#it really upsets me tbh.

[kirby-the-gorb]

[bunnieswithknives]

Can we possibly get your version of osma? I'd be interested to see what you did with her

Here you go!! I was putting this off a bit cause, I'll be honest, the way the reveal/transition scene was handled was actually kinda upsetting for me.

I did read on her Wiki though that she's apparently a fairy which is awesome as hell. I haven't gotten to that part in the books yet but I'm glad to have something to chew on in my time of need.

[todayisafridaynight]

[skitskatdacat63]

"it was good fun! Surprisingly competitive I would say!"

[lizzybeeee]

The Lucanis vs Illario story would have had greater emotional depth/intrigue if the writers didn't water down how fucked up the Crows are as an organization.

Just some thoughts about how, out of all the side villains, Illario had some great potential to be a really interesting/tragic character in my opinion.

TL;DR: Zevran Aranai has a knife with Caterina's name on it for good reason and Lucanis/Illario need therapy...or whatever the Thedas equivalent is called...talking to Rook, I dunno

Going into DATV as a new player, or even as a returning one, the whitewashing of the Crows has a lot of the potential complexities of that life simply ignored or barely touched upon. The entire 'Illario vs Lucanis' boils down to: Illario seething in the shadows about Lucanis being the 'best boy'™ of the family while Illario is an after thought - which he is.

Let's be real, Illario is not subtle and immediately comes across as the Scar to Lucanis' 'Mufasa'. It's a questline with a very straightforward villain who has pretty lackluster motivations from what info we're provided - being 'I want power and to be the First Talon'. The game does very little explore what motivations he may have beyond being jealous of Lucanis/wanting more power.

However, if you play the quest line knowing what previous games have set up about the Crows - about how cutthroat and brutal the life is behind the glamour - then you can see that the entire Lucanis vs Illario conflict has amazing potential to be a dramatic tragedy.

We've seen how the life of Crow can affect Zevran - someone who was sold into the life through child-slavery. How interesting would it be to see how the life of a Crow can affect someone who was born into it? It's pretty clear in-game that Caterina intends for her grandchildren to carry on the family tradition - despite the fact that this 'family tradition' has likely led to the deaths of most of her grandchildren and however many children she had.

If there's banter about how Illario's/Lucanis' parents/cousins died specifically I haven't heard it, but the impression I got in-game was that it was likely linked to the Crows/politics in some way? Feel free to correct me! Still majorly fucked up that she pushes her grandsons into this life regardless!

Lucanis/Illario's situation was not like Zevran's - who was sold into the Crow's through slavery, with no one to speak up for him. Caterina was a woman who had power, who knew what the life of a Crow meant, and who still pushed those she 'loved' into it because is consolidated her place in the system. For all the Crows talk of 'family' Caterina doesn't seem to give a shit about them unless if they're contributing to the family business in some way - not to mention the whole 'you fail and we kill you' clause of being a Crow in the first place.

In the 'Wigmaker Job' from Tevinter Nights Lucanis talks about how Caterina hit him [also Illario] with her cane for mistakes and had him spend days without food/water. How he used to hate her but now 'realizes' that it was her way of ensuring he survived the life of being an Antivan Crow. Did it end up protecting them? It likely pushed them both to refine their skills out of fear. It's likely that simply by association with her they would be targets and thus needed to know how to take care of themselves and fight.

But why have him as a Crow in the first place? Why not simply train them well to defend themselves? You can't deny that she doesn't benefit from having her grandchildren in the family business - intentionally wanting Lucanis to take over her position as First Talon. The Antivan Crows are a force to be reckoned with and being one brings a whole lot of power in Antiva - being part of the elite of that group even more so.

If the game showed us the ugly reality of the Crows - the brutality of the lifestyle and how cutthroat the organization is, it could have really added some depth to Illario's betrayal - having it be more than "I want more power/respect" to "this is the result of what you taught me was valuable in life."

Warden: "Do you actually enjoy being an assassin?" Zevran: "And why not? There are many things to enjoy about being a Crow in Antiva. You are respected. You are feared. The authorities go out of their way to overlook your trespasses. Even the rewards are nothing to turn your nose up at."

Illario, bitter about Caterina favoring Lucanis - resentful of the fact that she has already decided that Lucanis will be her successor, being offered power by the Venatori (at the expense of the Crows) and accepting because why not? How different is it from what the Crows do? Isn't power and status the whole point of working yourself up in the Crows? Getting into a relationship with Zara because why not? Isn't sex part of the allure of being a Crow? Why can't he have this? Why shouldn't he have this?

Rook: "When we met, it didn't seem like Illario and Caterina were close." Lucanis: "It was hard to be close to her. Even for me. And...I was her favorite."

Why would he have connections to his family? Why should he? Caterina certainly never seemed to value 'family' beyond what they could do for her and their family legacy. Most of his family is already dead, and of those that remain the only parental figure he has obviously favors Lucanis. We don't have a lot of evidence in-game to show that Illario ever really cared for Lucanis, but the prequel story 'The Wake' and Lucanis' own banter imply that they were practically brothers, best friends. Perhaps he did care and then ceased to at some point, perhaps he didn't at all, or perhaps he accepted that an early death for them both was inevitable like everyone else in their family. Dead now or later - what was the difference? At least if Illario sells him out now to the Venatori then he'll get something from it instead of another dead family member to bury.

