understood everything.

So first, future in the Dune universe is not predefined timelines set in stone. Paul sees some of them, maybe too much of them for them to all be intelligible for him (yet?) but there are too many, each of them able to sprout from the tiniest changes, including one I hadn't considered before but that is very clever. Which is that, every time Paul accesses to prescience, he makes the future shifts by this very access to prescience.

But, even more amazing amazingness:

Quantum mechanics!! Remember when I was obsessed with it a few months back? Now I have the perfect excuse to make time to read about quantum mechanics again 😍 I'm so happy 😭

Edit: couldn't help myself and start reading about Heisenberg indeterminacy and omg it's amazing and it's even more amazing used it at a way to illustrate prescience. For those who understand French and are interested, I recommend this short and easy access video. But is exactly what's happening with Paul. Future reacts to him like quantum particles react to light. Why are quantum mechanics always so amazing? 😭

But let's go back a few lines above because:

First, Herbert was brillant for using the lexical field of water to talk about Paul's visions of the future. I mean it says it all by itself, isn't it? And secondly, am I supposed to read there that the blind spots of prescience are directly born from fear and that the litany is here to make the blindness go away or, to make the subject survive through blindness or am I not? Like when it says Fear is a mind killer, it isn't just a way of speaking, a psychological thing but a way of saying Fear makes you lose your prescience capacity?

And,

I absolutely love to see stillness making a comeback with an image close that what I have in mind. I can't wait to see what it will look like on screen. Given what I saw of Villeneuve's work already and the second Dune trailer, I trust him completely with this part. The inspiration is going to be amazing, the fan arts are going to be amazing, everything is going to be amazing.

I love and admire Herbert a lot for what he has done here with the end of this chapter and prescience in general. Trying to explain how a brain can apprehend concepts and principles that are too big, beyond everything that can normally be grasped by a human mind. Feeling the brain expands as it tries. Accept concepts that are opposite, contradictory even and still both true. It's really the kind of things I was expecting when I start reading so I'm very happy to see it deliver (and i need even more of it).

Chapter 11:

I was talking about religion vs propaganda last time and how maybe it wasn't that different for some aspects but... Bene Gesserit are religious people aren't they? I mean Jessica does pray. I don't know what or who she prays but she believes in the power of it.

"If I could only pray -- truly pray."

And by this truly pray, I suspect it's not only a matter of belief but the prayer does have real power. I'm-- confused about what kind of beliefs BG has given (more or less willingly) to Fremen (and probably other people around the universe as well). Is the religion only based on Bene Gesserit's powers? Is it a religion they believe in themselves? And for what purpose? Only create safe places for themselves or something else?

I also wonder why Chani is helping Paul so much as well? The guy just show up from nowhere and she already gives him tips to help him kill one of her people. It's weird.

Of course there are so many parts of the fight that made me go omg I can't wait to see Timmy play this. Gimme the fighting machine trained since the day he was born.

The after-fight is really interesting:

"Jessica stared at her son. Paul's were bright. He breathed heavily, permitting the ministration to his body rather than helping them."

🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️

This kid is going to be the death of me, isn't he? But Jessica bringing him down right after is kind of funny. From a semi-god to a child in one quick mental slap of his mother 😁

I've already talked about the tiny jumping mouse Muad'dib but it's really amazing. I wasn't expecting that at all. I'm guessing the mouse will have a bigger purpose at some point? No sure. What I'm really wondering is if I should expect Paul to go full Anakin on me? Wait. Oh. OH. Jessica is the one bringing him down so he doesn't grow so full of himself for killing opposants but what if she's gone? What if she dies, like Anakin's mom and, like for Anakin, the mom's death is one of the first steps leading the son to dark side? Damn. We see there are several futures where people walking behind Paul or the Atreides and setting worlds of fire (and not planting trees, obviously). It goes without saying that I would love, love to see Timmy plays a character who go dark side. Not sure if it will be the case here, but it could be interesting.

Ok, it's already long enough with only two chapters so I'm going to stop this for now. I have to read first anyway. See ya! 🌖💛

[fluorescentpipedream]

A couple of new updates on older characters and one newer one. 

First we’ll start with the new one: 

Arthur Powell - Arthur was born with a cleft palette when he was an infant though after several corrective surgeries before the age of 4 he was relatively normal, aside from the scar on his upper lip. Arthur was the first born to David and Suzette Powell (guessing on the names, @fat-and-nerdygirl​ if you wanna change them, go for it) after Suzette’s husband died in a tragic car accident in New Orleans and she remarried Mr. Powell. She already had one son from the previous marriage, Rob, who decided to keep his father’s last name, Whittaker. It was never really a source of contention between him and Powell, since Robert still had a few memories of his father left and wanted to hold onto the name. Anyhow...Arthur was 9 years old when he was helping his older brother Rob, their father and his two younger brothers work on a tree house they were setting up in the yard when he lost his footing climbing down the wooden planks hammered into the tree to serve as a ladder and fell from several feet up. The fall -should- have killed him, however by some stroke of luck Arthur survived, though suffered a pretty traumatic brain injury. This caused Arthur to lose, among other things, control over his emotional reactions to situations and develop  Pseudobulbar affect, which causes him to randomly burst out in fits of uncontrollable laughing (or crying, though he seems to laugh more than anything). In the years following the accident, Arthur had to relearn most basic motor skills and ended up with the mental capacity of a younger child than he was. When he was 14, the Powells adopted Frankie into their lives and while it was a bit of an adjustment having a baby in the home, Arthur seemed to take over a very protective stance over his baby sister. 

Currently, Arthur is living in a semi-assisted living facility where he has most control over his own life but as he’s approaching 40, he’s looking to move out of the home and into an apartment building owned by his parents and currently being lived in by his little sister. He used to work in the local library but took a job shortly after managing to graduate a local art school program at his fathers’ office building where he mostly sorts mail and keeps the files organized. Arthur has a bit of a learning disability, which is to be expected, all things considered but the accident could have paralyzed him, so he’s doing much better now than most people would have given him credit for. He also has an emotional support dog named Isabella: 

He got her about two years ago to help him prepare for moving out of his facility. In addition to his medications he also has a medical marijuana card which he uses to buy pre-rolled cigarettes, they stimulate his appetite since a few of his meds usually leave him without a lot of desire to eat, and can sometimes calm the laughter when it gets too serious. 

-----

In looking for pictures of Arthur, we also wound up revisiting the Gotham-esque role play my wife and I came up with years ago and in doing so, brought in some of the old characters from it. I updated a few of them. 

The first, of course, is the Joker or Arthur Fleck. Following the death of Batman (supposedly at the hands of Superman but there’s some mystery around those circumstances), Fleck allowed himself to be captured, stating there was little need for him to continue as the Bat was gone and Gotham was ready to return to the state it had been in before he started terrorizing its citizens in the first place. Believing he had been the spark that had ignited the fire in the city (and who’s to say he wasn’t really?) he was willing to sit back and watch it burn. When Batman “comes back from the dead” he orchestrates a rather grand escape of himself and several of the other head villains, looking to maintain the current state of the city. “Who are either of us...the Bat and I, without one another?” From what I also know, Fleck was Bruce’s half-brother as well. 

Next up is Johnathan Crane, or the Scarecrow. A clinical psychologist and professor at Gotham University, Crane is slightly obsessed when it comes to the subject of fear as a control mechanism and of what fear does to the human body and mind. In the course of his studies he’s created a neurotoxin which when released into the air, or pushed through the waters can cause intense fear and hallucinations, often bringing an individual’s worst fears to the front and forcing them to deal with them. The effects only last a couple of hours but in that time people who have been exposed to it have often caused harm to themselves or others. Crane recently funded a so-called Psychological experiment using human test subjects where he studied the effects of his toxin on a group of 10 to 20 people, varying age and gender, to see what would happen. Each of the people involved were compensated for their time, and several had to be paid a bit more so as not to send up red flags to the University over what they experienced. 

Harvey Dent - former senator of Gotham City, he was horribly disfigured when a bomb set off by some of the Jokers’ men robbed a gala he was attending, following the “death” of the Bat (I think this was probably one of the reasons that Victoria Wayne took up her father’s mantle, seeing that the evil was still in the world, and without her father there to keep it under control it would run rampant and destroy perfectly good people’s lives) Of course, Dent wasn’t exactly a stand-up individual, having been into nuclear testing and toxic waste dumping all while having a kind smile and trusting face that lured in more people to follow his platform. He originally wanted to see the “monsters of Gotham” take responsibility for their actions and not just shove them away in Arkham Asylum but actually rid the world of them for good. When he awakens from the blast and discovers he is now a disfigured, scarred “freak” he is incensed and turns from the political side of things to a more nefarious direction, meaning to not just join the monsters he used to so fervently want to annihilate but to lead them. He and Fleck butt heads quite a bit, as he feels he is superior to Fleck, though the Joker has other things in mind for Two-Face. 

Bryce Isley - Only “son” of Pamela Isley, otherwise known as Poison Ivy. Bryce was actually created using her DNA, egg and Bane’s sperm during a testing period in order to create a hybrid metahuman. When Pamela found out what had happened to create him, she took the infant from the lab and took him to Bruce Wayne, begging her former employee to help her. Bryce already possessed powers similar to his mother’s and unimaginable intelligence like that of his father, and in an effort to give Ivy some relief at the end of her days, Bruce agreed to take the child. Until he was 15, Bryce grew up in Wayne manor, beside Bruce’s daughter Victoria, but when he started exhibiting his powers and his inability to properly control them, Bruce sent him to work with Diana Prince, so that she may help him hone his power and not use them for evil. Bryce returns to Gotham following Bruce Wayne’s death but is a completely different person from the one who had left the city. He found out the truth of his existence, that he’s not so much a human as a test subject and that’s sparked some anger in him. 

Jared Joachim - Jared always had a hunch that there was something more to Bruce Wayne and when he was about 12 or 13 he snuck down into the Bat Cave and found out the truth. Promising to keep the secret, he began pursuing a career in engineering and mechanics, wanting more than anything to work with Batman and make new gadgets for him. After his father’s unfortunate death in Wayne Manor, supposedly at the hands of Batman himself, Jared lost his way and instead started working to make himself weapons and things that he could use to take revenge on Batman. When he returns to the states from Japan where he had been training in order to become strong enough to carry out his plan he finds out that Bruce has been killed and his daughter is now in control of the family business. He assumes that she is also going to take up the mantle of Batman but since he always loved Victoria, he cannot bring himself to do it. 

Alfred Pennyworth - Alfred has been the butler for the Wayne family since Bruce was a young man and has watched him grow and change into the man he became, as well as watch over his daughter Victoria. He’s not just an “old man” as so many people believe but has been the mastermind behind the suit, the vehicles and most of the weapons, believing that it is still his mission to serve the family no matter how that turns out. When Jared rejoins them, Alfred begins using the younger man for his ideas and between the two of them, they prepare Victoria to deal with the villains “Collective” 

@musesnotebook​

[saturnselkies]

“May I speak with you, Commander?”

“Yeah, of course, Augur. What’s up?” She gave her a small smile.

Augur looked up inquisitively. “Not spiderwebs, I hope.”

Penelope barked out a laugh at the comment. “Somehow, you always say the funniest shit.”

“I was not trying to be funny, Commander,” the mist-powered android replied with same impassive face. “The spiders almost ate you. It was distressing.”

“Right.” She chuckled. “You wanted something?”

“Not something. A question: Are you feeling all right?”

Augur kept her gaze steady on Penelope. She stood uneasy between the light of the torches and the glowing darkness that embraced Sun’s Refuge. Augur hoped she wasn’t prying too much into the Commander’s personal space.

“You do not have to answer. If you are uncomfortable with the question,” she added, as softly as she could manage.

“It’s not like I don’t want to answer. It’s just…” Penelope swallowed. “A lot has happened in the past few days. I think my brain is fried.”

Augur raised her eyebrows at the statement, but remained silent.

“Like…how do you change fate? Everyone’s been trying to do that. Incredibly powerful beings too. And none have succeeded thus far.” Penelope’s voice became unsteady, as if recalling something upsetting.

Blish’s sacrifice had taken a toll on Penelope and it was clearly visible. Had it not been for the Grand Diviner’s help, she surely would have fallen into the nothingness of the vast cosmos. Augur found she disliked that thought.

It was disconcerting. To see creatures of pure flesh and bone being back to back with death so often. Death had become a lonely yet familiar companion to all of them.

“I don’t believe in fate, Commander.” Penelope opened her mouth to protest, but Augur raised her hand. “It is a restricting concept. We have all but chances.”

Penelope bit her lip. She looked at the distant Sunspears chattering and planning. “So—what you’re saying—is that we’re looking for a chance to change destiny?”

“I did not say that. That is your own conclusion,” Augur said calmly, but she hoped Penelope would shoot down her statement. Sometimes she wondered why she enjoyed this exchange of polite arguments so much.

“Am I wrong, though?” Penelope retorted with a smirk.

Augur cleared her throat and tried to hide her excitement. “You are not. If we are to hope that Tyria survives, we will have to find the ‘possible in the impossible’.”

“That’s corny as hell.” Penelope beamed, her slouched position turning upright. “I love it.”

Augur nodded. “I thought you would appreciate the sentiment expressed in that phrase. I could lend you the book in which I read it, if it pleases you.”

Penelope nodded. Augur couldn’t stop a small smile from spreading across her face.

“Sure! I could use some light reading.” She grinned. ”You can sit here, y'know. Seat’s not taken.” She patted the crates, inviting the other to sit.

Augur carefully sat on the crates, and turned her head to Penelope. Her eyes were so very green. So very pretty.

“I am feeling better, by the way. Thanks,”  Penelope said. A lingering affection in her words.

“I am not sure why you are thanking me, Commander.” Augur averted her gaze for a few seconds. She felt a little warmer than before. “That is good to hear, though.”

“Just call me Penelope, will ya?”

“Your request has been noted.” Augur scribbled down on her holo-pad. Penelope giggled and leaned into her arm.

Maybe things would turn out okay, ͍̲ͅi̱̳͈n̝͙̮ țh͎̳̼ḛ̠ ̩̻̲end͙̘͈. J̳͇ust̥͍ ̫m̟ͅay̯̼̳be.

***

[Memory replay completed :: Section 4_0008 5C]

“You know, you shouldn’t be replaying memories.” Rosetta sat by Augur’s feet. “It’s only gonna hurt more.”

“I…” Augur’s eyes were wide. Nothing ever slipped past Rosetta. “I was not replaying memories. I was sorting them out.”

“Lying? Tsk. Tsk. Naughty!” Rosetta laughed.

Augur hugged her knees and buried her face with a huff. It was a little embarrassing to be this easily read.

“I made all of your wires and mistcircuits. Don’t be embarrassed.” She poked Augur’s leg. “What’s in your mind?”

“I think something is faulty. I keep missing Penelope, but she is right there.” Augur swallowed mechanically. Her mist essence waving anxiously.

“You’ve become a ghost to her. Happens to the best of us.” Rosetta stared at the silhouette of Dragon’s Watch in a distance.

“She is busy.”

“You know that isn’t true. She is clinging to a feeling that is consuming her. You don’t have to get caught up in it, Augur.”

***

Her laughter. From afar. Blocking out all of other sounds. Her gaze reaching Augur’s presence.

Green eyes?

No, yellow.

“Hey ‘Gur, what’s up?” She smiled, her canines a little sharper than last time.

You don’t have to get caught up in it, Augur.

She looked up at the sky above the Eye of the North.

“Greetings, Commander…”

But how could I not, Rosetta?

“…Penelope.”

I need to find the possible in the impossible.

[scribbles97]

Left Behind -- Chapter 15

All I’m saying about this chapter is... I apologise for nothing.

PART 1 /  Chapter 14 / Chapter 15 / Chapter 16 / Chapter 17 / Chapter 18 / Chapter 19 / Chapter 20 / Chapter 21

Read on Ao3

“A word?” Kyrano murmured as Lucy stepped into the kitchen from the pool. She had seen his plane come in whilst she had been on her late afternoon jog around the island and she wondered just what news he had that warranted him flying out to discuss it with her. 

“My office,” She nodded, “The boys are all home.”

 “I’d noticed,” He smiled briefly, “I thought you’d enjoy their company.”

 Snorting, she smiled, “It gives me peace of mind knowing where they all are at the moment. Let’s leave it at that.”

 He nodded wordlessly as he followed her up the stairs and through the lounge to the quiet corner that housed her office. She was glad that they only passed Virgil on their way there, perhaps the least likely to question what the pair were up to. 

 Closing the door, Lucy swallowed, “So? I didn’t think you’d fly all the way out here just to say hi.”

He shook his head as he leant on the corner of her desk, “There are some things that require a more personal touch, you should know that Lucille.”

 She did know it. She also knew Kyrano and how he had softened in the last few years. The loss of Jeff had hit him hard, blame consuming him until he had taken some time away to reset. He had come back a fresh man, calmer, quieter, always listening and only saying whatever needed to be heard. His role on the island had been taken over by Tanusha, security of Tracy Island and its fleet of Thunderbirds all on her shoulders against Lucy's better judgement. She seemed happy in the role though, and Lucy trusted both her and Kyrano’s opinions enough to allow them to work as they pleased. 

