#nothing I can add to this

[stil-lindigo]

to your dead slug anon: i work at a university as a professors assistant. if you miss a day or two of classes in solidarity that will not fuck up you degree. as someone who has missed many days of class for less important reasons you will be fine. asking for notes doesn’t undermine anything (the point is to temporarily withdraw from business as usual and non attendance accomplishes that). idk about your specific university but in general many professors stand with palestine. many professors are happy to get any interaction from students at all and you showing interest in staying on top of your work while using your voice will reflect well on you.

2. (respectfully) please get some fucking perspective (this applies to everyone)! not everyone has a perfect and safe life however you are not being bombed. your family is safe from a random attack by a foreign entity. (assuming american) you are not facing occupation. your neighborhood is standing. you can go to your favorite restaurant. there are sterile and functional medical centers. there is food. there is water. you are going to university and getting a degree. all students in palestine studies have been put on pause or completely ended for those who have been martyred. their universities destroyed or severely damaged. their work all lost besides what is in their brains. palestinian intellectuals and writers targeted for the power and voices they hold. being a little uncomfortable will be ok. having to do a little extra make-up work or reading on your own will be ok and temporary! do not let feelings of nervousness about your comfort and your life stop your participation in something that is bigger than all of us on an individual scale. this is bigger than you. it will be ok to decenter your work and studies for one week.

we need to get willing to get uncomfortable and do things that may seem hard if we want the world to change period.

.

[forgettable-au]

PROLOGUE

FORGETTABLE-AU (Page 1-9)

AND SO IT BEGINS!

I don't think I can fit all 20 pages of the prologue in just one post, so I'm dividing it into 4 posts! This one's the longest...

[CONTINUE]

[lass-us-slay]

So I read a prompt about how Wonder Woman found Danny in a trash can (don’t remember which one) and I was bored.

So I took that lil info and made it into an AU.

So basically, Danny get yeeted into this unknown universe and has no where to live. And no where to live means no money. No money means no food. No food means Danny can’t keep his human half sustained.

So what does he do?

Decides to not change into a human and live in a trash can.

Yes you heard that right, live in a trash can.

Because he’s a ghost, he doesn’t have to worry about the germs and stuff. But that doesn’t mean he lives in just any trash can! He lives in a clean one ☝️

AND he also decorated it with his name so other people know it’s his!

And so Danny has been here for a while now and realizes

Holy shit there’s hero’s here- you know what, why doesn’t he have hero’s back home?!

And being minorly annoyed jealous (but he’s never admitting that)he thought:

Well since there’s hero’s here already, guess I’m not needed.

.

.

.

Good. I’m tired af

And so Danny caries on his life, being content with his trash can and scaring whoever comes into his alley. It’s fun. Sure he sometimes needs to ugh overshadow people to feed his human side, but other than that.

It’s going great.

But Danny doesn’t realize that with Amity gone (or smth, you choose) which was his haunt, he slowly makes the trash can into his new haunt.

And slowly but surely, Danny’s beloved haunt trash can starts to become other worldly kinda.

Yk because of the ectoplasm.

So now Danny’s lovely trash can haunt has more space inside and- Hey Danny can actually sleep in it better!! And he got some company too!

In the form of blob ghosts.

Two actually.

They keep his trash can clean and help purifying some corrupted ectoplasm that he finds. Because for some reason this universe’s ectoplasm seems half way artificial and tastes a bit weird. Which is where the blob ghosts help out in.

Everything was great.

Danny was loving the trash can life style.

He has two blob ghosts friends. Which he named Sam and Tucker, and yea they couldn’t talk but that was fine.

He wasn’t lonely, he wasn’t. He had two very much talking friends like Sam and Tucker.

However one day two weirdly dressed people- oh they were hero’s.

Well anyway they found him, one woman stripper and one furry guy.

But it was on accident! He was just peaking out of his beloved haunt trash can, and they spotted him.

He stared, they stared back.