It's the tragic result of raising a child in an environment where he was taught and experienced the need for self-preservation at all costs. Constantly threatened, punished, and made well aware of that fact that his life was an expendable commodity. Then, when things in the world went to shit he picked the only option that made sense to him. To save himself.

The irony of the potential fall of the Crows, the fall of House Dellamorte, coming at the hands of one of their own - not because he had a change of heart but because he was taught too well by them. The Crows view those that fail them as disposable, someone to be discarded - if the Crows fail Illario, what is to stop him from applying that mindset to them?

But this would require the writers to acknowledge how messed up the Crows are and we can't do that to our 'Noble Freedom Fighters'™. They'll also need to address Zevran's existence and what lore was established in past games...and we can't have that either lmao.

[silently-standingstill]

TEAM8s is not a team that did nothing, but rather a team that suffered from unused potential

This is an analysis of Team8s in TPOT 1-2, and (most) characters on the team. This is what I believe to be how an arc for Team8s could've been portrayed if their team had something going on before the merge. This analysis takes into consideration their experiences in BFDIA and BFB, and how it could've affected TPOT and their team.

Team8s is a team that is full of potential, it was formed through Coiny wanting to have woah bunch reunited, and Saw and Gaty wanting to team with Barf Bag over having zig zags, it is also a team made up of close duos (+ Needle), and 5/8 of the members having leader qualities. This is a team that has so much potential because of how much conflict could have arisen, even before the team was officially formed, Coiny, Gaty and Pin were arguing over the team's name, over something so trivial too! This interaction shows how strong they are with their wants and beliefs, and rooted in why the team was formed, that it should be named after why they're in the team, instead of making something united together. The characters joined for different reasons and it's interesting seeing right off the bat how strong each of their presences are. For potential, I believe Pin and Coiny's conflict with their experiences in BFDIA could've made for something interesting, especially since two of the characters were dragged into the team because of that. BFDIA is something Coiny wishes to relive and want that experience to be ongoing, but it isn't and he cannot move on from the past, contrasting with Pin's distaste for the season because of her treatment, experiences, even becoming disabled in the season and nobody caring other than Coiny. They have extremely different views of the season that brought them together despite being so close, and with this team, I believe it would have given them the chance to show their frustrations about the season, and have the ability to communicate more in depth about why it left such an impact on both of them, and also how they can move on from it and enjoy the future outside of that season. That being said, the characters outside of that duo can push that potential arc forward, BFDIA being a season that some characters weren't there for, or didn't impact them overall. Donut being the first eliminated, the game itself wouldn't have much importance to him, and due to his early elimination, he grew as a character due to that. If his previous characterization was referenced by Coiny or any other character, either Barf Bag or pin could remarked that he isn't the same person, he still retains his irritable nature but he now is more considerate and thoughtful, a person who is a leader and rational. The past is not the present and he's very different from his beginnings. Speaking of leaders, Needle is able to speak her mind, if something like this did happen, she would be able to put him in his place and tell him to move on, similar to how she did in BFB with Firey and Leafys arguing, and same with Gaty! However, most of her interactions with him are negative, but arguably, most of them do have to do with BFDIA, she would be seeing this from an outside view and possibly confront Coiny about his attachment to that previous season (though narratively, Needle would be a better pick for that role considering their past, Gaty would be better to further the conflict and cause him to realize that there is an issue). There could be a rift between the characters in the team, similar to Bleh, but not as unattached from reality that book caused her team to be. The conflict could affect the teams overall performance, especially with so many characters who fit the leader role, it would cause no single direction that challenges go, many of the duos/groups splitting off to do their own thing. There's many ideas and directions, and nobody cooperating. Once Gaty, who was on a team with conflict previously, and possibly Donut, someone who is able to keep his team together, they realize they cannot function as a team if this keeps on going. They'd be the characters to cause the other characters to resolve the conflict and ultimately have the arc come to a close.... and this is just a single idea! The team overall has so much potential and wasn't used despite there being so much going on for all the characters! They aren't a team that did nothing, but a team that was forgotten about.

[lanternlightss]

dewdrop leaves

> this was written for day 3: immortality/corruption! and of course i could not pass up the opportunity to write a corrupted venti, and bard’s reaction to it <3

Though Venti does not necessarily feel the sensations such as “warmth” or “cold,” the sheer thickness of Dragonspine’s chill tries its hardest to threaten that motion. It clings to him, weaving around and through the fabrics of his clothing, wrapping his limbs. Frost dapples at the tip of his nose, extending to his cheeks. It coats his clothing, too, the material starting to crinkle, turn firmer, and rigid.

(During his flight to here, his hat had been tossed off, and his cape’s bow had been torn unevenly….. how he quite liked those….)

When he lands, sprawled out onto all fours, sinking into the snow and feeling how it gives in, the beginnings of ice fall from him in clumps, sloughing. He extends his wings, fluttering them, and watches as even more are flicked off from the action.

Going to stand, a sharp pain pulls at his chest, seeming to bounce off of the space where a rib-cage would be, before it spreads throughout the rest of him, pinpricks of blazing flares. He doubles over from it, his forehead and bangs pressing into sparkly white (his braids choosing to sprawl across them instead.)

Making the decision to fully lay his upper half onto the snow, and partly burrow there, wings folding to slide more onto his form, it—for a moment, upon the first touch—feels almost soothing. Rubs at the itchiness lying beneath this imitation flesh, one that strikes and tears and shrieks at him every passing minute that goes by. Each louder, more vicious, than the last.