 “I am afraid there has been more chatter,” He sighed, folding his arms as he watched her, “Gaat apparently already has an assailant.”

 Sinking down in the armchair in the corner of the room, she couldn’t help but wince. They had been counting on time, a chance to intercept any potential assailants before Gaat got his hands on them. 

 “Name? Details?” She shrugged, “Do we even know what for yet?”

 “He called himself the Mechanic.” Kyrano nodded, “It is the next part that you’ll like less though.”

 She didn’t say anything, knowing that he would tell her soon enough. Kyrano knew better than to keep her waiting. 

Producing a holotablet from his pocket, he set it down on the smooth surface of the desk, swiping over its screen brought up a clip that Lucy immediately recognised. 

 Four years later she hadn’t forgotten what the Zero-X had looked like. 

 Frowning at the hologram she stood, stepping forward to look closer, “Is that…”

 He nodded once, “A different angle.”

 She watched with wide eyes, unable to turn away as the camera moved away from the body of the stricken ship. The screen froze for a moment as Kyrano pointed to a second capsule in the other corner of the screen, “Gaat escaped the ship in this escape pod. What we didn’t realise was that a second pod launched at the same time.”

 Shaking her head she didn’t take her eyes from the screen, waiting, needing, more, “So? What is it? Why are you showing this to me?”

 He said nothing more as the clip resumed, but she knew what came next. It was the blast that had killed Jeff. She had settled on that years ago, looking at it again couldn’t, wouldn’t, change that. 

 The flash filled the screen and froze before the blast could reach its full expansion. Kyrano swept at the image, manipulating and clarifying it until the outline of the Zero-X was clear. She found herself holding her breath, not daring to move as she gripped the edge of the desk, waiting, watching, silently hoping. 

 It was slowed down, so much slower than it had actually happened, but still so perfectly clear. As the explosion expanded, the outline of the ship moved up the screen, out of the range of the camera on the escape pod. It kept going as the smoke filled the image, right up until the highlighted outline of the Zero-X left the hologram. 

 “What is this?” She whispered as the film cut to a blank, finally able to look away. 

 Kyrano watched her for a long moment, lips pursed as he opened a new file, “Brains, you can come in now.”

 Lucy turned, frowning as her chief scientist stepped into the room pushing his glasses up his nose.

 “H-h-hello, Mrs Tracy.”

 She nodded, in acknowledgement, unsure as to what he was doing on the island, “Hiram.”

 He hated the island. She had asked him to move out there as a full time advisor plenty of times yet he had always so politely refused, insisting he found the quiet hum of the city soothing to his overactive mind. 

 “Brains,” Kyrano started, “Would you please explain to Lucille what we previously discussed.”

 “O-of course,” He nodded, hesitating, biting his lip as he reached for the tablet, “I see M-m-mister Kyrano has already sh-shown you the new footage?”

 Mute, Lucy nodded. 

 “The image is unclear, and there is no way to improve its r-r-resolution. However, we do b-believe that the outline of the Zero-X can be made out leaving the sh-shot. F-from the flight data recovered from the pod, and the camera angle we c-c--can assume the Zero-X continued on a trajectory much like this.”

 Lines appeared on the diagram, blue for the escape pod, red for the ship. 

 Red kept going.

 Hiram kept talking. 

 Something about the power of engines, weight of the ship, what had been expected of the test flight versus what had actually happened. 

 “Wait,” She raised a hand, cutting him off with a shake of her head, “Sorry Hiram. Just-- I-- Spell it out for me.”

 Hiram looked from her to Kyrano and back again, eyes wide, “Erm… well… there is no way to confirm it at this time, but this n-n-new footage indicates that there is a possibility that the launch of the Zero-X m-m-may have been successful.”

 Looking from one man to the other, she swallowed hard, “You mean…”

 Kyrano nodded, one single movement, “There’s a possibility the Zero-X made it into deep space, potentially with Jeff on board.”

 As much as she wanted to believe it, she knew she couldn’t. It had been too long. Four years was too much. She was at peace with what she knew, had come to terms with having to live without him. 

 “No.” She swallowed, “Don’t do this to me Kyrano. Don’t put me through all of this again.”

 “Lucy,” He scolded gently, frowning at her negativity. Gesturing back towards the diagram, he smiled, “He could be out there, Jeff could be alive.”

 She could see the science, understand how the conclusion had been drawn. What use was it though? There were so many variables, too many unknowns. She wasn’t even sure about the specs of the Zero-X’s engine. Maybe Jeff was alive, but they had no way of knowing for sure and no way of possibly finding out.

 The knowledge that she may never know for sure hurt more than grief ever had.

 Biting her lip, she shook her head, “No. Why bring it up? What do you expect me to do with his information? You came here to tell me about Gaat and his mechanic. What has he got to do with this?”

 Kyrano smiled slowly, reaching out to her shoulder and holding her in place as he met her eye, “They’re building a second Zero-X, Lucy. A new ship with the same drive as the one in Jeff’s accident. We get our hands on one of those and we have a chance at finding out if Jeff is still out there.”

 She wasn’t sure what to say. There weren’t any words. For so long she hadn’t wanted to believe that he could have possibly been dead. Finally, four long years later there was the possibility that he was alive. 

 But only a possibility. 

 Space flight still had its risks, without being flung into the far reaches of space without any preparation or resources. 

 Even if he had survived the launch, there were so many possibilities. 

 There was only one way to find out though, a single way to know for sure what had become of her husband. 

 A deep breath, thoughts focussed, she looked to the hologram with a new pair of eyes. 

 “What did you have in mind?”

 Kyrano smiled, “We talk to this Mechanic, see if we can get him on our side.”

 Worst case scenario immediately came to mind.

 “And if we can’t?”

 “We steal their new Zero-X.”

[gnosticgnoob]

An Excerpt from Prometheus Rising by Robert Anton Wilson:

...the human mind behaves as if it were divided into two parts, the Thinker and the Prover. The Thinker can think about virtually anything, that the earth is suspended on the backs of infinite turtles or that the Earth is hollow, or that the Earth is floating in space; comparative religion and philosophy show that the Thinker can regard itself as mortal, as immortal, as both mortal and immortal or even as nonexistent (Buddhism). It can think itself into living in a Christian universe, a Marxist universe, a scientific-relativistic universe, or a Nazi universe—among many possibilities.

As psychiatrists and psychologists have often observed (much to the chagrin of their medical colleagues), the Thinker can think itself sick, and can even think itself well again.

The Prover is a much simpler mechanism. It operates on one law only: Whatever the Thinker thinks, the Prover proves. ...The Thinker thinks that the sun moves around the earth, the Prover obligingly organizes all perceptions to fit that thought; the Thinker changes its mind and decides the earth moves around the sun, and the Prover reorganizes the evidence.

"We, as a species, exist in a world in which exist a myriad of data points (1). Upon these matrices of points we superimpose a structure and the world makes sense to us (2). The pattern of the structure originates within our biological and sociological properties (3)." — Persinger and Lafreniere, Space-Time Transients and Unusual Events

(1) events or actions, i.e. verbs, not nouns.

(2) models or maps, static things; nouns not verbs.

(3) brain hardware and software.

We will consider the human brain a kind of bio-computer—an electro-colloidal computer. The brain appears to be made up of matter in electro-colloidal suspension.

Colloids are pulled together, toward a condition of gel, by their surface tensions, and surface tensions pull all glue-like substances together. Colloids are also, conversely, pushed apart, toward a condition of sol, by their electrical charges, because their electrical charges are similar, and similar electrical charges always repel each other. In the equilibrium between gel and sol, suspension maintains its continuity and life continues. Move the suspension too far one way or another, and life ends.

Any chemical that gets into the brain changes the gel-sol balance, and "consciousness" is accordingly influenced. Thus, potatoes are, like LSD, "psychedelic"—in a milder way. The changes in consciousness when one moves from a vegetarian diet to an omnivorous diet, or vice versa, are also "psychedelic." Since "What the Thinker thinks, the Prover proves," all of our ideas are psychedelic. Even without experimenting with diet or drugs, whatever you think you should see, you will see—unless it is physically impossible in this universe.

All experience is a muddle, until we make a model to explain it. The model can clarify the muddles, but the model is never the muddle itself. "The map is not the territory"; the menu does not taste like the meal.

Every computer consists of two aspects: hardware and software. (Software here includes information).

The hardware is concrete and localized, consisting of a processor, display, keyboard, disks, etc.—all the parts you can drag into the shop for repair if the computer is malfunctioning.

The software consists of programs that can exist in many forms, including the totally abstract, that can be "in" the computer in the sense that it is recorded in the CPU or on a disk which is hitched up to the computer, or even exist on a piece of paper, as in a manual; in these cases, it is not "in" the computer but can be put "in" at any time. A program may even exist only in my head, if I have never written it down.

The hardware is more "real" than the software in that you can always locate it in space-time—if it's not in the bedroom, somebody must have moved it to the study, etc. On the other hand, the software is more "real" in the sense that you can smash the hardware back to dust ("kill" the computer) and the software still exists, and can "materialize" or "manifest" again in a different computer.

The hardware is inside the human skull. The software, however, seems to be anywhere and everywhere. For instance, the software "in" my brain also exists outside my brain in such forms as, say, a book I read twenty years ago, which was an English translation of various signals transmitted by Plato 2400 years ago. Other parts of my software are made up of the software of Confucius, James Joyce, my second-grade teacher, Kanye, Beethoven, my mom and dad, Richard Nixon, my various dogs and cats, and anybody and any-thing that has ever impacted upon my brain.

Of course, if consciousness consisted of nothing but this undifferentiated tapioca of timeless, spaceless software, we would have no individuality, no center, no Self.

We want to know, then, how out of this universal software ocean a specific person emerges.

Each set of programs consists of four basic parts:

Genetic Imperatives. Hard-wired programs or "instincts." 

Imprints. These hard-wired programs which the brain is genetically designed to accept only at certain points in its development known as times of imprint vulnerability.

Conditioning. These are programs built onto the imprints. They are looser and fairly easy to change with counter-conditioning.

Learning. This is even looser and "softer" than conditioning.

The primordial imprint can almost always over-rule any subsequent conditioning or learning. An imprint is a species of software that has become built-in hardware, being impressed on the tender neurons when they are peculiarly open and vulnerable.

Imprints are the non-negotiable aspects of our individuality, establishes the limits, parameters, perimeters within which all subsequent conditioning and learning occurs.

Before the first imprint, the consciousness of the infant is "formless and void"—like the universe at the beginning of Genesis. As soon as the first imprint is made, structure emerges out of the creative void.

The growing mind, alas, becomes trapped within this structure. It identifies with the structure; in a sense, it becomes the structure.

This entire process is analyzed in G. Spencer Brown's Laws of Form wherein he writes about the foundations of mathematics and logic. But every sensitive reader knows that Brown is also talking about a process we have all passed through in creating, out of an infinite ocean of signals, those particular constructs we call "myself and "my world."

Each successive imprint complicates the software which programs our experience and which we experience as "reality."

Conditioning and learning build further networks onto this bedrock of imprinted software. This brain circuitry makes up our map of the world. It is what our Thinker thinks, and our Prover mechanically fits all incoming signals to the limitations of this map. We shall divide this brain hardware into 8 circuits. The first four of the circuits are "antique" and conservative, they exist in everybody (except feral children).

The Oral Bio-Survival Circuit. Imprinted by the mother or the first mothering object and conditioned by subsequent nourishment or threat. It is primarily concerned with sucking, feeding, cuddling, and body security. It retreats mechanically from the noxious or predatory—or from anything associated (by imprinting or conditioning) with the noxious or predatory.

The Anal Emotional-Territorial Circuit. Imprinted in the "Toddling" stage when the infant rises up, walks about and begins to struggle for power within the family structure. This mostly mammalian circuit processes territorial rules, emotional games, or cons, pecking order and rituals of domination or submission.

The Time-Binding Semantic Circuit. Imprinted and conditioned by human artifacts and symbol systems. It "handles" and "packages" the environment, classifying everything according to the local reality tunnel. Invention, calculation, prediction and transmitting signals across generations are its functions.

The "Moral" Socio-Sexual Circuit. Imprinted by the first orgasm-mating experiences at puberty and is conditioned by tribal taboos. It processes sexual pleasure, local definitions of "right" and "wrong," reproduction, adult parental personality (sex role) and nurture of the young. The development of these circuits as the brain evolved through evolution, and as each domesticated human brain recapitulates evolution in growing from infancy to adulthood, makes possible gene-pool survival, mammalian sociobiology (pecking order, or politics) and transmission of culture.

The Holistic Neurosomatic Circuit. This is imprinted by ecstatic experience. It processes neurosomatic ("mind-body") feedback loops, somatic-sensory bliss, feeling "high," "faith-healing," etc. NLP and holistic medicine consist of tricks or gimmicks to get this circuit into action at least temporarily.

The Collective Neurogenetic Circuit. This is imprinted by bio-chemical - electrical stresses. It processes DNA-RNA-brain feedback systems and is "collective" in that it contains and has access to the whole evolutionary "script," past and future. Experience of this circuit is numinous, "mystical," mind-shattering; here dwell the archetypes of Jung's Collective Unconscious—Gods, Goddesses, Demons, Hairy Dwarfs and other personifications of the DNA programs (instincts) that govern us.

The Meta-programming Circuit. This consists, in modern terms, of cybernetic consciousness, reprogramming and reimprinting all other circuits, even reprogramming itself, making possible conscious choices that best exercise our faculty of free will.

The Non-Local Quantum Circuit. This is imprinted by shock, by "near-death" experience, by extremely rare bizarre-seeming trans-time perceptions often labeled as "precognition", etc.

[kaile-hultner]

Dialogues With A Dreg, Part Four

Spoilers for Destiny and Destiny 2 ahead.

Hello, Guardian.

Let’s drop the allegory for a while. I don’t think it was working to begin with, and I prefer to speak plainly instead of in prose.

I love the game you serve as the protagonist in, at least mechanically. Part of the reason I’ve put nearly a thousand hours in piloting you around and clicking on enemy heads is because I’m chasing that satisfying “pop” when something’s brain explodes after I get them with a linear fusion rifle. I guess it’s better than being addicted to drugs or alcohol or video games with gambling mechan- oh shit god dammit wait, fuck, there’s Eververse here, I forgot.

Anyway, Destiny 2 has my full buy-in when it comes to gameplay, as I think it’s grabbed many folks in its three-year lifespan. I’m not as big a fan of the many modes to choose from in the game, and I think the story – when looked at holistically – is more-or-less a wash. But one aspect I can’t ignore is one I’ve tried to reason out in these Dialogues: Bungie, the game’s developer, wants me to live at least part-time in this world, and there are certain ramifications that come with that.

I first noticed these ramifications during the Faction Rallies in D2Y1, when it asked me to pick a faction and fuck shit up across the solar system. I picked what I thought was the coolest-looking faction, a group of (it turned out) thanatonautic, neoliberal warmongers calling themselves Future War Cult. They basically killed themselves over and over to see the future, and as a result they want Guardians everywhere to become absolute war machines. But as far as I could see, they were a “better” option than the other two factions: Dead Orbit, who just wanted to get the fuck out of the solar system and away from the Traveler, our slumbering charge, and New Monarchy.

New Monarchy is the MAGA hat gang of Destiny 2. They want to keep humanity safe by locking them inside the Last City, forming an eternal Guardian-led kingdom, and ruling with an iron fist. Yeesh.

In my first Faction Rally, I fought hard for FWC. I liked the gear they were giving me, not to mention the guns I could earn from them. They had an aesthetic I liked, and the story of thanatonautics is interesting enough for me to want to know more about how all that worked. But I didn’t like the insistence that we “reclaim” the far-flung reaches of the solar system, as if they belonged to us inherently. I didn’t like the ramping-up, constant drumbeat for war they were throwing out. Even if Lakshmi-2, FWC’s leader, seemed like the eye of a hurricane – calm, yet clearly still dangerous – the hurricane she was the center of was starting to irk me.

I’m sorry to say I didn’t drop FWC in subsequent Rallies, even if I wasn’t as enthusiastic about them as I was initially. If I could pick again, though, I know now I’d pick Dead Orbit. They had it the most right, plus Peter Stormare plays Arach Jalaal, the faction’s leader, which is just cool.

But the winner of pretty much every rally was New Monarchy. I couldn’t see the appeal, even if you stripped the clear trump-ass bullshit away. But a LOT of other Destiny 2 players fought for them, and they were the victors constantly. Bungie took the Faction Rally away in D2Y2, but it basically put me on an inexorable thought track to where we are today.

Simply put, I think the world that Destiny 2 is advocating for is at best a fascist one. At worst, we’re talking about reinstating the divine right of kings. Not only does mortal humanity lose in this bargain, but every other living creature inhabiting our solar system suffers for it as well.

