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thepinkdreamganjaqueen · 3 months ago

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Subway Obsessions Arthur's POV ch.1

Arthur Fleck POV x Fem!Reader

Masterlist 🩷

Summary: From Arthurs POV. It's just another night on the subway. A typical ride on the Gotham train on his way home from a long day of running errands and away from his tedious depressive thoughts. Perhaps he would catch a glimpse of the woman he could only seem to catch in passing, the woman he’d been secretly watching, following, fantasizing about nightly. Perhaps the unending misery that is the city above had him thinking of change, of something new to obsess about. Something to draw his mind away from the blistering and the mundane. Would he finally get the courage to talk to her?

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, public exhibitionism, subway cruising, swearing, stalking, obsession, mentions of violence, fem!reader, romantic smut, fluff

A/N: Beginning to a series? Who knows. May add things later. First fic, btw! I'm hyper fixated now, so expect more. This is something I've been mulling around with for a while. I've done this story from both the readers' POV and from Arthur's because I can't get enough!! So, make sure to read both! I loved writing from this perspective so much, btw! Literally! Send ideas, edits, etc. my way!! And be nice please. The first chapter is mostly fluff/ descriptive plot/character building. Cheers! Enjoyyy!

Word Count: 3.9k

SERIES: Subway Obsessions

CHAPTER 1: Chance Meeting

Today was another mundane day. Arthur had been out earlier in the evening running errands for his mother. Picking up T.V. dinners at the grocer and medications for him and her at the local pharmacy. Still, getting around the city was a chore in of itself. He figured the subway would be the easiest and quickest way home. It was nearing 10 o'clock pm. His mother would be worried, and it was getting late. He knew the dangers of roaming Gotham city at these hours. His mother used to say, "That's when the colorful people come out." A way to make something serious, completely unserious. Still, he knew the dangers and tried as hard as he might to keep his wits about him. Easier said than done when you're a man with a neurological disorder, apparently so many people hate you for. He wished they’d understood or tried at least.

He always pondered why the people of Gotham were so... well so mean! Everyone he encountered save for the very, very few were just assholes to him. Perhaps it was the political climate? With Thomas Wayne running for government placement, it probably didn't help. Make the rich richer and the poor poorer he thought. Perhaps it was the state of the city itself, the infrastructure, the lack of resources. He sure has been on the wrong end of that stick one too many times. "Good people suffer Happy," his mother would say. But he never understood why it had to be that way. Life was circumstantial. He didn't ask to have what little he did. He didn't even ask to be born and thought life was the real joke.

It doesn't have to make sense to be funny! He jested internally. Because its fucked! And there lies the comedy for those broken enough to see, yet perhaps healed enough to laugh at the pain. Because, what else can you do?

His mind wandered through these endless fields of thought when a train car stopped in front of him. He had been standing on the platform disassociating for some time. Perhaps he even forgot where he was for a moment, ruminating over the wrongs of life and playing them out differently in his head. The things he didn't say or do, what he could have done differently...

The brisk hiss and click of the air brakes as they screeched to a halt brought him back to reality. He blinked a couple of times, waiting for the doors to open. As he did, a disheveled looking figure pushed past him while exiting. He burst out in a cry of compulsory laughter and stepped on the train. He was in the last car and immediately noticed it was bearable, as bearable as riding the subway can be he postulated.

In his search for a seat towards the end of the train car, he noticed a large putrid looking spill in the back. It melted off the seats and slid across the aisle. It looked sticky. Best to avoid that then, he thought. He opted for a bench seat away from the offending area and sat down, crossing one leg over the other and leaning back, arm outstretched on the head of the seat next to him. No one was in this car except for him. He found a moment of solace and drank it in, filling himself with the noiseless satisfaction of silence and peace when a warbled voice broke over the loud speaker. He couldn't really understand it, but the semblance of words spoke what sounded like “platform 19”. It was all he could understand through the robot whine. He felt anticipation rising within him.

At approximately 10:15 p.m., the doors of the subway train broke open with a gush of cold night air. At the other end of the subway, he watched as a woman stepped onto the train like a fawn. Scared and unsure of where to go or sit. She was bright and colorful; she immediately caught his eye. Was this what his mother meant by colorful people? He thought to himself. He quickly realized it was her! The girl he had fantasized about daily and nightly, hoping to catch her on the train but only seeming to in his thoughts and dreams, remembering her face, her scent that penetrated her surroundings. He had tirelessly followed her the first time he saw her. She was the only person to smile at him that day. He had to know more and had to know why. But she wasn't always on the same train. He always hoped to run into her and had almost given up, thinking she must have been some sort of hallucination he created for himself to lessen his own pain. But there she was.

She looked different tonight. She looked like a predator, displaying colors brightly in the face of possible danger. She was a force; he felt the atmosphere change as soon as she stepped in through the steel doors, a thickness lifted in the air and he could feel himself tense in his seat. His clothes were suddenly uncomfortable, his collar too tight, his hands, sweaty. She always looked beautiful when he saw her, she always looked content and comfortable. Hair in a messy bun with strands falling about her face swayed by the wind that surged through the train car. Sweats he could still make out her figure through, leaving him wanting more every time, it drove him crazy! But today she looked like she was straight out of the films on the TV! He thought to himself. She made him think of glamour, it's the only word that truly fit, like the old films he would watch with his mom. Wow! Was she a sight to see, a cool pristine liquid flowing over his burning eyes. A soothing image of pure proclivity. An unknown sense of calm swept over him.

He watched, frozen, as she cautiously observed the train car searching for a seat. He looked at her from top to bottom. She was significantly smaller than him, petite, probably around five feet three he gauged. Fuzzy black boots, blue jeans tightly hugging her figure, full thick thighs, his mouth began to water - he thirsted for her, wanted to drink in her every essence. He felt a lump in his throat as he tried to choke it down. A tight black shirt under a small cropped pink sweater with red hearts all over. It perfectly displayed her large soft breasts. Brown curls bounced about her shoulders as she walked, strands of them fell daintily on her face and cheeks. As she walked, she would flick it away with a quick movement of her head. The way she did that, moving her hair out of her face without using her hands. It made him tingle in all the right places. His mind raced. What else can she do without using her hands? he thought.

There was something pink in her hair too, he saw as she walked past. She didn't notice him at first. Most people don't he thought to himself. Although this thought disappointed him, he didn't fault her for it. He had the urge to make her notice him. To be a presence and to be objectified by her, he only wished he could hold that kind of power.

As she passed, the scent he had come to know as her- wafted past him, he sucked in through his teeth sharply. It was heaven on earth. Stimulating. He would follow that scent hoping to find her, mercilessly searching. It was like a drug, an aphrodisiac, and he felt his cock spasm. She was eyeing the seats towards the back where that odd spill was. A butterfly he thought. It's a pink butterfly in her hair. He immediately felt like a school boy again, fawning over and wanting to get the attention of the pretty girl and for her to return it.

"This one's fine!" He blurted out, not really knowing what he was saying. She turned around, her beauty, dark, striking, and he found it hard to speak again. He stammered and was able to get the lump out of his throat to follow up with; "I don't know what that is back there but these are not so bad" his voice felt cracked but he tried to contain his composure, he didn't want to scare her off. He was the only other person on the train, and it must have jolted her since she didn't see him at first. Plus, she probably thinks I'm some kind of creep or weirdo, he thought to himself. There was some truth behind those thoughts, but that didn't make him a bad person, he thought. All day, he spends trying to have a nice day to make himself and others happy, trying to think good thoughts, trying not to let the bad influence the good he can salvage.

"Oh, thank you!" A sweet voice broke the monotony of thought, and immediately he was flung back into the present. She made her way to the seats laid out in front of him. A row of sideways seating. He watched her sit gracefully, slowly, like a calculated ballet dancer, he thought. Every move fluid, every move perfect. When she sat, she arranged her things on the seat next to her and settled in. He wondered to himself where she was going. Why she had so many bags, why she was riding the subway so late, as a woman, she should be terrified. This city is not safe, especially for someone as strikingly beautiful as her. She was like a beacon of light, too bright to stare at, but he was drawn to her like a moth to a flame and simply couldn't resist the allure.

She actually sat next to me! He thought. Only one seat away, actually next to me. But that wasn't all. She saw him, noticed him, heard him, and listened to him. The weight of these simple gestures made his hands sweaty, and he tried his best to remain aloof. The doors of the train opened on the other side of her, and a breeze blew her hair behind her and over her face. He couldn't help but see her, every aspect of her. He studied her every move, every inch of her body. He wanted this to last, for this image to never leave his mind.

The wind that blew past her carried on it her scent. He was suddenly overwhelmed by the sweet alluring scent of peach? No. Some kind of berry? No. When the doors shut and the pressure created another breeze, the scent wafted to him again. Taking it all in, he identified the smell as watermelon. Some kind of fruity smell filled his senses with the feeling of euphoria. It was intoxicating. He wondered what it would be like to be pressed up against her, inhaling her deeply. He looked down with a deep sigh when he looked back over. She was moving a strand of hair out of her face and caught a glimpse of her looking at him as well. Her cheeks flushed instantly, and she broke her gaze. She was fire, burning too hot near him, and he wanted so badly to play, to burn himself, engulf himself in her flames breathlessly.