Then the woman stripper asked him questions, even when he said:

“Don’t mind me, have a nice day!”

But they just kept bother him and giving him weird looks and glances.

Which- rude.

Didn’t they see his mark on his haunt trash can? Obviously it means it’s his home, so they shouldn’t be bothering him still. He’s safe as can be.

Plus.

It’s not like he’s looking at them in suspicion and weirdness, I mean look at them! What kinda cheep knock off vampire fury mix and American stripper style clothing are those!

They should mind their own business!

———

Just a silly lil drawing of this lmao, don’t mind me.

[soosoosoup]

Chord Striker Au by @thatbennybee

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Lan Wangji goes to Lotus Pier (No relation to the AU of the same name)

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[heartorbit]

mira monday is upon us

[bigfatbreak]

Birds of a Feather previous / next tw: anxiety attack

[vynnyal]

OK, fair warning to the few people I actually managed to convince to try the game??

Rain world does NOT play like hollow knight, and you'll get your butt kicked if you approach it like that.

It's really hard. Like, really hard. Instead of the game literally giving you abilities in the form of power-ups and damage buffs, the only abilities you gain is from what you learn and your own ingenuity. You're a rat from beginning to end. If you just beef your way through it, it's gonna suck and you're gonna be confused and frustrated all the time. But if you pay attention, take it slow, and learn how the ai works and how everything interacts with each other, you can consistently get through and dominate situations you thought were impossible to do so when you first began. Now get out there, kill some lizards, and bully some old computers!

[caffeiiine]

kunikidas ideals have the potential to be self destructive and kunikida can be considered passively suicidal, he is also not the polite and respectful man fanon makes him out to be- *gets shot*

[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

new comic is taking me awhile since i have to actually draw now, have a heisenberg while u wait

[soracities]

I have been thirty for a few months. I never thought I'd make it, truly. I had no plans beyond twenty. I'm a high school drop out with various disabilities, I'm not conventionally 'attractive', I've never had many friends and my support network has failed me several times. And the idea of making plans, after a trail of failures and let-downs (both of myself and others), only filled me with dread. I have to take care of so much. I have my blessings, of course, but not without my own troubles. I have never been on a date, I've never been kissed even though I do want that. I've had to make the decision between bills and feeding myself. I've watched everyone around me fade away or leave. This, however, will pass. This time, in ten years, I'll have been forty for a few months. In twenty, I'll be fifty. And I can see myself being those ages. This year, I planted flowers for the first time and I've watched them grow. I've started reading after years of being told I am too stupid to understand things or that having joys won't make me successful. I've made new friends. I even repaired the strained relationship with my parents, something I never thought I'd be able to do. My life isn't going to be plastered on a big screen or be a bestseller but I don't need it to be. If I never marry or I die alone with no one, I don't think I'll regret it because I'll have myself. My thirties, I realize, are my gift to myself to know love and be loved by myself. Like I ... was the one who grew those flowers that made me happy because I know flowers make me happy, I chose to read the books I love because I know that they will make me happy, I choose to find my little joys instead of the joys others have expected of me. I'll get myself to forty, fifty, maybe even a hundred! I'll continue to give myself little joys because right now that is what is making me happy. That may change at forty! At fifty, a hundred, I don't know! I believe, however, I would like to find out ... and that is something I never would have said at twenty. I don't know if I will make it because as my farmer of a grandfather would say, "You have no idea what a year will bring." And you don't, there is no way to predict what the year, the month, or even tomorrow will bring, but you plant the seeds anyway. You plant them and take care of them as though you know they get to full ripeness and harvest. That process, I've learned for myself, is how I've found love. I just plant the seed today. I may or may not have flowers tomorrow but knowing that I may is enough for me to want to see.

.

[stormofdefiance]

True knowledge exists in knowing you know nothing || Dr. Ratio & Socrates

Okay, I legitimately laughed out loud writing that title, but listen. LISTEN.