Now, Guardian, I can see that this is an unwelcome statement to hear. I get it. After spending the entire five years of your existence thanklessly putting around the solar system and killing gargantuan, god-level threats to humanity and life itself, watching some nerdy, doughy writer cast aspersions on everything you do probably extends past irritation and into wishing you could shoulder-charge me into Glimmer particles. But I want to be clear: yours isn’t the only video game world – or even the only sci-fi world in general – that does this. As Nic Reuben (the original Destiny 2 fascism warner) put it in his 2017 post on the subject, Bungie writers are “blindly following a set of culturally encoded science-fantasy tropes”:

“‘True leaders are born. It’s genetic. The right to rule is inherited.’ Any time you play as a really, really ridiculously good looking person killing mobs of ugly things for a vaguely defined reason, you’re witnessing this kind of ideology first hand.”

One thing I would like to point out, though, before we continue: Guardian, I know you personally. I’ve fought as you across the stars. I know you don’t inherently want to rule over anything. You are intentionally a blank slate, you never voice your own desires except for that one time when a possessed Awoken prince killed your best ramen bud, and I want to believe that the only thing you want — which is the only thing I want — is to race Sparrows on Mars. But the version of you I play as is not the only version of you that exists. There are over a million of you. And aside from that million iterations of you that exist in this game world, there are others who absolutely want to rule. It’s high time to interrogate this world.

Fantasy Space Fascism: The Game

In his book Against the Fascist Creep, freelance journalist and Portland State Ph.D candidate Alexander Reid Ross defines fascism as “an ideology that draws on old, ancient, and even arcane myths of racial, cultural, ethnic, and national origins to develop a plan for the ‘new man.'” He continues:

“Fascism is also mythopoetic insofar as its ideological system does not only seek to create new myths but also to create a kind of mythical reality (ed. emphasis mine), or an everyday life that stems from myth rather than fact. Fascists hope to produce a new kind of rationale envisioning a common destiny that can replace modern civilization. The person with authority is the one who can interpret these myths into real-world strategy through a sacralized process that defines and delimits the seen and the unseen, the thinkable and the unthinkable.

“That which is most commonly encouraged through fascism is producerism, which augments working-class militancy against the ‘owner class’ by focusing instead on the difference between ‘parasites’ (typically Jews, speculators, technocrats, and immigrants) and the productive workers and elites of the nation. In this way, fascism can be both functionally cross class and ideologically anticlass, desiring a classless society based on a ‘natural hierarchy’ of deserving elites and disciplined workers. By destroying parasites and deploying some variant of racial, national, or ethnocentric socialism, fascists promise to create an ideal state or suprastate – a spiritual entity more than a modern nation-state, closer to the unitary sovereignty of the empire than political systems of messy compromises and divisions of power.”

Ross, A. R. (2017). Against the Fascist Creep. AK Press.

The Destiny franchise begins with you, a freshly-reborn Guardian, shooting and punching your way through a hive of vaguely-arachnid aliens your Ghost companion calls “Fallen.” You find a decrepit jumpship deep in the heart of the Old Russia Cosmodrome, which your Ghost fires up and uses to take you to the “last safe city on Earth,” a walled metropolis underneath the Traveler. You first meet with the Vanguard triumvirate, Titan Commander Zavala, Warlock Ikora, and Hunter Cayde-6, and then, after completing some tasks for them, you are granted an audience with the Speaker (voiced by Bill Nighy):

“THE SPEAKER: There was a time when we were much more powerful. But that was long ago. Until it wakes and finds its voice, I am the one who speaks for The Traveler.

“You must have no end of questions, Guardian. In its dying breath, The Traveler created the Ghosts to seek out those who can wield its Light as a weapon—Guardians—to protect us and do what the Traveler itself no longer can.

“GUARDIAN: What happened to it?

“THE SPEAKER: I could tell you of the great battle centuries ago, how the Traveler was crippled. I could tell you of the power of The Darkness, its ancient enemy. There are many tales told throughout the City to frighten children. Lately, those tales have stopped. Now… the children are frightened anyway. The Darkness is coming back. We will not survive it this time.

“GHOST: Its armies surround us. The Fallen are just the beginning.

“GUARDIAN: What can I do?

“THE SPEAKER: You must push back the Darkness. Guardians are fighting on Earth and beyond. Join them. Your Ghost will guide you. I only hope he chose wisely.”

Bungie. Destiny. Activision Entertainment, 2015.

This introduction to the world of Destiny is… shockingly reductive. Even playing the campaign when this happens, my first thoughts were, “wait so we’re not even smart or good enough to hear the children’s scary stories about the history of this world? what the fuck?” But over the course of years, we find out more and more about the so-called Golden Age of Humanity, the tools humans built with implied assistance from the Traveler, the various rich families and corporate megaliths that consolidated power over people across the solar system in the years and decades leading to the arrival of the Darkness and the ensuing Collapse.

Not only that, we start to get a pretty clear image of what life was like immediately following the Collapse. Humanity was almost driven to extinction, and the people left alive after this apocalypse soon wished they were dead. The Traveler “defeated” the Darkness but in the process put itself into something similar to an emergency reboot mode. It deployed the Ghosts, who resurrected people who could, as the Speaker put it, “wield its Light as a weapon,” but the first of these “Risen” were nothing short of horrific. They used their Ghosts’ regeneration and resurrection powers to become regional warlords, subjugating what few mortal people remained, draining the desolate wastes of what few resources they had, and basically sealing the deal on the “Dark Age” brought on by the Collapse. It wasn’t until the advent of the Iron Lords that these warlords were defeated and the “age of Guardians” could begin, but even the Iron Lords did some pretty heinous shit – like use a whole town of mortals as bait to lure in a band of warlords on the run.

But when it comes to creating a mythical reality, the Speaker has his formula down pat. Don’t get too bogged down with details, paint the conflict in stark good vs. evil, literal “Light vs. Darkness” broad strokes, and mythologize the actions of Guardians (but most importantly, our Guardian). And oh, what fodder for mythology we are.

By the end of the first campaign, we’re the hero who severed the connection between the Hive, the Vex and the Traveler and tore out the heart of the Black Garden. By the end of The Taken King, we’ve slain a god-king. In the Rise of Iron expansion, we stop the spread of a virulent nanoparticle with murderous intent called SIVA in its tracks, using nothing but our fists. In Destiny 2, we become the Hero of the Red War, the one who put an end to a Vex plot to sterilize all worlds, and who killed a Hive Worm God. We avenge our fallen Hunter Vanguard, we kill a Taken Ahamkara. We are the hub on which the spokes of history are turning.

In terms of video game power fantasies, I really truly can’t imagine a better-feeling one. It’s basically pure uncut dopamine being transmitted directly to the pleasure centers of the brain, one Herculean feat at a time. And if we were the only Guardian, if we were not part of a larger world, if everything around us was in a vacuum, I don’t know if I would be writing this article. But Bungie has been very clear about wanting to make a world where our actions do materially affect our surroundings. As such, we are essentially a walking propaganda tool for the Consensus, a pseudo-democratic government over the Last City, consisting of faction leaders, the Vanguard and the (now-presumed-dead, hasn’t been replaced) Speaker.

The Consensus wants badly to declare the advent of the New Golden Age, a time in which Humanity can finally emerge from under the shadow of the Traveler to pick up where it left off prior to the Collapse. The problem we supposedly face is the never-ending onslaught of Enemies. Four alien species showed up on our doorstep after the Collapse, all seeking to finish us off (according to the Speaker): the Fallen, the Cabal, the Hive/Taken, and the Vex.

Of the four-ish races of enemy, only one can said to be truly, deeply “evil” in the sense the Speaker intends: the Hive and Taken, led by Taken King Oryx and his sisters Sivu Arath and Savathun, the only force in the galaxy more fascist than the Guardians. The Vex are a race of machines whose only focus is on making more of themselves, a threat similar to SIVA. The other two alien forces, the Fallen and the Cabal, are certainly antagonistic toward Guardians but our initial reasons for fighting them are, frankly, butt-ass stupid. Basically, we fight them because they’re there. They have the audacity to land on planets that “belong to us” and scavenge resources from them. Until the Red Legion showed up on Earth, we basically only ever fought Cabal on Mars, and there’s really no reason as to why.

The Fallen, or Eliksni, on the other hand, end up coming off more as the tragic victims of our flippantly rampant genocidaire practices than actual “enemies.” They’re probably the weakest alien species we come up against. Their backstory involves them living in peace under the Traveler before their entire society was caught up in a Collapse-like “Whirlwind” and destroyed. Rather than give them Guardians, like it did with us, the Traveler instead just up and peaced out, leaving the Eliksni for dead against the maelstrom of the Darkness. The surviving “Fallen” got in their skiffs and desperately chased the Traveler across the heavens, stratifying the remnants of their society into “houses” and developing religious devotion to machines like Servitors in the process.

They tried to take the Traveler back at the Battle of the Five Fronts and Twilight Gap, and lost. Their armies were shattered, and we’ve been nonchalantly killing them en masse ever since. They are the “parasites” our Guardian must exterminate, along with the Hive, Cabal, and Vex. When we make friends with, or even simply allies with, a Fallen (like Variks the Loyal, Mithrax the Forsaken, or the Spider), it is made clear almost immediately that this 100 percent doesn’t change the relationship we have with the Fallen as a group. Variks is absolutely subservient to Mara Sov and the Awoken. Mithrax wants to create an Eliksni House that bows down to Guardians and Humanity for being “better stewards” of the Traveler than the Eliksni was. The Spider makes it clear that he only wants to grow his crime syndicate, but that we can help him out if we want. Never once does the Vanguard or the Consensus reach out to these allies and try to broker peace. And in-game, we simply don’t have an option but to fire on and kill Eliksni in droves. Kill or be “killed,” right?

When it comes to Humanity itself, while we never get a chance to actually leave the Tower and walk through the streets of the Last City, there are at least hints as to the deep class stratification at work here. You can’t get much more on-the-nose than an ivory tower of immortal beings overlooking an enclosed human race. Guardians atop humanity, the Speaker above the Vanguard over the Consensus over the people, and you, the very fulcrum on which history pivots, functionally over everything else. But in the mythical reality of this game, it’s really the Traveler über Alles, and humanity underneath the Traveler has become a wonderful, diverse melting pot without class, without fear. An ideal state where the walls keep Darkness at bay and humanity can discover the joys of tonkotsu ramen yet again.

A Light Story Vs. Lore Steeped in Darkness

Destiny has a reputation, unfairly earned, for being an okay game with a bad story, or at best a nonexistent one. The story isn’t really all that bad, it’s just poorly implemented up front, and I think my willingness to engage with the game’s world to the extent that I have is a testament to how powerful and evocative some of the beats in Destiny’s writing truly are. If we dissect the game we can separate the writing of the “story” from the writing of the “lore,” and in watching the plot develop over the past few years, we can see a gradual unification of these two areas start to occur.

This is helped greatly by third-party resources like Ishtar Collective, and by mechanical decisions Bungie made in D2Y2. Adding the lore back into the game with Forsaken was a good idea; choosing to fully integrate the lore into the world starting with Season of the Forge was a great one.

A side-effect of this lore-plot unification is a dismantling-in-real-time of some of the game’s most beloved and widely-spread legends, like the legend of Shin Malphur and Dredgen Yor. Even our personal legend is challenged in this way, and it’s a really neat way that Bungie writers new and old are critically engaging with their work. But it also really throws into stark relief some of the issues I’ve laid out in this article so far.

Take, for example, the lore book “Stolen Intelligence.”

Presented to us as intercepted secret Vanguard transmissions, “Stolen Intelligence” shows us exactly what the Vanguard really thinks of our actions, and what their goals really are. It was part of Season of the Drifter, which overall had a “trust no one” vibe to it, but some of the entries here are BLEAK, y’all.

Here’s an excerpt from the first entry, titled “Outliers.”

“Fallen armed forces continue to fall back from active fronts across Terra. Factions of House Dusk remain active in the European Dead Zone. Throughout the rest of the globe, refugee attack incidents have dropped by more than 70 percent since the conclusion of the Red War – largely attributable to depressed Fallen and human populations rather than any significant change in interspecies relations.

[…]

“The recent trending emergence of so-called “crime syndicates” (cf. report #004-FALLEN-SIV) is emblematic of the continuing destructuralization of Fallen society. Likely an artifact of multi-generational colonization of human strongholds, this agent believes that because these syndicates have no relation to indigenous Fallen culture, young Fallen are appropriating and imitating human mythology in absence of a strong cultural heritage of their own.

[…]

“VIP #3987, another former confederate of the Awoken, is a lesser-known personality known as Mithrax. Scattered field reports suggest that like #1121, #3987 styles himself a Kell of the so-called “House Light,” an otherwise unknown House apparently founded by #3987 himself. We have secondhand accounts that Mithrax has engaged in allied operations with Guardians in the field, though we have not as yet been able to corroborate these accounts with any degree of veracity. This agent is inclined to treat these reports with a healthy degree of skepticism until otherwise confirmed, as they may be propaganda from Fallen sympathizers in the Old Russian and Red War Guardian cohorts. We have requested intelligence records from the Awoken which may further clarify the matter.

“In addition, whatever the findings of said intelligence records may be, it should be stressed that one or two sympathetic outliers cannot be relied upon to erase the wrongs of past centuries, nor should their good-faith efforts to correct the sins of their forbears be taken as sufficient symbolic reparation.

[…]

“We have come too far to pull our punches now.”

Bungie. Destiny 2: Forsaken – Season of the Drifter. Lore Book: Stolen Intelligence. Outliers. Activision Entertainment, 2019.

Here’s another piece of “Stolen Intelligence,” about our relationship with Cabal Emperor Calus:

“Related to the above, #3801’s aggressive propaganda campaign appears to have been successful. Despite #3801’s recent inactivity, sentiment polls captured in the Tower at regular intervals over the last several months indicate that he has successfully swayed a significant percentage of the Red War cohort to believe that he may be a potential ally. Given our history with the Cabal as well as the events of the Red War itself, this is shocking and perhaps attributable to a case of mass traumatic bonding.

“It is my strong recommendation that the Vanguard pursue a reeducation curriculum before #3801 invites any Guardians of the City to defect to his service, a possibility which we have documented in multiple previous reports.”

Bungie. Destiny 2: Forsaken – Season of the Drifter. Lore Book: Stolen Intelligence. Passivity. Activision Entertainment, 2019.

Other entries detail the efforts of the Vanguard from keeping ostensible “conspiracy theories” from being published in the Cryptarchy’s journals; show the apparent oddity of mortal-Guardian “integrated neighborhoods;” and discuss the ongoing surveillance of the Drifter, a rogue Lightbearer who has survived since the early Dark Ages and who uses Darkness-aligned technology to run a PVEVP game called “Gambit”.

There are many other stories like these, scattered throughout the lore. Stories of Cryptarchy students being banished for making fun of New Monarchy’s leaders, of Guardians messing with Hive technology being burned alive and killed fully by the Praxic Order for their crimes of experimentation. Stories like these wouldn’t happen – couldn’t happen! – to our Guardian, because they’re too important, but are seemingly everyday occurrences to less consequential members of this society. In the real world, we’d call that an increasingly oppressive police state. In Destiny 2, it’s just flavor text.

There was a degree of narrative complexity added to Season of the Drifter that hadn’t been in the game prior. The entire season was essentially boiled down to “which side are you on, the Drifter’s or the Vanguard’s,” and in our path to make a choice, we heard from various bit players in our world. The Drifter told us his story in greater detail than perhaps we needed (and how much of it is true is debatable), but his story is also the story of a less morally-pure Guardian class. Everyone from the warlords to the Iron Lords did heinous shit to humanity while the Drifter watched, and it hardened him. The Praxic Warlock Aunor goes all in on her adherence to the City’s propaganda and ideology, trying to show us how untrustworthy the Drifter is. She ends up revealing more of her order’s goals than perhaps was wise.

This narrative complexity is nice, but it still betrays the game in a fundamental way. We now have the documents. We know what Guardians are actually about, and how they’re not exactly shining beacons of unwavering good like the Speaker would have had us believe. Regardless of declining Fallen activity, of a shift in Fallen culture, of actual living Fallen who want to ally with Guardians, the Vanguard is still adamantly pursuing “extirpation,” which is a fancy way of saying genocide (I’m not kidding, it literally means “root out and destroy completely”). We know the Vanguard and the Praxic Order have a hard-on for exile, reeducation and information suppression.

On top of everything, the narrative complexity was not met with any kind of mechanical complexity. Even with proof that the Vanguard wants to kill every Eliksni in the system, conscientious objectors don’t get to opt out. The narrative path that forks between the Drifter and Aunor converges again by the end of the quest. The “conspiracy theorist” that has been trying to publish paper after paper detailing exactly how the Nine worked with Dominus Ghaul to sneak his fleet into City airspace undetected was proven right by lore WE FIND IN THE GAME, but that doesn’t change our combat relationship with the Cabal remnants anywhere in the system, and homeboy still gets his papers rejected.

Ikora and Zavala, our remaining Vanguard members, insist repeatedly that Guardians are not a warfighting force, that the Vanguard and the Consensus is not an authoritarian organization. But everything we do says otherwise.

“A peace born from violence is no peace at all.”

