#now that i dont have to worry about losing him i should do the expansions in the simulated universe

[killjoy-prince]

The ducky is mine!! :DDDD

[delimeful]

(dont) take this the wrong way (5)

warnings: injury, blood mentions, past psychological&emotional&physical abuse, ptsd, sickness

-

Virgil woke up, which was only unsurprising for the few moments it took him to 1. realize that his head was pounding and 2. remember the two very large reasons why.

His eyes flew open, and he found himself half-submerged in a shallow pool of cool water, surrounded by flat ledges of dry rock. The sound of ocean waves lapping against the cliffside echoed around the cavern, which was dimly lit by overhead cracks in the ceiling.

In one of these beams of paltry light, Logan was slumped over on his side, glasses askew. Virgil’s relief at seeing him was instantly overshadowed by terror at what could have happened to the human after Virgil had gone and gotten his skull knocked against rock.

His headache worsened, and he lifted a hand to press against the sore spot, pausing when he found more of those stiff bandage strips wrapped around his head.

The soft sloshing of water seemed to be enough to startle Logan into wakefulness, and the human brightened slightly at the sight of him. “Virgil. It’s good to see you awake. Are you feeling any pain or nausea?”

“What happened?” Virgil replied in lieu of the real answer, which was ‘everything hurts’. “Where are we, I thought we were dead for sure—!”

“Take a few deep breaths,” Logan advised, shuffling closer to the pool and offering a hand. Virgil took it gratefully. “We’re not currently in any danger. I believe we’re at the home of the seal-hybrid mer, if—“

“We’re what?!” Virgil’s voice dropped to a horrified double pitch, his grip on Logan’s hand instantly turning crushing.

“Ow,” Logan said in a pointed monotone. Virgil eased up before his claws could turn the human’s palm into bloody ribbons. “Let me finish, please. I’ve managed to work out a rudimentary method of communication, and as far as I know, we’re not currently at risk.”

“From the giant mer-eating monsters that literally kidnapped us, you mean?”

“Yes, that was the potential risk I was referring to.” Logan pulled Virgil further upright, reaching out with his free hand. “More importantly, you’ve been out for some time. Will you allow me to take a look at your injury?”

Virgil shuffled a little closer, allowing the hand to make contact with him. He had traversed currents of all temperatures, but in chilled still waters like this, Logan’s warmth was more than welcome. “I dunno how that’s more important than our inevitable, rapidly-approaching deaths, but sure, fine. Knock yourself out.”

“I will not? You are already dealing with a likely concussion, I see no reason to double that number.” Logan squinted at him like he was concerned that the head wound had taken a worse toll than he’d thought.

“No, it’s-- it’s just an expression. Don’t actually pass out, or I’ll freak out.”

“Ah,” Logan acknowledged, his hand twitching like he wanted to grab something before returning to carefully peeling the bandages away. “My apologies. Colloquialisms are not my strong suit.”

Virgil blinked back at him, because five syllable words were a little much even when he wasn’t concussed. “No worries?”

Logan continued to gently probe the back of his head. A sharp pang made him jerk away with a muted hiss, his vision blurring with pain as the sharp motion only agitated all his other cuts. He waved off Logan’s apology before it was fully formed. “S’fine. What’s the damage?”

“The bleeding has stopped, which is a good sign. It’s swelled significantly, but the cool water is hopefully helping reduce that as well. The best course of action now is for you to rest and recover in a dark, quiet place, ideally for at least two full days.”

“Yeah, but that’s not happening unless we get away first,” Virgil shot back, irritably twitching his fins down as Logan rewrapped the injury. The human let out a slow breath.

“Virgil. I believe the situation isn’t as dire as you think.” He settled back on his heels, back stiff as he spoke. “Our captors have shown no signs of aggression or hunger, even with the significant bleeding from your head wound. It’s possible--”

“It’s not possible!” Virgil cut him off, scowling fiercely. “That doesn’t mean anything. They’re playing some kind of sick game the way they always do, and if you let them trick you, you’re going to lose!”

Logan looked back at him inquisitively, still not getting it. “What evidence are you basing this off of? I was under the impression that you’ve spent only marginally more time in their company than me. Have they attempted to trick you in the past?”

“Yes, no, I mean--,” Virgil groaned, pulling at his bangs. “They don’t have to say it. That’s just how giants like them operate. We’re smaller, they can do what they want to us, we don’t get a say in it. You escape or you die.”

“Yet, we’ve been in their admittedly less-than-ideal care for over 24 hours, and they haven’t hurt us or made any indications they intend to hurt us.” Logan gestured expansively, his hand a bit wobbly. “That’s a rather long time to pretend, and for what purpose? If it was what they desired, we have been easy targets for a meal from the moment they relocated us.”

A rather long time to pretend. Virgil swallowed down a hysterical laugh, feeling dizzy. If a day of false niceties was all it took to buy his trust, he’d have never gotten away from his first encounter with a giant mer. “You’re— you’re human. You don’t know anything about this.”

Logan frowned. “I may be human, but that does not make me an idiot. Even with a language barrier, body language and expression are invaluable tools for communication, and I’ve been doing very little but observe them while you were unconscious. Virgil, if you just tried talking to them—“

“No!” he snapped, curling in even as his fins flared wide and threatening. He wouldn’t do this again, wouldn’t be subjected to the world’s most torturous game of catch and release, wouldn’t be lured back into too-tight hands by false promises and meaningless apologies. He couldn’t do that again.

Measured, rhythmic tapping on the back of his hand slowly brought him back to the present, cool air and Logan’s steady voice by his side. His throat was closed-up-too-tight, his gills too far out of the water to switch lungs— but the rhythm was counted out over and over, breathe in, hold, and out.

“There you go,” Logan said as Virgil took in another long, shuddering drag of air. “Well done.”

The air smelled like iron. He realized that somewhere in the past few minutes, he’d dug his claws into the soft sides of the human’s hand, drawing blood. He pulled away as though he’d been burned.

Logan didn’t even twitch, still searching his gaze intently. “Are you with me?”

Virgil nodded stiffly. “Yeah, I— fuck, I’m sorry.”

“No, I shouldn’t have pushed you. I didn’t realize— but I should have.” A deep, resolved breath. “It’s okay. I’ll find you a way out that doesn’t involve interacting with them.” Logan’s gaze went distant and hazy with thought, and Virgil hesitantly drew closer, pulling a bandage free to wrap around his bleeding hand.

… He was really warm. Clammy, too, and he’d been sitting in a cold, wet cave for hours, hadn’t he? Had been completely drenched for even longer.

“You’re sick,” Virgil said, and Logan took a moment too long to refocus on him. How had it taken him so long to notice? “That’s why you need me to talk to them. You need to get home.”

“My illness is no more severe than your injuries,” he deflected, adjusting his glasses clumsily. “Right now, the priority is getting you away from triggering circumstances. If my suspicions are correct, I will be fine regardless.”

Right. His suspicions, based on his willingness to trust his own abductors. He’d trusted Virgil, too, back in those tunnels. He’d known that he might be abandoned and he’d freed Virgil anyways, taken his hand anyways. Gotten hurt for his trouble.

He’d get hurt worse if Virgil left him here.

“... Yeah,” Virgil said, tucking the edge of the bandage in carefully. “But you should sleep for now. We both should. You said they haven’t done anything yet, right?”

“Yes, but…,” Logan’s brow was furrowed slightly, as though he knew something was off, but wasn’t quite sure what. “I mean, you do need rest. If… If you’re sure.”

“I am,” Virgil replied, curling against the edge of the pool and pillowing his head on his arms to hide their shaking. “Get some sleep, Specs.”

—

It was early morning when Patton woke to the splash of something small dropping into the water from his air room.

The room wasn’t overly large, being designed only for occasional use when he needed some extra oxygen in his system. It was also quite a few caves up above his sleeping den, but with two delicate little guests staying over, his senses were on high alert. He disentangled from Roman, who had been clinging to him for extra warmth, waking the shark mer in the process.

“Mwha’huh?” he asked groggily, and Patton chuckled at the way one side of his hair had been pressed into a tangled bundle.

“I think they may be awake!” he reported quietly, and Roman perked right up. They had originally hovered in the room over the two of them, only leaving after the human-- busy tending to the tiny mer’s wounds-- had gotten too fed up and used charades to shoo them away, leaving them with nothing to do but sit around and think about how badly they’d messed up. As such, they were both more than eager to start fixing things.

Upon popping up into the air room, however, they found only the human, lying completely still apart from the slow rise and fall of his chest. Deep in sleep, with an empty pool at his side.

Roman and Patton exchanged a panicked look, and ducked back underwater to search through his home and see where, exactly, the injured mer had gone.

It didn’t take long to spot him. The mer had practically every fin and frill puffed out, even the ones that were still injured. The threat display as eye-catching as they got.

He was hovering in the opening of a vent crevice, one that helped circulate seawater through the caves. It was small enough that if he vanished through it, they wouldn’t be able to stop him or see where he was headed. He knew it, too, staring them down with sharp defiance rather than absolute terror.

“Don’t move,” he said, as though they hadn’t both frozen at the sight of him. “I’m going to-- to make a deal with you.”

“A deal?” Roman asked, and received a sharp, wild-eyed glare for his troubles.

“Yeah, a deal. The other one is sick,” a slight jerk of the head toward the air room, “so he won’t last long here. Probably already too far gone to even play a single game.”

Patton was torn between concern (the human was sick?) and confusion. Game?

“But I’m fine. I’ve had much worse than this.” The mer drifted back slightly, closer to the crevice. “If I leave now, you’ll never find me, and then Lo-- the human will die, and you won’t have anything to play with.”

A creeping sense of dread overcame Patton. He still didn’t know what was going on, but it was sounding more and more like something was seriously wrong here.

“So, a deal. You take the human back to where you found him, and I’ll stay-- I’ll stay here,” his voice cracked painfully, but he ignored it, staring at them with a desperate sort of intensity. “With you. I won’t try to get away or anything. I-- I swear.”

“Get away?” Roman asked, his voice going high with the same sort of horror that currently swamping Patton. The mer ducked back at the sound, gaze flitting between them, some of that terror returning.

“I will! I’ll leave, if you-- you can either have one or none, that’s the deal, I’m not kidding. I’m not!” His fins flared wider, blood beginning to leak from some of them. “He’s human anyways, he can barely even swim, you don’t want him--”

“Kiddo,” Patton cut in urgently, raising his hands peacefully and trying not to wince when the mer flinched, “if he’s sick, of course we’ll take him back to where he can get help. No deals necessary, okay?”