Ratio's inspirations derive from many sources; from referencing Archimedes's brain-blast in the tub, to being doomed to have his head bonked by Newton's apple ad infinitum in his idle animation, to his ultimate line ('esse est percipi' / 'to be is to be perceived') a direct quote from Berkeley on Idealism - it's apparent that his design nods towards scholars across time periods rather than being a direct parallel to a singular academic.

Nevertheless, just for fun, I've been rotating Ratio and ancient greek philosophers around in my head and have had a great time chewing over how parallels Socrates in particular. I am in no way saying that Hoyo even thought about Socrates while they were designing Ratio, but I thought I'd share my thoughts. I think there are some worthwhile parallels to be drawn that touch on all aspects of Ratio's own philosophy regarding ignorance, the value of knowledge, and his deep appreciation of life. So, let's get into it.

Ratio is interested in humanity and curing 'ill minds with knowledge', that 'to turn a blind eye to the folly of others is not an etiquette, but a wicked worldly practice.' Ignorance is a disease - this is a concept that can be viewed through a Socratic lens. Socrates believed that that virtue and knowledge were impossible to separate from one another, and that virtue could be developed through acquiring knowledge and insight. If knowledge is virtue, then ignorance is vice. In Socrates's mind, no one would rationally choose to do something bad. People might choose to do bad things, but this is rooted in their own perception of the world - as in, someone would only choose to do something bad (for the world, or for themselves) because they believed (erroneously) that it was the right or good thing to do. To Socrates, the cure to this was knowledge: 'There are two kinds of disease of the soul, vice and ignorance.' & 'What does most harm in the world is not sinfulness but ignorance'.

To Ratio, 'If ignorance is an ailment, it is the duty of the scholars to weed it out and heal the universe'. He views his own ignorance as 'filth' that must be cleansed through methods such as reading. He also views knowledge as a method for humans to overcome their problems - 'Another day has passed. If your problem still hasn't been solved, is it possible the problem is you?' & 'You look distressed. Is something troubling you? if so, you can figure it out for yourself.' These statements sound harsh, but they also clue us into Ratio's philosophy - that through self-examination and improvement, one can overcome one's ailments.

Socrates was also known for being a trouble-maker, he was abrupt and tactless and did not care for someone's social standing nor decorum. He was also known for using what is now called the Socratic method, asking a series of questions that ultimately seek to show contradictions in the beliefs of those who posed them, and to move systematically towards a hypothesis free from contradiction. Socrates rarely made assertions himself - after all, he had no wisdom of his own. But he could interrogate others in order to expose their own foibles, much to the embarrassment and annoyance of those around him. He was once described as a 'gnat' chewing on the 'lazy horse of Athens', causing it to wake up and spring to life due to his persistent gnawing and prodding. Ratio also employs the Socratic method - 'I'm asking questions' - and also adopts sophist tactics such as playing devil's advocate and taking opposing sides (with both himself as seen a story quest, and with others as we see with his texts urging us to take up a side so he might debate us). Through questioning and interrogation, upsetting what we consider social convention and norms, we can dispel contradictions and thereby come closer to some form of truth.

To add to this - as highlighted in the replies below - Ratio’s skill ‘intellectual midwifery’ is a reference to the Socratic method. The idea being that Socrates helped those around him give birth to the knowledge that was already within them, rather than treating his students minds as empty vessels for him to fill with his own answers. Again this is beautifully echoed in Ratio - he doesn’t want to tell you how to live your life, he wants you to work out for yourself what it is you need, thus empowering oneself through self-examination and questioning.

Socrates did not believe in writing anything down. He believed that face-to-face communication was a far more effective way of communicating knowledge - which means, unfortunately, what we know of Socrates is primarily derived from secondary sources. Much of what we know about him today comes from Plato's dialogues, and Plato was known for liberally exercising artistic license.