Guardians do not get to choose their paths in the world of Destiny 2. The paths laid out before them lead to a life of warfare, of pain, of endless murder. Ostensibly, they are agents of good, trying to beat back the forces of evil, but if you look too close you see that really they’re just a bunch of indiscriminate killers with a mandate from the Orb God. Desperate to get out from under the heels of warlords, the Guardians created a fascist society, and adding insult to injury they pretend it’s a democratic, free one. Killing the Fallen is genocide, but you can literally never stop killing them because the game won’t let you. The only right way to play at that point is to turn off your console and go outside.

Destiny 2 isn’t the only video game to fall into this trap. As Nic Reuben said in the follow-up piece to his first story on how Destiny 2 is fascist, “I’m not saying Destiny is propaganda, just reliant on some of the same narrative tricks that make propaganda so powerful. At the same time, I don’t think that it’s too much of a stretch to say that games like Call of Duty make certain assumptions about what is justifiable, righteous slaughter and what is terrorism. Replace modern military hardware with future tech, replace terrorists with alien races that have traits synonymous with cartoon portrayals of traditionally marginalized social groups, and you’re effectively playing through the worst aspects of Call of Duty with a new coat of a paint.”

There is one glimmer of hope in the game. One sliver of lore that gives us pause and helps make the game bearable in its current state. It comes in the form of Lady Efrideet, former Iron Banner handler, youngest member of the Iron Lords, and a Guardian in self-exile from the City, the Vanguard, and its fascist dogma.

Lady Efrideet is one of the most fearsome Hunters in the Destiny universe. She is known as one of the best marksmen, if not the best one. She is impossibly strong, having once thrown Lord Saladin bodily off a mountain into a Fallen Spider Walker, destroying it. And she is also one of the only named pacifist Guardians who isn’t a member of the Cryptarchy. Her story is the story of the fall of the Iron Lords, as well as the beginning of the SIVA crisis, many years before our Guardian’s rise is documented.

But it isn’t SIVA or the Iron Lords that we’re interested in. Instead, we know that after SIVA was sealed away, Efrideet snuck away from Earth. She saw the deaths of everyone she knew and her will to fight was shattered. If this was the result of fighting for the Traveler, she didn’t want any part in it. So she took to the stars. In doing so, she ended up in the far reaches of the solar system, beyond even where we currently roam. It turns out, a small enclave of other Lightbearers, hesitant or unwilling to use their powers to kill, had also fled to this part of the system and had established a colony. It’s there that Efrideet resides, and it’s there I’d like to go.

Unfortunately, our Guardian is too “important” to the vast tidal forces at work in the Destiny universe for us to be able to leave for the outer reaches whenever we want. Because we are the hub on which the wheel of history turns, and there is no escaping that now, if ever we could. We are death, the flattening of a complex and intricate universe into one of simple shapes, the sword logic in a human/Awoken/Exo body. We are needed for the plans of the Nine/Mara Sov/Hive Queen Savathun to come to fruition. When or if the Darkness ever does come back, we will be the force that faces it and, win or lose, shape our future afterward.

Sometimes it’s nice having a video game place your character on a linear track. Games like Half-Life or Titanfall present to us simple choices in otherwise-complex story environments: progress, or die. Our characters are not immortal, but they have help from the technologies around us, are tenacious, are resourceful, are quick to adapt to changing situations. In Destiny, we simply exist. We can’t truly die. Even when it comes to the rules of the game, our immense “paracausality” causes us to shrug Darkness Zones off as mere inconveniences where other Guardians have died their final deaths. Because we are necessary. The Vanguard and Consensus need us to justify their horrific fascist policies. The great forces at work in the background need us to work as a pawn. Even Bungie itself needs us, powerful, trapped beings with a sense of right and wrong but no agency to actually act on those ethics, to continue its game.

I haven’t preordered Shadowkeep yet. For once I’m glad we’re not focusing on the Fallen or the Cabal. Going to the Moon means we’ll pretty much just be dealing with Hive, to say nothing of the unreal Nightmares we’re supposed to face. But I’m still undecided as to whether I even want to order Shadowkeep in the first place. If Lady Efrideet can go to the edge of known space and live peacefully with other pacifist Guardians, maybe I can put my controller down and step away, once and for all. It would be nice to have the extra space on my Xbox One’s hard drive. Other games exist to be played, and having the time and energy to do so would help me here, with No Escape.

But even then. I’m not expressing agency as a Guardian, but rather as the person who controls you, Guardian. While I go off to play other games, you sit and wait in stasis. Even if I don’t play, there are a million iterations of you willing to commit genocide daily for cheap rewards (shoutouts to the sixtieth Edge Transit drop in my inventory this month alone). Sure, it’s just a game. But this is what having a dynamic world means in practice. There are consequences to your actions. There always have been.

There is no reason why Humanity couldn’t share the Traveler’s gifts with, at the very least, the Eliksni. There is no reason why we couldn’t just ignore the Cabal in a state of mutually assured destruction, given how small a faction the Red Legion was relative to the Cabal army’s full size. Of the two remaining enemies, the Vex are less evil than they are simply a thing that wants the universe to be like it, and that’s threatening to diverse life throughout the universe, not just Humanity. The Hive/Taken are the true enemies in the game, but even they are directed, pawn-like, by their Worm Gods.

There is, likewise, no reason why the Risen had to organize in the fascist context they did. They could have created a society in which everyone could come and go freely, where ideas and actions could be given and received absent interference, where a true “golden age” could have sprung up naturally simply by living together harmoniously and using the Light the Traveler gave them to create, rather than destroy.

But that’s not how this story shakes out.

[rinusagitora]

The love, lead, and the undead.

Fandom: Monster Prom

Characters: Vicky Schmidt, Damien LaVey, Brian Yu, Oz, Zoe, Lucien LaVey, Stan LaVey, Vera Oberlin

Pairings: Brian/Damien/Vicky, Oz/Zoe, Stan/Lucien

Words: 3.5k

Summary: Canon divergent. Chapter 4/?. WARNINGS— mentions of csa, childhood abuse, gore, violence, unreality; Vicky meets more family than she wants, and Oz and Zoe continue their search.

Oz felt great! Not only did he save Brian from a tragic tailspin which ended in Brian's violent death in a coke house, but he got Brian two dates on top of that.

He kissed Zoe. She was beautiful, how her tendrils bounced like Victorian curls as they hopped beneath colored lights and heavy music. He wasn’t one for nightlife or dancing, but everything was more fun with Zoe and with the knowledge that none of his friends were due for expiration.

Zoe gave his phobias another drink, he felt like he swallowed unbridled rapture.

His legs gave out and he fell to the floor.

---

Blood and soot spilled from his fingertips. His index fingers were curled. Blood drained into his eyes as brain matter floated midair like soap bubbles.

There were screams. They echoed around him like they echoed off mountains.

He fell. Blue snakes covered his eyes. He fell, fell, fell into pits of lightning and vats of bloodshed and drowned in the taste of metal.

---

His mouth tasted like cotton candy. Zoe held him up by his pits with a couple of her appendages and there were tears in her many, many eyes.

“Oz?” she said. “Oz, what the hell was that?”

He couldn’t catch his breath. Had he not saved Brian? Were there other triggers that drove him to drugs? Was Oz wrong from the beginning? Could the snakes have meant Vera instead? His head spun. He pushed Zoe away and dry heaved due to his headache.

Zoe rubbed his back. She didn’t move an inch, even as other dancers collided into them.

“We were wrong, weren’t we?” she said. “We need to keep looking.”

As he clutched Zoe’s arm, he nodded. Time was of the essence.

---

Vicky's fingers dug into the sides of the toilet. The morning light made her head pound. She gagged. Her stomach shoved itself into her throat. Thankfully, all she had for ten hours was water, but her heaves were still painful.

The worst of it was that refused to purge her anxiety like it purged her stomach acid.

When Vicky wiped her face, she recalled Damien's conversation with her and Brian. He wanted them to meet his parents. But Vicky wasn't anything impressive. She was cowardly and filthy and used up, and Damien was a prince. His fathers were sure to look down their nose at her. He deserved better than Vicky could have ever offered.

The three of them gathered in front of campus after school. Brian drove them to her apartment, where Damien drew a portal to Hell on her wall in chalk.

"Close your eyes," he told them, "don't open them until I say."

He grabbed their hands and dragged them through. For a split second, Vicky was assaulted by the kind of heat that singed her hair and the screams of thousands of anguished souls followed as they echoed in a stone amphitheater.

It cut out a second later. "You guys are good now," said Damien.

They were in his room. It was clean, unremarkable. He quickly led them outside. “My dads are in the family room. It’s this way.”

“This is surprisingly domestic,” Vicky remarked. There were beige carpet and pictures on eggshell-colored walls outside. She expected weathered stone and armor stands, or something gruesome and gothic.

“My parents built this under the castle. They say it helps them compartmentalize or something.”

“Well, this isn’t nearly as scary as I expected. I was gearing up for a torture dungeon and guards with pitchforks.”

“Oh, there are plenty of dungeons. They’re just upstairs.”

Damien opened the door into the family room. His parents were a giant blue horned creature and a scrawny red thing vaguely reminiscent of Oz, with his monochromatic eyes and absence of a mouth. They both wore sweats and t-shirts and had PlayThing controllers in hand.

“Hey, dads,” Damien said, “these are my partners: Brian and Vicky. Brian, Vicky, these are my dads. That’s Stan,” he pointed to the blue man, “and Lucien,” he then pointed at the red demon.

“Well, hello there! We’ve heard so many good things about the two of you. Damien never shuts up! In fact, sometimes he gets so excited and starts talking so fast that I only understand every other word. Come, sit,” said Lucien, after he furiously shook her and Brian’s hands.

“Dad, please,” Damien bashfully mumbled.

Vicky sat beside Stan. She felt like a bug.

“So, tell us more about you,” Lucien said.

“Well,” Brian began, “I play football, keep my grade point average around two-point-nine so I can stay on the team. I like alcohol. I’ve been infatuated with Brian and Vicky for around nine months now. Oh, I can sleep past three in the afternoon given the opportunity, too, but that’s only because I’ve royally fucked over my sleep schedule thanks to our friends Oz and Zoe keeping me up until godforsaken hours of the morning binging our shows.”

When Vicky’s turn came, she felt trapped. Embarrassed. The only things about her were tragedy and robbery. “Well… I’m an A-student. I make a living bank-robbing, sometimes I go bowling with my friends Vera and Liam. I get creamed every time.”

“God, me too. I tried throwing the ball instead of rolling it, and we got kicked out,” Stan said.

“Y’know, I tried throwing it too, but I ended up breaking the floor.”

“It’s all in the wrist. I’ll show you the next time we go bowling,” Stan promised.

“So… plans for college? Or marriage?” Lucien asked.

Brian and Vicky choked on their spit. “Dad,” Damien hissed, “we’re not there yet!”

“Well, don’t you like them, Damien?”

“Of course, but it makes people uncomfortable talking about it, dad,” Damien argued.

“Lucien, he’s right. Asking couples from the surface about marriage makes them incredibly awkward for some reason,” Stan said.

Lucien sighed. “Alright, I apologize. Is college still a safe topic?”

“Yeah,” Brian replied. “I’ve been offered a couple of sports scholarships.”

“I, uh…” Vicky swallowed the lump in her throat. She didn’t have any plans for her future. The furthest ahead she planned for her future was her next bank robbery and her next exam. Meanwhile, Brian already had college lined up, and Damien’s future was secured by his kingdom and passion for cosmetology. It was like there was no future for Vicky, only survival in the present.

“I’ve been submitting applications to colleges. I’m not entirely sure what I want to do, though,” she lied.

“You have your whole life ahead of you, Vicky. You don’t have to have the whole thing laid out yet,” Lucien reassured her. “Life sure as hell didn’t go as planned for us, after all.”

Stan sighed wistfully. “I didn’t expect I’d be king. My siblings all killed each other, so I just assumed I’d be killed in a power struggle as well. I certainly didn’t foresee marrying and bearing a child with my archnemesis.” He held Lucien’s hand with an adoring smile. “I wouldn’t change a thing, though. Maybe in time, you’ll find a place with us in Hell if you can’t find anywhere else, Vicky. God knows you’re already damned even being near our son.”

Vicky felt like the walls peeled and buried her beneath paint chips. “If I could be excused,” she said, “I need to use the restroom.”

"Take a right, it'll be the second door on the right.”

Vicky escaped into the bathroom, locked the door, and spiraled into a panic attack so extreme she had to brace the sink to keep herself upright. Her tears and snot trickled down the drain as Vicky struggled to catch her breath among her loathful and livid thoughts. Lucien and Stan were unimpressed, and it was only a matter of time before Damien realized she was a dud and left her, or worse, never spoke to his family again thanks to her.

She wept and fell onto the linoleum, where she curled up into a tight ball.

A knock came from the door. “Babe? Are you alright?” Damien asked.

“I-I’m fine,” Vicky said nasally, an obvious giveaway for her very much not okay-ness. She cursed under her breath. “I just need a minute.”

“Hey, are you crying?”

“No.”

“You sound like you’re crying. I know what you sound like when you’re crying. Baby, let me in, let’s talk about this. Open the door.”

Vicky mechanically opened the door. She couldn’t look Damien in the eye, even when he lifted her face up. She squeezed her eyelids so tightly it made her ears rumble.

“Look at me. What’s wrong? You’re kinda freaking me out, babe.”

“Just,” Vicky groaned and wiped her face with toilet paper, “they don’t like me. Your dads.”

“Of course they like you. They were really excited to meet you and Brian.”

“No! I’m a whore, they’re gonna figure out I’m cheap and forgettable. You’re a prince. I’m gonna drag you down one of these days.”

“I don’t really want to rule Hell, babe. They may not understand that, but my dads will try. And they do like you, a lot, in fact. They think you’re down to earth and polite. Politically, they think you’d be a relatable symbol to bring the royal family closer to our citizens. They want you to be a part of our family. I want that too.”

Vicky stood still as stone as Damien hugged her. He was so intense, it was too much for her. “I love you so much,” Damien said, “what can I do to help you feel better, Vicky?”

She shook her head. “I’m just… scared. I’m out of my element.”

“I understand, but you’re gonna be fine. Brian and I are here for you! We’re always here for you.” Damien helped Vicky clean up her face of tears and snot. “Let’s get you fixed up and have some dinner. Dad made ravioli.”

“Okay.”

Vicky shoved her face back into place and dabbed her face dry with toilet paper. Damien kissed her before he led her into the conjoined kitchen and dining room.

She was not comfortable among Damien’s family. She was unused to affection and proximity, like how Lucien pet her hair, or how Damien jostled her back and forth while he told them of one of their hijinks, but her boyfriends were happy, and Vicky wanted to be happy with them for the time being before she learned how to be happy with a family on her own.

Damien took Brian and Vicky back into his room after dinner. “Are you sure you guys have to go home? There’s a king-sized bed in the guest room we can use.”

“I’d feel weird staying here…. I don’t do well in sleepovers,” Vicky said

“And I won’t lie, I've been putting off my extra credit for, like, a month, and it's due tomorrow morning," replied Brian.

Damien sighed. "Alright. I'll see you guys tomorrow, then."

She and Brian tumbled through the doorway into their world and emerged in her bedroom. Vicky kissed Brian goodnight on his way out.

It was nice to be home after her exhaustive episode at Damien’s house. But she had work she needed to do, so she dialed for Vera.

“Hi. I figured I should ask how the plans are coming along,” Vicky said.

“Splendidly. I’m glad you called,” said Vera. “Something occurred to me the other day. We get tons of cash from the banks, but imagine the payout getting just as much money from a drug lab, and taking their product and selling it. No middle man, just an enormous profit after we sell it to dealers. I crunched the numbers and we’ll make almost twice what we do robbing banks.”

That was enough to convince Vicky. “That sounds great! We’ll have to take precautions, though. They’ll have tons of guns if we rob a lab.”

“Absolutely. But that’s why we’ll do it the day after tomorrow. I’m having full gear shipped in. Body armor, automatic weapons, cell jammers, the whole gambit.”

“That’s great.”

“There’s still the issue of us getting ambushed, though. Most of these labs I’ve had scouted have at least seven people in there. Drugs, seven hardened criminals against the two of us, plus guns? Even with body armor, I don’t like those odds, so I wanted to ask you something.”

“Okay. What did you want to ask?”

“This won’t be much different from our ordinary arrangement. The thing is with these labs: they’ll have product and money stashed everywhere. Can you keep seven people at bay while I search the house? I can handle the jammers, tying everyone up, and whatever miscellaneous tasks that come up since seven people are a lot to handle for anyone, but I need you to keep them under control.”

“Of course. It should be easy once we’ve frisked them and tied them up.”

“Vicky, you are amazing, you know,” Vera said. “I need your size, though.”

“I normally go with a medium. I’m twenty-eight, twenty-four, twenty-eight if that means anything.”

“Ooh, hourglass,” Vera cooed. “Alright. I’ll see you the day after tomorrow, Vicky. Have a good night.”

“You too, Vera. I love you. Sweet dreams.”

---

Vicky enjoyed her chemistry class. The smell of chlorine and formaldehyde made her giddy, but she was still exhausted from her visit to Hell. She only wanted to Brian and Damien on either side of her.