The little guy didn’t look reassured at all. “I want to watch. I have to see you put him back, where other humans will find him, or else the deal’s off.”

He didn't believe them. Patton exchanged a helpless look with Roman, who finally nodded.

“Of course,” the shark mer said, “You are more than welcome to accompany us back to the mainland where Patton found him, provided that you’re not exacerbating your injuries.”

The mer hissed at him, a tiny, reedy sound. “And whose fault is that?”

“Irresponsible human fishing vessels?” Roman tried, and then wilted under both Patton and the mer’s looks when the joke fell flat. He cleared his throat. “It is, of course, mine. I wanted to apologize for the way I manhandled you before. Regardless of my intentions, it was unbefitting behavior, and it hurt you. I am truly sorry.”

He bowed with a little flourish, moving slower than normal. The mer stared at his bowed head apprehensively, and then covered the look up with a distrustful scowl.

“If you’re sorry, get Logan out of this place before he gets any worse,” he finally replied, and Patton nodded and went to retrieve the human-- Logan, presumably.

Glancing over his shoulder as he left, he could see the way the tiny mer’s fins had settled just slightly, not quite as frantically overextended as before.

It was a start.

[whencallstheheart]

We’ll find out tonight if our predictions are correct! 

Responses to the written questions are under the cut.

Where is Ned and what is he doing?

No idea

Business trip

Dealing with some financial issues.

Doing business in UC or Hamilton. Nothing major

He stayed behind next episode and will be back in the finale.

I think planning something for Florence, maybe expansion for the mercantile?

I don't know

I have no idea, wth!?!?

Yo i have no idea. I'm gonna take a wild guess and say he's trying to contact Florence's daughter who wasnt there for the wedding

Maybe he's visiting his daughter? Or expanding the Mercantile somehow

With Mike. Oil pipeline

Hiding

It sure

I have no clue honestly, maybe planning a surprise for Florence?

Perhaps...expanding his store? Or ordering something new to begin to be shipped to his.

something related to factory

Sussing out suppliers

Maybe something to do with the Wyman guy?

visiting his daughter

Buying a new house or a surprise for Florence

Visiting Abigail

Planning something special for Florence

He is doing something with his daughter

No clue

With his daughter

Planning to expand the mercantile to include deliveries (Hope Valley Amazon) lol

Not sure

I really dont know!

Made out a Will since he now is married to Florence

Business in Union City

Business, but he’ll be back

I don’t Know

I dont know. This one threw me!

Literally have no idea

maybe he will come back with his daughter who will come to live at HP

some sweet surprise/gift for Florence

He is involved im some growth in HV.

Taking care of business.

He's making a business deal somewhere

I have no idea. I think it was a weird to put in o.O

Making purchases for the store.

Business stuff somewhere

I don't know

i don't know

ned things

He just took the long way home...

Adopting Flo's son

Hiding

He is picking up a surprise order gift for Florence, and it’s taking longer than expected.

Fighting attempt to take over mercantile

Talking to a divorce lawyer. Or putting a pillow over Abigail's mom's face so she can bury her already and come back to Hope Valley for his buddy Henry's sake.

Honestly I’m not sure but interested to find out!

Idk honestly. Probably actually doing something sweet for Florence but she doesn't know it.

What's up with the Pinkertons?

Not sure

A storyline to bring a change of pace to the show.

I really Don’t know

Not sure, but I don’t think it will be resolved this season, maybe it’s the cliffhanger?

I don't know

They’re hired thugs like they were in S1, just there to show Walden is a bad guy despite appearances

Factory related

Up to no good! Don’t trust them.

Yo i dont even know. They look totally sketch but they are probably the good guys actually. I'm predicting they are after someone who's been wanted for a long time. I think it may be too easy to link them with the guy who took Jesse and Clara's money

Not sure yet

Working for Waldon

Railroad

Sneakily buying land

I couldn't care less about them

Perhaps something is in the cabin/someone they don't want found.

No idea

Something to do with the mine disaster (even though it's been ages).

we will see in season 9

Setting up a good storyline for season 9

Not sure maybe something to do with the new factory that might be built

Maybe it has to do with Henry

I have no idea, but I do not like them!

No good

Buying all the land

They have Jesse. Someone wants to reopen the mine and seek revenge on Elizabeth for his son going to jail (Spurlock).

Looking for some kind of hidden good

Shady dealings going on

Guarding the future factory site. But something extra at the cabin connected with Spurlock.

Trouble

?

An even bigger I dont know on this one. Like, what in the world???

Holding Jesse captive

I think they kidnapped Jesse because he found out what they were up to but I have no idea what that is

stumped on this one

That is difficult. He is apparently connected to S1 Spurlock. Is he there for revenge? Or, just a heavy hand like his relative?

Revenge? They want to take over Hope Valley.

Something sketchy, probably bigger than just whatever is going on with the cabin though.

Land grab

No clue but they'll be one of the big bads next season

They are probably the goons of the Industry dude

They are working for somebody bigger.

They want to take over the town

I don't know

i'm worried about Nathan

idk they are the bad daddys of the season

they can only be there to cover up a crime, or some valuable find

No clue

They’re wanting to uproot Hope Valley for better business by destroying the town.

Keeping identity of mastermind safe from townspeople.

Maybe looking for Ned, who alternatively is a serial killer and now on the run. Possibly for the murder of Abigail's mother?

I’m so confused lol

Creating a monopoly & doing some villain nonsense (as it would seem the show is hinting).

Any other thoughts going into the finale?

No

There will be at least one surprise- not sure what

There are too many loose ends to tie up in one episode and I just want Elizabeth and Nathan together (and perhaps quickly married in this episode!)

I’m honestly really nervous, I’m rooting for Nathan but I have a feeling she’ll go for Lucas, I really don’t mind Lucas as a character but like what storylines can they do with them as a couple? The manuscript is finished, they’ve gone on every sort of date at this stage and she’s been in his office. What else can they do? With Nathan they can do the being scared because of his job again but making it different, there’s children involved now, it’s not just Elizabeth. Jack won’t understand but Allie will 100% feel worried for him. Also Allie having a mother figure, especially at this stage in her life, how could you not want it! The blended family as the main family would be so nice for this show, I know it’s been done before but they will be fairly front and centre in the show. Sorry for the rant, I love your blog so much! I don’t have tumblr so I can’t leave comments or like your gifs but I thoroughly enjoy all your theories and opinions!!

Just ready for this stupid love triangle to be over!

I’d love to actually see Henry meet up with Abigail, but doubt it. I hope they have Clara do something heroic for Jesse, but also doubt it. Henry will definitely be putting Hickam in charge at least temporarily. I think Ned will return but we won’t get a full explanation yet. And the dramatic ending won’t be the triangle choice, it’ll be Elizabeth losing the school.

Allie’s adoption finalized and reaction to Elizabeth choosing Nathan is something we should see.

Glad the triangle will be DONE!!

I hope that Elizabeth follows her heart and not pick someone who is a safe option.

I wish Faith were leaving instead of Carson. Also, I think there will be lots of set up for problems with the school board and Elizabeth. Also, I want more little Jack scenes but i don't think we'll get much since child acting laws and covid combined make that difficult

Excited for Elizabeth to move on from her past and enter a new adventure with either of the two men and really just everything else (Rosie and Lee, Fiona, Henry.)

I hope Faith doesn’t end up with whoever doesn’t get chosen by Elizabeth.

hopefully the finale will clear up the drawn out love triangle

The triangle was waaaaay drawn out. Be done and choose.

Nathan and Faith......would be great......

No matter who Elizabeth chooses I'm SOOOO READY to get this over with!

Kindness matters - no matter who she chooses. Isn't that why most of us watch the show

I am so over the love triangle and just want to know who Elizabeth picks.

Worried about the fandom more than anything

Elizabeth please pick Nathan

It's just a TV show and no matter what , it's there for our entertainment. I do think they're setting things up for the return of Abigail in some way.

The must be a Season 9!!!

I hope Fiona does not get involved with Mike.

Hopefully things get back to normal for Elizabeth and Rosemary

Interested to see the other storylines. I want Elizabeth to choose Nathan but I think JT will throw us off. From the promo pic, it looks like they will try to put Faith with Nathan.

- I just want Elizabeth to chose so that this storyline can come to an end and we can finally get to see her marriage and functioning has a wife. - Wonder what will become of Lucas once her choice is made. - I would like Lucas to have a proper storyline that doesn't involve Elizabeth or the love triangle. - I would love to see Rosemary and Lee finally become parents however that may happen. I feel like the writer just left them in limbo about it and keep teasing but never delivering on anything.

Hopefully will end with Nathan but the very last minute. I would prefer more romance before the finale

Elizabeth will have to decide on what’s important with school.

Jack might make an appearance in a dream scene?

So excited! I hope I don't wake up my kids while watching.

I hope they don’t pick Lucas

CLARA DISCOVERS SHE IS PREGNANT

?

Just excited for this to be over. I know we needed it and I think overall it was handled decent enough, but I'm glad to finally move on.

Why is everyone so scared?

The whole season has been about getting over your fear. Elizabeth doesn’t have to deal with her emotions or real life with Lucas because school is out for the summer and she is working on her book. She needs to make up with Rosemary and get over the loss of Jack and fear to be with Nathan.

this season has been totally not what I expected...I thought the hug at end of season 7 was definitive and we'd get at least some Nathan courtship, not a complete U-turn to Lucas (with hopefully a turn to Nathan at the very end). I now think Season 9 will be what I expected season 8 to be, and I am very much looking forward to that.

Something sudden will allow Elizabeth to bring her feelings to light for everyone...Nathan. I think she will have decided by the time she takes of the rings, but will not have the opportunity to share with the man until later. Until she faces the prospect of him being in danger again? Full circle from the end of S7.

I need Elizabeth to really apologize to Rosemary. Rosemary has always been there for Elizabeth.

I’m so afraid :(

Hated the triangle

I am so ready to finally move on from this triangle!

They put waaaay too many storyline in the last 2 episodes, they will never manage to conclude them all and we'll have another weird random cliffhanger which will not tie in with the Christmas episode (If we're getting one ?)