Venti grimaces.

With a tremble, he pushes himself up, crawling forward to fresher snow—areas where he did not mess with. Raises his hand, watching as the deep blue (nearly a shade close to the night sky, dotted with small magentas) covering his fingers and palm reaches up, up, up, a little past his wrist, in splotches. Racing alongside the blue, is deep, fracturing golden lines and cracks, painted across in random strokes. He flexes his hand, wincing, and noting he has his talons, as well.

(There is a prickle on his back, too, where feathers begin to sprout, beneath the pair of wings he already has out.)

He huffs a breath and continues to stand, shaking off the snow when completely upright. Crouches slightly, one foot forward, stancing for a flight into the sky once more—for as much as he would like to, Venti cannot stay here, it is too close to Mondstadt still, and there is a concerning pressure building within him, one that he fears may blast away everything here.

Wings flap, he leans. Snow then scatters and sprays in various directions, from his take-off.

The corruption worsens as his journey continues—that accursed statue, but its situation was becoming harrowing—sending shocks so severe that it has his wings beating harshly to keep himself righted. Even more terribly is when the ruins of Old Mondstadt come into view, and the extra wings find this the perfect time to sprout in full, snapping out, and colliding against the ones above them.

That has him stumbling into one of the many strong currents dotted around; where he allows them to spin him in a lift, and he dips towards the ground when they let go, upon where he forces his wings to untangle, opening and catching wind. He twists, pivoting, aiming towards the ground, his surroundings a blur—and lands onto a patch in a cloud of dust. Once it has cleared, he remains in his position, sitting on his knees, hands pressed to the sides of them as he leans slightly forward.

(Belatedly, he realizes he has lost his cape, and shoes.)

Venti heaves. The pressure from before is unbearable now. The blue-gold has creeped up his arm, the splotches trailing off in fading dots when it reaches where his archon form’s gloves would end, and he presumes it is the same for his legs—though, he can feel a weight at the back of his head, half-formed, in what could only be a halo. Go and break him down to his more divine forms, why don’t they!!

Bubbling. Too much of it, his grasp on everything fraying, thinning, even as he scrambles in an attempt to keep it locked shut, fingers twisting and flailing—the threads of wind, patches of time, the weather, it slips, becoming fuzzy. A gratitude undercuts it, a vague thankfulness that the ruins have sunken enough to fit the wrath of a thrashing God, a vague thankfulness that Dvalin had been sent away beforehand, before it is overrun by the thoughts—what if this is not enough? Will they fall, to his hands, just as the tyrant had done to them? Will he lose what he has fought to protect, what he has set everything to prevail for?

He cannot lose anyone again—

His imitation heart splinters and spills, the corruption truly sinking in. His vision blurs around the edges, flashes of gold tracing them, his breaths coming out labored..

(He knew, when Dvalin had been corrupted by the Abyss, that he was hurting—if it was to this extent, he wishes he could have soothed away everything.)

Around him, the wind races, becoming erratic, kicking at any surface it can find, zipping across in uneven lines. He leans further, wings curling, and the distant sounds of this place are doused, muffled, becoming white noise—a consistent ringing, overlapping

Underneath his hands and legs, the ground shrivels. The wind grows harsher, rocks being scraped across, propelling into the air and torn asunder, the glowing crystals diminishing to mere crumbles of rock. Both the dirt and grass are dragged from the ground, plucked and ripped. The intensity continues to ramp, the noises becoming overwhelming, ringing in his ears pitching, finding that his hands have raised to grip at hair, that his wings seem to wrap around him completely as he—

As rapidly as it had seemed to start, it feels as though something grabs hold of him and yanks to a halt. Venti gasps, cut hair strands falling around him.

The winds stutter, and the ringing fades. He jerks up, hands still embedded into his hair, and finds that… the place he landed in was not so deserted. Their tree stands, swaying, waving hello.

And, that everything had truly come to a messy standstill; threads of teals dipped in a bleeding mixture of a blue-gold suspended in a whirling vortex, a few parts of the wreckage they had caused gently floating besides in its grasps. The threads are not all the same, some of them cutting in dotted lines as they zoom, some of them having their lines wavering to point it threatens dispersing, some of them are thoroughly solid, some of them are splitting into branches, teal twisting and curling, and—

And—

And…

Blue eyes blink, fluttering as if just awoken.

He rubs a hand at the right one, brows furrowing at his surroundings the more aware he becomes of them. Pure raven-black braids sway, as he swivels his head, and Venti notes with a whirlwind in his mind, that the locks have stray strands flicking out from not only the braids, but the bangs, and hair that frames the face. Windswept. The clothes, as well, are missing the tear in the bottoms of the shorts, the tops of his boots, and his right sleeve. If he were to turn, there would certainly be holes in his cloak, too.

But—if he does not have those, then how is he…?

A gale is thrown into the cliff, repeatedly, tearing apart the ground, as they respond to Venti’s dread.

His eyes widen, then narrow.

No, no, no, no, no. Stop looking at him like that.

Venti hunches into himself, talons clenching and shredding more strands of hair. The gale intensifies, lashing behind him, carving out chunks and causing the ground to rumble in its fury. He bares his teeth—wanting to shriek, to grab at his head and!!!!