But Vicky had an exam. She studied hard for it and all that effort would have gone to waste if she played hooky. So she kissed Brian and Damien when she saw them that morning and then perused her notebook with formulas and compounds and the likes expertly drawn onto her notebook.

In the middle of the exam, Vicky was called to the office over the intercom. Fear struck her heart. Had someone found out about the robberies?

Vicky made her way to the administrator’s office. When she walked inside, a large creature, tall and bald, sat in the waiting area.

She wanted to puke.

"Vicky!" Eugene cried with delight. He lumbered over to Vicky, who was frozen in place. "I've missed you so much." His thick fingers brushed through her hair. She wanted to break his arm again and again until it was fucking paste.

"What're you doing here?" she asked.

"I told you. I've missed you so much, I want us to be a family again."

A family, like when he pinned her face in her pillows and took her raw like she was a slab of meat.

Vicky tore away from Eugene with a cry of horror. Blood rushed into her legs. The memory of his torment crashed around her like Eugene threw open the floodgates. Vicky had to hide from Eugene's bloodthirst. The forest should have been sufficient protection.

Outside, Damien and Scott caught her arm.

“Vicky, what’s wrong, you look like you saw a ghost,” Scott said.

“Let go!” Vicky screamed. She tugged her arm as hard as she could, but Scott was so much stronger than she was. "Help! Somebody help me!"

“Vicky, it’s us!” Damien said, “tell us what’s wrong.”

“He’s here! He’s going to hurt me!”

“Who’s going to hurt you?”

Vicky picked at her stitches. They unraveled, and her arm fell off in the middle of her forearm, and she took off as fast as her legs carried her. She ran until her eyes only saw the forest, the school was hidden behind leaves and wood, and Eugene disappeared with it.

---

"He?" Damien grumbled. Not a second later, it felt like he was kicked in the gut. “Eugene is here,” he realized.

He was back to hurt Vicky. His precious Vicky, whose smile outshined the moon and stars and who was brave enough to stand against the world with jolly comparable to the holiday spirit.

Damien never saw red so vividly when he took off for the administrator’s office.

He grabbed Eugene, a tall, bald man, by the back of his shirt, and heaved him into hellfire, where they disappeared into Damien’s room. Eugene instinctually froze as he processed the transportation, which Damien used to throw him across the room.

“You son of a bitch!” Damien boomed. “She used to be so happy, and you ruined her, so I’m gonna ruin you!”

Eugene pushed himself onto Damien’s bed. It was a fruitless escape, since Damien’s tail wrapped around Eugene’s ankle and pulled as hard as he could.

“Please don't do this,” Eugene pleaded.

“Did you stop when Vicky begged you to stop? Did you ever consider how much it hurt her being your sex toy? How much it hurt for a grown man to fuck a kid?” Damien grabbed him by his collar and threw him onto the floor. “You don’t fucking deserve to live, you sick bastard. I’m gonna throw you into a boiling cauldron and stab you for the rest of eternity with a motherfucking pitchfork!”

He kneeled on Eugene’s shoulders once he pinned Eugene to the floor. Damien pulled a knife from his waistband and stabbed Eugene square in the jugular. Eugene flailed and gurgled. Damien forced his head back by his chin, raised the knife high above them, and then slammed it down as hard as he could. He heard the knife snap when it severed Eugene’s spine and connected with the floor below them.

Eugene began to disintegrate into black ash. Damien had a lot to clean between the ash and blood. Damien breathed for a minute before he reached into his pocket to text Vera and Brian. Not a second later, Brian’s call came in.

“What the hell do you mean Vicky is missing?” he screamed over the receiver.

“I mean she ran into the forest not too long ago and we need to look for her before it gets dark,” Damien said he wiped his nose on his sleeve. “I need to do some cleanup at home before I can come back.”

“What kind of cleanup, Damien?”

“Eugene was a real bastard to her as a kid. He decided to pay her a visit. I took care of him, but I need to clean my room before my parents get back,” Damien explained. "We need to keep this between us for now, though, okay?"

“... thank you, I’m sure she appreciates it. I love you. I’ll let you know when we find Vicky, okay?”

“Thanks, Brian. I love you too.”

---

It became unbelievably cold as dusk rolled around. The cold bit at her skin like rats nibbled at dying flesh.

“Vicky?”

When her name was called, Vicky covered her sobs with her hands. Not a sound escaped between her fingers despite how her heart tumbled into her gut. She rocked in place. Her efforts for self-preservation were useless.

"Baby, it's me," Brian said. "Come down here."

Vicky carefully opened her eyes. Brian stood alone on the ground with a flashlight pointed into the pine tree to illuminate her.

"We've been looking for you for hours, Vicky. Let's take you home."

"No!" she snapped. "He's still out there. He knows where I am. He's going to hurt me!"

"Vicky, Eugene will never hurt you again. You have me and Damien who'll protect you. I know Vera would do just about anything to keep you safe."

Vicky cursed herself. Brian was dirty and tired of searching for the forest. She was so juvenile in her fear, to run and hide. Brian and Damien must have been worried sick. Vera must have been pretty put out as well.

She made her way down the tree trunk and ran into Brian's embrace. He squeezed her like he wanted to mold them together.

"I'm sorry," Vicky said. "He was gonna do something awful, though! I'm a little toy to Eugene. You guys wouldn't recognize me when he was done. I didn't know what else to other than run as far away as I could. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you guys."

Brian, with his face buried in her neck, said, "It's okay. I'm just so glad you're safe. Let's put this awfulness behind us and go home."

Vicky nodded obediently.

Her arm was in the back of Brian's truck. She pulled it into her lap. Vicky couldn't reattach it in the car since it was too shaky, but she was glad to have it back.

It still felt like Eugene was just outside the door with a hook in hand. Vicky clutched her arm like a club.

When Brian parked outside Vicky's apartment, she saw Damien pace through the window. His hands raked through his hair, his tail twitched like the tail of a nervous cat. Brian guided her inside by her hand. Vicky felt awful. He must have been so worried about her.

Damien looked like the weight of the world fell off his shoulders when she walked inside.

"I'm so glad you're okay, " he said.

"I'm sorry, " Vicky replied as she hugged her disembodied arm to her chest, "I got scared and ran."

He pulled her hands into his own. He kissed her knuckles. "Let's get you cleaned up."

Vicky's shower was too small for even two of them to occupy, but Brian brought her a clean set of clothes and Damien found quilts stashed in her closet. The three of them wordlessly laid together, she was sandwiched between Brian and Damien, like they were shields.

They weren't enough for Vicky to tear her eyes away from her door until she finally couldn't keep her eyes open any longer.

[dontcallmecarrie]

Something that'd be interesting to see is your take on Fury becoming more proactive in Tony's childhood. Him seeing Howard's lack of parenting/interaction and Obadiah creeping in on Tony and deciding that it would be better if he got involved with Tony instead.

I assume you’re talking about Watch The Power Fold, feat. Obadiah’s being Palpatine 2.0 and influencing Tony? The one that wasn’t meant to be a happy AU, except my brain can’t do angst and cue fixit that’ll give everyone headaches down the road? Under the cut, because it went from ‘fixit’ to ‘fixit that grew legs and plot and fuck this is another fic now isn’t it’ pretty damn fast.

Nick Fury hadn’t intended to, is the thing. Howard had been very, very firm about keeping his son out of SHIELD, and Fury hadn’t disagreed, given the nature of what they got up to sometimes. Not when the kid had grown on him [even if he wouldn’t admit it under pain of death]. 

He’d seen Tony grow up, had seen him around when he was in the mansion working with Howard, had heard Howard’s talking warmly of his son. Nick Fury’d seen Tony grow up more than his father did, actually, what with working security for the family of the cofounder of SHIELD while Howard was away on business, or searching for Captain America. 

So, yes, the kid’d grown on him, so what? Only thing is, the more time goes on, the busier things get, and…the more some things don’t sit right with Fury. Specifically, while Howard had done his best to keep his family and SHIELD separate, he had a bad habit of taking his work home when it came to Stark Industries, and that’s where things get…dicey.  

Fury can’t explain just why Obadiah Stane rubs him wrong, just that he does. It makes sense that the man’s trying to ingratiate himself to Howard’s family, what with working with them and all, and his background checks out, but. Something doesn’t sit right with Fury, plain and simple. The way Obadiah’s set himself up as a fun uncle figure isn’t actually suspicious, after all: the one time he’d brought it up, both Peggy and Howard had joked about his being too paranoid. 

In one life, he’d avoid approaching Tony until decades later. Here, however…

He’d been suspicious, before the accident. Afterwards, however? The situation’s got him gritting his teeth but trying to still respect Howard’s wishes, right up until the only other adult figure in the kid’s life that isn’t Obadiah has a heart attack, not six months after the accident. 

By now, Fury’s the Director of SHIELD, he’s got better things to do than worry about how Tony was dealing with things. [Right?]

…then he sees the way Obadiah’s got some very shady friends who are this close to going on a watch list, and the way he’s acting around Tony, and goes, “fuck it, sorry Howard but your kid’s better off as my apprentice than that fucker’s pawn”.

Here, Fury is really, really blunt in his interference with Obadiah’s machinations. Instead of Tony leaning on Obie [and thus playing right into his hands], here, Fury basically barges in and drags him off.

Well, no; more like bribes him off, because where Obie would’ve gone “do you know what your father used to say?”, Fury’s just there and going “hey kid we’ve got some of your dad’s notes from his other job, you interested?” which, combined with Tony having seen him around the mansion as a kid, means Tony decides to check it out. 

That the one-eyed guy’s got some stories to tell about his dad really, really helps, too. As does the fact that his dad apparently helped found a vague yet menacing government agency, and even if it hurts that he never knew, Tony still wants to learn more, and Fury is more than willing to deliver.  Add to that a bunch of cool-looking projects, and adults who treat him as a slightly short coworker, and Tony’s basically hooked; even if Obie wanted him to ditch, he wouldn’t.

Sure, it eats up a huge chunk of time, and Tony’s slightly sorry that he can’t spend as much time with Obie anymore, but…he’s learning things, so there’s that? Between wrapping up his doctorates, gearing up to become the CEO of his dad’s company, and this, he’s booked, but it’s worth it. He’s learning about international politics from the inside, seeing actual spies doing their thing and getting ideas for optimizing weapon designs, and the list just goes on because Tony winds up as Fury’s apprentice. [Somehow.]

From the head honcho himself, Tony’s learning to be The Spy, learns about watching his back to keep it from being stabbed, about how good people are few and far between, about the value of blackmail and how to keep an ear on the ground. Life lessons that aren’t what some would like to impart, but invaluable in survival when swimming with sharks. 

Much like Howard, dealing with the intelligence community takes a toll on Tony. Unlike Howard, however, Tony got some coping mechanisms drilled into his head early on in the game, because Fury’d already seen one Stark become an alcoholic, no need to add to that number. Also, Tony’s not as obsessed with searching for Captain America, there’s that, too, and that JARVIS can watch his back is invaluable to his peace of mind. 

He’s also taken to using a pseudonym in SHIELD, just in case. Well, that, and also because the comparisons to Howard are really, really getting on his nerves [plus the rumors of nepotism can fuck right off]. As far as aliases go, Antonio Carbonell may sound pretty damn obvious, but between contact lenses and switching up accents, nobody not in the know’s caught on so far.

All in all, Tony’s basically following in his father’s footsteps, set to inherit both Stark Industries and a very high post in SHIELD if he keeps it up. He’s not under Obie’s thumb, and in fact isn’t actually as trusting as he might have been otherwise, so the man can’t do as much double-dealing as he might have otherwise. Sure, Tony’s pretty damn busy, and that people on occasion tend to compare him to Howard even more than they might have otherwise tends to get on his nerves, but otherwise? Tony’s not complaining. 

On the other hand, Nick Fury got quite a bit of criticism for doing what he did, roping Tony into SHIELD and making him his apprentice. Some of the higher-ups also knew about Howard’s not wanting to involve his family, and that Fury chose Tony, aka the media’s favorite person, to be a possible future head of SHIELD was not exactly a popular choice. Some thought he was taking advantage of the situation, forcing a grieving orphan and molding him to basically fill his father’s shoes, and…well, they’re not wrong per se. Not like they could do anything about it, though; Fury’s too high up the chain, after all. 

…the critics shut up after the Merchant of Death first made his appearance. 

And here’s where the headache component starts to kick in, because Fury took Tony in under his wing, after he lost not just his parents but Jarvis as well. Here, Tony’s spent over a year learning the ropes from the best. Here, the Merchant of Death is honest-to-goodness pretty damn terrifying, actually. 

Moments like that, it’s pretty damn easy to tell why Nick Fury chose him as his apprentice, early rumors of nepotism be damned.

Time goes by, Tony gets older, and things keep escalating as his clearance goes up. He’s pretty damn busy nowadays, but sometimes there’s projects that catch his eye that get mentioned in his dad’s notes, and that’s the story of how he invents a new element in a SHIELD bunker while running on four hours of sleep and seventeen cups of coffee. 

Time passes, and Fury’s only slightly regretful of the way things’ve panned out: Tony’s quite a bit more jaded than in canon, having Seen Some Shit while working in SHIELD, but…still better than being under Obadiah’s thumb, right? Sure, he got sucked into SHIELD exactly the way Howard had been trying to avoid, but…fuck he’s regretting it. 

Part of said regret comes from the headache he gets from…well. See, in one life Tony had Uncle Obie to lean on. Here, however, Fury kinda took his place, only he’s genuinely invested in Tony’s life. What that means is, Nick Fury maaybe might have kind of adopted Tony, in a sense. Just a little, though, more like Tony’s his favorite the same way Coulson has his with Barton and Romanov.  [yeah, right]

Speaking of which: man does that matchup give everyone migraines. Clint and Tony met pretty early on, and got into a snark-off after Clint made a crack about Tony’s age and Tony made a crack about Clint’s arrows and somehow that ended up with them commandeering a gun range, several prototypes, and geeking out over blast radii. By the time Natasha enters the picture, just the mention of Barton and Stark has the quartermaster groaning. With Natasha, however, Tony reveals just how unnervingly good he is at masks, weirding out everyone else in the room and their team-up quickly becomes a favorite for deep cover missions. 

…not that it happens all that often, however. After all, Tony’s got a company to run, and in SHIELD he’s been on the administrative track since Day One, rather than on the field. It still happens with enough regularity to give everyone else headaches, though. 

By the time we’ve reached Afghanistan, Tony’s been the Merchant of Death for years, and is also secretly the Assistant Deputy Director of SHIELD, which is pretty high up the chain. Main reason he’s not even higher is because of the time commitment; he’s pretty damn busy as is, and he refuses to be Howard. 2.0 with a shitty work-life balance. He’s sick of being compared to the man, and that Obie doesn’t approve of his work outside SI means he’s acutely aware of the parallels.

Afghanistan still happens. Only here, it’s because he’s heard rumors of his company double-dealing, and Tony Stark’s weapons demo had been planned as a front for Antonio Carbonell to look into things.

…suffice it is to say, his kidnapping throws a huge wrench into the works.

Especially because Tony’s not a civilian; he’s Seen Some Shit in SHIELD, after all. He’s had RTI training, has run support on ops that’ve gone to shit, so he’s prepared. Mostly. [Waterboarding still sucks, though, and the arc reactor’s installation was…not fun.] 

Still, could’ve been worse. At least he’s still got both eyes intact. Plus he managed to escape, and even managed to drag Yinsen out too. [He’d do well in SHIELD.]

Even better, however, is the intel he got from the shitshow, and that’s also the story of how Obadiah Stane disappears mysteriously less than a month later. Or, rather, no; died in a plane crash, right. Good riddance, even if Tony still felt a pang of…something, when he’d learned about the betrayal. 

[…Fury may or may not have tapped Coulson to handle it personally.]

Iron Man still exists. Only here, Tony sticks to the cards, because he is intimately aware of the value of secrecy, what with having worked with a shadowy government agency for half his life now, and he learned from the best.  Sometimes it’s JARVIS that’s piloting the suit, because Tony’s busy enough as is between his work at  Stark Industries, and career at SHIELD.

Time goes on, and when the palladium thing comes up, Tony bolts to his new  element as an option, and is very relieved when it works. However, he still steps down as CEO of SI, because between Stark Industries, SHIELD, and Iron Man, he’s clocking an average of four hours of sleep and, again, he’s not Howard, he wants a sane work-life balance.

Time goes on, and canon gets summarily derailed. Dealing with Vanko was a headache, though on the plus side his long, long experience with bureaucracy and government organizations means Tony’s keeping Iron Man out of military hands was a snap. Plus the face Natasha made, when she saw him as Tony and not Antonio, was worth it, even if it also meant she wouldn’t go easy on him the next time they sparred…oh, yeah, and he was also tapped to be a consultant for the Avengers Initiative, but what were the odds of that happening?  

Steve’s reaction to looking into Howard’s file, and then Tony’s, was…interesting.

Once he starts to get a read on the situation, he makes assumptions. Assumptions that Tony does not appreciate at all, because excuse you, Rogers, just because he copied some of his old man’s career moves doesn’t mean he’s Howard 2.0, fuck you very much. 