I hope the guy who loses, has a good life in later seasons

The annoying love triangle will finally end. Elizabeth/Nathan are endgame, unless Jack suddenly comes back from the dead. But, I doubt it. I hope Lee/Rosemary are pregnant, or decide to adopt children. I just want Lee/Rosemary to have children. Can't wait to see how this season ends. Hopefully, it won't be a cliffhanger.

Nervous as hell

Elizabeth and Nathan get married

i kinda hope someone dies tbh it would make everything more interesting

Elizabeth was so tiresome this season, they could have told her story of overcoming grief in a much more relatable way. Why did they not just have her talking to Rosemary about how sad or exhausted or numb or angry she feels all the time? You know, something a widow would actually go through. At the very least she could have been stoic, instead she was just kinda bitchy.

Faith and Nathan will have some sparks; Elizabeth will choose Lucas and they will kiss twice one being at bridge one being at her home inside with baby jack present.Carson will leave; Jessie will be found; Ned will come back safely.

Lucas endgame, Nathan and faith have sparks, Rosemary paper, Jessie and Clara make up.

I think Henry will take his own advice and leave to find Abigail to see if there is still any hope for them. Though I like his character, I want him to finally be happy, and if that means staying with Abigail, then that’s what it means. I don’t think TPTB will bring back Lori soooo.... that means Henry would be the one possibly leaving. I also think some scare will happen with Nathan between him and the Pinkertons. Then it may come full circle at the end where Elizabeth runs to him like she did last season, but instead of hugging him, she’ll kiss him instead.

Hallmark execs dictated ending and will cut salaries to bring back Abigail, hence Paul leaving.

My condolences to whichever guy gets to look forward to being bored by Elizabeth for the rest of his life. Are we sure Jack's death wasn't a suicide?

Ready to see how it ends and already looking forward to next season!

I will be really disappointed if she chooses Lucas but I’m afraid that’s where it’s headed. Either way I don’t understand how they’ll end in “the healthy place” they’ve said it will be with so much left for one episode.

[letterstomilen]

i discuss the classification of igneous petrology as you fall asleep during my lecture (PART 1) (ASMR)

Childe/Zhongli, Alternate Universe (read part 2 here) When Childe's younger sister tells him about the volunteer at the library, he does not make the connection between that and his new favorite ASMR YouTuber, Rex Lapis.

Childe has a very effective method of getting through college. His little sister, who’s caught him making coffee at three in the morning on more than one occasion the past week alone, would beg to differ. 

“You’re the best older brother,” she starts off, and he’s sure she’s trying to convince herself more than him at this point, “but you need to fix your sleeping habits.” Then, because she’s his little sister, she’d flash him a smile and pat his shoulder reassuringly.

(The comment is not lost on him though. He understands his sleeping situation will eventually wear him down if it hadn’t already, but he believes if he’ll drink a coffee every morning and a Monster every night, he’ll get through three days. By the third day, he’ll hardly be coherent but that doesn’t matter because he’ll conk out for the next twelve hours and then repeat.)

“Don’t worry, Tonia,” he says, trying to sound as reassuring as possible as he contemplates whether it’s worth it or not to swallow a pill of 5-hour energy with his morning coffee. “Once break ends, I’ll get back to normal.”

“You said that six seasons ago.”

Childe frowns, trying to remember if his sleeping schedule was this dysfunctional last year. “Huh?”

“The Walking Dead seasons,” Tonia clarifies, as if she’s not twelve years old and the show is for grown adults. He thinks. He hasn’t checked Commonsensemedia ever since La Signora labeled him as a “helicopter parent” and his Netflix tab has been playing How to Get Away with Murder as background noise for the past few weeks.

Isn’t it a show about zombies though? Tonia’s sheepish smile tells it all, because it’s the same exact guilty look he had when he got caught red-handed as a kid.

(Once he remembers later, Childe promises himself, he’ll check out The Walking Dead.)

“Oh. Well. I have a lot of shows to catch up on, you know. Not to mention a ton of my professors gave me reading for over the break.”

A half lie. They did give him a lot of reading because each professor assumed that their classes were his only one, and with seven days left, he still has a textbook worth of reading to go through. But there are no shows that Childe would sacrifice his precious sleep for. As a matter of fact, he would love to sleep. He’s spent the majority of his classes back in high school sleeping and faking attention, saving his grade at the last minute — it was quite the extreme sport really, if he says so himself.

Whenever he tries to sleep recently, his thoughts run at several hundred miles per hour, and he spends several hours staring at the ceiling before succumbing to the computer at his desk and watching trashy movies. At this point, he must have gone through the entire romance comedy list on Netflix. (Not a proud point in his life but if anybody ever wanted him to give a list of best to worst romance comedy movies, he now has one.)

Tonia, on the other hand, isn’t incredibly convinced.

Admittedly, the excuse was lame. Also, he can’t easily lie to his little sister, who’s far shrewder than he takes her for at times.

“You never start your reading in advance. You like to speed read it right before your class or watch a five-minute video on the chapters while your teachers take attendance. But that’s… uh, ‘a bad work ethic.’” Tonia looks immensely proud of herself as she says this, finishing it off with, “Zhongli told me that.”

“Zhongli?” he repeats, trying to remember if that’s one of her classmates or some stranger that’s hoping to kidnap his sister.

“The guy that volunteers at the library sometimes. He recommended me a loot of good books to read, but he talks like an old man.”

“How old?” Childe can tell she’s enjoying this — talking about her new friend at the library that he’ll probably have to run a background check on.

“Like he’s in his sixties or something. But he looks… actually, he looks your age! And he’s a student too. I told him all about you.”

Well, that doesn’t sound very reassuring coming from the mouth of a twelve-year-old. He’s not sure if that translates to his social security number, his current dilemma, or just that he’s her older brother.

“Like all of the stories you told me when I was a kid. And then when Lumine came to pick me up, she stayed to show him pictures of you too.”

“Of course she did,” he mumbles, ruffling her hair. One of these days he’s going to move without telling his classmates and the twins won’t enter his apartment unannounced. (But Tonia adores their company and the stories they tell her far too much for him to actually do it. But that doesn’t mean he’s above making threats when they tell his little sister about the bet he made about white-out and how it could dye hair. The jury is still out on this one.) “She’s just mad because I get away with it and she doesn’t. But don’t do it yourself. It’s a bad habit,” he adds, remembering that he should at least try to be a good influence on his younger sister when he can.

“Okaaay,” she says unconvincingly, before shaking her hair and running off to her room with lunch he prepared for her.

Watching her close the door and no doubt continue her binge of The Walking Dead, he takes out his phone and texts Lumine.

 Childe

12:35

ur a horrible influence on tonia

 Childe

12:35

and whos this ZHONGLI

 Childe

12:35

also is twd appropriate for 12 y/os

 Twin 1

12:37

a normal person would say hi

 Twin 1

12:37

also 1. me n aether watched it when we were 12 so probably and 2. some guy at the library that also goes to our school

 Well. At least he’s somebody they know. But The Walking Dead?

 Childe

12:38

thats not very convincing

 Childe

12:38

also dont ppl DIE? get BITTEN???? what if she gets nightmares

 Twin 1

12:39

isnt she 12 r u telling me u weren’t watching R rated movies at 12

 Childe

12:42

thats very different from a 10 season long show that is hailed as “one of the greatest horror shows in history” and “paved the way for post-apocalyptic horror”

 Twin 1

12:42

well if she has trouble sleeping she could always watch asmr. that helps me during midterms idk

 Childe

12:42

whats asmr

 Childe

12:43

asking for my sister btw

 Twin 1

12:44

A feeling of well-being combined with a tingling sensation in the scalp and down the back of the neck, as experienced by some people in response to a specific gentle stimulus, often a particular sound.

 Childe

12:45

wtf?

 Twin 1

12:45

people on the internet make random sounds or just talk into a mic n its supposed to be very relaxing. how have u never found out abt this?????

 Childe

12:45

idk the only thing on my youtube recommended r greatest stunts and chapter review videos

 Twin 1

12:47

… makes sense

 Twin 1

12:47

check out rex lapis’ channel he looks like ur type

 Childe

12:48

i thought we were talking about my sister????

 Twin 1

12:50

[message screenshots.jpg]

 Twin 1

12:50

ya she told me everything

 Twin 1

12:50

have fun i need to convince aether to not commit arson bc of his TA

 Childe

12:51

hope he does it

He opens his Youtube app, typing in Rex Lapis and expecting Lumine’s suggestion to be a joke. Despite them being friends for nearly two years now, she’s never made any indication of knowing his type. And he’s sure he’s never been that vocal about it either, only shooting appreciative looks at history majors and paying more attention than necessary to the TA for ‘Tradition of Justice and Law.’ (It’s unfortunate that those short-term crushes never led to anything, but maybe that’s for the better seeing that Childe has never understood the appeal of relationships.)

It is an ASMR channel, judging by the ASMR playlist he finds as he scrolls through the account. The icon shows no face — only a microphone — which leaves him skeptical. Most of the video titles belong in a petrology lecture as well, which makes him even more convinced that it’s a joke. He finds a few readings of ancient literature and decides to pick ‘I discuss the classification of igneous petrology as you fall asleep during my lecture (PART 1) (ASMR)’ because that’s exactly what he needs. (Not the very moment — but ten hours later when he’s in the bed memorizing the pattern of his ceiling wondering why he stole from his fifth grade teacher’s candy jar during lunch.)

When Childe opens the video, he damn near gasps.

The man in the video is exactly his type. His eyes are a soft amber color, framed with long lashes, and it’s almost enough for him to lose his dignity and message Lumine a long thank you text about how she is always right and he’ll pay for her coffee for the following week.  He smiles at the screen, albeit a little sheepishly, dark hair framing his face with a long ponytail that Childe can’t see the end of. On his right ear, there are a pair of earrings with a single feather that brush against his neck when he moves his head.

Even before he speaks, Childe is mesmerized, sure he’ll already memorize his features from the curve of his nose to the way he tilts his head, displaying the expanse of his neck.

Really — he reminds him of actors in historical dramas, the way he sits regally, and how he speaks. His voice is low and slow as he adopts a careful manner of speaking, leaning into the mic.

“I’m Rex Lapis, and I’ll be discussing igneous petrology today, which is part one in a three-part petrology series. I apologize in advance, seeing that my knowledge is limited compared to many petrologists out there but my friend Venti said that many of my viewers are here for my voice, so I’m very excited to start today’s video.”