Although Ratio is not dead, I find it interesting that his character story is told exclusively through secondary sources. To quote - '…There are no less than eight documentaries detailing his legendary exploits, and over a dozen memoirs about him. However, despite the plethora of commentaries, none of them seems to provide a compelling perspective.' It's as though there are no surviving fragments penned by Ratio's hand and all we have to go on is through the lenses of other people. This challenges us, perhaps, to try to think about our own interpretation of Ratio since secondary sources cannot be taken as a wholly unbiased account - and once again employing the Socratic method and empowering the reader to come to their own interpretation.

While Socrates left no writing behind, he was interested in spreading knowledge. Socrates spent most of his life in Athens, a city that was, during his lifetime (~470-399 BC), a hotpot of scholars, wisemen and philosophers. Athena, the Greek god of wisdom, was named after the city - her symbol the owl that is also appropriately perched on Ratio’s shoulder. Also in Athens at this time where the sophists. The sophists were a class of intellectuals who were known to teach courses in various subjects - but often for a high fee, and generally centred around the idea that persuasion and the use of knowledge as a tool was more important than wisdom or truth itself. There's some debate about whether Socrates could be characterised as a sophist himself, but, crucially, he is characterised as refusing to take payment for his teachings. He was born a plebeian (perhaps you might describe it as a mundane background.) He was known to dress in rags and go barefoot, speaking to and (often antagonising) people from all walks of life, preferring the marketplace as a center of debate than palaces or courtrooms. I can't help but think of the sophists as similar to the genius society (or at least Ratio's depiction of them in contrast to himself), cooped up in ivory towers and gatekeeping knowledge to the most privileged. He doubts if Herta's talent is always helpful to others, he compares Screwllum to a 'monarch'. Then again, the sophists may in fact be a bit of a parallel to the Intelligentsia Guild - from Ratio, 'when someone is willing to listen to knowledge that is being disseminated and circulated, a price is created'.

Socrates (or at least the Platonic depiction of Socrates) was at one time declared the wisest man in Athens by the Oracle of Delphi. Socrates balks at this assertion - how can he possibly be the wisest man in Athens when he in fact knows nothing at all? This was not a claim made of modesty - he truly believed that he had no wisdom, that he was unsure what 'wisdom' itself even was. Ultimately, Socrates concludes that the only way that the Oracle could be correct is that by actually acknowledging that he knows nothing he paradoxically is the wisest man in Athens. All wisdom, therefore, is rooted in wondering, with wondering only possible if one is open to admitting one's own ignorance.

What I love about all of this in relation to Ratio is that Ratio styles himself as a mundanite. The Intelligensia Guild advocates that 'all knowledge must be circulated like currency' and accepts 'all beings… who seek to learn'. Ratio has no time for the satisfied self-styling of intellectualism, he himself states that 'to speak knowledge, we must first make people realise their own folly.' No one is above criticism in this regard, even himself - again, to quote 'Whenever someone agrees with me, I feel like I must be wrong.' Again, I feel as though he would resonate with Socrates here: 'Smart people learn from everything and everyone, average people from their experiences, and stupid people already have all the answers'. With Aventurine, he is quick to mock his appearance as over-the-top and vapid - once again making it clear his distate for vanity and hollow displays of showiness (albeit he may have been acting for Sunday's sake here. Also, no comment about this coming from a man who runs around in a toga, lmao) Equally, with Aventurine, it is clear that Ratio is willing to learn from him - he apologises when he offends, he abhors his methodology and yet he still relies upon it and trusts in Aventurine's plan, he is drawn to him in some ways precisely because he is so different to himself. Aventurine (at least styles himself) as impulsive to Ratio's slow and steady methodology, Aventurine whose learning has been entirely self-made vs Ratio who has spent his life in classrooms, Ratio who scoffs at Aventurine's favourite games of chance yet adds slot machines to his simulated universe. And to Socrates, the experience of aporia – in all of its discomfort and disruption – is the very catalyst of wonder, and that wonder was not just the root of wisdom but also the way to live a good and happy life. There is something beautiful in this to me, and this extends to Ratio. Ratio fundamentally cares about life. For all his brashness, his lashing out against 'idiots', his harsh demeanour - he wants people to live good lives, he wants to contribute to the good of humanity - all people, even those he is annoyed by, he cares so profoundly and absolutely about life. The entire reason why he is obsessed with wisdom and learning is not to exalt or elevate himself, not as some kind of ritualistic expression of piety towards a deity, but it is instead an expression of devotion towards life itself. Ratio has a strict work out routine not so that he can show off his body, but because living healthily is living well and working out is a component of that. Even the way he fusses and worries about Aventurine, someone he is pointedly irritated by, reveals how deeply his care runs. So so much of his character is centered on caring for life, even if it is not immediately obvious.