Suffice it is to say, they don’t exactly get along very well at first. 

Tony hates being compared to Howard, especially since he’d taken great pains to make his career in SHIELD his own. Literally the only reason Steve knows about the Tony Stark = Antonio Carbonell thing is because of his being an Avenger, plus good luck hiding the familiarity he has with Clint and Natasha. But Tony manages to be professional; kinda hard not to, after the long, long list of assholes he’s had to work with over the years. If he could deal with Ward’s being a self-entitled prick, no way is he going to let some supersoldier cramp his style, nope.

Bruce’s biggest concern in all this is the discovery that he got in when he was 17, but Tony hand-waved it with a “working with Fury’s more fun than the guy who almost got me killed” that did not, in fact, comfort anyone else in the room. [Oops.] 

…okay, I can see this AU going one of two ways: 

Either Tony finds out about HYDRA a lot earlier [he doesn’t trust many people, has a powerful AI watching his back, and access to SHIELD’s databases. You do the math], thus derailing the events of The Winter Soldier. It’s a mess, mind, but it gets taken care of early on in canon.

or,

Tony’s basically front and center for the clusterfuck that happens when the Winter Soldier shows up. [exploring this one because cue angst]

Because this was Fury we’re talking about. Fury, who stepped in and basically adopted him after he’d lost his parents, lost Jarvis, was one of the few people in his life who hadn’t betrayed him—Fury, who’s been reported dead, killed by the Winter Solider. 

Suffice it is to say, Tony is not about to take that lying down.

When Steve’s just reeling from the ‘trust no one’ thing, Tony barges in, nodding tersely to Natasha and a hair away from going Merchant of Death on everyone. [They couldn’t have gotten rid of him if they’d tried.] The group ends up having an AI looking out for them, and the more time goes on the more personal it gets, because of obvious reasons. Tony ends up kind of copying T’Challa re: ‘hunting down the Winter Soldier because of a dead father figure’, and Tony only gets scarier as shit goes down. 

As in: Steve’d been taken aback, when he’d first learned of how shady SHIELD really was. The way Tony’d iced over, was playing with fire with a familiar ease and barking orders over encrypted comms, didn’t exactly help, either. Even if it was pretty damn useful at times, because turns out Antonio Carbonell’s position in the SHIELD chain of command means he’s hearing some really interesting things, and that he’s also the CEO of Stark Industries means it takes all of one (1) phone call to get Sam’s wings without ruffling any feathers. 

All in all, a good ally. Even if the parallels are basically smacking everyone in the face at this point, because Tony may have hated being compared to his father but there was no denying that there was a Stark involved in SHIELD for the entirety of its existence. That he’d been adopted mentored by Fury’s only the icing on the cake, really. 

So when the HYDRA reveal happens, well…

Tony goes scarily silent, after hearing Zola. Then, he wordlessly unloads a full three clips into the servers, and Steve and Natasha get a front row seat to a pissed-off Iron Man doing what he does best. There’s probably some poetic irony in Tony helping burn what his father created, but nobody involved really cares for it. 

With Tony on hand, stopping Project Insight’s a hell of a lot easier. Also, the collateral damage is reduced. If that means JARVIS helped filter out the innocents from being burned, or if the Iron Legion’s picking up everyone who’s not HYDRA, is up to you; no matter what, though, it is a mess and a nightmare in regards to paperwork. Silver lining to this mess, though: Tony’s learning about how his parents really died, and subsequent lashing out, means he’s mostly made his peace with the Winter Soldier. 

…mostly. It’ll take some time, anyway, but at least Tony’s not liable to blast him next time he sees him, which, combined with how he’s asked JARVIS to help Steve look for the guy, means it’s as good as it’s going to get for now, probably. [It helps that Fury survived.]

…kinda ran out of steam there. Oh, before I forget:

The events of IM3 either don’t happen, or go down differently, because as far as targets go, good fucking luck getting to him: his involvement in SHIELD means he’s paranoid af, just like Fury [learned from the best, after all].

JARVIS here’s even more powerful, what with Tony trusting him to watch his back when swimming with sharks, and is thus also a tad more Skynet than most’d be comfortable with. So’s the Iron Legion.

If, by some stroke of sheer dumb luck Kilian still manages to get to Tony, well…RIP, dude, for pissing off the Merchant of Death [and Fury’s kid, not that either Fury or Tony’ll admit it]

Also, Tony’s PTSD isn’t as big a thing here, what with his not being a civilian and Fury having made sure he’d learned healthy coping mechanisms early on.  

If it ever comes up, he’d be bffs with Sharon Carter, what with the ‘my parental figure helped found SHIELD and didn’t want me involved’ thing, as well as the ‘changed my name so my achievements are of my own merit’ thing. 

Steve’d look at the two, and facepalm forever.

Peggy Carter was actually one of the ones who disapproved of Fury’s bringing Tony into SHIELD; she was in the ‘you’re taking advantage of a grieving orphan to fill his father’s shoes, wtf is wrong with you’ camp. She wasn’t vocal about it, and never said anything to Tony, but she side-eyed Fury right up to her retirement. She did call to apologize after the Obadiah reveal, though, and Fury managed to have his “I fucking told you so” moment. [Ha. Who’s paranoid now?]

People that know about Tony Stark = Antonio Carbonell are few and far between; I’m talking Nick Fury, probably Phil Coulson because he was there in the early days when Tony snapped after one too many mentions of Howard Stark, and promptly hacked into the systems to change his name because is That Petty. For the most part, though, it’s on a need-to-know basis, and most people really don’t. [Not sure if HYDRA knew;  if they did, it took them a while to figure it out.]. 

No, Tony’s not Fury’s kid in all but name, what’re you talking about? So what if Tony takes after him sometimes, he’s his mentor for crying out loud! Of fucking course he’s going to pick up some things!

No, Fury didn’t adopt Howard’s kid, what the fuck kind of bullshit question is that? No, it’s not like the little shit grew on him, nope, it’s not like he’s fond of that pain in the ass or anything. That he was even pissier than usual when he went MIA’s a complete and utter coincidence, really.

...aka really pushing the family dynamic here.

uh-oh the more I think of it the more things it’d derail brain no

[edenfalling]

[Fic] “Makes You Stronger” - Girl Genius

Summary: A nebulous future-fic about psychic freeloaders and ways to remove them. (800 words)

Note: Written 9/3/18 for sheliak, in response to the prompt: Agatha Heterodyne (and/or Gil, and/or Tarvek), in order to be resurrected one must first die. It is also a Genprompt Bingo fill for the square suicide. (Nobody actually dies in this story.)

--------------------------------------------- Makes You Stronger ---------------------------------------------

"Drinking from the Dyne did nothing about Lucrezia the first time, not to mention it very nearly killed you!" Tarvek said, pointing his dessert fork across the workbench with a wide-eyed expression of betrayal. It was adorable, even though Agatha knew it was artificially constructed. She was pretty sure he meant it to cover trained blandness that was covering genuine concern, like a cake whose layers were all different flavors from what they looked like -- ridiculous and far more effort than it was worth to construct, but still delicious. And now she wanted more cake, drat. Fortunately, Gil's staff had already provided.

"Aside from the political disaster your death would precipitate, forgive me for wanting you to wait until I--"

"--until we--" Gil coughed.

"--until I, as the only member of our trio without a nonconsensual mental timeshare, but thank you for your unrequested input, Wulfenbach," Tarvek continued, absently fending Gil away from his half-finished cake slice with an implausibly large needle produced from up his sleeve, "finish designing a psychic removal procedure that is both less absurdly deadly and more likely to produce useful results than hacking at your neural tissue with a bread knife. There's no point repeating failed experiments."

Agatha grinned at him as she cut another slice from the multi-tiered strawberry and chocolate confection currently gracing the center of their little laboratory picnic. "But that's just it! I won't duplicate the conditions exactly -- for one thing, we're certainly not going to repeat your infection and the Si Vales Valeo, fascinating as the new data might be! -- because this time, I won't be wearing my locket. I hypothesize that the suppression mechanism has an unintended side effect of--"

"Oh!" Gil exclaimed, breaking off his attempt to steal Tarvek's cake. "Of course the shield works in both directions, keeping outside forces from interfering with her neural pattern just as it keeps her from interfering with yours. Why didn't we think of that before?"

Agatha loved how easily he could follow her train of thought.

Tarvek blinked. Then he made the needle disappear back up his sleeve and buried his face in his palm. "I'm an idiot."

"Don't be ridiculous; we all missed it," Agatha said around a mouthful of delicious, delicious cake. "The important thing is that I've thought of it now, and once we've used me as a test case, we can adapt the procedure for Gil. He's not a Heterodyne, but the Baron did enough genetic tampering over the years that he ought to survive -- and if not, there's always revivification!"

"I'm opposed on principle to any procedure where revivification is the first backup plan instead of the hundredth," Tarvek grumbled. "It's sloppy."

"It's also not possible in all cases," Gil pointed out. "I was a little distracted at the time, but I think the Castle mentioned explosions as the common method of death-by-Dyne-source. There might not be enough of you to piece back together, even if it does burn your mother out."

"Death by overload, yes, but that's why we'll build energy shunts into the psychic extraction apparatus," Agatha said, waving a bite of cake through a loop-de-loop by way of illustration. "The Castle can always use a bit of extra power, and that way even if I die, it should be from something simple to fix like a heart attack or aneurysm. Easy-peasy!"

Tarvek set down his fork, grabbed a clean napkin, and patted his waistcoat for a pen. "Yes, of course, but how would such an apparatus even work? Dyne energy can be extracted, obviously, but will we be working with that directly or, given that it's channeled through your brain, will we have to convert from something less convenient -- electrochemical nerve impulses, waste heat, etcetera -- into something more readily transmissible, like radio waves or electricity in a metal circuit? How will we determine the variables before--"

"Give me that, your diagram is terrible," Gil said, and yanked the napkin out from under Tarvek's hand. "Obviously you need to put the capacitors in a multi-thread array, not a single-thread chain. And we should find some test subjects to dose with the source before--"

"Your handwriting is terrible," Tarvek shot back, and leaned over Gil's shoulder to cross out his notes. "Those capacitors aren't for the energy shunt, they're for the psychic surgery, which naturally requires a more delicate touch than a oaf like you could possibly--"

Agatha laughed to herself as she finished her second slice of cake.

Then she grabbed an actual notepad from the next workbench over and slammed it down between her boys. "All right! I want my mother out of my head if it kills me, and I won't take no for an answer, from you or the laws of physics. Let's make this work!"

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

End of Ficlet

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

And that is that for my latest Genprompt Bingo card! \o/

[haruki-ya]

A Place to Crash (And Burn)

Summary:  Kai and Kaneda yell at each other a little bit and cry over cry baby Tetsuo. There’s lots more to it than that, but like kinda a lot....so read on if you truly dare.

A/N: REPOSTING this cause fuck it y not I ain’t ever gonna be fully happy with anything I write and I must come to terms with that by EMBRACING the ART of IMPERFECTION. She a thicc one tbh, close to 7,000 words wow (do u see why i said read on if u dare), but from a new character perspective that I was hesitant to try writing in and have @fridge-04 and @totallylegitakirafic to thank for so hey! thank you ! I think my attempt turned out all right! also totallylegit, can you spy with your little eye the Makiko reference? lol enjoy my LOVES <3

Kai couldn’t really say the loud knocking on his door at one in the morning woke him up because he had already been awake, lying in bed in the dark thinking about things of the past.

It had been a rough week, a sleepless week. One spent mourning a death that others celebrated. One spent missing a friend who others considered an enemy. Kai doesn't think there will be any closure for the surviving townspeople any time soon, even three years after the great fall of Neo Tokyo.

Most of their homes are still in shambles and they like to be angry anyway. Kai will admit it’s a more fulfilling emotion than hopelessness.

Kai waits a minute before rolling out of bed. There are only a handful of people who would come knocking on his door at this hour, but that means they’re familiar enough to know he likes to end his night early to start his day earlier. So whoever this is must not care or must know that he’s not sleeping. Or it’s an important matter, but that’s pretty unlikely.

As Kai stumbles through the dark of his loft towards the door, tripping over stray clothes and a stack of old newspapers, he hears voices from the outside. Kei’s annoyed tone rings out strong.

“...come on, I can’t entertain this behavior tonight. I’ve got to meet up with Chiyoko soon, you know that Kaneda.” There’s a mumbled response that Kai doesn’t catch, probably from Kaneda, as he opens the door to a sight that he isn’t really surprised to see.

Kei is dressed in cool, neutral tones and struggling to hold up the swaying form of Kaneda, who reeks of booze and cigarette smoke under her arm, obviously more fucked up than he’s been in a while. Her face is steely with annoyance under the brim of her cap, but when her eyes meet his there is a poorly concealed concern that makes Kai sigh suddenly and drop his shoulders. There’s also a badly hidden plea for help.

“Hello Kai. I really hate to ask this, but can you look after him for a while?”

“Uh…what?” Is the most eloquent response Kai can manage. Kaneda’s stilted voice cuts in before Kai can properly respond, but to be fair he doesn't even really know what to say.

“M’fine Kei, I don’t needa be babysat by a kid.” And that kinda stings, cause hello to you too asshole, and he’s younger than Kaneda sure, but he usually acts more mature than his childish ass and the digs at his age have been few and far in between since Yamagata passed...since the Capsules fell apart. Kai only manages to be annoyed by the comment.

Kei swats Kaneda over the head and pushes him against the wall next to Kai’s door, anger bursting across her face. Kaneda rubs at his head and tries to straighten to his full height and glare at Kei, but his gaze is unfocused and more squinted in what Kai would assume is pain than anger. Kai narrows his eyes at them and stifles a yawn suddenly behind his hand, unimpressed with their familiar antics. If they came all the way here to bother him, they're off to a good start.

“Cut it out Kaneda! I’ve had it with your bullshit attitude this week. I know things are tough for you right now, but that’s no excuse to treat your friends like garbage just to make yourself feel better!” Kei turns on Kai before Kaneda gears up to answer and ignores whatever he mumbles under his breath. It sounds suspiciously like “bitch” to Kai and now he kinda understands Kei's anger. He’s never stooped so low as to glare so fiercely at her while saying that. Kai is becoming more and more confused.

“I need to meet Chiyoko and the others, an emergency meetings been called. Some cultists have been gathering around the old stadium and rumor has it they’re planning something there during daylight. I can’t be dragging his drunk weight with me, he’ll only slow me down and annoy me to death before we’d arrive.” Kaneda snorts and pushes up from the wall and brushes past Kai into his dark apartment, cursing when he trips over something that clatters loudly. Kei’s eyes don’t leave his face, but the sharpness of her gaze wavers.

This is gonna be fun.

“Uh… so your first thought was to dump him on me? ” Kai's response is more of a statement than a question really. He's still kind of lost to this whole situation. It’s been a while since he’s seen Kaneda or Kei, though they’re practically a package deal now a days, and while he is glad to see them, always, part of him also feels bitter for being left out of their orbit for this long and suddenly be expected to so easily be pulled right back into it.

Ever since the distance started growing between Kai and Kaneda, and subsequently Kei too, he's dedicated more and more of his time to volunteering around the city doing odd jobs for people: moving rubble, cleaning up trash, helping deliver food. He does it in the hopes that maybe his dedicated efforts as one will equal out to the prior three. Kai hangs out at a friend of Joker’s shop in his spare time too and does his best to learn from the mechanic, but much of the slang Joker and his pals use still goes over his head. His habit of journaling and note taking has helped greatly though, a by product of an overactive brain and an inability to keep details oriented. Kaneda could probably benefit from that too.

Kaneda and Kei used to volunteer with him, used to stay over all the time and help at the local shelter down the block from Kai’s apartment, but when the power was restored to all the remaining blacked out city blocks and a semblance of order returned to the city, Kei’s Rebel group was quick to get in touch and reignite their cause. Kei didn’t really ask Kaneda to join her, or become what many call her right hand man, but he rose to the occasion better than anyone could have expected. Kai never got a formal invitation to join their ragtag team of rebels either, but he would have politely declined any how. He’s had enough action for a lifetime thank you very much, and he knows he wouldn't have filled any shoes as well as Kaneda could. No surprise there. He's not really bitter about it.

Kaneda is hard to pin down these days, becoming more of a myth than a real man, but where Kei is he’s not far off. She got him involved with many of the old resistance outposts that double as relief shelters, not quite done with their original purpose. As Kei said, there are still people praying to the dead and gone “Lord Akira”. They’re desperate enough to believe that someone with the power to take so much away, to cause so much devastation, can just as easily bring it all back.

If only it were that easy.

They’re relatively harmless, just a scattered group of vagabonds looking for some kind of purpose in this fucked up place, but sometimes they get a little too close to things they shouldn't. Sometimes they wind up in possession of objects that three years ago were dangerous in the wrong hands, fatal in the right ones. The remaining resistance members, as well as the spirited youth who join the cause daily, have taken it upon themselves to squash any and all attempts to get too close to something that can’t simply be reburied in rubble. The emergency meeting must be important.