Holy shit.

For the following week, Childe learns less about petrology, the philosophy of economics, and historical revisionism concerning matters of war and more about Rex Lapis, who is not in love with his voice but often finds himself in the middle of long tangents without explanations. His favorite book series is the Legend of the Lone Sword, which he says he’ll look forward to reading out loud for the channel. (Childe replays that part of the video again and again, captivated by his excitement as he mindlessly taps the mic while he speaks, his tangent cutting off mid-word — as it usually does, much to his dismay.)

His guilty obsession is not lost on Tonia, who realizes that instead of drinking Monster every night he’s been engrossed in his phone completely, often not noticing her or when the water starts bubbling. But because his sleeping schedule has been alleviated, she says nothing until Lumine comes over as she always does, not forgetting their weekly schedule of watching trashy movies while leeching off of Childe’s food.

Because he doesn’t trust the twins with the kitchen — even if they can cook — she instead spends her time sitting next to Tonia and spreading more of her anti-Childe propaganda while they wait. This usually involves Tonia occasionally calling out Childe’s name and asking, “Is that true?” or “Did you really do that?”

This time is different though.

Worried that Lumine finally decided to show Tonia a video of last semester’s presentation, he leans over, looking at the computer screen.

And he’s wrong. Unfortunately. Maybe it should’ve been his presentation because even if he botched it and accidentally projected his work process — screaming notes and all — to the class instead of his actual presentation, it would’ve been better than the two of them watching one of Rex Lapis’ videos together.

The ‘I read Erosion: Essays of Undoing to you as it rains outside’ video, to be specific, which is where Rex Lapis is embarrassed by Venti mid video when asked if this was his idea of a date with a lover. (And then it ends with Rex Lapis asking for video suggestions from the commentors, his face still flushed from the previous comments.)

Oh God — oh fuck.

“So he is your type,” Lumine says, her expression a bit too smug for his liking. Tonia looks half awake, scrolling through articles as the video plays, more interested in ‘Top 10 Glenn Rhee Moments’ than Childe’s crush. Her expression is a bit guilty as she does so — she’s biting her lip and avoiding his gaze, but he assumes that it’s just because they went through his YouTube history.

“I can neither confirm nor deny that statement,” he retorts, but the YouTube history she pulls up once Tonia hands the computer over to her says it all. (It’s quite mortifying, really — even Tonia is giving him a look, but it’s not as bad as Lumine’s shit eating grin.)

“Well… he does have a nice voice,” Childe finally says, thinking that perfectly encompasses his most recent obsession. Because he does have a nice voice — it’s soothing and speaks to him without really speaking to him directly. (The good looks are a bonus, he assures himself. A fantastic bonus, but a bonus nonetheless.)

“He does,” Tonia confirms, smiling toothily up at him, and he resists the urge to ruffle her hair with Lumine staring at him so skeptically. “But I don’t understand much of what he’s saying. He — heh — talks like an old man.”

“Don’t worry, Tonia, your brother likes him because he’s attractive,” Lumine informs her, now fast forwarding on one of Rex Lapis’ videos. “Did you know that he lives nearby?”

“Huh?”

The knife he’s holding clatters to the floor, and the two look down and back up at him with— hold on, why does it feel like they’re in on a secret he doesn’t know about?

“Yeah, he’s working on his grad thesis I think… Aether told me it was about something on history,” she muses. “That’s why I recommended his channel to you. He’s a bit of a celebrity in his department.” Childe’s sure his jaw dropped now, trying to maintain his facial expression as he takes out a new knife to chop up the onions.

“Really,” he tries to say as calmly as possible, wondering how he should accompany Aether to his lectures without trying to seem as obvious as possible. His voice is a bit shaky he realizes but he can’t quite make the connection between Rex Lapis and actual graduate student that goes to his university.

“Yeah, actually…” Lumine is definitely pretending to think now, enjoying this far too much. “He—”

“It’s Zhongli!” his little sister yells excitedly, practically jumping up and down at this point as if she won the lottery. “Zhongli runs an ASMR channel and he talks just like that in real life! Right, Lumine?”

“Yeah.”

Childe sighs, holding a hand up to his face. The realization that he’s been obsessed with the same guy that hears about every stupid thing he did secondhand is way too much — and the fact that he’s been listening to his voice every night before he went to bed the past week is way too much. He’s sure his face is redder than before judging by the amused expressions on Lumine’s and Tonia’s faces — really, they’re mirror images of each other right now.

Not for the first time, Childe swears to himself that he’ll never let her into his apartment without signing a contract ever again.

[final-fantasy-mama]

A face like a Goobbue

Emet Selch X WOL

This is backstory for Amaurot, non canon, just me playing around with ideas and trying to build a story. This is the official first chapter of my fic and all other chapters will follow a general plot line and the main story of SHB. It probably sucks but meh, enjoy! Again I will say this is non canon so if small things are different than the game dont kill me. Im using the title of Altima (ultima, virgo) for the wol just because thats my zodiac and my favorite summon from ff12.

************************************** 

"Before the sundering there was one world. A world that knew naught but peace and prosperity. Until it was faced with a crisis. Unprecedented. Terrifying. Civilization found itself perched upon a precipice, staring into oblivion." ~ Emet Selch

"You weren't impressed I take it?" Hythlodaeus asked as he and his companion walked down the darkened streets of Amarout. A city as grand and opulent as Amaurot never truly slept and even at the wee hours of nightfall people could be seen going to and fro, couples joined in hand for a moonlight stroll, folks walking in and out of pubs and eateries, and beings like Emet Selch and his friend Hythlodaeus returning from another long winded convocation meeting. This one had gone on longer than needed but much was needed to be covered and introduced as it was not every day a new member was added to their elite ranks. The moon was high in the sky and gave enough soft light for them to walk about unbothered.

"Hmmmm." Emet grunted beneath his mask. "Considering how they spoke not more than 5 words during the whole meeting and seemed to be seated just for decoration, I would say I’m not so much unimpressed as I am simply disappointed. The convocation made it seem like our 14th member was something to be astounded by and yet all I saw the entire session was some meek mewling lamb shaking in their robes. The title of Altima is not given freely nore easily so on earth did they earn it?"

His friend had to chuckle, and they trotted along under the lamp lit streets of their great city, the tall buildings and spires filling the skyline against a dark blue sky. Their robes gently swept the ground as they moved at a steady pace in the direction of home. "It is just as you say, the title of Altima is not given easily so shouldn't you give them the benefit of the doubt? It was their first day, mayhap they were nervous? Goodness knows the state of affairs in the world right now would make anyone feel awkward."

"Awkward enough to call on someone who obviously lacks experience...What do you imagine they look like under that white mask they wear?" Emet suddenly pondered in a mocking way.

"Like any other of our kin." Hythlodaeus shrugged.

"Like a Goobbue I'm sure." He mocked and then suddenly stopped. Across the street in a darkened area sat a rusty gate covered in ivy and morning glories. The lot had been vacant for a while with an old mansion on the grounds, unable to be resold as most people regarded it as condemned or unlivable. Now though, the old mansions murky windows were lit, and a pleasant sound drifted from its inner gardens. Someone was living here.

His friend noticed how intently he stared at it and mentioned, "Oh looks like someone finally moved in. A blessing to be sure, that mansion was in need of repair."

A burst of light from the garden and wave of Aether made them both gasp and look at each other. "Who purchased this residence?" Emet asked suspiciously.

Hythlodaeus shrugged and adjusted his grey mask accordingly. "I'm not too sure. It must have been recent if neither of us have heard rumor of it."

Emet eyed the garden beyond the gate. "Creation magic that powerful shouldn't be used willy nilly in a public space."

Again, there was another burst of light and Emet crossed the street with his friend running to catch up. "What are you doing?!"

"That sort of Aether output should not be so hap hazardously used in such a setting without any supervision, I'm going to see what this perpetrator is up to!" Emet huffed.

"First off you're not one to make judgements like that due to your own tarried record!" Hythlodaeus scolded. "Second, you are breaking and entering!"

Emet rolled his eyes. "Then stay here if it frightens you so!" and gingerly opened the gate and stepped inside.

"Have you lost your mind!?" His friend hissed and then threw up his hands. "Do as you like but I’m not going to face any charges for your reckless snooping!" He turned on his heel and stomped away as Emet untangled himself from the ivy of the gateway and carefully made his way towards the garden.

Music gently filled the area as he turned the corner of the mansion as was greeted by a large open courtyard filled with trees and flowers of all species and colors. They sprang out of the ground in no particular order, completely at the will of nature making the are seem more like a jungle than a courtyard. Lanterns hung off the tree limbs casting soft light over everything as a gazebo sat in the center of it all and in the center of the gazebo sat a person, hunched over a small table and scribbling furiously into a large notebook.

Their back was turned to Emet Selch so all he could glimpse was the provocative expanse of bare back and the trailing ruffles of a white nightgown, its wearer so consumed by their scribbling they scarce noticed the intruder. A gramophone played soft music next to them as they looked up from their book, snapped their fingers and a burst of light filled the area. Emet hid himself in the shadow of the nearest tree as something chirped and landed on the back of the creator’s chair. From the light a winged creature kin to a bird but with an absurdly large beak, gray feathers and a rather grumpy face appeared. It flapped its new wings a few times from its perch as the creator patted their head affectionately.

Then the figure stood up and stretched long feminine arms over a head full of long silky hair, looking up at the moon in the sky and reaching for it as if they could pluck it from the expanse, before turning in a way that Emet could see their features. In the privacy of her own home, her face was barren of any mask or covering and when she turned in his direction fully, he felt his heart stop in his throat. A beautiful face with glaringly sharp eyes and soft features looked directly at him.

Time seemed to stop for him as this white dressed goddess took a step forward, her soft nightgown hanging loosely off her shoulders and dragging on the ground behind her as if it were a wedding gown. She raised a graceful hand and pointed a finger at him before shouting a command and something struck Emet hard behind the head. It sent him flying forward and onto the ground face first. He didn’t even manage a shout as he rolled onto his back and a long leg and dainty foot planted itself hard enough into his chest he grunted in pain. The woman in white stood over him, a scowl on her face, hands on her hips as she dug her foot in deeper.

"You'd better have a good excuse for being here!" She growled as a small black cat raced up her leg, around her chest and rested on her shoulder. She had used her creatures to attack him whilst he was preoccupied.