He tried to come up with something to say, anything. How do I talk to her? What would I even say without sounding stupid? He thought. He watched on as the florescent lights above her flickered. It lit up parts of her he hadn't seen upon first observation. Glitter decorated her collar bones and cheeks. Her sweater was slightly unzipped. He could see the peeking out of her cleavage. Sparkling with glitter, so pretty, she reminded him of the stars of the night sky. Unmistakably beautiful, yet so. Far. Away. He had been working up the courage to say something to her, to hear her voice again, he didn't want to forget it. A symphony replayed in his mind. He needed more.

He stumbled over his words, "Sorry, I-it's hard for me to talk, I meant to introduce myself. I'm Arthur, " he said in the kindest, most unassuming voice he could muster. She looked up and locked eyes. They burned his insides like hot coals. He anticipated her reply, not knowing if she would even engage in conversation with him. "No worries!" She spoke in a reassuring way that made his heart flutter. "I know how it can be, trust me!" She sounded genuine. Kind. There was something underneath her voice, though he couldn't quite conceptualize. Fear? Doubt, maybe? He wanted to take it away.

"I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you, Arthur!" Again, her voice beaming so light and so lifting. She reached out to shake his hand that he had offered. Her hand was small and was practically swallowed by his. Her fingers were warm, sweeping softly over his palm as she grasped his hand in hers. It's a simple thing, he thought. It was a small touch, but it was enough to make him crumble inside. She felt so nice! "Y/N," he said. "I like that." He lamented. Such a beautiful name. But everything about her was beautiful. Her presence was wholesome and welcoming. Is this real? he pondered. Thoughts took over again, and not knowing how to continue the conversation, they sat in silence for a moment as he worked up the courage to speak again.

Moments passed that felt like a lifetime, but he was content in her presence, soaking up her aura. As he went to ask her a question, she moved to speak as well. Catching each other off guard, Arthur profusely apologized "No it's okay, go ahead," he said, not wanting to interrupt her. "No, no, that's okay, what were you going to say?" She insisted back. Her voice was small and mousey, she seemed so shy. Why would she be? She screams confidence and power. Even in her apprehensive movements, she seems calculated, he thought to himself. He stole another glance at her. Her eyes sparkled reminiscent of a smokey quartz gem in a bracelet he once saw in a shop window. A thought of her adorned in nothing but gems crossed his mind. He tried to hold onto the image before it left his mind's eye. He felt a flush in his cheeks again, and his eyes darted. He couldn't look her in the eyes for too long. It made him nervous. He was working up the urge to speak again, to say something, anything.

He broke the silence and asked, "So what brings you to ride the subway so late at night? Aren't you scared?" He uttered jokingly. After saying it, he felt immediate stupidity. Why would I say that? He thought and started an inner spiral. As if seeing his reaction to his own question and wanting to ease the tension building within him, Y/N said, " Well, I work at the Gotham shelter overnight. So, having to ride the train every night, I guess, I've gotten used to it for the most part. But, yeah, I do get scared sometimes. The city can be super sketchy, and I've been attacked twice already, so I had to buy mace and stuff to try and protect myself."

The words spilled out of her mouth like a wave of glass, he couldn't fathom her ever saying this of all things, it was jolting for him and triggered something within him he had tried so long to hide. His mind raced. He felt anger and rage well up inside of him it hardened his sternum and burned in his throat. He became stiff but was unaware. The spiraling began to start again. This city was ruining people, hurting people, good people! He thought. She helps people, and then people hurt her?! Pieces of shit! He screamed internally. The emotions he felt were at war within himself. He felt rage for her pain and suffering at the hands of this city's denizens, he felt fear for her life knowing she rides the train every night, he felt regret, why couldn't he have been there to help, to do something? He all but took the pain on as his own, it soaked through to his core. He too had been at the mercy of some of the worst people he has ever had the displeasure of encountering in this god forsaken city, he too had been attacked, hurt, mercilessly tortured by these fucking terrible people.

Lost in his train of thought and looking straight ahead he couldn't help but sternly say in sympathy "These people are just fucking terrible!" She must have noticed his change in demeanor at this declaration. He suddenly felt a warmth cross his leg, and lightly squeeze. It was smooth and comforting. His concentration broke completely. Pulled out of a trance by her as if the thoughts were just zapped out of his brain. His eyes quickly darted back to her where they followed the length of her shoulder, to her arm, and from her arm to her hand that rested upon his thigh. He felt the muscles in his face relax, his shoulders dropped, jaw unclenched. The sheer power she had over him he thought. The warmth emanating off of her palm was like security, a blanket of nostalgia. He couldn't remember the last time he felt what felt like love, like connection, or attachment. He couldn't help but see flashes of images in his mind, her moving her hand closer to his cock which had began to throb. He tried to brush away those thoughts but they plagued him. She was touching him. Something that never happens to him. He immediately craved her touch, he wanted more, he wondered how that would be possible. He thought this couldn't be real. Not this time.

Once again, breaking his thought pattern she spoke, and he gave her his full attention. "Yeah, but I'm ok now!" She said in a reassuring tone. Her voice, like petals on velvet. Soft, gentle. "You're here now! And so, I feel safe." Safe? He thought, with me? Like she trusts me? He could feel the negative thoughts start to brim to the surface of his mind but quelled them by responding instead. He needed clarification. The words she spoke just didn't make sense to him. He couldn't see why she would or should trust him, although he so badly wanted her to, for this to be true, he needed it to be. He suddenly felt the urge to never leave her, to always be by her side. He would watch, he would follow, and he would do anything for her.

He only imagined what it would be like to know her both romantically and intimately. "You feel safe? W-with me?" He spoke haphazardly, unsure of the answer he wanted to hear, hoped to hear. "I do." She looked into his eyes sincerely. His heart leapt into his throat; he couldn't breathe. She was so fucking beautiful. He wanted to grab her, to feel her against him. He shifted his legs at the thought. Looking up at him like that weakened him in so many ways. Most noticeably, in his pants, where he tried to conceal the results of his dirty thoughts. "Then I will protect you Y/N" he proclaimed proudly. A shy smile touched her lips and she continued to gaze into his eyes. He smiled back. I make her feel safe, he thought. She is comfortable in my presence. No one even bothers talking to me, no one ever wants to talk to me. He had the urge to speak once more but couldn't find the words.

Before either of them could speak, the subway speaker rang out once again in that barely audible robotic toned voice announcing the next stop as the harsh brakes squeaked heavily to a stop. As if anticipating her to leave, he just as quickly stood up and offered out his hand. "Thank you," her voice sang. She turned to face him, her small stature looking up at him once more. He held his composure but felt the heat well up inside him. "It was so nice having someone to ride the train with tonight for a change!" She cheerfully exclaimed with a smile.

She had grabbed her things and had let go of his hand. What sweet bliss it was for the few seconds he had held it. Her fingers, so dainty and soft. The train screeched to a halt, and he instinctively grabbed her hand again and put his other hand at the small of her back to steady her. He could feel the soft curve of her spine. He slowly moved a pinky closer, hoping she wouldn't notice, tracing the line of her jeans as he did, feeling the line of her panty through the fabric. He quickly pulled away as she exited the train. He had held back. He wanted to do so much more. He wanted to turn her around, grab her face and kiss her, shove her onto the subway seats, and have his way with her, make her cry out. He wanted her to miss work. He wanted her to quit! He wanted her all to himself.

This moment was too perfect. It felt like a dream. As she stepped off the platform and began to walk away, he stood as the doors shut, helplessly watching her as she slowly walked. Unable to stop time. As the train brakes hissed and cranked, he saw her stop and turn around. She had stepped to the doors, but it was too late. He watched on as her figure shrunk into the distance as the train traveled once again into the dark tunnel. He waved. He would see her again. He would make sure of that. Platform 19. He thought, I'll remember this time.

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proshipconfessions · 18 days ago

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I hate obscenity laws, and I hate the fact that I can’t argue against them prima facie because then everyone would think I’m some kind of dangerous person. Based on the Miller Test, the ONLY things that are going to be unprotected due to alleged obscenity are pornographic works. I think in terms of speech that’s allowed, there’s a lot worse out there than porn. Furthermore the “lacks serious political/scientific/literary/artistic value” criteria is so bullshit. It’s so fucking arbitrary and frankly, I think the “average person” upon whom the Miller Test is based is probably an idiot whose moral compass is based on vibes and emotions.

Most serious laws are based on criminalizing things that are HARMFUL. Fraud is a crime because you’re infringing on a person’s property. SA is a crime because it’s violence and infringement on a person’s bodily autonomy. Drunk driving is a crime because it endangers everyone around you, yourself, and the community’s property and infrastructure.

“Obscene” in the colloquial sense just means “offensive to moral principles; repugnant”! i.e. “gross” So? A lot of things are gross or offensive, but when those things are criminalized, we call that a dumb law! New Jersey law against slurping soup? Why, because someone might get annoyed? Tough shit, they don’t enforce that dumbass law because we all know that slurping soup ain’t harmful, just annoying.

Omaha, Nebraska, parents could be arrested if their child can’t hold back a burp in church because the other attendees might be scandalized? WHOOO CARES, if the spiritual experience is genuinely HARMED by a little burp then God should smite that child himself, because it being legally enforced by humans is DUMB.