Today is the third anniversary of Tetsuo’s death after all and cults tend to believe in the religious power of symbolic resurgence.  

Kei’s face softens as a light pours out suddenly from somewhere behind him, and her eyes follows suit as they both listen to Kaneda rifle around his fridge, probably looking for more booze. His attitude makes sense now that he's put two and two together, and Kai sighs again, sadly this time. He feels bad all of a sudden for being difficult.

“I’m sorry to come here like this Kai, with him, after we haven’t properly visited in a while...but I think it would be good for him to spend some time with an old friend. Maybe talk about whatever is making him want to drink himself unconscious with someone who can...better understand.”

Kai tries for a smile and it sort of works, despite feeling a little stiff on his face. He feel’s like there’s something else Kei isn’t telling him, another shoe that’s waiting to be dropped. There always is with these two.

Kei’s eyes narrow as the light from the fridge slowly shrinks and Kaneda moves onto his cupboards, opening and closing them a little too loudly for the time of night. Good think this floor of the building is mostly abandoned.  

“I don’t trust him alone right now.” She says lowly, and there it is. Kai can’t really blame her and also can't turn either of them away even if he wanted to so he sighs, again, and braces himself against the doorway.

“Yeah, I understand Kei, last year was pretty rough too. We got him through it though, and we, eh...I'll do it again. We always look out for each other after all.” Kei looks relieved by his words but far from consoled. Kaneda trips again in his apartment but looks to have stumbled into a lamp as a minute later light spills out behind him once again. It highlights the conflict on Kei’s face.

“Thank you. I’ll be back sometime in the early afternoon. I owe you one Kai.” He shakes his head at that and sends her a smile.

“No you don’t. He’d do the same for me if he had to. Be safe out there Kei and kick some Akiraist ass for us. ” Kei smiles softly and puts a hand on his shoulder for a moment before turning and walking briskly down the hallway, gone from his sight in just four paces. Leaving him alone with a moody drunk in his apartment.

Right, he should check in on that.

Kai closes the door and takes a moment to brace himself before he turns around into the living room, finds Kaneda sprawled on the futon, one leg hanging off the back, an arm over his eyes. His boots are kicked off haphazardly by the lamp and his jacket a makeshift pillow under his head. His other hand holds a bottle of liquor Kai didn’t even know he had. Leave it to Kaneda to sniff out any hidden spirits.

“Hey. Welcome. Make yourself at home, please I insist.” Kai intones dryly and settles into a sitting position on the floor, back against his makeshift coffee table. Kaneda grunts in reply.

“Long time no see Kaneda. I thought you said you weren’t gonna be a stranger?” Kaneda makes another noncommittal sound before throwing his arm from his face to take a swig of, what is that, aged whiskey? Why does Kai even have that?

“That’s gross, dude. How much have you had to drink today?” Kaneda’s reply is wet and rough.

“Not enough.” And Kai sighs. It had been pretty much the same last year.

The previous anniversary, Kai had met up with Kaneda by chance at some back alley bar downtown. They shared a drink or two (or three) before Kai had managed to coax Kaneda outside for a walk, after letting the numbing buzz of booze kick in of course. While Kai counted that as a win, Kaneda had been plastered at two in the afternoon and adamant against parting with the bottle of brandy he snatched from behind the counter when the barkeep turned his back. 

Unfortunately, he wasn’t so successful in coaxing Kaneda to leave the bottle behind.

Any other day, he wouldn't have minded indulging in their old ways of competitive drinking, but something about the idea left a bad taste in his mouth that day. Whether from the memory of vomit or just the thought of who would always be seated by his side for drinking competitions, Kai can't say.

They exchanged laughs and jokes for a while, aimlessly walked through the poorly reconstructed streets before they wandered along the memorial wall of pictures pinned up in the wake of so many deaths.

An unprecedented amount.

Kai had felt nostalgic all day, a heavy feeling that sat in his gut and curbed his smiles a little, and wasn't really bothered to wind up there. His mother had always taught him to pay his respects to the dead anyhow so Kai once again talked Kaneda into a walk, this time along the memorial wall where there was nothing to look at but smiling faces frozen in happiness, endless notes displaying declarations of love and everlasting peace. Vases of flowers, new and old, lined the base of the wall along with a few stuffed animals and makeshift shrines. He had idly thought about how nice it would be to stumble upon the picture he left of him, Kaneda and Yamagata a year prior. That would be something nice to smile about.

The memorial stretched on for what felt like miles, but Kai walked the whole length of it regardless, nodding respectfully to those who passed him by, not noticing Kaneda’s growing silence or the way he had started to slow down in front of Kai. It was easy to get lost in the sea of faces. He had figured Kaneda was simply being contemplative, and well, Kai wasn't wholly wrong.

He was jolted out of his thoughts when he ran into Kaneda’s back and almost knocked over a vase full of wilted flowers trying to stay balanced.

“Let’s make a toast. To those who aren’t here today to drink with us.” 

Kaneda’s voice had been rough, almost choked, but Kai couldn’t see his face when he laughed a sour note, when he overturned his bottle of brandy carelessly onto the vase Kai almost broke with it’s sad, dying flowers. They still had meaning, a purpose though, something more grand than being doused in shitty booze. 

A significance in their decay.

“A toast to all those sorry bastards who died for nothin’.”

A meaning still in death.

Kai had stood frozen for a moment, not really comprehending what he was seeing, what he was hearing. Looked from the growing puddle of liquor at their feet, to the back of Kaneda’s loud jacket as he suddenly jolted into movement and tucked into an alley off to their left.  Kai didn’t move until the now empty bottle Kaneda had been holding smashed into the alley wall, breaking into shards of glimmering glass that crunched loudly under his feet. Kai startled and felt something unpleasant bubble hot under his skin, coil tight in his gut.

It was rage.

“What the fuck!” Kai had run after Kaneda when the cold disbelief drained from his body and the hot fury replaced it. He noticed, a little too late, the stagger to Kaneda’s step, the sluggishness in his pace. The tell tale signs of someone too far gone to care about their actions.

When Kai reached Kaneda, he had damn near tackled him in the back alley, furious and emboldened by his blatant disrespect, at being ignored, at the pain and anger that had been stewing within Kai for a little bit too long, released by the stupidity of Kaneda’s actions. He had thought that childishness was behind them.

“Kaneda! What the fuck was that? How could you be so disrespectful?” His voice had felt shrill in his ears, anger fueling the boldness in his words. Kaneda staggered under the weight of Kai’s body, but did not tip over. Only turned to glance at Kai over his shoulder before attempting to shrug off his hold and continue on but Kai held tight.

“Hey asshole! Stop ignoring me. What's your problem?” Kaneda’s shoulders had tensed at that and he spun suddenly on his feet, almost making himself and Kai topple over. His face was a mess of emotions and his breath reeked of brandy. Kaneda had always been taller than him, but now he absolutely towered over Kai, who recoiled slightly in disgust, slightly in discomfort.  

“My problem? All those dead people. My problem? Knowing who killed em. My problem? Playin a part in it!” Kai hadn’t seen Kaneda like that in a while, that angry and upset, that ready to pick a fight instead of end one. The snarl on his face was pure malice and his eyes burned with regret, glassy and shining with unshed tears that Kaneda wouldn't let himself cry. Kai was suddenly at a loss for words as Kaneda continued, looking right through him.

“Fuck! All those dead people. All the destruction. All by the hands of a fuckin power crazy kid, God...what’s my problem? Hah, what isn't my problem.” Kaneda’s voice dropped in volume, trailed off into a mumble as he turned and started walking away from Kai, who stood frozen in the middle of the alley. What had that been? Where the hell had that outburst come from?

“Kaneda…” Kai didn’t know what to say, didn’t know where to start dissecting that obvious cry for help. Not even in their first few weeks after the explosion had Kaneda been so volatile and bothered. Not noticeably.

“Kai."

Kaneda’s voice rung out loudly in response a moment later, fell hollow on his ears. Kaneda shoved his hands in his pockets, and paused for one moment longer, before continuing on. “Sorry for scaring ya. Don’t follow me. And don’t worry either. M’gonna be just fine.”

And Kai really didn’t know what else to do but listen and believe as Kaneda disappeared out the mouth of the alley. He wasn’t sure he would want to follow him anyway with the unpredictability of liquor fueled sadness up his sleeve. Kai went back to the memorial after a long moment of consideration and did his best to clean up the puddle of alcohol Kaneda left behind.

It was the least he could do.

The next day, Kaneda hadn’t really acted any differently than normal. Aside from complaining about a headache and sporting some new bruises on his knuckles that Kai didn’t dare to question him about, he was relatively the same happy go lucky, good natured guy he had always been. Kai was relieved, but couldn’t help but think that wouldn’t be the last time he saw that side of Kaneda.

He’s sad to know that he was right.

“I heard from Tanaka that you’ve started your own kiddy care center at the Old Town base camp.” Kai does his best to try and lighten the mood, both for his sake and Kaneda’s. Get their minds off the pressing matter, the elephant in the room. Small talk, he’s relatively good at that.

“I gotta say, I’m not surprised. You always have been the big brother type.” Kaneda snorts a little at that, and glances at him out of the corner of his eye. There’s a faint smile on his dry lips.

“Yeah...m’not always so good at the ‘let’s-get-down-to-business’ and stay on the topic of business thing. Annoys the hell outta Kei as you know, but I help where I can and they’re good kids.” Kai smiles and opens his mouth to make a dig about Kaneda goin' soft on him when he’s cut off as Kaneda keeps talking.

“There’s a kid there that reminds me of Tets...when he was younger. Real shy, real sweet. Got lots of hidden anger. Her mom died in a building collapse a few weeks back and I was the one who found her afterwards...she’s got no one else. She’s all alone now.”

Kai’s words get stuck in his throat, and he swallows hard around the lump they’ve formed there. Kaneda takes another swig of alcohol, and Kai watches as a drop slips out his mouth and through the stubble on his chin, along the column of his throat. It glimmers in the light and catches on his adams apple that bobs with long gulps. Kai's throat burns just watching.

“How long are you going to blame yourself?” The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them, but he doesn’t regret saying them. It’s a question that’s been on Kai’s mind for a while now, one that’s probably lingering somewhere in the back of Kaneda’s own. His mouth barrels on before his mind can stop him.

“It wasn’t your fault. We did all we could for him Kaneda. You know that right?” Kai isn’t really expecting an answer, or if anything a response in the quiet, subdued tone Kaneda uses. His arm is back to shielding his eyes.

“No, I don’t think we did.”

“Well, I think you’re stupid for believing that. And I think it's disrespectful to Tetsuo to say that too.” And maybe he regrets saying that a little bit, but Kai has recently become less and less afraid to say what’s on his mind. Less and less afraid to express himself and assert his opinion. Kaneda doesn’t look impressed though, by the piercing glare he suddenly sends Kai’s way, arm resting on his forehead now.

“And I think you don’t know what the fuck you’re talkin bout Kai. Now shaddup, I came here to crash not to do couch therapy.” Kai usually isn’t so quick to rile, so quick to rise to the bait, but he’s played this game of intimidation one too many times to simply back down. To simply let Kaneda have the last word here. The topic is too important to brush under the rug any longer.

“You didn’t come here to crash, you were brought here before you crashed. Which is what you’re doing! Crashing! And burning too by the looks of it! Kei didn’t trust you enough to leave you alone, and I don’t blame her. You’re acting like a dumb reckless baby.” And that really ruffles Kaneda’s feathers the wrong way. He shoots up like a jackknife, eyes furious and focused.

“What the fuck do you know about anything, huh? What do you know about Tetsuo? You never really liked him anyway, you and Yama always thought he was a lost cause or some shit. Who are you to suddenly tell me what I did and didn’t do for ‘im? Fuck that! Fuck you!” But Kai’s still not backing down. In fact, he stands up so he’s looking down on Kaneda, a position he’s rarely been in even after growing a few inches over the years.

It doesn’t feel as good as he thought it would.

“No Kaneda, fuck you! You can’t keep acting like what happened is your problem and yours alone. Like you’re the only one who has a right to be sad, to mourn. I miss him. I feel bad for him. I feel bad for what happened because of him. And I feel bad about what happened to him, but Kaneda, we did our damn best to help him! To help the whole town! What point is there in wallowing in the past when it’s behind us? You know? What point is there in blaming yourself for his death when it wasn’t your fault!”

Kai pauses for a minute and his chest is heaving. Kaneda is looking at him with wide eyes, clouded with an emotion Kai can’t really decipher. He pushes on and hopes Kaneda will hear him.

“Everything that happened three years ago to the day, Kaneda, it was out of your control. Not your fault. There were bigger forces at work the whole time, strings being pulled and moves being made that we couldn’t even begin to comprehend. Not your fault!  What is your fault is letting your sad, self deprecating emotions turn you bitter and unapproachable to your friends. It’s your fault for letting that anger and pain tear you apart and for letting it tear apart your friends too. I love you Kaneda, you’re my brother, you’re family and it sucks to see you so down right now but look around you man….you’re not the only one in pain. You’re living in a town trapped in anger and sadness, how much more do you want to keep contributing to that?”

After a long moment of silence between them, of intense unbroken eye contact, Kai turns away from Kaneda and heads towards the kitchen. He said his two cents, and if Kaneda is going to stonewall him and ignore what he has to say again, fine. So be it. He's dealt with that before. But Kai, unlike Kaneda, isn’t okay with holding onto those negative emotions until they tear him apart. He learned the consequences of that lesson a long time ago with his mother.

He fills up a cup with tap water and hears Kaneda clear his throat once, twice. “Kai…” Kaneda’s voice calls weakly to him from the living room, sounding worn and older than it is. “Did I ever tell you how I met Tetsuo?” He hasn’t .

“You haven’t.” He takes a big drink and waits a beat before making his way back towards the living room. Kaneda is still sitting up, but his head is cradled in his hands, shoulders slumped in defeat. Kai sits this time with his back against the futon, shoulder flush with Kaneda’s leg. Kai can feel a tremor run under Kaneda’s skin.

“We were kids when we met in some shitty school orphanage. He came a week or so after I did and I guess I didn’t really notice him at first, or care bout him. But one day...I saw some kids giving him a hard time. Pushing him around, laughing at him, calling him names. They stole his only toy and laughed when he cried. Real jerks those kids. The worst part though was how he didn’t even fight back. Just let em knock him around and push his buttons.” Kai listens in silence, gaze fixed on the glass in his hands.

Is it half empty or half full?

“I didn’t understand why he just let it happen until I saw his face, cause I sure as hell wouldn’t have let those jerks have their fun with me when I first showed up but...He looked so hopeless. He was such a sad kid, Kai, like...all his anger and all his pride, swap that with sadness and insecurity. I’m sure you saw it, he was shit at hiding his true feelings despite how tough he always acted...so childish.

“And I don’t know, I just...got so angry, seeing how little he cared to stand up for himself and how the kids just jumped on that weakness like a pack a wild dogs. I kicked their collective asses and got Tetsuo’s toy back for him. Took him under my wing after that and then we were Kaneda and Tetsuo, rulers of the playground…Kaneda and Tetsuo, founders of the Capsules. Kaneda and Tetsuo, brothers till the end...somethin in me just always wanted to protect him, cause he was so bad at doin it himself. I told him as much and he was glad for it at first, started to resent my help as we grew up though. I think he felt I was looking down on him or somethin', but I just...couldn’t help but want to protect that stupid, sad, reckless kid I always saw in him, crying all alone on the playground. Lookin like he needed help but not knowing how to ask.”

Kai still keeps quiet. Some part of him had always thought Kaneda and Tetsuo were actually brothers, or maybe cousins at the least despite not really looking alike. Their kinship and familiarity stemmed into something deeper than just friends, a fierce affection that Kaneda expressed in overzealous jokes and jibes, that Tetsuo showed in tolerant indignation and annoyance. Kai only understands it now, having a similar relationship himself with Kaneda. And he can kind of understand too where Tetsuo’s anger came from.

Kaneda is a great guy. Goofy, sure, carefree, considerably, but he is fiercely loyal and more clever than anyone gives him credit for. A natural born leader with his charisma, he’s always been destined for great things despite preferring to pop pills and joke around.

That’s where some of the anger comes into play.

Someone like Kaneda, someone who naturally exudes confidence and a strong presence, who makes standing up for himself look natural and effortless, he’s the kinda person Kai would be jealous of if he didn’t admire him so much, if he wasn’t lucky enough to call him family. Tetsuo always had a hard time being open, holding connections. Trusting that kindness wasn’t fueled by pity, and jokes weren’t sincere. Kai can imagine very well how hard it might have been feeling perpetually trapped in someone's else’s shadow, especially one as large as Kaneda's.

Kaneda sniffs suddenly and shakes his head within the cradle of his hands, rakes his fingers through his hair a few times before laughing wetly.

“Stupid Tetsuo, always causing me problems. Always leaving me to clean up after him even beyond the grave.” And Kai kinda cracks a smile at that one, glances up at Kaneda and blanches at what he sees. From his spot on the floor, he has a perfect view of Kaneda’s wrecked face.