He tried to speak but her foot on his chest made it difficult so he croaked. "Madam you misunderstand!"

"Misunderstand what?!" She exclaimed. "You're trespassing in my garden and spying on me like some....some pervert!"

"Creation magic used outside the security of the hall of concepts is strictly prohibited! Only members of the higher echelons and the convocation are allowed to create outside those restrictions. You have a lot of nerve calling me a pervert when you are so openly disobeying sacred law!" He snapped back.

"Frankly what I do on my own property is none of your business." She said matter of factly.

"I am of the convocation! Now would you kindly take your foot off of me so I may further explain myself!" He growled, finally losing his cool under the circumstances. He slapped her foot off as he stood up and dusted the grass off his black cloak.

She looked him up and down before saying. "If you're on the council then you should know better than to go sneaking around a lady's home in the dead of night."

He huffed as he straightened himself out and bowed rather begrudgingly. "Emet Selch, the Architect, at your service."

She paused and stared so hard at him she might have bore holes through him. "Oh. You." She said simply as if it was no matter.

"What do you mean, Oh you? Accosting a council member is so uncouth one would have to ask where you acquired your lack of manners!"

She smirked. "Not as uncouth as a man staring a girl down in her nighties."

He felt heat creep up his neck. "I was investigating the misuse of creation magic! Nothing more! I was most certainly not admiring your lithe form beneath the moonlight...uh, that is I was not admiring you at all!"

She giggled, the atmosphere turning instantly to something mirthful while she walked back to the gazebo. "I've heard of you Emet Selch and rumor has it you're not a paragon of justice and order, in fact I heard you and Hythlodaeus are quite the troublemakers." She waved for him to join him at the table and he did reluctantly as she snapped a tea set into existence. After pulling up a second chair for him and sliding a hot glass of tea his way, she sat back down herself and pushed her large notebook aside. Emet could see that it was filling with drawings and diagrams, all hand drawn in dark pencil. The current page she had been working on had a drawing of the bird that sat at her back and under it a name. "Shoe bill".

"You're concepts?" Emet asked as he calmed himself down on tea.

"I never create anything unless I’ve drawn it out first and written myself detailed instructions. As you say, the misuse of such magic is costly and dangerous, so do good fellows like yourself need not be worried about little old me." she smiled and put a few lumps of sugar into her own drink.

"And you are...?" He dared to ask.

Emet watched her as she drank her tea down and noted the subtly bobbing of her lovely throat as she swallowed. She was without a doubt the most enchanting creature he had ever seen and when she told him her name, he wished he could go back in time and take back everything bad he said about her, for he had never been more wrong in his life. Oh, Emet sometimes you need to put your mask where your mouth is, this was one filly you needn't mess with.

"We met earlier today. I am Altima, the 14th member of the convocation...and probably not as Goobbue faced as you imagined. You and your friend should speak more quietly when in public, you never know what manner of creatures might be listening in on you." She smirked as she rested her chin in her hand.

[homespork-review]

Homespork Act 2: The Racism of the Conductor’s Baton (Part 2)

FAILURE ARTIST: We don’t get much time to mourn with Dave because the comic flashes to a weird wizard statue. This statue is ZAZZERPAN THE LEARNED. Wizards are another recurring theme in Homestuck. Andrew Hussie once artfully defaced this cheesy book called Wizardology (warning: lots of really offensive humor). Anyway, Rose hates the giant statue and the other wizard paraphernalia her mother collects and believes her mother does this only to spite her. On a platform is a bronzed vacuum (with a place to put alcoholic beverages) that Rose gave her as an ironic present. On the couch there’s a life-sized princess doll that Rose has attached a Cthulhu-type head to. All these things set up Rose’s troubled relationship with her mother. Rose believes her mother is taunting her and Rose taunts her back.

BRIGHT: This scene also establishes that some things (the Cthulhu doll for one) are too big to be captchalogued.

CHEL: Actually, that was noted with the harlequin doll earlier but we forgot to mention that.

FAILURE ARTIST: Rose goes to the kitchen. On the fridge is a crude picture of her late cat Jaspers, who turns out to be more than a family pet. There’s more signs of this cold war between mother and daughter on the fridge.

CHEL: Also, numerous liquor bottles in the kitchen and comically exaggerated displays of wealth, such as a fifteen-thousand-dollar picture frame.

FAILURE ARTIST: After fussing with the fridge, Rose tries to leave the kitchen only to run into her mother. She tries escaping but lands comically in some wizard statuettes.

CHEL: Mom Lalonde is mopping the floor, with no water in the bucket, holding a martini in her other hand. The woman clearly has a problem. Again, this is an issue with the portrayal of the parents; this is pretty funny, but were a real mother behaving this way, it would seriously mess up the kid, and whether we’re supposed to take it as Rule of Funny or not later becomes inconsistent.

BRIGHT: I think a lot of the humour here is supposed to come from the implication that Mom Lalonde actually is a loving if clueless (and drunk) parent, and Rose is reading her badly. On the other hand, something is clearly very wrong, and while Mom Lalonde may indeed be loving the situation is definitely having an impact on Rose.

TIER: Say whatever you want, but when putting on the late game Cerebus Retcon goggles there are probably non-humorous questions to be asked about how screwy Mom Lalonde is as a parental unit if her daughter has ended up interpreting most of her actions as mocking or backhanded towards herself. Like, kids don't just decide that.

ARE YOU TRYING TO BE FUNNY?: 3

CHEL: Back to Dave, he’s chatting with GG and they’re being adorable. GG comments about her birthday present to John, the green box we saw in the car earlier, and…

GG: no!!!!!!! GG: he will not open it GG: he will lose it!!! TG: oh TG: uh TG: wow sorry to hear that i guess? GG: no its good actually! GG: because he will find it again later when he really needs it GG: which of course is why i sent it in the first place! TG: see like TG: i never get how you know these things GG: i dont know GG: i just know that i know!

I think here is when we start to get inklings of the kids’ unusual abilities - I mean, unusual in the context of the weird world they live in. A bit more is established about GG’s home life and Dave’s attitudes, too:

GG: i have to feed bec which is always a bit of an undertaking TG: man TG: if i were you i would just take that fucking devilbeast out behind the woodshed and blow its head off GG: heheheh! GG: i dont think i could if i tried!!! TG: yeah TG: say hi to your grand dad for me too ok GG: ._. GG: yes i guess an encounter with him is almost certain GG: it is usually........ GG: intense!!! TG: well yeah isnt it always with family TG: but he sounds like a total badass

“Intense” in a world where attacking your father with a hammer isn’t worthy of comment sounds worrying. We’ll see how that goes.

FAILURE ARTIST: Dave has the tiniest of smiles here and in Hussie’s annotation he says that one pixel created Dave/GG. Whether or not their connection is romantic, Dave obviously feels great affection for her.

CHEL: Interactions between all four of the kids are really sweet, honestly. Dialogue and character interactions are one of the strongest points of the comic overall. Personally I have a soft spot for the OT4.

TIER: In my unprofessional opinion, the beta humans are by far the most functioning and tight knit group of the various groups within the comic, for what that's worth considering the overall dysfunction junction. They're sweet to one another is what I'm saying.

CHEL: Dave talks to John, who mentions the creepy trails around his house and how he thinks he’s seen monsters, which we the audience have definitely seen; creepy little black imps with fangs and, oddly, jester outfits. They bear a striking resemblance to the Wayward Vagabond, in fact. Dave makes fun, but at least pretends not to disbelieve him, and urges him to keep his hammer at the ready. Dave can’t find his Bro, but can find “Lil Cal”, implying Bro is nearby.

TG: lil cal is the shit EB: that's fine, you are entitled to your opinion, i am just saying that being a white guy who is a rapper with a ventriloquist doll is not cool by any stretch of the imagination or by any definition of word cool, ironic or otherwise. that's all i'm saying. WHITE SBURB POSTMODERNISM: 5

Would a non-white rapping ventriloquist be any cooler? I’m struggling to see how. Ventriloquism, by definition, sucks the cool out of any other aspect of the thing. And now I’m picturing Carlton from Fresh Prince trying to rap with a ventriloquist’s doll.

BRIGHT: Back at the Lalonde residence, Rose attempts to ‘Youth Roll’ out of the front door, but her escape route is blocked by her mother, who appears with martini glass in hand. Time for our second Strife of the comic! (And can I say that I really like the music for this one?)

As with John’s strife with his dad, this strife tells us a lot about Rose’s relationship with her mother. John had the AGGRIEVE and ABJURE options; Rose also gets AGGRESS (PASSIVE) and ABSTAIN. It’s pretty telling that one of these options is an EMPTY SUICIDE THREAT, and ‘Abstain’ has Rose fending off her mother’s insistent offer of the martini glass.

FAILURE ARTIST: I liked the EMPTY SUICIDE THREAT at the time but now I think it deserves an ARE YOU TRYING TO BE FUNNY?

BRIGHT: Mom Lalonde may be intended as loving-but-clueless, but she’s offering her thirteen year old daughter alcohol, over Rose’s protests, and something is clearly very wrong if suicide threats are a normal part of life. (Something similar will come up in the future, but in that context it isn’t played for laughs.)

ARE YOU TRYING TO BE FUNNY?: 4

On a lighter note, ‘Abjure’ has her mother offering her A BEAUTIFUL PONY. Rose reacts in the moment like this is terrible, but does later pat the pony’s nose.

At any rate, the strife ends when Mom Lalonde apparently gets bored and decides to do some dusting. This takes all the fun out of using the front door, so Rose goes around the back to make her break for the generator.

Meanwhile, John is trying to read up on weaponizing sylladexes (sylladices?), but is being nagged by a voice to turn around — which he finally does, just in time for a monster to ram into him so hard it turns the panel pixelated. Strife time!

John’s bout with the Shale Imp kicks off with the monster threatening the Con Air bunny. John’s efforts to defend it are intercut with Rose’s progress out of the house and through the rain to the mausoleum. I think this interplay works quite nicely — it keeps both things moving without letting the reader get impatient -- but your mileage may vary.

The imp aggravates John by punching the bunny in the belly and waving it at him. John attacks the imp and breaks his hammer, then attacks it with the handle and gets knocked flat. Finally he weaponises his sylladex and chucks his inventory at it until it explodes into a shower of grist.

PUT THE BUNNY BACK IN THE BOX!!!!!! Now why couldn’t he put the bunny back in the box?