The reason that all this pressure and laws trying to ban all sorts of queer expression are stupid is because it harms nobody to exist queerly, and the reasons that people want to ban it all is because of their sensitive little precious conservative feelings of Not Liking It :(

Yeah, porn can get pretty nuts, but everyone’s mileage is gonna vary on what they consider too hardcore and what they consider to be serious political/scientific/literary/artistic value. Plus like… the ONLY things that are gonna get branded Obscene, at least in the US, are things that “appeal to the prurient interest,” AKA, intended for someone to get off to. SO? 1. Anything could be used for someone to get off to. I could post a picture of my bathroom counter and eventually it could reach someone who’d get hot and bothered by it. And more importantly, 2. “Prurient interests” are not inherently lesser. Getting off is part of the human experience, a HARMLESS part of it in most cases. It’s so stupid that lewdness is considered almost mutually exclusive with artistic value in a lot of ways. I’m sorry, I thought the point of art was to stir emotions and the human experience. Horny is an emotion! Art doesn’t (or at least shouldn’t) be criminalized if it stirs sadness or fear or joy! Tragedy, horror, and comedy all have artistic value to the human experience, and can be executed well or poorly, just like erotically-intended work!

Uuuugghhh if the concept of obscenity has a million haters, I am one of them, and if the concept of obscenity has no haters, I am no longer on this earth.

———

#proship #proship confessions #proshipper

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loredrinker · 11 days ago

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Dragon Age games as show genres

Dragon Age: Origins — The Classic Fantasy

It’s the classic fantasy set in a bleak, war-torn world where everything is falling apart. The Blight is ravaging Southern Thedas, Darkspawn are everywhere, and the legendary Grey Wardens are supposed to save the day - until they’re wiped out in the opening act. Cue the fellowship!

It’s a tale of sweeping battles and high-stakes choices, but beneath the epic surface lie some of the most fantastical, wild decisions that fit right into any fantasy setting. Sire an old god baby? Check. Exorcise a demon from an eight-year-old? Check. Crown a bastard prince - or execute him? Totally up to you. And forget dire wolves - you’ve got Dog.

The stakes are massive, the battles harrowing, but there’s always time for sarcastic banter, passive-aggressive spats, and seduction. It’s a story of heroism, heartbreak, and just enough absurdity to keep the end of the world from feeling too grim.

Dragon Age II — The Satirical Family Drama

Welcome to Kirkwall, where everything’s on fire, and everyone’s yelling. Power struggles aren’t just a backdrop - they’re the whole show. Mages, Templars, and the unlucky souls clash in a city teetering on the edge of collapse.

Your companions? They’re not just along for the dumpster fire - they’re the ones holding the matches. Fenris has enough anger to power the city’s infrastructure, Merrill’s quietly trying to rebuild an ancient mirror that screams “bad idea,” Isabella has definitely stolen something, Hawke is one zombie mom away from a complete meltdown, and Varric’s narrating every juicy detail like it’s his next bestseller. Oh, and let’s not forget Anders - because when has an explosion ever not started a productive conversation?

Kirkwall isn’t just a city - it’s the dysfunctional dining room table where all the family drama unfolds.

Dragon Age: Inquisition — The Soap Opera

On the surface, Inquisition is about world-ending rifts, court intrigue, and saving Thedas from complete annihilation - but beneath the sweeping battles and political machinations, it’s all drama and emotional chaos.

Welcome to the Inquisition, where secrets lurk around every corner and betrayal is a team sport. Blackwall hides his secrets behind his impressive beard while Solas conceals his with cryptic wisdom and a jawline sharp enough to cut through the Fade. Iron Bull is one questionable decision away from flipping allegiances and Leliana’s perched atop a mountain of secrets, ready to ruin lives with a single song. Meanwhile, the Herald’s handing out judgments like a morally conflicted deity, while desperately trying to keep the team’s approval from imploding.

The game has everything: battles, intrigue, romance, and plenty of those brooding moments where someone stares dramatically into the distance.

Tune in next time to Thedas of Our Lives.

Dragon Age: Veilguard — The Comedy Sitcom

It’s your new favorite comedy where the stakes are apocalyptic, but the vibes are immaculate.

Meet Rook and the ragtag team of wildly attractive misfits, saving the world one awkward situation at a time while crashing at their boss’s magic lighthouse. Sure, they’re trying to stop the literal unraveling of existence, but let’s get to the real fun: Can the brooding Grey Warden save the griffons without losing his smolder? Will the dapper necromancer teach his spirit son the difference between shoes and sarcasm? And can the charming assassin and his demon roommate finally admit they’re the ultimate odd couple?

This team is uncomfortably comfortable with existential horror, turning their “stop Solas” mission into Thedas’s most chaotic group therapy session. And when it’s time to relax? There’s always book club - next up: How to Survive Team Dynamics When Your Boss is the Literal Dread Wolf.

It’s your perfect blend of heartwarming and absurd situations, with dialogue that loops so much it’s practically a built-in drinking game.

Sure, the stakes are technically world-ending - Veil, ancient gods, blight, yadda yadda - but, seriously, guys who’s gonna clean up the griffon poop? Cue the laugh track!

#dragon age origins #dragon age inquisition #dragon age 2 #dragon age veilguard #dragon age #I miss Dog #hawke #varric #solas #fenris #iron bull #blackwall #rook #da:i #da:tv #da: origins

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cellarspider · 11 months ago

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Spider's Big Prometheus Thing: Index Post

Being a list of all the posts produced in the course of this inexplicable project of mine. This project is now complete, at an unexpectedly extensive thirty entries long.

I swear, I didn't intend for it to go like that, but it was fun to write.

All entries have at least a minimum level of citations for where to start looking for more facts on any subject external to the movie itself, which includes everything from how DNA is sequenced to how Nickolodeon slime is made, and from the comedy in mislabeled portraits of early church fathers to the correct attribution of a cat's contributions to historical linguistics.

Be aware that there's also hidden rambling and bonus facts in the image alt text. A lot of them.

0. Introduction

Setting the scene, including my background, my intent, and where this movie is going.

1. Opening

Expectations, landscapes, and aliens.

Rambles: DNA, whether aliens would have it, and why it doesn't look like a pale bacon ladder.

Alt-text rambles: nano-bubbles.

2. Discovery

The Isle of Skye is gorgeous, the movie attempts to establish its themes, and why it had already got my hackles up. Rambles: how cool ancient and pre-modern peoples were, the implications of humanoid figures in European cave paintings, and misplaced lions. Alt-text rambles: seriously, Skye is just so cool. Erich von Däniken and modern publishing royalties are not.

3. David

We meet the loneliest android, and his fandom of choice. Rambles: I go nuts for a paragraph over Proto-Indo-European. Alt-text rambles: Help me remember a dude's name, that time Ron Perlman saw Sigourney Weaver do something so cool he forgot to act, and a Coronation Street conspiracy theory.

4. Humans (Derogatory)

We meet the human crew, and analyze why they're a mismatch to the movie's established expectations, and what subgenre they fit in most. It isn't the one the movie seems to be aiming for. Rambles: 50s B-movies and their Men Of Science, modern movies and their quietly suffering scientists. Alt-text rambles: inconsistently moist characters, Idris Elba's christmas tree decorations.

5. Pseudoarchaeology (Extremely Derogatory)

We meet Old Man Capitalism, poor logistics, and how the movie began to really lose me through dropping in some racist pseudoscience tropes. Rambles: more logistics (of alien bioengineering), historical art styles, what the world was getting up to in the 600s CE Alt-text rambles: Linguistics, more ranting, the life and extraordinarily ornate death of Kʼinich Janaabʼ Pakal. Rants: the existence of writing, people who don't look like you can still think, stargazing and how conspiracy theorists don't understand it.

6. Roads

Poor firearm safety with Chekhov's Gun, when movies move too fast, atmospheric chemistry, and the moment I began to yearn for blood. Rambles: First contact protocols, why 3% CO₂ won't kill you but it will make you weird, my personal experience digging up a Roman road. Alt-text rambles: the logistics of securing items in moving craft, linguistics, atmospheric science, colorblind-friendly diagram design, swearing about orology, and cursing the crew for their fictional crimes against archaeology. Rants: Why they should've stayed in orbit, and my impassioned defense of historically significant transportation infrastructure.

7. Masking

The bit that made most people realize these characters were idiots. Featuring an attempt at themes. Rambles: NASA's policies on biological contaminants Alt-text rambles: Benedict Wong having nothing to do, helmet design, driving on dusty track, the tiny overlap between archaeological horrors and Minecraft, the CDC's excellent captions on men sneezing. Rants: Nominating a man for the Heinrich Schliemann Archaeology Award, all these people are catching space covid

8. Ghosts

Comparing the Engineers to their series antecedents, and I develop a slight soft spot for the geologist. Rambles: Set design in Alien, how carbon dating works. Alt-text rambles: Adventure games, GET DOWN MISTER PRESIDENT, I get very excited for Dune: Part Two, the archival devotion of people with rare blorbos.

9. Dignity

Personal, professional, social, and media context for the treatment of people's remains. Rambles: Personal experiences around the archaeological discovery of human skeletons, professional codes of ethics, movies that handle dead bodies better by being more crass about it. Alt-text rambles: None, the main text gets full focus this time.