There’s an impression of a smile on his lips, twisted into more of a grimace than anything. His eyes shine with tears that drip onto the floor like a waterfall, like rain in the desert after years of a brutal drought. He laughs again, or tries to, but it turns into a bitter sob that knocks him back into the futon with a sound of defeat.

Kai would normally jump up to offer comfort and words of reassurance at the sight of a friend in pain, but he’s sensed this coming for a long time now. Kei must have too. While surprising, it’s also completely expected and Kai knows that Kaneda is the type who needs to ride it out, needs to get to the bottom of his well of untapped emotions to move on from them. So he politely looks away as Kaneda proceeds to lose his usually cool composure and sits in silence as his heart aches for his friend.

For his friends.

“Fuck, I hate him Kai. I fuckin hate him. What a piece of work, a dumb fuckin asshole! I hope he’s rolling over in his grave right now, hope he hears me talking shit bout him from the great beyond. Because he's the worst ! A dumb, selfish, egotistical maniac! God, I’ll be living with his reckless messes for the rest of my life and he just got a free pass. Got a goddamn one way ticket far away from this shit circus of a town that he fucked halfway to hell. Left it all behind like it was the easiest thing, like it all meant nothing. What a jerk!” Kaneda is in near hysterics thanks to the combined liquor and outpouring of repressed emotions, caught between a mix of yelling, laughing, and crying. A truly impressive feat, if Kai says so himself.

“All those night we stayed up late talkin’ about how we were gonna change the world, how we were gonna, fuck, fix this broken town not-not break it beyond repair! In the end there wasn’t even a we anymore, not even an us. Just a -just him. Just Tetsuo. All that mattered to him in the end was his stupid, dumb self. Pathetic, he never even liked himself, that’s why I was there!”

Kai hands him his glass of water silently after Kaneda’s rant reaches an intermission and he downs it in three gulps. Takes a minute, thankfully, to dry his eyes and get control over his breathing. Kai just sits next to Kaneda and leans a little more heavily against his leg. Thinks about how weird it is to hear Kaneda sound so torn over someone leaving him behind for once. Kaneda’s scratchy voice speaks softly by his head.

“Fuck that... fuck him. Stupid cry baby bastard, can’t believe I had an ungrateful brat like that as my friend…but fuck, I still miss him sometimes Kai. Sometimes...sometimes I wan’t him back.” Kai sighs for what feels like the millionth time that night, but it’s equal parts sadness and equal parts relief. The air around them feels different suddenly, somber now instead of stifled.

Kai get’s where Kaneda is coming from, maybe not fully but well enough. He didn’t know a lot about Tetsuo before he became a wrecking ball to the town, didn't know much beyond what Kaneda would tell him or what Tetsuo himself would let slip when he was too drunk to know any better. He knows that Tetsuo was never all bad though, never quite the type Yamagata pegged him as either despite the shit he did, even to Yamagata himself.

Tetsuo too was a victim to something greater than himself, to a power larger than the confines of his earthly body. It’s taken a while to forgive his friends indiscretions and while Kai will never forget them, he thinks it’s past time to really start healing from them.

“So do I Kaneda.” Kai whispers the admission softly, almost hesitant to feel the things he does for a friend he too sometimes thinks he failed. “I know we never got along as well as the two of you, but I cared about him all the same and sometimes I wish things had gone differently. But what happened, happened, and I think he’s in a better place now, and us, we’re making the best out of what we’ve got...which, might I remind your stubborn ass, is each other.”

Kai picks himself up off the ground and plops down on the futon next to Kaneda, feeling a fatigue wash over him and settle bone deep. Kaneda radiates heat like a furnace and kinda smells bad, but his eyes are dry now, albeit puffy and red. His gaze is far away, stuck somewhere in the past, but he nods his head idly in response to Kai’s statement because they both know it's true. That sentiment has been the core of the Capsules since day one, ‘look out for our own, take care of our own: we’re all we’ve got’.

Always. No doubt about it.

“You look like you’ve got pink eye.” He says instead of just about anything else he probably should say, once again to lighten the mood, and Kaneda’s lips twitch before blooming into a wry smile.

“Well yea, I did just cry my heart out to you.” Kai can’t fight a smile either.

“Yup, just like a dumb reckless baby. No wonder the two of you got along so well, you weren’t so different after all. ” And Kaneda finally laughs something that doesn’t sound horribly bitter and sad.

They spend most of the night catching up and retelling stories about their childhood days, reveling in the golden light of the past. The usual hesitance to mention Tetsuo’s name is gone from their mouths, and they freely talk about all the stupid shit they did together, all the drunken times they had, all the recklessly childish things they honestly don’t know how they got away with. Kaneda maybe cries again once or twice, but Kai joins in and it’s a free for all of feelings, a cathartic visit for the both of them.

They collapse the futon and fall asleep right around the time the sun rises, and Kai doesn’t wake up on his own for once. The weight of another body settling on the futon jolts him into consciousness and he’s only slightly confused at the shy smile Kei sends him as she slips off her shoes and sets her coat on the floor. It’s a sight that’s very familiar to him despite having spent months alone in this apartment and he automatically scoots over some to make more room for Kei.

“You didn’t answer when I knocked, so I decided to let myself in.” Kai nods at her answer because it sounds plausible enough and he’s had worse people break into his apartment before. She stretches before lying down next to Kai, making him feel like a sardine squeezed in tightly between Kaneda’s back and Kei’s side. Kaneda snores suddenly and mumbles something in his sleep that sounds like “udon” to him and Kei rolls her eyes as Kai stifles a yawn, still closer to being asleep than awake.

“How did the meetin' go?” Kei hums to acknowledge she heard him before closing her eyes and sighing out her nose. She doesn’t respond for a long moment, but he doesn’t press it.

“Let’s talk about it later. Maybe over dinner?” Kai nods slowly. It must be the afternoon already if the light peeking in from the still closed curtains is any indication. Kei did say she would return around mid day. With the way she’s melting into the futon aside him, and Kaneda is snoring lightly on the other side of him, Kai imagines they won’t be moving until dinner time anyway.

“Sounds good....I can make udon ramen.” Kei hums again, and out of his peripheral he can see a slow smile spread on her face.

“Kaneda’s been talking about your ramen for months...I really am sorry we haven't been around lately.” If Kai weren’t so tired he would shrug, but his eyelids are getting heavier by the minute. If Kaneda is like a furnace, Kei is like a burning star, hotter than the sun. He’s starting to feel okay with being a sardine between these two.

“No worries. It was nice to catch up. Think we both needed to get some things off our chests anyway.”  

Kai can hear the smile in Kei’s voice as she says softly, “Thank you, Kai. You’re really an amazing friend.”

Kai smiles back even though she’s probably not looking and responds, “Yeah, I am pretty great aren’t I?”

Kei’s pealing laughter (and Kaneda’s quiet snore of agreement) is the last thing he remembers hearing before falling back asleep.

[c-bulletaftermidnight]

Ok I said I wouldn’t ask but your TFA answer was so awesome I’m curious - things you liked/disliked about TLJ?

Oh boy, oh boy

Liked:

_ Uuuh. Kylo becoming Supreme Leader and cementing himself as the true villain I guess since it’s interesting to work on it’s gonna the political & military landscape of the FO??

_ Kylo being shown off again as a good tactician when fucking up the Raddus.

_I’m glad Phasma’s gone. 

-Finn & Rey hugging at the end of the movie that’s it.

That’s it. 

Dislikes:

_ The worldbuilding has been fucked up just to respond to Rian’s whims when he have barely any explications about the context.

_ Fucking bad designs everywhere. 

_Boring cinematography except a few times. 

_ The fucking zooms-in and Kylo looking like he’s stuck in a washing machines when he barrels rolls around the TIE Silencer. 

_ The FO is suddendly overpowered with money and personnal. The loss of SKB has like no impact on the organization. This episode should have explored to their backstory but Rian simply didn’t care.

_ Everybody in this movie shut off their brains. 

_ Hux went from “officer didn’t had not much battle experience” to a total joke. His traumas due to his upbringing are ignored and his sufferings are reduced into supposed moments of comedy .And it’s not like Rian didn’t knows his past, he even gave him a first name. Hell he didn’ even bother explain Hux’s past to Domhnall and he discovered that his character had a first name when an interviewer asked him about it (Domnhall seemed pretty angry about it since he invest himself a lot in reserches and stuff for the characters he plays.) Knowing how Domhnall had to improvise the blaster scene, i’m sure he would have objected even more of Rian’s decisions.  His purpose half of the movie is to do Huxposition on the bridge, being totally incompetent and thrown around. It’s gonna be hard for JJ to repair this and have the audience take him seriously as a villain. 

 _ Poe, well, I never cared much about his character. I even tried to read the comics but I felt barely nothing about him. But I was hoping TLJ would help but instead they managed to makes me hate his character. The Poe/Holdo arc was badly written. There was many ways to make an arc like that make sense but also more emotionnal for these two characters. I hate how one second they makes him this macho man who keeps understimating lady officers but a second after, the female characters are “haha, I like him ;)”   Yeah sure. 

_Finn’s arc who is reduced as total coward and a joke and where war has to be explained to him (a fucking child-soldier) by a woman that constantly think about hurting him when he mentions Rey, the person he is close to the most and then is forced as a potential love-interest to him for some reasons. The DJ explanations are just bad (of course, the Resistance has to buy weapons. We knows that Rian, thx) The suicide run was also pretty stupid. Also the fact that him and Rey didn’t reuniting on the Supremacy screams so much Rian wanting them to interact as less as possible in the movie. Finn deserves better.

_ Rey’s arc. Can we even talk about an arc? Her character regressed. As if she didn’t dealt with years of abuse and survival on Jakku and as if Kylo never tortured her and hurt her closed ones. Hell she even get tortured twice in the space of two days because of Kylo. The Force-skype stuff feels so forced. Adam & Daisy only have good chemistry when their characters are set against each other. Rey talks about how she is scared of the Force within her but we see her then has no problem to deal with it and master everything in one second (rendering the existence of jedi school pretty useless like you just have to download the Force-powers of a master jedi and that’s it. The Force.exe is installed. ) The small training scene where she cut the rock looks pretty stupid, her sword fighting position is pretty bad during it. Going to the dark side has no consequences on her. She has no agency. Replace the word “Force” by the plot and you’ll see what I mean. 

_ Luke. Has someone who has to deal with depression, I think showing Luke as irritated and stuff can makes sense. I kinda relate since my temper changed a lot. I had a lot of patience & kindness but now, everything irritate me (from a member of my family intruding in my space to hearing the ringing of the phone) I’m scared to see my friends, I feel like a walking failure that I will never be satisfied about myself or will satisfy my parents, I just want to be left alone & if this lead me to die that way, then so be it. The problem is how wonky the writing leading-up to this Luke is bad. Everything is about to make us feels sad for Kylo (I don’t). Kylo’s turning against his family upon learning that he is the grandson of one of the most dangerous war criminal would makes senses. Luke blaming himself because he felt he failed to help his nephew after years of work instead of randomly popping his lightsaber would have made more sense. Luke’s grieving all his others students would make more sense. Luke attempting to reason Kylo after the massacre but still failing would make sense. Luke looking for a solution on the island and then failing to find one, thus made him feel unable to see his sister face to face would makes more sense. There’s is barely any emotionnal moments for Luke and the Final holographic showdown feels like they absolutely wanted to avoid Kylo to kill Luke directly (like c’mon, he’s been committing war crimes since the first minutes of TFA)

_ Kylo. TLJ is a bad attempt at Kylo’s pity fest.It’s interesting that his traumas are acknowledged while the other character’s are pretty ignored despite having a tragic’s past that should impact them as well. Everything is about him. Most of his actions are pretty villainous, he’s no grey character like people are trying to force us to believe because he looks sad. This is an humanized villain arc (which he didn’t need after seeing TFA), not a redemption one. At least he is now the main villain too, so there’s tha (But the “Uwu save ben solo” stuff going around spoil my liking of him as a villain. I’m not here to see whether Kylo is gonna turn LS for a third time in ep9. It would be too repetitive at this point) I just hate the “ You are truely Han solo’s son”line because it is obvious he is more like his mother. Only father figures are important to the characters in SW, it seems. Also the goddamn scar being moved on his eyes but it doesn’t impair his vision despite being cut by a freaking lightsaber. Like Rian could have gave us a legit explanation why Kylo was weakened & needed Rey to fight the preoatarians guards: Losing an eye would be an huge handicap tha het is not used to yet so he needed help to take the throne. 

_ Leïa is only here to looks sad and for Kylo’s momentarily manpain (and Marry Poppying around space). Like really, you reduce Leïa fucking Organa too that?? The woman ready to move time and space just for the sake of saving freedom? the princess of Alderaan who saw her planet being destroyed but kept up on? the woman who was mainly in charge of the strategizing of Hoth’s evacuation? The woman who was willing to stay on Bespin just for the sake of massacring stormtroopers because Vader gave Han away to Boba Fett & would have stayed if Lando didn’t pulled her off to the Falcon? The woman who had to face the galactic backlash of her being Vader’s daughter but still kept on? A woman full of anger but also sense of duty?

_ Rose, rose, rose… I was excited to meet her so imagine my disappointment upon discovering she was just here to lecture & push around Finn & being forced as another love interest that doesn’t even work. It’s like she forgot that her sister died the same day and that she should still be grieving. We don’t even get to see her use her mechanic’s skills in the whole story. The message about her character makes no sense between her last line in tlj and all the destructions she is willing to provoke (not all the ppl working at Canto bight are rich, has it show in the Canto Bight book) or let happens. KMT doesn’t deserve that. 

_ Yoda’s appearing bcos I hate this hypocrite of a gremlin and was expecting for Luke to dunk him in the sea. 

_ Chewie, the glorified cab driver.

_ The battles are a huge clusterfuck & the most badly written space battle I have ever seen. 

_The way Poe’s piloting skills feels to OP when you compare to other pilots, in particular in recently RO. 

_D’qar’s battle is a fucking tactical mess. Everyone has been conviniently dumb down. Same during the slow-mo chase. What’s even the point of bringing the whole fleet of star destroyers if they are just useless.

_ Bad infiltration scene on the Supremacy on the same level as RO’s one. I’m just tired of infiltration scenes in SW. Please stop that shit. 

_ The preotarian guard fight is a choregraphic mess that has no stakes for the characters. Everyone is just waiting for their cue and twirling around. It’s like it was shooted in one go. And there is a difference between Luke in ROTJ kicking a blaster out of the hand of a foe looking bad due to technical problems of the time. And a knife suddendly being edited out at the last minute because the mc would have die then

_ Crait. A good example on how not taking in account the worldbuilding that could be used in battle. So you’re gonna tell me that the Resistance decided to hide away in a base with no issue other than big metallic door in the front? Sounds like a good plan.

_ Leïa never taking command of the battle and strategizing and letting Poe deal with all that despite that she is the general that Poe is a demoted member of the Navy who caused a shit-ton of mess among the Resistance like 30 minutes ago

_ Hux is still depicted in a idiotic way & using bad tactics again. If this is supposed to be a movie about the characters learning about their mistakes,well it didn’t do its job.

_ What is even the use of the third cannon of the gorrilla walkers??

_ What was even the point to use these old speeders besides for being destroyed?

_ Rey shooting down 3 TIES in one shot seems to break a lot of SW physics. Her disappearing of the whole fight shows how much Rian didn’t care abt her character beyond having her interact with Kylo.

_ Y’know, I have Battlefront 2 and in the game there is mining tunnels on the battlefield that you can use to hide. In the movie they are not present, the whole Resistance sit dumbly in trench and just wait to be massacred. I was hoping those tunnels would re-appear in the movies & would be used to sink the walkers by bringing them down with bomb used for mining but nope. The image of walkers falling in a sinkhole, provoking a storm of red dust, coloring the outfits,armors and vehicles in red would have been pretty badass to see.

_ The ramming canon trained on like 10 kilometers instead of using the gorrilla walkers designs and adding to them the mini death-stars canons. They can’t use it all the time tho bcos it would need to cool down before shooting again. Aren’t these supposed to be artillery vehicles ffs???

_ The Resistance not even rigging their escape ships with bombs so if the FO penetrated their base, they can at least cripple them by exploding them. So much for a group that is supposed to be specialized in guerrilla warfare.

_ Talking about guerrilla warfare, i was expecting at least a pursuit and firefight in the mines. No use of the worldbuilding during battle scenarios once again. 

_ Leïa should have been the one to confront Kylo, not Luke. Showing her willing to fight her own son and dies during it for the freedom of the galaxy would have been a good way to send her off and building her as this strong, resilient, legendary leader willing to fight her own family for the good cause. It would have been a good middle finger to people who slandered her upon learning she was Vader’s daughter.

_ Rey effortlessly levitating these rocks. Showing her struggle would have made the ending scene more rewarding.

_ The news of the Battle of Crait spreading super fast despite that the Resistance official journalist, Suralinda Javos wasn’t even present during it for documenting or something.

_ Broom boy & the way it is implied that he might join the Resistance or something because of his Force-powers. A fucking child.Involved in a war. I thought Finn being a child-soldier was bad thing?

And I’ll stop there for now, because there is so many problems with this movie, i’m never gonna be finished with it.