Because he’d set it as his strifekind, it turns out.

In true video game style, defeating the imp causes John to level up! In Homestuck, this is done by ascending one’s echeladder, a series of player levels with whimsical, old-fashioned names. John climbs two rungs, from Greentike to Plucky Tot, and earns 125 Boondollars.

Note how efficient this is: In one panel we can see that the echeladder is a levelling system, that Boondollars are in-Game currency, and that levelling up has increased John’s amount of grist and how much of it he can carry. He’s also got a new kind of grist called ‘Shale’. Hussie does take an extra panel to clarify the grist capacity expansion, but that makes sense as it’s a small part of the original panel. Compare this to the dozens of panels we’ve had laying out how sylladexes work. These panels are much more information-dense, and the comic flows better for it.

CHEL: Exactly what “grist” is and what it does beyond allowing changes to the house, why those changes are needed, and what “boondollars” are for hasn’t been explained yet, but will be soon, and it’s clear they’re something to do with the game so it’s not outright confusing.

BRIGHT: John spends the next few panels sorting his strife specibus out, and stashes the bunny in there for safekeeping. There’s something amiss, but he can’t quite put his finger on it...

Meanwhile, Rose has reached the mausoleum and prepares to activate the generator. The taxidermied corpse of her beloved pet lies in state, dressed in a tiny suit. A sad fate for an animal who should have peacefully decomposed in a flowerbed. Rose kicks it off the pedestal to make room for the laptop.

John discovers what’s wrong when a bucket of water perched atop his door lands on his head. The culprit behind this sudden dousing?

"[S] WHAT THIS IS SO OUTRAGEOUS (HD)" (Watch on YouTube)

Apparently the sprite has a sense of humour.

Next up is a pesterlog between Rose and Dave. There are hints that all is not well in the Strider residence.

TG: hey TG: dont tell john this but i think he might have been right about the puppets TG: theyre sort of starting to freak me out a little TT: You're referring to your brother's collection? TG: i mean dont get me wrong i think its cool and all TG: the semi-ironic puppet thing or whatever TG: or semi-semi ironic TG: man i dont even know TG: im just starting to think some of this shit is going a little far and its kind of fucked up TT: I've seen his websites. TT: I like them. TG: haha yeah well YOU WOULD TG: oh man i wish lil cal wouldnt look at me like that TG: with those dead eyes jesus TG: sometimes i dream that hes real and hes talking to me and i wake up in a cold sweat and basically flip the fuck out

Well, not so much hints as flashing neon signs. Dave’s gone very quickly from insisting that everything his brother does is cool and Lil Cal is awesome, to admitting that he has nightmares about Lil Cal and is freaked out by his brother’s ‘semi-ironic puppet thing’. We don’t know much about Bro’s websites yet, but we do know that Rose has a morbid streak, and Dave is clearly disturbed by the content.

Dave leaves to find his brother’s copy of the game, and we return to John, who, to quote Rose, has ‘just had a bucket of water dumped on his head by the ghost of his dead grandmother, who also happens to be dressed like a clown.’

And yes, that is indeed John’s dead Nanna, returned to help him on his journey through The Medium and beyond -- or at least, she claims she is. John has to take her word for it, as he doesn’t remember her at all. According to his Dad, John was pretty young when she died. Speaking of his Dad, he’s been kidnapped by the forces invading John’s home.

Nannasprite gives John the background of the game and what’s going on. His house is now in the Medium. This place was created by the game software, but is physically independent of it -- and no, he’s not inside a computer. The Medium floats in the Incipisphere, a place outside the normal flow of time in the kids’ universe. Above the Medium is the realm of Skaia.

According to Nannasprite:

Legend holds that Skaia exists as a dormant crucible of unlimited creative potential. What does this mean, you ask? I'm afraid my lips are sealed about that, dear! Hoo hoo!

Nannasprite is somewhat like a tutorial assistant for the game -- she helps guide John and provides information, although she’s somewhat cryptic.

We are getting a lot of new words here, but Hussie is defining them pretty well as we go, so I don’t think it merits a point.

At any rate, Skaia is defended by the forces of light, while forces of darkness plot its destruction. These two forces exist in an endless stalemate on a stage at the centre of Skaia until a player with a prototyped Kernelsprite enters the Medium. Then the prototyped Kernelsprite splits, with one Kernel carrying the prototyping information up to a kingdom basked in light, and another Kernel carrying it down to the kingdom of darkness. Each kingdom has four Spires, and when the Kernel reaches one, it propagates the prototyping information to the kingdom’s forces.

This is why the imps were dressed as jesters: John prototyped his Kernel with the harlequin doll, and whatever the other players prototype with will influence what forms the soldiers take. When the first Kernels reach the spires, the battlefield gets bigger and the war begins for real.

Oh, right -- and the forces of light are always destined to lose.

So what’s the point? Apparently, that’s for John to find out. For now, though, he needs to head towards Skaia, going through the first of seven Gates. The first Gate is situated directly above John’s house, but the others are going to be harder to reach. We now find out what all that Build Grist is for: To get to the Gate, they need to build the house higher to reach it. And then they can rescue John’s Dad, solve the ultimate riddle, and save the Earth from destruction!

...or not.

Nope, according to Nannasprite, Earth is doomed. Done for. Kaput. There is nothing they can do to save it.

John is pretty bummed about this. He isn’t cheered by Nanna’s assurance that he has a much more important purpose than saving the planet, although she fails to elaborate on that point and instead floats off to make cookies.

CHEL: I think here we earn another couple of points.

HURRY UP AND DO NOTHING: 2 HOW NOT TO WRITE A WEBCOMIC: 11 Failing the Turing Test - wherein the character has no reactions whatsoever While the emotional lives of characters should not be described in their every tiny wrinkle, characters must have emotional lives. When someone boos them off a stage, they should experience chagrin. When they fall from a tenth-storey window, they should feel alarm. The writer should not count on dialogue like “Yikes!” to get the point across.

Brief confusion and feeling “bummed out” by the news that one’s entire planet is doomed does not count as an adequate reaction. I’d expect more fear, more concern. As pointed out before, doesn’t John have any friends other than Dave, Rose, and GG? His Dad has friends, wouldn’t he be concerned for them on Dad’s behalf? If nothing else, more curiosity about this “more important” business?

BRIGHT: Now, I could actually buy this in some circumstances — John is a teenager, doesn’t seem to have close connections outside those we see on screen, and he’s been having one hell of a weird day. I wouldn’t be surprised if grasping the scope of destruction was simply beyond him at this point. It’s a lot to take in, and it’s only been a few hours since life went to hell in a handbasket — not to mention, he’s in an active combat zone. There’s a lot going on, and if he was to shove it out of his mind while he dealt with the immediate crisis, I could see that as pretty realistic.

Of course, that would depend on him actually reacting at some later point, when he had a chance to slow down and it could sink in. As it stands...well, if that does happen, we never see it.

CHEL: Does this also count as “Oh, Don’t Mind Him” for the How Not To score?

BRIGHT: I think so, yes.

CHEL: Then here it goes!

HOW NOT TO WRITE A WEBCOMIC: 12 Oh, Don’t Mind Him - where a character’s problems remain unexplored In real life, people are riddled with chronic problems that are not addressed for long periods of time, if ever. But in fiction, all problems are just the opening chords of a song. If there is a brother who has a problem with alcohol, a child who has lost her dog, or even someone whose car has simply broken down, the reader will worry about those people and expect the author to do something about it.

Technically, this could count for seven billion or so points, minus any people who successfully entered their own game sessions, but we don’t want to get out of hand here and it really only counts as one big problem.

However! I am very fond of this idea in theory. The obvious option would be that the purpose of the game is to save the player’s homeworld. We’ve all seen the “save the homeworld” idea in scifi and fantasy before. Here, the homeworld is beyond saving, but there is another option, and exploring that is the storyline. The forces of light cannot have a traditional victory; the protagonists must find a victory on the terms they have. It’s not a theme one sees often, and I like it.

FAILURE ARTIST: John and the other Beta Kids’ lack of angst of the destruction of their planet doesn’t stick out as much here as it will later when almost everything else is milked for angst.

CHEL: I’m not really sure the planet being destroyed is a great basis for a Rule-of-Funny-based story if that was what he was going for, to be honest. “Billions died, lol!”

[darksiders-scenarios]

Sorry to bother you, but could you do some comfort scenario where the horsemen try to offer advice for a s/o with really crappy brothers? My family is falling apart because my two brothers are cocaine addicts and dont care about anyone :'(

Never a bother. It breaks my heart when I hear about things like that. I wish I could give you the biggest hug.

War

It was late evening and the sun has almost dipped below the horizon. You were sitting on the top step of your porch, staring at the space between your crossed legs. Behind the closed door, you can hear the muffled argument between your brothers and parents. Your fingers curled through your hair, gripping the strands tightly. You heart hammered against your chest, thoughts dangerously shifting to how far you can run away before night befell the area. Your escape plan was interrupted the moment you felt a new presence. Your gaze snapped up and at once, you met piercing blue eyes. War’s eyes were narrowed, his glare burning through you, as though you were an enemy. You instinctively drew slightly into yourself.

"War?" you started, forcing the beginning of a quake in your body to calm down.

"Why are you out here?" his voice was low. "Did they kick you out?"  

You relaxed slightly and shook your head. "No...  nothing like that." His eyes remained cold and disbelieving but you dropped your head, too mentally drained to form an elaborate explanation for the horseman. "I just need to take a breather," you said simply.  The cold wind whipped through the air, slicing through your exposed neck. Your teeth chattered and you crossed your arms over your chest. The autumn air was bitterly cold and you wished you had brought a coat with you. But you didn't want to go back inside. Not right now.

You jumped when you felt something warm wrap around your shoulders. Something red filled your vision before it disappeared, and you felt it being draped over your front. At once, you felt the bitter cold ward off. Curiously, you looked up and you saw War lowering himself to sit beside you. His wispy, platinum hair tumbled over his shoulders and you remarked that his shoulder cloak was missing. You brought your hand to touch the new layer over you. It was soft and warm, and smelled of metal and earth.

War's attention seemed to be fixated on something distant, but you've known him long enough to know that his mind was currently a raging blur. You dragged the cloak tighter around your body and you sat in silence. You closed your eyes and instantly the voices from inside your home increased significantly. Your brothers' protests and aggressive outbursts overlapped your parents' equally incensed rebukes. And here you were, sitting outside, quietly absorbing all the toxicity from the very people who should've been supporting you. The higher their voices mounted, the tighter your chest constricted.