Finally, I'd like to highlight some ways in which Ratio is not like Socrates. First of all, Socrates was repeatedly described as 'ugly' by fellow philosophers Plato and Xenophon - this is contrast to Ratio being repeatedly described as 'handsome'. This is an interesting subversion to me (albeit likely an indulgent one) as in both cases both men attempt to distance their physical appearance from the weight of their words. Ratio wears the bust for many reasons, but way to view it is that he is attempting to stop his appearance from bearing any influence in the subject of debate.

Socrates was also said to be blessed by a divine touch, and as we know, this is something that agonises Ratio as Nous has not yet turned THEIR gaze towards him.

Lastly, Ratio has - thankfully - not yet been ordered by the state to drink hemlock for all his trouble-making and blustering. Though perhaps he may someday be put on trial by the IPC if the theories that he is working alongside Aventurine to undermine the corporation are true - we will just have to wait and see.

Thanks for reading my little ramble. I'd be super interested in anyone's thoughts if they'd like to share, but regardless, I'll leave off on some of my favourite wee quotes from the Rat man:

'Even a life marked by failure is a life worth living - it is only in moments of solitude and despair, when help is absent, that fools grasp how to pick themselves up.'

'Do stay alive. I wish you the best of luck.'

[swordoffrivolousthings]

The gods in PJO are not godly enough, in my opinion

I will start this rant by saying that this is only one of my problems with the PJO series. I understand why Riordan has humanized them, I know this is a middle school age book series. But I am older and I want to make them freaky and strange and kind of eldritch. With little to no explanation as for my choices.

ZEUS. He is the Olympian king of the gods, god of the sky, weather, law and order, destiny and fate and kingship. He is the law, as any king is. Every word he says is godly law, every little order will be followed. He is the king. So, he is stone-faced, made of marble, with no expression other than thoughtfulness and severeness (even if he sometimes isn't). His eyes are pure lightning, the hurricanes that ravage the world and the gentlest of summer rains. Most days, when he speaks of future events, they tend to happen that way, if not overruled by a higher power. His very presence is the ozone layer being brought down, heavy, tiring mortals and demigods out quickly. He treads lightly, with steps like gentle patters of rain, but his every breath is thunder.

HERA. The goddess of marriage, women, the sky and the stars of heaven, and the Olympian queen of the gods. Marriage, despite her own being something less than aspiring, is sacred. Couples that marry are under her protection, she still blesses their marriages. She sky shifts with her emotions, getting darker and night starting to fall. Her himation worn over her head, the only garment visible, reflecting the sky above. Her eyes, two bright stars, seeing something more than human perception can begin to understand.

POSEIDON. Olympian god of the sea, earthquakes, floods, drought and horses. His body is not, just from the corner of the eye, made of muscle, bones and tendons. Water, swirling and moving in the shape of a man, the odd strand of algae. Then you turn and he is barely human, but not saltwater. The waves seek and tug at his heels whenever he walks along the beach. His eyes, oceanic tectonic plates crashing, sending tsunamis to devastate the world. The air around him is salty, sea air clinging to his skin. Algae appear in his wake, reeking of the sea.