10. Atmosphere

How intertextual imagery is overused, how the one major character arc is developing, and a whole grab bag of miscellaneous shambolic events. Rambles: How tourist-breath can destroy artifacts, and a deleted scene Alt-text rambles: Whether explaining mysteries is always the wrong decision in fantasy, the usefulness of helmets, Mass Effect's loading screens, please someone give me more recommendations for things where Giger creatures aren't all bad, and how cultural variation in gestures can make you look like an asshole. Rants: they aren't done desecrating the dead oh boy it's just gonna get worse

11. Decontamination

How to present an audience with events that make no sense, how to do it eerily, and how Prometheus does this by accident. Rambles: NASA's Apollo 11 quarantine policies Alt-text rambles: How 2001: A Space Odyssey put on a cosmic lightshow, how traditions are faked for political and social power in Midsommar, confusing lab equipment, robot arm safety, the use of camper vans in space exploration, umarell behavior, and robot horror movies. Bonus text rambles: pressurized gas cylinder safety, and how the cargo of one truck apparently tried to join Roscosmos. Rants: Laboratory safety

12. Shocking

Mary Shelly would not be proud of them. Rambles: Which home electrical appliances their tomfoolery is equivalent to. Alt-text rambles: Semiotics and Alien, reuse of props and art department equipment, the cast's inability to look at things, how the first chestburster scene intelligently incorporated spontaneity, and I completely lose my mind over a single computer readout, finding out in the process that the Engineers are close cousins to the common house mouse. Rants: I didn't think that "don't stick electrical plugs in people's ears" would be something that needed to be said, but here we are.

13. Family Tree

A soothing ramble about some of the cool bits of my job. Rambles: How evolution has made some vertebrate blood white or green, how genomes are sequenced, and how to determine the relatedness of species. And more. A lot more. I love my job. It's so cool. Alt-text rambles: How Nickelodeon slime was made, how hecking tiny molecules are, why blue-tongued skinks have blue tongues, my review of Dune: Part Two, how hard I worked to not turn Gene Wilder into a jumpscare, lots of enthusiastic explanations of DNA sequencing techniques, the aesthetics of the machines wot do that for you, how "snip" no longer sounds like a verb to me, and how I started out as a computational scientist.

14. Cheers

David poisons a man, and how his character arc ties into christian-influenced existential dread. Rambles: series continuity, gnostic theology, Ridley Scott's beliefs. Alt-text rambles: How to ruin petri dishes, Vickers' questionably carbon-based existence, the game of Operation, hand doubles in filming, how the funniest possible misidentification of an early church figure is wandering around the internet, the cool genders of suit actors, gnostic Archons, and the Engineers as Sophia. Rants: Holloway seems unaware that archaeologists study dead people, Ridley Scott is his own biggest problem.

15. Unworthy

The movie does something I'm not going to joke about. Don't read this if you're having a bad day. Big content warning for Holocaust imagery.

16. Intimacy

Your asexual commentator grapples with Hollywood's terrible track record on romantic and sexual chemistry. Rambles: Why we don't say an archaic-looking species is "older" than another, how religious scientists do what they do Alt-text rambles: the human family tree, Abbott and Costello, pitcher plant cultivars, the creative possibilities of a Buddhist version of this movie, and Stephen Still's lack of accordions. Rants: I've never been a boyfriend but I'm pretty sure that's not how you do it

17. Threat

Prometheus takes a hard turn into old slasher movie tropes. Rambles: A movie trailer that gave Wee Spider the screaming heebies Alt-text rambles: The age rating of Prometheus, a spontaneous X-Files crossover AU, Pitch Black, how likely it may or may not be that the images in the post will get flagged, critter behavior, insufficient EVA suit design, and the content balancing I take into account when selecting screenshots. Rants: This movie does not seem to know what it is. Alt-text rants: Ditto, focusing on characterization.

18. Flames

"Mac wants the flamethrower!" Rambles: I wandered off in the middle to watch a 40k comedy video, does that count? Alt-text rambles: More content-balancing, what kind of very English critter David appears to be, dune buggy design, Star Wars: The Old Republic is worth your time, Dune: Part Two is worth your time, an extremely long ramble about integration of CG background elements, and Oblivion memes. Alt-text rants: Movie color grading and lighting, undercutting scares.

19. Stars

The movie shows how good it can be when no dialog is involved. Rambles: The movie Contact and how Prometheus could've learned from it. Alt-text rambles: How I estimate large numbers from a still image, a brief Baldur's Gate 3 appearance, the set design and staging of a room made for giants with squishy computers, the use of color to make a cohesive scene, facts about Uranus, visual intimation of threat, VFX wizardry, practical FX wizardry, Michael Fassbender's wordless acting.

20. Expectant

The movie shows how good it can be when character choice is removed from the horror. Rambles: the inspiration and place of chestbursting in Alien movies, the continuing religious symbolism in the movie, the clunky dialog, how to build or undermine tension, and the good blending of practical and CG effects, and how tiny creatures of the ocean manage to be more uncanny than horror critters. Alt-text rambles: reading details the prop department never meant for you to see. Alt-text Rants: the return of the head-exploder and the first sight of actual PPE, slowly mangling a plot point's name until it has been thoroughly folded, spindled, and mutilated.

21. Underdelivered

The movie shows how terrible it can be when horror doesn't build tension. Rambles: Contortionists in horror, hillbilly horror/hixploitation movies. Alt-text rambles: Resident Evil 7, Dead Space and "strategic dismemberment"

22. Hubris

The movie tries to do some themes again Rambles: my ineffable desire to genetically sequence ditch weeds, Left Behind Alt-text rambles: Brad Dourif's commitment to the bit in The Two Towers, nigh-invisible wheelchair product placement, the Fallout series in general and the upcoming show in particular, praise for an epic-length critique of Left Behind, Robert Zemeckis' bizarre quest to mocap everything Rants: This movie does a terrible job representing both religiosity and atheism

23. Informed

Exposition is delivered, and plot points try to knit together. Rambles: The Silent Hill movie, Pacific Rim Alt-text rambles: Pyramid Head's secret unclothed backside, demanding environmental enrichment for scientists, greebling, Tumblr's favorite shitty copper merchant Rants: What could've been done instead of an exposition dump and daddy issues Alt-text rants: these people and their interior design are tempting fate and testing my patience

24. Inscribed

I go rogue and ramble about constructed languages and cuneiform for an entire post. Guest appearances from Klingon pop music and a delightfully eccentric Assyriologist. Rambles: All of it. Alt-text rambles: the self-awareness of conlangers, fingernail length, Schleischer's Fable as a warm-up for the next section, my primary conlang derangement, speculation about whether cuneiform was legible for the blind, my beef with the cowards at Lucasfilm for refusing to use Star Wars' coolest letters, my love for Warframe's Grineer, going into far too much detail about redesigning Prometheus' Engineer script, and finally, the many crocodiles of ancient egyptian hieroglyphs. Rants: None/all of it

25. Judgement

We discuss some of what the movie doesn't. Rambles: Fiction and morality, Blade Runner, biblical allusions the story could've made and doesn't Alt-text rambles: Lance Henriksen's insane career, the paintings of John Martin and a surprise George Washington, Rutger Hauer's effect on Blade Runner, my tentative plans for the next essay series. Rants: Germs, old man makeup. Alt-text Rants: The characters are reading ahead in the script again, the half-assed Engineer writing system continues to hurt me

26. Awoken

I go bananas over PIE. Rambles: fix-it fic for this damned movie, PIE, how to avoid PIE, how to analyze PIE, and my personal alternative to PIE. Alt-text rambles: calculating how long the Engineer's overslept, their potential spiritual kinship to Moominpapa, behind the scenes photos of the suit actors, Prometheus rants in the days of LiveJournal, the game Hades, how hard it personally is to get PIE right, the linguistics nerdery of the Hittite empire, and watermarks. Rants: how the movie fails its premise and hurts my soul with linguistics

27. Shortcomings

The characters, and movie, fail to get their message across to someone bent on their destruction. Rambles: David's confused religious symbolism, Star Trek Alt-text rambles: My desire for fanfic, behind the scenes photos, what other critters the Engineer's suit actor has played, the naming of Australopithecines, crash-proofing a movie set, alien gender, Gandahar and how French animated SF in the 80s was awesome, Scorn and its expert consultation from a cenobite, and Doctor Strangelove. Rants: the assumptions of the human characters, I go from trying to be measured to actively spiting the writer for his take on thoughtful SF Alt-text Rants: Del Toro is the only one who gets me, the movie has forgotten its main character just had a major surgery, one last rant about how terribly unsafe the Prometheus was as a ship, before it becomes definitively not a ship.

28. Momentum

It's the bit where she doesn't turn. Rambles: How to fix the dumbest thing we've seen in a hot minute, Edge of Tomorrow and feeling Tom Cruise's fear, how the dead thing is never really dead in horror. Alt-text rambles: How hard it is to find the most catchy song in We Love Katamari, more behind the scenes pictures of my blorbos, Friday the 13th Part IV, bad braille, and trilobites. Rants: I mean how can you not when the movie forgets how space works? Like, the idea of 3D space as a concept? Also, a particular rock earns my ire, and my ranting about interior designs on ships finally pays off.