Stop looking at him like that!

(Why wouldn't he?

A wind out of control? A wind that slices, destruction in every path? Why would he not back away from it?)

He tilts his head, starting to stand, and his expression shifts at Venti flinching away from his approach, the wind whipping to a higher degree with the flinch. He goes to take a step forward, the grass he steps upon having a simmering, bubbling line of a thread hovering there—and there is a quiet screeching as the threads are forced away, unraveling in spools and flinging out towards the cliffs; it has him jolting away from it, one step taken back, boots hitting the ground and kicking up dust.

His gaze snaps up to Venti’s.

(He has a fleeting thought, a moment where the minuscule inch of himself that the corruption has not touched speaks; that he should fix everything, that this mess has gotten severely out of hand, to fly off deeper into the ruins before he does something truly regretful.

But it is just that—fleeting.

Because at the attempt to follow through with the ideas laid out, the corruption rushes to overtake that last final inch, smothering and snuffing it out without regard. It halts Venti’s hands when he tries to wave them, refusing to let them budge the Bard in front of him, dark blue and gold chaining them to remain where they currently are. You do not truly want that, do you? It whispers, false care and comfort in its voice. You wish for him to stay, so here he will stay.)

That gaze of his shifts once more, briefly scrutinizing, then the ever so slightest of widened eyes, before reaching a blankness. It seems that something has clicked. He tries again, purposefully angling his path to the swirling threads, and Venti grits his teeth as he moves them away, hooking a finger round them and pulling, so that no interactions happen between them and him.

(And, how during this, he sees—for a moment—a glimmer of something magenta across his form.)

And blast it all—

Venti raises himself and situates his legs into a crouch, his wings flaring unraveling from around his form. And bounds.

He crosses the distance between the two of them in seconds. Nose mere centimeters away from his, Venti grits his teeth, watches as the other blinks owlishly at him, as if not expecting to be approached so suddenly, especially not like this, Venti poised in a manner similar to that of a cat pouncing still.

“Keep off from those,” he nearly growls, “Can you not see that they—”

Hands shoot out, to place themselves on his cheeks. Venti falters, words dying in his throat.

“What has happened to you?” He murmurs, gently tipping Venti’s head up, to the side, checking the dark-blue that has climbed up to his face, “Your teal… where has it gone? Have you always had gold?”

He swallows. A twitch goes throughout him, one that does not go unnoticed by him.

And, oh. That was what had clicked.

The words build, his tongue bubbling, bitterness and sweetness coating it. A name he has not said for centuries, a name he has kept clutched close to him, hidden in the palms of his hands, in the place where a heart would be beat.

Venti’s mouth opens, and croaks: “Cecil….?”

He pauses, meeting Venti’s eyes.

“Hello, little bird,” Cecil replies, softness in every feature of his. “Ah—I suppose you would be an angel now, hm? How much you have grown…”

The softness does not last long, his brows knitting as he thinks, a frown replacing that wondrous smile of his. His fingers trace the edges of the colors, outlining them, almost, a silent fury and puzzlement to the actions. “But, my friend—why are these… like veins? Why do you hurt? Did someone else do this to you?”

(I will hurt you, I will hurt you, you need to get away from me—)

“No one. This is my own doing, you see,” he says, offering a reassuring look, “I am not hurting at all.”

And—that is true, if partly. There is no stabbing prodding at him any more, attempting to wrench him towards the ground so he stays there. It aches most certainly, however, the wind underneath his skin thrumming as it races incessantly.

Cecil’s brows scrunch.

He steps forward to pull Venti closer, his right hand falling down to his waist, tracing a tear in his clothing, and… ah. Ah. He revokes everything he had said about snow and their so-called “soothing effects” beforehand, this is so much better than it, he curses them and nearly purrs at the feeling of his friend being a breath away from him, his touch curling into his bare skin so softly, lovingly.

Venti chases it.

All but lunging into him, Venti dives his head into Cecil’s chest, careful of the halo behind his hair—do not want to slam it against him. The rest of his body follows suit, his arms encircling around Cecil’s torso (with his hands carefully closed, knuckles pressing into the fabric of the green vest), knocking their legs together so that he can hook it around one of his dear’s, and his wings complete it all by flaring out to then snake around and envelop them both. Feathers brushing against skin and cloth with every other breath.

(The wind has gone still.)

“Oh,” Cecil gasps, startling at something, “you have six wings? I only saw four… have your limbs been multiplied, too??”

Does he? Venti thinks dazedly. It must have happened when the pain was ramping up, he could not distinguish it under all the other sensations attacking him. He had wondered how far the transformation would go—his most divine form has much more than four wings and a halo.

He does not give Cecil a response. Choosing to nuzzle into his clavicle instead, head going even fuzzier, thoughts narrowing to Safe safe safe, stay stay stay, love love love, here here here.

And—what an idea.

Cecil’s chest expands, as he inhales, exhales. It takes a moment, but he begins to reciprocate, an arm going around Venti’s back, between the middle wings and bottom ones. The other arm lifts to the space above Venti’s shoulders, near his nape, pulling him further into himself. He rubs at those places, in small, circle-like motions, and it has the God wholly melting in his arms.

“Is this alright?” He asks, “Is this helping?”

“Mmmmmhmmmm…..”