DEMETER. Olympian goddess of agriculture, grain and bread who sustained mankind with the earth's rich bounty. In her wake, every step makes a grain sprout, growing tall and healthy, and nothing can take it down. The seasons are slowly blooming and booming in her presence, the spring more verdant, the summer hotter, autumn plentiful beyond measure and winter always frigid. From behind her ears sprout oats and barley, always young and vibrant green, crowning her in the coming bounty. Her eyes are the colour of wheat, and when the wind blows the shadows in her eyes move with it.

ARES. Olympian god of war, battlelust, courage and civil order. He is war, bloody and cruel, senseless, personified. His very presence makes fights break out, indignities and betrayals happen. He is an oppressive force that bring the bravery out of the people, along with all the hate. If he stays long enough in one place, even Olympus, war breaks out, be it civil or not. This is why he never stays in one place too long. He is luting for blood, but war had wearied him. He will not do the same mistake twice, even in war. His eyes are the open wounds of soldiers, bleeding, infected, dying skin and rotting meat.

ATHENA. Olympian goddess of wisdom and good counsel, war, the defence of towns, heroic endeavour, weaving, pottery and various other crafts. Every tapestry and pot and garment worked by hand that is not up to her godly standard shrivels and turns to ash in her presence, obliterated by her beyond-human perfectioned craft. Towns are instantly protected when she is there, good grace and godly favour. War, like Ares, follows her. It is not kinder, nor is it bearable. Calculated, cold, some would argue that her wars are crueler, sadistic. Eyes like garment fiber and shattered pots, blood covering them.

APOLLO. Olympian god of prophecy and oracles, music, song and poetry, archery, healing, plague and disease, and the protection of the young. The sun, a power passed on, burns under his skin. It is the worst in the summer months, when the sun is more preeminent. His music, lighting every room in shades of enticement, is otherworldly, his voice, be it in song or word, is a mastery of perfection. From his hands, a single touch can be salvation or sickness. His arrows, silver for his twin, always strike true, no matter the target. His presence brings prophecies and fates to light. The power of the sun is in his eyes.

ARTEMIS. Olympian goddess of hunting, the wilderness and wild animals. She was also a goddess of childbirth, and the protectress of the girl child up to the age of marriage. Around her sprout forests, wild and untainted, a world where humans could get lost in and never be found again. Wild animals prowl after her, protectors and friends of her hunters. When the night is darkest, a power inherited, her skin lights up, a moon to shine in the dark of the shadows. Her hunters, her girls, are protected and her wrath is painful and cruel, like her domains, and they are recognisable by their golden arrows.

HEPHAESTUS. Olympian god of fire, smiths, craftsmen, metalworking, stonemasonry and sculpture. Beneath his skin flames are visible, a moving part of him, like tattoos. Every piece of metal he works with, no matter how briefly, turns into beatiful and powerful tools, an art all of their own. His buildings are steady and everlasting, the stone protected by his touch. His eyes, the hammer hitting metal, are coloured in such a way that they resemble statue's eyes.

APHRODITE. Olympian goddess of love, beauty, pleasure and procreation. Born of sea foam and godly blood, the salt clings to her. Curls her hair and makes her glow, the power of the sea just under her perfect skin. Everyone finds something beautiful in the face of beauty. It is enchanting, a spell most can hardly exist. She is everything everyone could ever want, a goddess for everyone's taste. Yet her anger is born of the sea, a cruel and unforgiving sort of death. To make love dislike you is to lose it all in the blink of an eye. To disrespect a goddess means death.

HERMES. Olympian god of herds and flocks, travellers and hospitality, roads and trade, thievery and cunning, heralds and diplomacy, language and writing, athletic contests and gymnasiums, astronomy and astrology. He speaks in languages long lost, and his travel notes are written in queer glyphs and writing systems. Sheep like him, without doubt. The souls of humans clash and itch to follow him when he enters a room, beyond willing to be taken to the underworld. The stars illuminate his path, a road he knows by heart but they don't care. They will guide him, no matter what.