29. Dissonance

The ending of the movie, and its tonal incoherency. Rambles: Protagonist-centric morality and lack thereof Alt-text rambles: Star Trek TNG, green blood, caecilian teeth. Rants: shallow christian themes, sequels that could have been, Shaw's confusingly deployed robo-racism Alt-text rants: sequel disappointments, inadvisable post-caesarian activities, how the hell do you fit that much 'burster into one chest, biological plausibility in alien extend-o-mouths

30. Justification

A breakdown of a post-release interview with Ridley Scott, explaining some missing details. Rambles: Gnosticism again, Mesoamerican and European human sacrifice and the exoticization of shared cultural practices, and a hearty book recommendation. Alt-text rambles: Icelandic volcanoes, The Collector (2009), Stephen Speilberg's War of the Worlds and how scaring the shit out of someone isn't necessarily the job of a horror film, the Tollund Man, unique cultural practices, Hello Future Me, and my opinions on what we've seen of Alien: Romulus. Rants: Ancient peoples weren't stupid, an unexamined christian-centric worldview, an unexamined christian-centric worldview, I CANNOT STRESS ENOUGh

#Prometheus (2012)#Prometheus 2012 #this ended up extremely long but it was worth it #the curse has now been lifted #I am free

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centrally-unplanned · 1 year ago

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I played Queen Beast, the 90's retro free English language VN - it was very good! For one, it has the correct moral philosophy for life:

But somewhat more seriously its simultaneously fun & impressive. Its art, as many have commented, is pulled right from an alt-history timeline mash-up of Slayers & Record of Lodoss War, with a deftness I haven't seen in a long while (for a free indie VN at least).

And I think what it does best is how much this goes beyond the art - its plot & writing slots right into the feel of the genre too. It blends detailed worldbuilding, ero comedy, super edgy nightmare fuel, and more all together. Its a little rough at the beginning to be honest, but once it hits its stride and you acclimate to its tonal pacing it flows really well.

For myself I appreciated the socio-economic realities that are woven into the story; the protagonist is a miller and you will hear organically about how that job functions, the impact of declining infrastructure on the local economy, different governance structures in the kingdoms, and so on. Its never the focus but a lot of fantasy stories these days take certain worldbuilding components as a given, which this doesn't, and I appreciate that. As much as it can for its short run-time, at least.

I have seen a bunch of commentaries that downplay its erotic elements - statements to the effect of "oh it has nudity but its not an eroge, its focused on the plot". This is technically correct, it isn't an eroge, but that implies that erotic engagement is not a focus of the story - which is false. That definitely ranks in its top 5 priorities - that is how the best of this genre works, it doesn't believe pornographic elements inhibit narrative development. For some people I'm sure it does - those people won't like this game. If you aren't in that camp I think it works well as a tonal hotpot of a story.

The background art is also just really strong:

Again, free indie VN. Vaulting over that low bar.

#queen beast #Ash Media Archive

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sirfrogsworth · 1 year ago

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It's hard to be nostalgic about Tumblr without remembering my friend Tru.

Truett McGowan.

What a fantastic name.

We met each other because we were both tech geeks following Leo Laporte. He was the very first live streamer. Originally he hosted a TechTV cable show called The Screen Savers. But once G4 took over and focused more on video games, Leo's show was cancelled and he was looking for a new way to broadcast content.

So he built a studio near his home and created his own infrastructure in order to live stream video on the internet. He called his new show "This Week in Tech" or TWiT for short.

Along with his new streaming venture he created a TWiT community using an open source microblogging platform called Laconica. It was a form of Twitter that you could create specifically for a single community. Basically a custom niche Twitter feed. I was trying to be a web designer back then, so I created custom themes for Lacnonica.

This was my own personal theme for a website that I ended up never launching.

Leo called his custom Twitter, "The TWiT Army." And I was his graphic designer and webmaster. I made all of the cute little graphics for the website.

I also did fun holiday themes...

For the Thanksgiving theme, if you hovered over the Turkey it would change to being cooked.

I also took it upon myself to photoshop a little army helmet on the avatar of every single user of the site.

This was the zombie avatar I made for myself during Halloween.

The TWiT Army was also where I started posting my first attempts at Photoshop comedy. Many of them related to The TWiT Army.

And The TWiT Army is where I met Tru. He used a space invader avatar. I made him a couple of different versions.

You may have seen his avatar on the sidebar of my main Tumblr.

We became fast friends. We finished each other's jokes. We talked pretty much all day, every day. He loved Apple back then. I was strictly PC at the time. So we debated about that quite a bit. He would probably be astonished I have a MacBook and that I really love it too.

Our friendship lived in a little text box. We never talked outside of instant messages. But it was one of the most profound friendships of my life. I loved Tru just as much as any friend I've ever known in real life.

Tru started blogging on this brand new site called Tumblr. He reviewed apps for the iPod Touch. Not the iPhone, as that wasn't yet a thing.

I made the banner for his Tumblr.

He kept trying to get me to join Tumblr, but I was busy trying to create my own custom comedy website. But my site kept getting more and more complicated and I could never quite finish it. I was trying to arrange guest authors and create 3 months of content and I was always futzing with the theme and never happy with it.

I was getting frustrated that I could never launch my perfect comedy website and Tru suggested just making a Tumblr and posting funny stuff so I could be creative and have an outlet until my big site was ready to launch.

Little did I know Tumblr would end up being my big comedy website. Eventually I abandoned months of work and just stayed on Tumblr. All of my success here is pretty much because that little space invader pestered me to join when I was being stubborn.

Unfortunately, as some may have figured out already, the story gets sad from there. Tru mentioned briefly that he had a heart defect, but he never said it was serious. He acted like it was no big deal so I never thought too much about it.

We always talked through instant message and email, so we never exchanged phone numbers or addresses or anything like that. Tru was a very private person so he never even published an image of his face online. I only knew him as a space invader.

One day I woke up and sent him a message and got no reply. He usually woke up before me and answered as soon as I said hello. This had been our routine for nearly a year.

An hour went by. Two hours. Three hours.

It was odd for him not to respond for that long. I was really worried but all of my TWiT friends told me I was being paranoid. But there was a huge knot in my stomach telling me otherwise.

But then those hours turned into days. Days into weeks. Weeks into months. My worry grew exponentially as more time passed. I didn't know what to do. I tried finding his family. I even looked into hiring a private investigator. I don't know if I have ever felt a combination of depression & anxiety that intense.

In my heart, I knew what had happened. I knew that heart defect took his life. He was only 26 and it just didn't seem fair. But the not knowing for certain ravaged my mental health. Before all of this I had lost nearly 90 pounds and I gained it all back.

I think maybe a year or so later I found a friend of his who knew him in real life. They were finally able to confirm my suspicions. He passed away from his heart condition. That was my first real experience with grief. But I was so thankful for that bit of closure. I was finally able to let go of my anxiety and mourn him properly.

But Tru gave me such a wonderful gift. He pushed me to just start making things. To stop stalling and just create things to make people smile.

And you all probably know the rest from there.

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whencyclopedia · 8 months ago

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The Iraq Museum & Three Wars: Three Steps from Hell

This article documents and elaborates on the many critical behind-the-scenes events, unknown to the public, before the history leaves us.

The author

The bulk of the “the land between the two rivers” lies in what we call today the Republic of Iraq. People have been living there, around and between the Euphrates-Tigris system for thousands of years. The earth of this land has been irrigated by these two rivers and throughout several millennia, a multitude of cultures, city-states, and empires flourished in Mesopotamia, resulting in a gradual development in each and every aspect of human life. However, the interaction between them was not always peaceful. Wars, military confrontations, and political coalitions, driven by the perspective of “the victors and the vanquished”, have made the land ever eager for blood instead of water. Throughout the history of the region, no one knows how many people have been killed in clashes between countless different rivals. The last actor in this continuous black comedy was the so-called Islamic State in Iraq and the Levant, which has been irrigating Mesopotamia with different types of blood, from all around the world.

Wars and blood, instead of peace, doves, and flowers, dominated and shaped Mesopotamian history. Iraq, the legitimate heir of this legacy (by the order of destiny), the core of the Cradle of Civilizations, still bleeds. The Iraq Museum in Baghdad was officially opened on June 14, 1926 CE. The current building in Al-Salihiyyah District was completed in 1963 CE. Located within the heart of the Republic of Iraq’s capital city, Baghdad, this great Museum of the human being and humanity’s history has sustained several “life-threatening and function-threatening” events. The Iraq Museum’s existence and persistence have been punctuated by three devastating wars within a relatively short period of time.

The Iraq-Iran War, 1980-1988 CE

A military conflict erupted in September 1980 CE between Iraq and its neighbor, Iran, resulting in the longest war in the 20th century. The war lasted for 8 years and ended on August 8, 1988 CE. These 8 years left their thumbprint on Mesopotamian history and resulted in a negative impact on the Iraq Museum. According to Iraqi laws, museums should close in wartime. At the beginning of the 1981 CE, the contents of the galleries of the Iraq Museum were packed and stored inside the museum itself. The large Assyrian stone slabs and several statues were left in situ, protected by foam and sandbags. This had rendered the museum virtually inactive; however, it was not closed officially. People simply ceased visiting the museum, as the galleries were somewhat empty. In 1983 CE, the construction of a new wing had increased the number of the museum’s halls and galleries from 13 to 23; the Babylonian-Chaldean, Hatra, Islamic, Manuscripts, and Coins halls received the bulk of this expansion. Some of the stored contents were re-displayed again and the new galleries were filled in with many artifacts. However, this short period was terminated rapidly with the escalation of the war. Once again, the relics were packed and stored and the museum’s halls were lifeless. Luckily, the Museum escaped damage incurred by the so-called “War of the Cities” between 1984-1988 CE (where both Iraq and Iran bombarded different cities haphazardly, resulting in the deaths of thousands of non-combat civilians and wide-spread civilian infrastructure attrition. When the war ended in August 1988, the museum’s day-to-day operations were mainly administrative; the public was not here.