Gradually, the threads dissipate, dropping closer to the ground, and having the wreckages they carry collapse against the water around the tree, the dirt and rocks. Twist higher into the air at the end, then wobbling, and falling apart. He watches it all, a steady thrumming sounding in the air the longer he holds onto Venti. For one of them, he tests, to see; what would happen if he nuzzled into Venti’s cheek, patting at his back? The answer: it causes the threads to speed up, swooshing so swiftly, that he hardly has time to blink before the teal is fading.

Eyes wandering, they slide to—

Ah! Cannot have that, can we? Venti blocks his view with his right most top wing, fluttering the appendage to truly catch his attention, making his dear jolt in surprise. See, if Cecil is to stay by Venti’s side, then it should be away from here—the safest spot is the Tower, but he would not like that very much. Perhaps they should cross to the Dandelion Sea?

“Venti?”

“Hmm..?”

Cecil raises his hand up, to tap to the back of his head, his knuckles briefly brushing against the halo. He lets it stay there, for long enough that he can weave strands of hair around his fingers, to light tug at them—a non-serious scolding, for the blocking he did. They drop to rubbing circles on his nape after. “How are you feeling?”

Right, right—conversation happening.

He shuffles backwards, only a few inches, so that his dear is not forced to let go of his grasps—skin still tingling and fizzing with that loveliness. Tilts his head, then, to where Cecil gazes at him, a quiet concern and pure curiosity to his eyes, now.

Another wave of winds zip by them, these ones far lighter, livelier, and peppy than the others from earlier were—however, still the same mix of colors, if slightly more solid, slightly lukewarm in temperature. They swirl around them, teasing at hair and cloth, dancing in chiming sweeps and dives; that of which distracts Cecil for a moment, his hair blowing into his face, a muffled sound of a “wuh” escaping from him when it has strays loosing from the braids he wears. He shakes his head to rid of them, glaring halfheartedly.

A beaming grin tugs at him, at the sight. One that lifts the bottoms of his into soft crescents, slowly revealing how his teeth have grown sharper canines. His pupil—still a lovely teal, though, now captured around blue-gold—shines, constricting to a thin slit, as a glittering gleam dances across his gaze. He hums, unclenching his hands from fists to press the palms of them more firmly into Cecil, scraping the talons across his vest.

“Much better,” he says, a lilting, distorted pitch to it. Extends his right’s hand index finger, while he talks, to prod at his back—tracing a symbol there, one that causes Cecil to minutely shiver from it, unexpecting the action. “Thank you.”

And perhaps it is that, that has Cecil truly understand what has happened; that Venti is really not so much hurt as he is a far, far worse thing, that there is something gripping at him. Or perhaps it is the way he looks upon him, as though he were the sun, a gleeful, thrilled and eager gleam to his gaze. Or perhaps it is the way his wings gradually tighten around his form, not constricting him, yet he suddenly feels the reason they continue to be folded (and twitching, fluttering, so often) is not that Venti just wishes to hold him with everything he has.

Whichever it is, whether it be a combination of all of them, it has him widening his eyes, a near whisper of “Oh,” trailing into the winds. Winds that take the words greedily into their hands, rolling them over—winds that tell him murmurs, almost frantically, a gentle urging in the way the threads crowd further around them both, hushed jingling of bells accompanying it: stay, stay, stay, stay?

Oh.

[kwyoz]

the fact mostly everybody is upset with the style of the new trailer and im just like YIPPEE

[stardustdiiving]

I notice Nahida is portrayed as frustrated or scolding of other characters (usually Wanderer) in fanon often but to be honest I don’t think Nahida really has that much of a temper where she defaults to that sort of thing very much….She can be angry and firm as needed but I really don’t think that’s her first instinct on how to assert herself in a lot of cases.

She instead really strikes me as someone who primarily gets upset when it’s on behalf of other people or someone embodying ideas she finds very devoid of care and compassion for others….but struggles to really be angry on her own behalf. Like, it’s pointed out it’s only until she’s actively being rescued that she finally says she’s angry at the Sages, and while she is openly angry then we see later everyone comments on how they seem to have gotten off days, which I touched on in this post and feel u can infer from that this idea Nahida struggles to be harsh even towards to the people who kept her in a cage for 500 years—which makes when u see how much she rationalizes being treated like this earlier on. She ultimately seems more concerned with the Sages mistreatment of her people vs their mistreatment of Nahida herself.

This feels consistent to why she seems pretty visibly disgusted with Dottore when they have their negotiation. Dottore is more or less an antithesis to everything she believes about wisdom and embodies a lot of malice and cruelty that Nahida would be really disturbed by. I personally like to write her lack of a temper in some areas as something that seems almost troubling — bc on one hand she’s very forgiving and kind despite through being a lot, but on the other this seems like it might be rooted in just genuinely not allowing herself to be angry to protect herself. But yeah overall I think unless you’re really causing an issue Nahida is more likely to give you a kind of frazzled sad puppy look and very politely ask you to be better as opposed to hitting you with a sandal or scolding you for it

In the case of her relationship with Wanderer specifically I’ve like, talked about how I feel people overlook the fact Wanderer makes a genuine effort to cooperate with Nahida and doesn’t really fight with her much…so i don’t think they’re often bickering with each other to the point Nahida has to get really firm with him. She seems to have a pretty interesting amount of patience with him especially post AQ, which again I think is helped by the fact Wanderer is genuinely trying to cooperate and she sees that. We do see her ask Traveler + Scaramouche to stop bickering in Inversion of Genesis but she is in my opinion very polite and at most a bit awkward about it, not scolding or irritated