You barely stifled a gasp when you felt a metal hand touch your back. War was standing up, his palm nudging you to follow suit. "Where are we going?" you asked as you got up. "Come," he said simply, already striding ahead. Dragging the cloak more securely around you, you followed him, hobbling lightly due to your muscles adjusting to the abrupt motion. You walked in silence for the first half hour until you somehow ended up in your local park. The autumn leaves crunched beneath your shoes as you both trudged through straight graveled paths lined with deciduous trees. The old swings were swinging to and fro, creaking softly in the light wind. Night has fallen over the land, and through the darkness you felt the cold dread creeping over you like an icy chill, numbing your brain and you finally let your tears flow, reassured in the knowledge that War cannot see them. There is no avoiding it; it was a losing battle with your brothers. Every day that passed was like the timer on a bomb. You couldn't stop-

You started when you felt War place his hand on the small of your back, nudging you to keep up your pace with him. Your head remained down when he steered you through a narrow pathway but your eyes briefly lingered on the flower hedges and bushes that grew around you. The colours were more vibrant during the day but the sight was more serene at night, an antithesis to the raging storm within you. You let your fingers flutter over the soft petals, feeling their coolness caress your skin, temporarily dissolving a little bit of your uneasiness.

But then you felt the dread creep down your spine again until you were almost rooted on the spot. Your breath became more hurried and along came the onslaught of emotions. As if on cue, War coaxed you forward again, this time he kept his hand on your back. His touch slightly soothed the building tension in your stomach and you regained some strength to take a step forward. And another. And another.

The pathway led out to a wide expanse of grass. The moonlight poured through the openings of the dark clouds, a calming shade of midnight blue washing over the wooden benches and solitary water fountain in the centre. The harsh quiver in your hands diminished slightly and the nauseating sensation in your throat vanished as you stared at the stone resin fountain. Approaching the structure, you slowly sat down on the edge, releasing a long breath that you weren't aware that was trapped in your throat. You hugged the thick cloak tighter around yourself in a mockery of a hug, fingers digging into the skin of your arms and you leaned forward, staring at the space between your feet.

War sat beside you and you felt his unnatural warmth envelop you soothingly. Your eyes shifted to the side and you felt fresh tears flow unchecked down your cheeks. "I-I don't know what you do," you choked out at last. Next to you, the horseman removed his gauntlet and cast it to one side before curling his fingers around the back of your head. "You owe them nothing."

You sighed, drawing a hand over your face. "I don't know, War…" your lower lip quivered, "Sometimes I think I'm going mad. Sometimes I wish that I could do more."

"Their lack of willpower and moral fibre should never cause your sanity to be on the line, young one," the words were soft but there was an edge of sternness in his voice.

You turned your head and your eyes met. For a long while, you just stared at each other, the storm within you calming down significantly under his protective gaze. Reaching out, you shyly placed your hand on his knee and at once, the red rider slid his hand from your head to round your back, shifting you till you were pressed to his side. "Would you like to do this again?" he asked.

It took you a moment to realise that he was referring to the little night stroll. You had to admit, distancing yourself from your home helped somewhat. So you smiled, "Yes please."

Death

Your eyes snapped open. It was still dark and the only light source that poured through your windows came from the stars. At once, you felt your chest constrict and your heart palpitate before you even remembered why. Unconsciously, you began chewing your lips; worry gnawing at you the longer you stared at your ceiling.  

“You will break your skin,” Death warned from somewhere in your room. You turned your head to the right. Through the shadows, you made out his large silhouette, kneeling with his back against the side of your bed. The moonlight made his protruding spine appear like the seared end of a blade. When you didn't answer, he tilted his face to the side, his yellow eyes glowing faintly. "You should go back to sleep."

“I… I can’t,” you countered quietly.

‘Of course, you can’t’, Death internally agreed. He could sense your aggrieved soul, pulsating with fear and dread. The closest he could describe it was like navigating through an overpowering fog of exhaustion. Although it displeased him to admit it, he sympathised with you. His hypervigilance over his brothers could be to 'thank' for. Although there were the occasional rifts between his siblings, Death would never question their unwavering loyalty and was confident that they would do little to put the other at risk, as best as they can avoid it that is. But with your situation…

You heard him sigh and you tensed. “Sorry,” you muttered without thinking.

This prompted your supernatural friend to whip his upper torso in your direction. His eyes burned brightly as he stared at you. “Enough with that,” he scolded although his voice held no anger, only a tired annoyance. “It shouldn't be you who should apologise, Y/N.”

You grimaced before turning your head to face the window. Outside, the winter wind was howling, rattling the windows lightly. A near perfect representation of your inner turmoil. The bed shifted and you felt a heavy weight on your mattress, feeling a slight chill beginning to engulf you.

“I’m scared.” The words were barely more than a whisper.

"Of what? Losing them?" it was a rhetorical question and you both knew it, but you nodded anyway, your hair scrapping against the pillow.

“Perhaps you already have, little one,” Death affirmed softly. Your stomach churned sickeningly at his agreement. “Or perhaps, you’ve simply lost the persons they once were.”

You kept staring stubbornly at the window. "I just wish things were the same as before," you protested weakly. You knew it was pointless, that you were only saying it to console yourself. "I think," you fingers curled into fists underneath the blanket. "I hate them sometimes," you gritted out.

"You are embroiled in a situation that you have no control over," Death nodded. "Your anger is justifiable."

The nausea swirled unrestrained in your stomach, dread hanging over you like a black cloud. The stillness of the room was causing you to feel breathless. You pushed yourself up, intending to go to the bathroom but Death instinctively settled his hand on your covered legs from where he sat on the edge.

"It can get ugly and vicious sometimes," you blurted out, staring down at his large hand. "You know how many times we tried to reach out to them," you chuckled grimly. "Too many times I've lost count. But at the same time, they're victims themselves Death…"

"Your family has done enough," Death said. "It is up to your brothers to take responsibility for their actions so that they can rectify their situation."

"It's hard for them."

"They're not children," he retaliated, frowning. "They can recover and it's made possible by knowing that they have a choice to stop," you felt him staring down at you. "Addiction is progressive, little one. Logical, rational thinking will deteriorate. But that is not to say that options are not available to them. They have to make that first step."

Your shoulders slumped and his eyes softened. Your eyes traced the protruding veins and scars on the back of his hand, feeling your throat swell from the mounting pressure of your sadness. At length, you looked at his masked face; his amber eyes were sympathetic and patient. You opened your mouth to formulate a reply but the only sound that escaped was a choked sob. Somehow your fingers were now enclosed around his wrist and were squeezing as hard as though your life depended on it. You lowered your head till your forehead pressed onto his hand. "I wish they did," you whispered, tears spilling down your face at last.

"Enough about them," you felt his other hand rest on your back. "You have to focus on yourself. Learn to detach yourself from the situation. Don't waste your time on anything that does not contribute to your peace."

You nodded weakly and you felt his hand brush your back. "Never once think that you are alone in this fight," he murmured.  

Strife

They were bickering again. No, they weren't your brothers this time. Nor were they your parents. Although you didn't understand a word they were saying, the words were spat out with the ferocity and rapidity of a machine gun. Watching them now was reminiscent to observing your own family falling apart. You gritted your teeth. You were brought here with the intention for your anxiety to calm down, to get away from the mess and commotion at home. Not to further intensify it. The longer the heated exchange carried on, the higher your panic. Finally, you snapped.

"STOP."

Both masked faces whipped in your direction, both assuming defensive stances and hands flying to their weapons. They relaxed when they saw no threat but one of them visibly stiffened upon sighting your crestfallen face. "Y/N?" Strife began, taking a step towards you. You were motionless for a while before you felt the pressure building in your stomach. The shock and embarrassment were etched on your face and before you knew it, you turned away, sprinting out of the room, ignoring Strife calling you from behind.  

It didn't take long for him to catch up to you and you felt his hand clamp down on your shoulder, slowing you down till you halted. "What's gotten into ya?" he asked, concern lacing his voice. You let him turn you around till you were facing him. Behind him, you saw Death approaching, his eyes also shining with concern. You shook your head, internally berating yourself for losing control like that. "I'm sorry. Forget you saw that."

"Like hell I will!" Strife snapped.

"Easy brother," Death's voice rumbled from behind him.

"I know what I'm doing!" Strife barked over his shoulder, but then softer to you, "Was it something I did?"

'Yes', you wanted to say, but that would be selfish and petulant. You cannot drag him further into your family problems when he was clearly dealing with his own here. Catching sight of Death looking at you, you let your gaze fall to your feet. All of a sudden, the place felt too crowded and you were starting to find it difficult to breathe. As though reading your mind, Strife steered you around. You heard him call something to Death in his language before he began walking with you along the corridor.

"It's them again, isn't it," his statement made you stiffen. It wasn't a question. He knew. "Was it that obvious?"

"You've always been obvious," he grunted, making you wince.

Sudden bright yellow light caused you to shield your eyes with your hands. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn't even realise that Strife had directed you out of his home. Before you, the plains stretched like a great quilt of golden, brown and green. You kept walking, passing waterfall cascading over rocks and trees of various hues of brown until you reached a large maple tree. Without warning, Strife placed his hands beneath your arms, eliciting a surprised squeak from you, before he easily lifted you to sit on one of the low hanging branches. The canopy above shielded you from the glaring sunlight.

Strife removed his helmet and tossed it to the ground, before placing both hands on either side of your body. "Sooo…." He began, smirking at you with a teasing glint in his eyes. "Blanket burritos didn't work, putting Death's hair in pigtails didn't work and clearly asking you to envision Valus in a tutu failed… looks like I better think of something else quick."

Try as you did, you almost failed to stifle your giggles. But otherwise, you didn't answer, opting instead to glance at your dangling feet. "Kid…" Strife began, "there's nothing you can do."

You pulled a face. "I know Strife�� I just wish..."

"What?"

"That things were different… before the addiction. Before they started withdrawing from us…," you felt your throat clog," Maybe if I was more assertive. Maybe if I was-"

"Now stop stop stop right there," Strife cut you off, his brows furrowing. "Let's get one thing straight first of all," he jabbed you softly in the stomach. "You are not responsible for their choices and actions. You gotta do what's best for you and let them deal with theirs for once."