#History #Archaeology #IraqMuseum #MesopotamianArtandArchitecture #WHE #[#]

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justimajin · 1 year ago

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House of the Haunted

Genre: Fluff & Comedy

↳ 3.5k / Supernatural AU (inspired from Hotel Transylvania)

[Includes: Vampire! Yoongi, Werewolf! Jungkook, Ghost! Namjoon, Demon! Jimin, Angel! Hoseok, Warlock! Taehyung, Faerie! Seokjin, Human! Reader]

Summary: It's Halloween and the Council of the Haunted have convened together for a very important and highly classified discussion - there's a *whispers* human on the premises.

A/N: I was originally going to post this for Halloween, but it unfortunately got a bit delayed. It's just meant to be a fun story for spooks and laughs. Happy (Belated) Halloween! 🎃

The front door creaks open.

The mansion is nothing short of grand, lined with expansive black marble floors and dark wooden walls. There are ebony crystals hanging down from the dimly lit chandelier, connected right above the old spiral staircase that’s decorated with small oil lamps. The wind ever so whistles against the grey murky windows, echoing through the emptiness of the haunting infrastructure.

Amongst the different doors next to the staircase, only one is brightly lit.

A tall man dressed in lavish purple robes shuffles forward, his eyes darting around. There’s a sudden change in the air, akin to a low draft he feels against his back that his keen senses pick up on right away.

“Taehyung.” A voice whispers into the night and he swivels, robes cascading around him as he does. “You came.”

His lips pull up into a cheeky smile, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

The transparent man before him gyrates around, his feet floating an inch off the ground.

“Follow me.”

Taehyung obliges, trailing after him.

“You know, Seokjin will be very pleased to see you too.”

Taehyung deeply chuckles, fingertips absent-mindly playing with the mist that radiates out of them. “I’m sure he will be.”

He’s led into a large dining room, the very one that is brightly lit. In the middle of it sits a long outstretched table that’s entirely covered with a black tablecloth and with candlelight decor. There are seven wooden chairs lining the table and accompanying, seven golden chalices.

It’s a room he’s become very familiar with over the course of the last couple of months. Namely, ever since one fateful day when he was granted a hand-crafted invitation with intricate writing and symbols. At the time, he truthfully wasn’t quite sure to expect, or rather, who to expect.

His answer came without another thought and it took the form of an old, but peculiarly cheery Faerie man – the very one seated at the head of the table and examining a chalice before him.

“Warlock Kim Taehyung has arrived.” The voice booms into the room, making Seokjin look up.

The Faerie man rises to his feet, addressing the transparent man.

“Thank you, Namjoon.” He nods in confirmation, before wafting back into the breeze and exiting the room.

Seokjin spins around with a big grin, “Taehyung!”

“You haven’t changed a bit.” Taehyung remarks, giving the man a swift hug. “Though, your way of sending invites has gotten really interesting.”

He twirls his fingers and a piece of paper emerges, landing in his hands. He envelopes it, eyes focused on the written words. “A call for all supernatural beings to meet, for the Council of the Haunted to convene once more for urgent matters–”

Taehyung snickers, “You write like you’re a hundred years old already.”

“I was trying to be formal!” Seokjin protests, irises glimmering with specks of pink.

Taehyung raises a playful brow, “A Faerie trying to be courteous? Now that’s funny.”

Seokjin shakes his head with a sigh, “Sit down, will you? I’m going to have more guests to tend to.”

Taehyung non-chantently hums, eyeing the wine in the centre of the table with intrigue. The former Faerie hears more footsteps, and he hurriedly leaves the room altogether.

Making his way to the front door, Seokjin is met with the sight of Namjoon surrounded by others.

“Well, well, who do we have here?” He piques, mischievousness brimming in his voice.

Two men appear before him – contrasting like day and night.

One of them has swept violet hair and dark ebony wings sticking out from his back. A dark red beam within his orbs and there’s a soft smile lingering on his lips. The other has a mop of brown hair and a pair of white wings. He holds a deep scowl, arms crossed and his blue eyes stern.

“Demon Park Jimin and Angel Jung Hoseok have arrived.” Namjoon announces from behind, appearing a bit frazzled from the duo’s sudden appearance.

“The Council of the Haunted, huh?” Hoseok remarks, “You haven’t called us here in ages.”

Jimin peers around, “The decor is really nice, did you remodel the place?”

Seokjin merely laughs, immediately engulfing the two into a hug. “It’s been a while, you two!”

Hoseok grumbles and Jimin giggles. “Come on in! Taehyung’s already here.”

He steps to the side, gesturing the two men forward. They enter the grand dining room with Namjoon’s assistance, taking spots at opposite sides of the table.

Seokjin comes up behind Namjoon. “That makes three – who are we missing now?”

“The vampire and werewolf.” Namjoon utters, grimacing a bit. “I was informed today was a full moon.”

“Of course it is.” Seokjin sighs, glancing at his present guests. “We’ll have to wait a bit longer.”

Taehyung raises his chalice of wine with a grin. “M’kay with me.”

“Wait, I have to sit here longer?” Hoseok recoils, “With him?”

Jimin sweetly smiles. “How interesting. I share the same sentiments.”

The Faerie narrows his eyes, “Taehyung, that wine is supposed to be for everybody.” He turns to his ghostly friend, whispering underneath his breath. “Namjoon, can you make sure those two don’t cause a brawl on my dining table?”

He immediately nods, effortlessly floating over to the table. Seokjin turns around with a huff, planting his hands against his waist.

At this point, anyone who will arrive will be considered late. He should have considered this, knowing that some of his members simply had the tendency to be forgetful and–

“Greetings.”

His heart nearly jumps out of his chest at the low voice behind him, wide pink orbs coming into contact with a red-eyed man with midnight hair and long incisors sticking outside of his teeth.

“Oh gosh–” Seokjin presses a hand against his heart, attempting to calm himself. “It’s just you, Yoongi.” He huffs, “For a moment, you had me scared there.”

The vampire looks at him impassibly, “Sorry about that.”

Seokjin shakes it off, “Don’t worry about it.” He stares at him intently, tilting his head to the side in amusement. “I didn’t think you would come. What changed your mind?”

Yoongi seems to hesitate for a split-second, before mumbling the words.

“You said there would be others here….I was curious.”

The corners of Seokjin’s mouth upturn and he watches as the vampire silently trails over to the dining table, carefully taking a seat amongst the table. He was really interesting – that was for sure.

Suddenly, a howl breaks through and echoes into the walls of his home. He swivels around, just in time to catch the faintest blur of caramel brown fur.

There’s an enormous wolf launching itself against him, practically pouncing onto the poor defenceless Faerie man before he has the chance to say anything.

“Okay, okay, I get it!” He scolds, pushing him away. “Jungkook, get off of me!”

The caramel brown wolf whines loudly, as if in utter protest. Seokjin deeply sighs, petting his head rather awkwardly.

“There! You happy now?”

The wolf seems to let out a pleased howl, before its paw hits against the marbled floor. Within a couple of seconds, its bones begin to crack and a young man with crinkled golden eyes and a huge bunny smile stares back at him.

“Hi hyung!” He chuckles and Seokjin grins lop-sidley, “Thanks for inviting me.”

“Thanks for coming, JK.” Seokjin turns to Namjoon, leading Jungkook in. “Everyone’s here!”

Jungkook brightens up, “Namjoon! It’s so nice seeing you again.”

The ghost man stares back at him wide-eyed as Jungkook loudly cackles, throwing his head back. Seokjin ends up pushing at his shoulders to get him to sit down in one of the chairs.

“Haha, veryy original.” He sarcastically retorts, moving to take his seat at the head of the table. Taehyung, Jimin and Jungkook get seated on his right side, while Namjoon, Hoseok and Yoongi remain on the other.

He ushers for everyone to raise their chalices.

Seokjin clears his voice. “We have all gathered here today for a very important matter to discuss.”

Jungkook raises his hand, “Have you finally decided to remodel the meeting room to look less worse?”

He scoffs, “No.”

“Are you considering taking a step down and letting someone with purer intentions take over?” Hoseok remarks.

Seokjin sighs, “No.”

“Is this about the time I accidentally turned one of your workers into a goblin?” Taehyung ponders.

“What? No.”

“Is this when I forgot to turn your goblin back into your worker?”

“Tae, no–”

“Is this when the goblin wrecked havoc on–”

“Okay, then!” Seokjin loudly coughs underneath his breath, a bright smile plastering on his features. There’s a sudden build up of pressure into the room, as if a hazy wave had crossed over everyone’s mind.

His irises tinge with pink and the room is taken aback with a command, all members in his group visibly relaxing more than before.

“This is so cool.” Jimin whispers, specks of pink dwindling in his own eyes.

“Stop trying to toy with us and get to the point.” Hoseok barks, shaking his head with a huff.

Seokjin grins wickedly, “Now that I finally do have your attention, there is something urgent to discuss.” Taehyung raises his hand again, but Seokjin glares at him, causing him to lower it, “This matter is of utmost importance and I believe it will affect all of us sooner or later.”