[halfusek]

oopsie

so the stream was a flop (ill need to solve that problem in the future but that was very weird cuz these settings worked with batdr before and i doubt batdr was easier to stream performance wise) but yall didnt miss out on anything cuz uh

basically in 15 minutes i was done with the part of the. "game". that was. actually kind of looking like one. you know i didn't expect any polish to this, it was free and all. that was the part with gaskette, it was. fine. i did not find it interesting but at least it wasnt what the rest of the game was

but you know what, i get it. finally i get it

they, or maybe just mike, but its released under their company so i will say they,

they hate theorists

they hate dataminers

alright, point taken, i guess

just push away the fans who were the most interested in playing your games, cuz that's smart

it's sad really but oh well have it your way

[skitskatdacat63]

"P5 tastes really good."

[redwhitebuddie]

looks like tommy is coming back for season 8

[katyspersonal]

If you can't handle me at my Willem x Rom you don't deserve me at my Yurie x Rom. 😔

[evilhorse936]

Literally me

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s3 episode 22 thoughts

this episode was SO good. it was funny, it was heartfelt, and it was entertaining. but- and i'm sure you fans who have seen the show before know- something happened that is making me cry.

yes, actual tears! boy, there must be some real serious astrology stuff going on in the world, for actual tears are down my cheeks, something that almost never happens to me in movie and film watching experiences, and this episode did it to me. i usually just get a bit misty and that's the extent of it- even in one breath! but man. apparently i have a weakness.

sigh. we shall get into it, like we do.

reading the episode description: it's loch ness monster-like creature time!! i’ve been eyeballing this episode for a while, it sounds really interesting. a lake trip!! a trip to the lake!! 

we begin, and it is frog time!!! time for a frog!!! an endangered frog!!! dr. farraday is fighting for their rights. oh, he just used the term “frog holocaust” in his talk to this dr. bailey fellow, which is something. serious frog beef going down between these professors, for dr. bailey does not think that dr. farraday's research proves that humans are responsible for the fate of the frogs! how infuriating.

dr. bailey is going back to his car but lost “his beeper” so he’s looking by the lake for it. OH! his beeper meant a pager. i know what a pager is!!!! do not think i am uneducated!!! just never heard it called as such.

he finds the beeper but he is EATEN. by a BEAST!!! while a frog watches. 

if only this was the fate that all people who deny the need to protect the environment met! eaten by a lake beast! how much more just this planet would be...

intro time. and the first time i watched an episode and i heard the theme i started laughing hysterically because i didn’t realize that noise was the x files theme; i had just thought it was a well-known spooky noise used in vines and stuff and then. everything clicked into place. and it was soooo funny. anyway.

road trip to georgia!!!! WITH THE DOGGY!!! mulder calls it “a thing” SO RUDE????

“you wake me up on a saturday morning, tell me to be ready in five minutes, my mother is out of town, all of the dog-sitters are booked, and you know how i feel about kennels” <- help i’m CRYINGGGGG tell him how you feel!!!!

(love that they have already had a conversation on the morality of kennels before)

((but also truly what did he expect 😭😭 and he did all this on a SATURDAY!!!! she ought to have been way meaner!!!))

so he made her leave town with the puppy on a SATURDAY for a missing person’s case… omg do they even get paid overtime???

also mulder is lost which is soooo funny because WHY is he perpetually behind the wheel... he doesn’t have any sense of direction!!!

he makes a stupid pun about the killer being “large” and she straight up asks what he’s leaving out LMAOOO

(he points to a billboard advertising “big blue, the southern serpent) <- “oh, tell me you’re not serious” LMAOOOO

so they’re going to talk to dr. farraday and i think it’s so cute that scully is in some more casual-y clothes. anyway, they’re going over the serious frog beef between him and the victim. farraday does NOT miss dr. bailey’s loser ass... ijbol!!! why should he give a damn for one man when so many species are going extinct!

farraday said “has anyone ever told you two you have a great problem coming to the point?” after mulder asks if any native species attacked humans... lmao he is rude as hell!!!

AND ASKING ABOUT BIG BLUE MADE THINGS WORSE!!! now farraday is going on about how if anything requires real thinking people turn to UFOs and whatnot which is like.... um okay rest assured that if someone is gonna think it’s gonna be mulder. he's gonna think about any and all explanations on a sliding scale of plausibility.

LMAO mulder is being sassy right back while scully screams with her eyes. farraday gets even more pissed and leaves… honestly i’m sorry about the frog population king, but you’re not really winning any friends with influence to help you lobby on behalf of the frogs. or winning any friends at all. 

so mulder and scully and the doggy go to a bait and tackle shop, and the sight of them sharing an umbrella with a dog on a leash healed something in me, something i didn’t know was in need of healing but it was. and they’re reciting the different creatures that live in lakes- apparently scully read about cryptids as a kid!!!! 

she says they’re folk tales and he says “well, how many folktales do you know that can eat a boy scout leader and a biologist?” and she looks soooo annoyed. but then they go in, and he is a proper gentleman and shakes off the umbrella 

at the shop they see a “scale from big blue” and scully says it looks like “a carapace, something from a beetle” which again reminds us that she WAS studying bugs in bio, thank you very much!!

they’re chatting with the dude that sold mulder a map, and he’s talking about his own experience with the creature while wearing a hat that says “show us your bobbers” which is crazy, but we keep going. he claims he heard a cow get eaten by big blue as a kid. and in walks an alleged expert, ansel… whose daddy’s cow was eaten way back then!

ansel is buying more film to someday achieve his dream of catching a picture of the beast and scully looks deeply pained in the background lmaoooo i love her 

someone is putting a worm on a hook in order to fish on the lake. a big one bites!!! a real big one. OH! it’s actually a human body. the fisherman goes and gets the dude from the tackle shop and by proxy our agents.