DIONYSUS. Olympian god of wine, vegetation, pleasure, festivity, madness and wild frenzy. Vines grow from his footsteps, water and seawater and nectar and any other drink turn to wine in his hand. Where he is, the frenzied, happy and drunk follow, a retinue of people that enjoy and enjoy and enjoy. There is nothing not to like at first glance, and only at first glance. When one looks closer, the insanity begins. It is like sparks in his eyes, a nonsensical word past his lips. When you look closer at the people, there is no happiness in the thaws of madness.

HESTIA. The virgin goddess of the hearth and the home. It does not make her kind, because the gods rarely are. It makes her steady, the fire in the home that keeps the chill away from making itself at home. The fire that lights the way back home, sacred in temples and to extinguish it is to forsake her favour. Homes she has blessed are cozy, full of love, of safety. It does not make them fireproof.

HADES. The king of the underworld and god of the dead. He, king over bones and lost memories. His wife, unnamable, his presence like the heavy hand of time on mortal shoulders. Bones and skulls and the wispy whisper of the lost are his retinue. Half decomposed corpses his servants and valets and butlers. His name, scorned, is never said but on the eve of the winter solstice, when death is the surest companion. His eyes, dark but brittle as bone, promise something any other god can't understand.

PERSEPHONE. Goddess queen of the underworld, wife of the god Hades. She was also the goddess of spring growth. Her presence brings with it the smell of the first flowers of spring, little by little making the world greener. But her steps are always silent, always just a little far from the ground. She is a queen, death is her and her husband's domain. Of course she is ghostly, terrifying. Her perfume is of freshly dug earth and autumnal rain, the weeps of widows and widowers, the death of the young and elderly. Her name is unspoken, a curse when invoked. You will not hear her name on Olympus, in mortal mouths. Kore, Despoena, her titles are safe. Her eye is not benevolent, when it's attention is captured.

[egophiliac]

I always though Mal's mom was meant to be like "Eleanor" but they stuck an M at the start honestly, Sobbing Emoji. But "Maleanor" also makes me feel less insane since in that scene where she's just handed egg Malleus to Lilia and went to battle, it sounds more like Lilia is saying "Maleanor" than "Meleanor" (Japanese accent pending). Mayhaps they went more with what it sounded like the characters were saying :0 (we don't talk about Doodle Suit to Paint The Roses)

the transliteration of her name is Marenoa (マレノア), which is what all the voice lines are saying! all the Draconias' names start with マレ (Malleus' grandma is Maleficia/マレフィシア) as a nod to Maleficent. :D it's almost certainly a take on Eleanor, which is Erenoa (エレノア), but her name is written in English at a couple points, and I was pretty surprised to see it was Mel instead of Mal!

and, like, that's fine, it wouldn't be first Twst romanization that's tripped me up (like Keito for Cater, I know that's something to do with the loanword specific to playing cards(?) but it's just not how my brain wants to read it). but now Eng has given us Maleanor! and someone else said it was spelled inconsistently between Maleanor and Maeleanor??????? so WHO KNOWS it's a SPELLING FREE-FOR-ALL

I AM torn on which I want to use, because Mel just sounds so cute to me (and is what I'm used to now), but...the Mal consistency is kinda too good to pass up. alas, alas, truly these are the most difficult conundrums of our times. 😔

[turtleblogatlast]

[ cw: violence mention / death mention / ]

Will never stop thinking about how Leo, all alone in an endless void and being beaten again and again and again by the only other living thing around, still finds comfort in that space. The situation he was in was completely hopeless, and in any other circumstances he would not have escaped, at least not fast enough to save him from permanent (or even fatal) damage, be it physical or mental.

And yet, despite the bleakness of his situation, despite the agony and helplessness, all he needs is one glance at a crumbled photograph, one glance to remember his family, and that’s enough of a reason for him to smile.

Maybe that’s why his powers center around manipulating space - because no matter how much space is between them, no matter how dire his own situation may be, just the thought of his family, alive and okay, is enough to give Leo hope.

[redhotarsenic]

@nowfallc PICTURE!! FOR YOU!! PLEASE TAKE IT!! <3