Six sets of rounded eyes stare back at him.

He drops the ball, “I have discovered….a human in my home.”

A sharp, collective gasp echoes through the room.

Jimin and Hoseok glance at each other wide-eyed while Taehyung presses a hand against his chest. Jungkook stares back at Seokjin with doe eyes as Namjoon shrinks back and Yoongi takes a sip out of his chalice filled with wine.

“You should have started with that!” Taehyung protests.

“Well, maybe you all hadn’t been – Oh, I don’t know – interrupting me constantly, then I would have!” Seokjin exclaims.

“How could you let a human in here?!” Hoseok hisses, aware only the supernatural kind were granted permission.

“This is why I have gathered all of you here.” Seokjin speaks a bit softer, “I would like some opinions about the matter and to frankly, form my own.”

Namjoon floats forward, “We had discovered her a while ago wandering outside around the mansion. She seemed lost, as if she had nowhere to go.”

“And?” Hoseok raises a brow, “You thought letting her in here was a good idea?”

“I don’t think it's too bad.” Jimin objects, “They were just trying to help.”

“Help a human? Out of all people?!”

Taehyung bites his bottom lip, “What if...the human tries to kill us?”

“I wouldn’t take it that far.” Jimin reasons, “Humans aren’t too dangerous.”

Jungkook leans back in his chair, gold eyes flickering as if recalling a fond memory. “My girlfriend used to be human and tried killing me once.”

Hoseok deeply frowns, “That’s not something to be proud of, JK.”

He huffs, “We lived happily ever after, thank you very much.”

“Someone’s a hopeless romantic.” Taehyung chuckles underneath his breath and Jungkook sends him a glare.

“Well, I for one, don’t trust it.” Hoseok states, crossing his arms. “Humans should be monitored because of how fickle they can be.”

Jimin snorts as he sips his wine, “That’s a lot coming from you.”

Hoseok venomously glowers at him.

“You got something to say, demon?”

Jimin smiles wistfully. “I don’t know, it just seems like a lot coming from an angel that’s been notoriously involved with a female demon.”

Namjoon lets out an audible gasp. Jungkook’s doe eyes increase in size and Yoongi spins his head around. Taehyung leans forward with gleaming eyes and Seokjin leans back, taking a sip of his wine.

Hoseok blushes, flustered from all the sudden attention. “T-Then what about you, huh? Why don’t you tell everyone how fond you are of humans?!”

Taehyung revolves his head around, staring at Jimin with amusement now. Seokjin sips more of his wine, intrigued by the direction of the conversation.

“What can I say?” He cheekily smiles. “Humans are very kind and loving. I have no regrets.”

“Why you–”

“H-Hyung!” Jungkook looks at Yoongi in desperation. The poor werewolf is caught sitting next to the bickering angel and demon, their interactions almost making him feel like they very well arguing over his own two shoulders. “W-What do you think about all this?”

Yoongi leans forward, clearing his throat. “Humans can be very violent and destructive, if swayed in the wrong direction. However, they can be compassionate. It’s something can take decades, even years to be able to find the right one–”

“Not all of us wait for our significant others to be reincarnated, hyung.” Taehyung comments with a smile.

“T-That’s beautiful, hyung.” Jungkook whispers while sniffling.

Taehyung looks at Jimin with a grin, mouthing ‘hopeless romantic’. The demon loudly giggles, causing Jungkook to scoff.

“Hey, it is! Do you know how long it takes to find the one you love?” He proclaims, “They could literally be your best friend and you wouldn’t even realize it!”

“Okay, JK’s started to project. Anyone else?” Seokjin looks around the table, growing bored with the conversation.

His dancing pink eyes land on Taehyung. “How about you?”

“What about me?” Taehyung gulps the last of his wine.

“You have a human partner, no?”

Taehyung smiles amused. “Do I? Who knows?”

“Oh, stop being so secretive and mysterious.” Hoseok rolls his eyes.

“I’m a warlock, angel.” Taehyung snaps his fingers, mist sparkling around that Hoseok waves off with a disgusted look. “I don’t let out my secrets so easily.”

“Okay, so Taehyung’s still as hard-headed as ever.” Seokjin glances over at Namjoon, an unamused hand planted against his face. “Any progress?”

“Two members have vouched for the human and two are against,” He looks up with a frown, staring at Taehyung, “and I believe one is undecided…?”

“So it’s a tie.” Seokjin heaves, pressing a hand against his temples, “How am I ever going to make a decision?”

“What’s going on?”

The entire room plunges into an uncomfortable silence.

Everyone slowly turns to the entrance of the grand room, line of sight redirecting to the person attached to the quiet voice that echoes into the chamber.

Your eyes are as wide as ever, taking in the grand table and the chalices of wine in front of the seven interesting individuals. There’s a mix of different coloured eyes staring back at you, paired with intricate features like wolf ears, fangs, mist, and wings. Among them, a human-like man with pink orbs is the only one you recognize.

“Seokjin?” You wonder, “Are these your friends?”

“Y/N.” Although he smiles, it doesn’t completely reach his eyes. You wonder if you interrupted something, especially with how they all stare at you like you were supernatural.

Seokjin glances around, continuing to smile, “Something like that.”

“O-Oh, that’s nice. What were you guys talking about?”

You stare at the pink-eyed man, not noticing how the angel uncomfortably shifts, or how the demon smiles in your direction. You don’t notice the werewolf staring at you naively, or the intrigue the vampire holds. You especially don’t notice the warlock pushing his wine closer to himself, or the floating man that looks at you in wonder.

“Um…” Hoseok warily peers at Taehyung.

“Don’t mind me.” He swipes away at Hoseok’s drink with mist, causing Jimin to laugh.

“Hey!”

“Shhh.” Jungkook chides, accidentally letting out a howl in the process.

“Take mine.” Yoongi offers. “I prefer blood.”

“Y/N!” Seokjin chimes in, stern pink orbs locking onto his table of supernaturals who immediately pipe down. His arm wraps around your shoulder, a charming smile on his lips.

“How about you wait outside, hm? Things are a bit…unearthly here.”

“Oh…okay!” You chirp, “I don’t mind, I hope you have fun with your friends.”

Seokjin nods, smiling unmovingly. He quickly guides you outside, before looking over in Namjoon’s direction urgently, who floats over to your side.

The two of you leave the room and Seokjin continues to smile until the door shuts.

He spins around.

“Would you all calm down?!” He hisses, taking the wine out of Taehyung’s hands and instantly separating the members, “Didn’t I already tell you she’s human?”

“And?” Hoseok retaliates, “You’re the most human looking out of all of us!”

“Yeah!” Taehyung preaches, “You’re biased towards her.”

Seokjin rolls his eyes. “For your kind information, I’m actually half human which is why I don’t look completely like a Faerie!”

He gestures to his ears, which should have sharper pointed ends but take on a human-like appearance instead.

“Biased! I’m calling it!” Taehyung says again.

“Wait hyung, then why do you need our help?” Jungkook questions, “Wouldn’t it be easier for you to figure it out by yourself?”

“I needed opinions.” He states, crossing his arms. “Despite being half-human, it isn’t as easy making decisions regarding them.”

“Well, I think she’s nice. Doesn’t seem too harmful.” Jimin pitches in.

“Yeah, I wasn’t quaking in fear.” Hoseok retorts.

“She’s not a werewolf slayer, I’ll tell you that.” Jungkook states with uttermost seriousness.

Yoongi shrugs, “Don’t think she’ll reincarnate anytime soon either.”

“Can I turn her into a goblin?” Taehyung lets his intrusive thoughts out, but Seokjin frowns.

He regards all of them, “I appreciate the penny for your thoughts,” His voice deepens, sounding borderline threatening “–and Taehyung, no.”

He pouts and Seokjin sighs, standing at the front of the table once again.

“I have made my decision and it will be final – Y/N be allowed to stay in this home until we can recover where she came from.”

A low laugh escapes your lips.

“Is something wrong?” Namjoon wonders and you shake your head.

“Oh, it’s nothing. You just have a really interesting group of friends.”

“Ah, well, we are all quite interesting, aren’t we?” Namjoon chuckles, before fumbling. “Uh, n-not in a suspicious way, of course. In a more human-like way, with human lifespans and human way of livin–”

“You’re all supernaturals, right?”

Namjoon freezes.

“Y-You knew?”

“It was quite obvious from the start.” You laugh, “Also, I heard Seokjin mumbling something along the lines of getting the creatures of the night to gather together just like the good ol’ tales.”

Your laughter grows as Namjoon places a sheepish hand against his temples.

He sighs, “Well, you aren’t wrong about any of that.”

“And what about you?” He turns, only to be met with your curious gaze and warm smile.

He grows hyper aware, “W-What about me?”

“I could hear them talking earlier.” You explain, gaze not leaving him. “Are you like the others? Do you have a human counterpart too?”

Namjoon is taken aback, not quite expecting you to ask. But then his smile diminishes, hints of anguish filling his orbs.

“I used to, but she crossed over not too long ago.” He looks down at his hands, his transparency only becoming more evident by the minute. “I’m just a wandering ghost now.”

Your heart sinks. “Wandering?”

“Regrets.” Namjoon shuts his eyes, “I’m tethered to this world because of my last regret – which had to do with my dead wife.”

“Oh…” Your eyes soften. “I….I hope she’s in a better place.”