OH! there is only half a body. they’re bickering on what could have eaten half of a human body while hiding together under an umbrella, and it’s really cute but where is the dog?

the tackle shop man is out in the swampy part near the lake wearing dino-shaped boots to try and make some convincing tracks LMAO. king of the hustle. but something approached him as he gets stuck in the mud!!!! and he is dragged into the dark lake with only a dino boot left behind!

apparently his name was ted. rip ted and your bobber hat and funny boots.

mulder seems to believe that the tracks are legit and tells scully and the dog to watch where they’re walking as to not disturb them (and the dog is named queequeg i’m gonna CRY!!!) 

the sheriff is OFFENDED by mulder’s suggestion to close the lake, because clearly this is just a bunch of drunk people falling overboard!! and then getting run over!! well if that happens as frequently as you seem to think it does, we need to do something regardless of if any beasts are involved.

scully is not buying that the tracks are from a real creature because they did not leave very deep impressions. but the dog yanks her away!!! he’s off investigating the dino boot! the prints may be a hoax, but the blood on the shoe is very real!

cut to some stoners on the lake talking about hallucinogenic toads. he holds a local frog and licks it. but someone interrupts his toad licking session coming back to the surface from a scuba dive?

oh no!! scuba dude is pulled by some sort of creature!!! and his head is removed from his body. well that is not good.

time to locate the head. both of our agents are in fun little jackets, and still bickering over what went down.

ansel the big blue photographer is serenading his camera, preparing for the perfect shot, which he has set up by filling an inner tube with meat. something bubbles beneath it. BUT NO!! it skips the meat on the tube and goes right for him!!!!! he snaps a picture as it gets him!! three attacks in one day!!!!

mulder asks the sheriff again to CLOSE DOWN THE LAKE and he again refuses. scully says it’s inconclusive still, which is echoing the dr. bailey saying about the fate of the frogs being inconclusive!

the sheriff falls in, and out there he brushes into something big. he immediately proclaims that the lake shall be closed down, calls state police, AND wildlife fish and game. well okay that gets results i guess.

they’re examining the photos from ansel, and mulder things that this blurry thing COULD be a tooth. it is very funny.

AWWW the dog needs to go for a walk, and mulder offers to go with her :,) she lifts up her jacket to show her gun, says she’ll be fine, and smiles. STOP I LOVE THEM SO MUCH?????

why is this episode making me emotional with their little lake visit. also something bad is definitely going to happen now. she says goodnight :,)

aww the dog is MAD and she’s talking to him in that kind of voice you reserve for a little creature... but he wants to go into the woods!!

no!!! he runs too fast!!! NO!!!!! WHERE DID HE GO???? HE ISN’T ON THE LEASH????

NO. I CAN’T BEAR TO WATCH SCULLY LOSE HER DOG…. 

oh my gosh, she is sitting in the chair, holding his collar in grief…. she is literally spaced out into another dimension mourning her little friend and mulder is rambling about the lake…. i want to slap him… NOOOO. she asks him to repeat himself because she was so out of it…

(if this doesn’t end with a dog reunion i will drop this dumbass show. BET.)

mulder asks if she can drive a boat. psh can she drive a boat? it’s natural to her bloodline.

she is piloting the boat and he’s telling her where to go, and she’s braver than me because if i lost my dog at this moment i think i would need two weeks to begin to even SORT of get a grasp on reality. 

“i know the difference between expectation and hope. seek and ye shall find, scully” <- this is a genuinely fantastic line said by mulder, but i’m still in dog mourning so we can go analyze that later 

map facts with scully :)

until the monster comes STRAIGHT AT THEM!! i like how she kept asking “what is that, mulder?” because it reminded me of when she kept asking mulder to get the bugs off of her in darkness falls… like the blind hope/faith/desperation that he would hold the answers and have a solution… ohhhgghh

big crash into the boat!!! it is leaking and she picks up the radio and calls a distress signal (another natural feature to a scully) but the boat is FILLING with water!!

mulder gets some life jackets for them and they barely get them on in time as the boat sinks. whew! a conveniently placed rock for them to perch upon is nearby!!!

but there goes the $500 deposit :( 

mulder says to swim and she is GAGGED “in which direction?!” lmaoooo

mulder is unsettled by how dark it is, because you forget these things in a city… and scully says you forget a lot of things in a city; her father taught her to respect nature, because it has no respect for you. or your dog, i guess :(

they both pull out their guns as they hear splashing!!!! mulder whispers that it was big blue, but scully asks “so what if it was?” <- NOOO you took her dog and her deposit, you’ve broken her spirit!!!

mulder says he wants to know because it could revolutionize science, and so many of the things they chase are intangible, but it’s a creature within the confines of a lake, it should be right HERE- and she isn't buying it for a second

she says she saw HIS FUTURE in ansel’s photographs, a man listening only to himself and seeing nonsense; she can’t figure out his motives, and things are approaching angst levels on this rock in the middle of nowhere, but SOMETHING APPROACHES!!!!

it’s a duck. okay so it could be worse!!! he says he’s still tempted to fire and she slams into him LMAOOO 

sleepover on the rock. “hey scully, do you think you could ever cannibalize someone?” <- LDHDMDNSMDNSBBDNSND I’M GENUINELY YELLING LMAOOOOOOO HOLD ON. hold on i need a minute to handle all that. (she gives a thoughtful and scientific response) <- that’s Them. that is their dynamic right there.