You gritted your teeth. "They're slowly killing themselves, Strife," you persisted quietly. "Our family's falling apart and I-"

"Quit with the 'I's," he interrupted you again. "You got nothin' to do with this."

You threw your head back in exasperation. "Strife, I know. I'm tired. Frustrated. Of their lies. Of their everything. But there're my brothers. I can't hate them. Yet at the same time, I don't want to ruin their lives."

"You don't want to ruin their lives," Strife muttered disdainfully. "Well, what about your life huh? Sorry kiddo but I don' like to sugarcoat things. Your brothers are the ones ruining their lives with their own choices. Best thing to do is make changes for yourself," he thunked his forehead softly against yours. "Focus on yourself."

You smiled ruefully, but slowly nodded nonetheless. "Are you talking from experience?" you teased, staring into his maroon eyes. Instead of rebuking to that, Strife only carried staring at you, as though seeing something in you only he could see. A few seconds passed before he cheerily said, "F**k 'em," before nuzzling his forehead into yours.

Fury                                                                                                                        

You grunted when you crashed into the mud again, scratching your arm against the sharp pebbles. Staggering back to your feet, you leveled a glare with the she-horseman's. Hers was the glare of challenge, yours was simply raw anger. Sucking in a sharp breath, you sprinted towards her, right arm flying out and fist ready to strike. Unsurprisingly, Fury was able to dodge and deflect all your attacks with lazy side steps and palm swipes. You punched and struck and kicked but the only thing you managed to hit was air, and this only served to further enrage you.

Fury's heel planted into your stomach and with a swift push, you tumbled back and landed on your backside, once again failing to deliver a single blow on the horseman. Cursing, you barely managed to get back up when a sudden light-headedness caused you to collapse forward. You shut your eyes, hands flying to protect your face as you fast approached the ground. Except it wasn’t the ground you collapsed on. Nor did you even collapse for that matter as you felt Fury's arms encircle you, steadying you back onto your feet.

She took a step back, appraising you. "You're not focusing," she criticised simply. You pressed your lips tightly. "At this rate, you won't last half a day should a lesser demon attack."

"Don't care," you muttered under your breath but Fury's keen hearing was able to pick it up. Eyes squinting, she closed the gap once more, looming over you until you had no choice but to look up. Her gaze was strict but you spotted neither anger nor annoyance in it. "We're here for a reason Y/N," she reminded. "You are no longer on Earth so leave its problems there," she stepped back, readying her fighting stance. "Ground yourself here."

And with that, she ran towards you and you barely had time to block a punch to the face. You both stepped back for a brief second before diving back at each other, fists ready to collide. Despite what Fury said, the scenarios of your brothers wormed their way to your mind, causing your cognition to meltdown.

The blood hummed in your veins as determination and anger took over. Though her blows were more or less painless, it was the contact that infuriated you, each blow was a reminder of your family falling apart. You were determined to persevere. Although it was hard to see the light at the end of this tunnel, you will persevere. You dodged a kick and retaliated with a sloppy one of your own. She easily evaded it but nodded approvingly. "Cease prophesying the unknown," she said, charging at you, the flat of her hand edging closer to your face. It hit your jaw softly and you stumbled back as though it was painful.

Visions of your brothers shouting, lying… endangering their lives. Each memory that surfaced was punctuated in your blows. Harsher and more aggressive. Your eyes were wide but unseeing. You tossed away your wooden stick and charged at Fury, screaming and aiming your fist to her stomach. But redirected it at the last minute to her arm, the force dissolving into a soft press. Your rage slowly melted away. Your vision became blurry and it took you a while to notice the tears streaming down your face.

You stayed that way for a while, both panting, but yours was more erratic and harsh. Your stomach ached and all your muscles were screaming in agony. Fury's hand came to rest on your head and you drew closer into her arms. She held you there, softly stroking your hair and squeezing you gently. "I'm sorry," she murmured. You shook your head, leaning back to meet her gaze. "No… I think… it helped," you panted. "The pressure was building up too much… and this was a practical way to release it," you chuckled weakly. "I'm spending far too much time trying to control something that's beyond my control… I think it's time for me to look after myself."

Fury smoothed your strands. "And you have every right to focus on yourself, sweet one," she brushed a finger along your dirt streaked cheek. "If you don't, then who will?"

[trendingnewsb]

Roseanne Barrs Trump Sounds Great. Shame He Doesnt Exist.

So Roseanne is back and feeling very Trumpy. Quite a journey for someone who sought the Green Party nomination for president 2012.

Or actually, not really. From remarks she made back then to her recent interview in the Times launching the new show, Barr emerges as an exemplar of a very specific type: Shes one of the millions who doesnt care much for actual facts, but absolutely devours every narrative that blames liberals and the Democratic Party for every one of Americas ills.

Back in 2012, she said at a Green Party candidates debate that voters should just leave the Democratic Party and register as Greens. They could still vote for Obama but it would be sending the Democratic Party itself a message it needs to hear.

Its quite true that theres a message the Democrats needed to hear about the pain being felt in left-behind America. Its highly doubtful that the Green Party, easily the most demographically elitist party in the United States, was the right vehicle to deliver it. But that aside, the quote pegs Barr as one of those left-wing types for whom everything bad is liberalisms fault.

Those types often jump from far left to far right, so it wasnt surprising to me in the least when during the campaign she started tweeting and retweeting screeds against Hillary Clinton and saying things like if you dont endorse Hillary, then youre anti-American, a racist, a sexist, or whatever names her robots throw around. More recently, after the congressional softball game shooting last year, she shared a YouTube video that purported to confirm that Steve Scalise was in the same hospital that took out murdered DNC staffer Seth Rich.

Now, in that Times interview, she explains why she thinks the Conners would be Trumpites today. The explanation is built around five observations about life in these United States today and/or criticisms of liberalism. Lets walk through them.

1. She wants the show to be about everything in our country, after which she mentions health care, opioids, and gender-fluid kids.

Okay, Roseanne. Ill circle back to opioids, but on health care: Who passed universal health care? And who tried to repeal it 70 times? And which president and party created a system that has enabled about 18 million people to get health care? And which president was fuming at his Republican Congress failure to undo it? And by the way about 80 percent of those 18 million got coverage because the expansion of Medicaid made coverage affordable for the first time to working-class families. Families who were, in other words, a lot like the Conners.

And on gender-fluid young people maybe I really missed something, Roseanne, but Im pretty sure its Democrats and liberals who are uniformly sympathetic to these youngsters and who try to pass the hated and mocked bathroom bills to honor their gender choice. And Im pretty sure its Republicans (not all of them, but the vast majority of them) who scream that this is Satans work.

On opioids, I cant defend the Obama administration, under which the FDA did nothing about the over-manufacturing and over-prescribing of the drugs. But who wants to bet that the Trump administration is going to do better? The funding in the new budget bill isnt terrible but is way short of whats needed, and Trumps emphasis on treating this as a law-enforcement problem would throw a lot of D.J. Conners (the son in the show) in jail.

2. Rosanne complains about the wars weve been in for a long, long time, and how the swells forget about this but working-class people dont forget because their kids are in it.

Yes, thats correct. And, um, who started these wars? Again, a Republican president started both of them. Yes, many Democrats, including she-who-is-uniquely-evil, voted for them. I think any president would probably have invaded Afghanistan, so its not fair to drop that one on George W. Bush, but Iraq was his baby, and a neocon dream going back to 1991. Not sure, Roseanne, how you pin that one on liberalism, or how you exonerate a president who just hired as his national security adviser a man who still thinks that war was a grand idea.

3. Trump, Rosanne says, favors same-sex marriage: he has said it several times, you know, that hes not homophobic at all.

Thats nice. And completely irrelevant. What matters is not how he feels. What matters is what kind of judges he puts on the federal bench, because thats where same-sex marriage law is established.

Anthony Kennedy voted for same-sex marriage. It was a 5-4 vote. Suppose Kennedy retires (rumors are currently flying around Washington). What kind of judge will Trump nominate to succeed him? In all likelihood, one a lot more like Neil Gorsuch than Kennedy. Supreme Court precedents can be overturned, you know. And conservatives are itching to see that decision overturned someday. And Trump has already been stacking the lower courts with anti-LGBT judges. You, Roseanne, can find all this out in about two minutes by Googling it.

And then of course you might stop for another two minutesno; 30 seconds!and realize that President Clinton would be putting pro-same-sex marriage judges on the Supreme Court and all federal benches. But that doesnt matter, I guess, next to your righteous anger at her cheerleaders in the media.

4. The Times Patrick Healy asked her about Trump and labor unions. Here, I cant improve upon the transcript:

Healy: What about labor union protections and blue-collar workers, and

Barr: What do you mean, theoh, lets not get into this.

Barrs representative, apparently also present: You dont have to get into it. We can move on.

5. That having not gone well, she moves on to trade and NAFTA. Well, I think working-class people were pissed off about Clinton and NAFTAThats what broke all the unions, and we lost all our jobs

Im no defender of NAFTA, but its not what broke unions. Roseanne, remember the air-traffic controllers strike? Who fired them? Which party was he in? The private sector quickly followed Ronald Reagans example and started replacing workers. Any kind of worker, it seemed, was vulnerable to replacement if they went out on strike, and the psychological impact of that, I think, was huge, Georgetown historian Joseph McCartin told NPR. The loss of the strike as a weapon for American workers has some rather profound, long-range consequences.

Look, Roseanne can run whatever kind of show she wants. I think its pretty obvious that Dan (John Goodman) would have been a Trump voter; then again its demographically quite likely that Dan would have been a Reagan-Reagan-Bush-Dole-Bush-Bush-McCain-Romney voter (although some such men voted Democratic in 1996 and 2008 in particular). I think its unlikely that the Roseanne Conner of the old show, a roaring feminist with all those gay and lesbian co-workers and friends, would have voted against the first woman major-party candidate. But its her show.

But really. The things you profess to care about, Roseanne, are the things the Democratic Party has been trying to do something about, and the Republican Party has been trying to block. Those facts have been overwhelmed by narratives that sound like they explain everything and that feed some emotional need inside the people who embrace them.

But someone loses when rich television stars who dont have to worry about their health care are the ones doing the embracing, and theyre the people whose interests she says shes representing.

Read more: https://www.thedailybeast.com/roseannes-donald-sounds-great-shame-he-doesnt-exist

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