“She is.” Although remorseful, you notice the hope that fills his smile. It results in one lifting onto your own lips.

The doors before suddenly come bustling open, startling the two of you.

Seokjin emerges, brimming with confidence.

“There you are!” He boasts, “A final decision has been made!”

Namjoon looks at him eagerly, “Is she staying?”

“She is, but–” Seokjin waves a finger around. “As long as she follows the rules and… accepts our true identities.”

“Oh, I already know you’re supernaturals.” You profess, much to Seokjin’s utter shock.

“She knows?!” Hoseok’s voice pitches out from the table.

“Humans are smarter than you give them credit for.” Jimin snorts.

“Well, that’s my cue to go.” Taehyung snaps his fingers, vanishing into purple smoke.

“I-I guess that answered my concern.” Seokjin stutters, staring at you with a mix of surprise and horror.

“Thank you for letting me stay.” You warmly smile, glancing in Namjoon’s direction. “It’ll be nice getting to know all of you."

He smiles back and Seokjin nods, widening the door and allowing you to enter into the dining room.

“Supernaturals are a bit peculiar around humans.” Seokjin states, placing another chair at the table, “But hopefully you’ll fit in with time.”

You slip into it, taking the seat of the eighth member amongst the large table.

Leaning back into the chair, there are specks of pink dancing within your irises.

“Don’t worry.” You grin wickedly, “I think I’ll fit in just fine.”

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memorypassage · 9 months ago

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What's ur biggest inspiration?

moments i've never witnessed before, traveling, discovering new flavors of a particular feeling, people i meet in my dreams, niche german/french new wave from the seventies and eighties, staring at something that is changing so slowly that you can only witness the change if you pay attention to it, re-listening to voice memos from previous summers, love, the outcome of chaos, and the outcome of order, airports, when i flew over egypt, movies, facing the ceiling, two mirrors looking at each other, how things exist (always), early stuff from artists, natural fear that every human has, tmz, time, accidental photographs, los angeles/hollywood, horror movies, stand up comedy without laughing, hypnosis, holding your breath, classical music, my grandpa, believe, infrastructure, hotel lobbies. +more.

currently

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man-down-in-hatchet-town · 2 months ago

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The Case of the Greater Gatsby Episode 15 "Say You'll Be There" and Episode 16 "Torn"

And… we’re back! It’s a been a bit, between the hiatus, my decision to re-listen to the entire podcast before checking out new episodes, and then me simply not feeling like comedy podcast discussion in the immediate wake of the 2024 American election. But here we are, and I’m ready to talk some Greater Gatsby. And by some, I of course mean “way too much.”

Full theorizing under the cut!

Let’s start with Dash and his latest mysterious and inexplicable appearance, albeit this time in a more passable disguise. As interesting as his abrupt showing at the Los Angeles Shady Palms Penitentiary is (I see what you did with that name, Persauds, and I love it), I’m more compelled by his equally abrupt departure. Fig and Ford spend an inordinate amount of time getting Dash out of their way, so it’s noticeable when he actually leaves of his own accord. So why did he skulk off? It seems most likely that he was off to report about Fig’s post-mortem request, especially since Claudette later mentions how closed-off Hypatia has become. But can we say that for sure? It’s worth noting that the only other person present for every single one of Dash’s appearances (as far as I recall, and not counting the Christmas special) is not Fig or Ford but Wilhelmina. She was at the movie lot, Fig and Ford’s office when Mel, TD, and Dash all appear, at Bixby’s for the disastrous information heist, and now at the Penitentiary. I’ve been thinking that Dash had something to do with the dispersal of the threatening letters, but what if it’s the opposite? What if, after the arrival of the first letter, Roger hired Dash to keep an eye on his beloved wife? Honestly, Roger feels like one of the few characters in this story who would actually hire Dash for anything. This certainly doesn’t explain why Dash left when he did, but it makes a sort of sense otherwise. I should also note that all of Dash’s appearances except for the information heist could also be tied back to TD, but that one exception is too big for me to think anything’s there.

But also, ROGER IS BACK! I love Gabe, I love Roger, I’ve been awaiting his grand entrance for literally over a year, and it didn’t disappoint! Roger successfully producing movies and more importantly merch from prison is a brilliant joke. While we didn’t get confirmation that Roger is the other producer Fitz was considering selling Greater Gatsby (I’m a little annoyed at Ford for not asking about that, to be honest), he does seem like he’s building up to something big, keeping his name on the map and developing the personal infrastructure to do something on the scale of Greater Gatsby upon his release. But what TD have to do with it? Is Roger working with the Hammermeisters on plans to make or hide Greater Gatsby once the script is found? After all, TD’s inclusion in the prison scenes has to be important…

Speaking of important, we FINALLY got around to revisiting arguably the single most important character in this story: Citizen Jasper Fox. We get an explanation for his incorrect account of the night of the murder—he was “bullied” into lying by Mo Beats—but I’m honestly not satisfied that that’s all there is to him. Shipwrecked, don’t think I’ve forgotten that he spent a good portion of his first ever scene railing against all the sequels and adaptions in Hollywood. He’s the first person in the show to openly espouse the opinions apparently held by our mysterious letter threatener, and I do hold that against him. Also, the question remains—why exactly is Mo Beats covering up so much evidence? Is he obscuring the crime to protect the guilty, or to stop other investigators from solving it before he does and depriving him of a nice, shiny promotion?

It’s too bad that Ford can’t hand himself a similar promotion, because the tie pin in Sheilah’s curtains is a fascinating find. While I suppose the pin could simply read “Ben,” I think we can all agree that it’s more likely the initials “B.E.N.” and that those initials most likely belong to Barnaby Nightingale. And this probably means Barnaby was Citizen Jasper Fox’s mysterious intruder, and also that he’s probably after the tapes. He’s one of the few people to know that they exist. But was he looking to cover up the murder, delete evidence of his threat to Fitzy, protect Vivian and his marriage, or do something else altogether? Alternatively, if Barnaby is the killer (a big “if”), his tie pin could have become caught in the curtains during a physical fight with Fitzgerald. However, we do know that Sheilah cleaned the house in preparation for Zelda’s arrival, and it seems unlikely that someone of her observational power wouldn’t spot the pin.

Now for the real wacky theorizing I know everyone expects from these posts. Assuming the tie does belong to Barnaby, the B and the N initials are obvious and known, but what about the E? My current wild-bonkers-and-almost-definitely-not-true conspiracy theory is that the “E” stands for Eugene, and Barnaby himself is the missing Punchwhistle triplet. He does makes a joke earlier in the show about how the real Barnaby Nightingale was a deceased soldier who’s identity he stole, so what if he wasn’t completely kidding? What if Barnaby Nightingale is a fiction, whether completely made up or stolen different original man, that Eugene created for himself, adopting “E” as a new middle initial as tribute to his former life? After all, one of the few things we know about Eugene is that he always knew what to do, and Barnaby is somehow always able to come out of top. The last time we saw Lex, she and Rex were left passed out and unattended with Ford’s case notes. What if Lex woke up, and perused Ford’s notes to find the lead that Rex mentioned after her disappearance? And what if that thing she found was about Barnaby? If the lead to Eugene’s identity is hidden in Ford’s notes, there’s only so many people that could be. Also, if Fitzgerald found out about Barnaby’s real identity in the pursuit for Greater Gatsby gossip, that could give him yet another notice for murder….

On the other side of things, new character Juniper gave us and Fig a surprising amount to think about with her twin revelations: that she used to date a PI and that Sheilah is running a new gossip radio show with a lot to say about Fig. Does Sheilah still believe that Fig is trying to get back into the newspaper biz, and is running an advance smear campaign to head off any potential competition? Or is she simply getting revenge after what Fig did to her toilet? As for Juniper’s PI Boyfriend, is that possibly Ford’s deep dark secret that must be protected at all costs? That, despite his aversion to Hollywood, he dated an up-and-coming starlet? It doesn’t seem all that likely, considering how willing he is to admit his attraction to Vivian (though to be fair, being attracted to an actress and actually dating one are two very different things). On the other hand, there is a similar sultry vibe to Mary Kate’s and Krystina’s voice performances. And that revelation would be a very cute and silly answer that doesn’t tarnish our image of Ford as a character.

Other thoughts and observations: -I really don’t see Whitley as the murderer, a work feud over Great Gatsby is a little too blunt and obvious a motive, but it’ll be interesting to learn just what his spat with Fitzgerald was about (Whitley’s lack of care for the source material, perhaps? If Grapes of Wrath is anything to go by) and how it fits into the larger mystery. -The maroon fabric on the tapes is interesting. A couple of episodes back, Donald mentioned how Vivian sometimes wears red—is that what the fabric comes from? If so, it could mean nothing—we know Vivian used to play around with the tape recorder before Fitzy’s murder. Though both Nightingale’s leaving clothing bits behind as evidence seems a little too convenient… could someone be setting them up?

Alright, onto the next two episodes! Apparently this next one contains answers about the Christmas Party???? EXCITED!!

#the case of the greater gatsby #fig and ford #fig wineshine #ford phillips #fig and ford: the case of the greater gatsby #greater gatsby #shipwrecked comedy #wilhelmina vanderjetski #claudette knickerbocker #dash gunfire #roger haircreme #vivian nightingale #barnaby nightingale #citizen jasper fox #td hammermeister

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