“you’ve lost some weight recently, haven’t you?” “yeah i have, thanks for-“ (glare of realization) LMAOOOOOOOO WHAT EVEN IS THIS EPISODE

“poor queequeg” she says, and i’m gonna CRY. but mulder has a better response now to her grief instead of just babbling on about the lake, asks why she chose that name. she shares that was the name of the harpoonist in moby dick, which her father used to read to her from.

and as she says this, she realizes how much mulder is like ahab, “so consumed by your personal vengeance against life, whether it be it’s inherent cruelties or it’s mysteries, that everything takes on a warped significance to fit your megalomaniacal cosmology” <- the words of a girl who was REALLY into a book as a kid and is also experiencing near-death levels of hypothermia and grief

LMAOOOOO HIS RESPONSE IS “scully, are you coming onto me?” yes. now kiss on the rock.

and she keeps going, talking about how his search for the Truth will take down everything he loves, just as it did for Ahab.

OH! he starts talking about how he always wished for a peg leg, even as a kid, and it first it seems like another of his many jokes but he says it’s because maybe then it’s enough to Persist despite the difficulty; without, “you’re actually expected to make something of your life- achieve something, earn a raise, wear a necktie” so perhaps he is the ANTITHESIS of ahab, for with a peg leg he may be more pleased! 

woah. that got deep. i’ll be gnawing on that one for a bit.

THEY BOTH QUOTE A LINE FROM THE BOOK AT THE SAME TIME... STOP I’M GONNA SOB?????

but a splashing approaches… and they draw their guns…. CUT TO A COMMERCIAL BREAK!!!!

it’s dr. farraday??? he says he hopes he’s not INTERRUPTING anything!!! wait so was the shore right there the whole time LMAOOO (silent walk of shame to the shore) BAHAHA

so what is this dude doing out here?? obviously it’s frog science! he’s been breeding the frogs to get their numbers back up. 

mulder is thinking…. if there are fewer frogs for a dinosaur to eat… it would have no choice but to turn to different food sources! (cutscene to serious arguing between mulder and dr. farraday whilst scully watches)

sheriff rolls up!!! another person had their arm bit off, and so he has thirty boats searching that area. but mulder says we have to search THIS cove, where the frogs have been going missing!! he blatantly refuses.

what if it was her little dog that bit the dude’s arm off…

scully politely asks for him to send a few men over and immediately gets results LMAOOO he quietly mumbles “thanks”

but a distant scream is heard!!! it’s dr. farraday!!! they run and find him!! something grabbed his leg and was shaking it. his leg is messed up really bad so scully is tying a tourniquet, and mulder’s running off after the mystery creature…. no self preservation instincts….

so he’s off with a gun and a flashlight chasing the human eating beast…. only to find some frogs. but something is approaching him?? quickly!!! and he’s firing his gun!!!

into a GATOR??? not a fancy lake beast!!

he’s staring out into the water… claiming to be fine. but he said he wanted the monster to be real, that he saw hope in such a possibility. she says there is still hope, that people want to believe, which is why the stories have endured for so long. 

GASP! the minute they leave, we see a big sea beast…

i’m literally so torn because i was CONVINCED the dog was going to come back 😭😭😭 and this episode was so good but WHY did they have to throw that in there… like i can’t even make an objective analysis of how this went because i’m so sad. WHY WOULD THEY DO THAT?!?!

“oh juni there have been lots of human people that die in this series” which i mourned for too! but. i have felt the pain of losing a beloved and innocent creature and i do not wish for it to return and being reminded of its inevitably is not something i wish upon anyone MUCH less dana scully, who has already suffered in mythological levels.

really though, the episode was good. it was genuinely fantastic. it just clearly hit a bit of a nerve with me so i'm not going to do a thoughtful wrap up in the manner i like to think i usually do. but here are the things i liked, beyond the whole aesthetic and mood: bickering, umbrella sharing, scully at the helm, joint quoting of moby dick, deep introspection in the form of projecting onto book characters, cannibalism debates, outlandish creature as a monster of the week, rock sleepover, and fighting over frogs

[townofcrosshollow]

Hi, this is *not* an emergency but my little baby Thursday has a nasty lesion on the side of her neck of unknown origin (the vet thinks it's related to her allergies) and I've had to pay out my ass for vet bills and meds for her so if you love this little girlie and would like her to not continue being covered in blood consider throwing a coin to your game dev-who-is-currently-too-mentally ill-to-develop-games 🥲

Well wishes are also very welcome and will be forwarded to her in between me begging her not to scratch it because we haven't got the collar to stop her scratching it yet

(More pics under the cut because she is very cute but very ghastly at the moment)

Observe: she turns on her side and exposes her neck to turn my relaxing bath into a much less relaxing bath