#oak: hey cool so apparently the world is round now

[roach-works]

pokemon theory i just thought of: new pokemon appear in the pokemon universe when they're designed in this one. they're created ex nilho but they have retroactive realness; they weren't here yesterday, but today they've always existed.

pokemon researchers have had to suss this out on their own over decades, and it's a really unpopular theory, made worse by the fact that no one can come up with a better one. from their perspective pokemon generate spontaneously but in both chronological directions, and the similarities of many pokemon seem to be detived from a conscious and creative understanding of the world--their world, though? what other world could there be?. there are ice cream pokemon and pokeball pokemon and sword pokemon and trash bag pokemon.

there are so many pokemon with both wings and a beak. is this like swords? is there an ur-flying type that this class evokes? there are so many canine pokemon. but what is a canine? is there such a thing? there's only one set of sword pokemon, right. one tea-set line. is *feline* a coherent category? would the ur-feline have two legs or four? why do so many pokemon have humanlike bodyplans-- but then again, why so few?

pichu has always been the prior form of pikachu. why didn't it get counted in order? why do we call it that instead of saying pikachu is the middle evolution of the pichu line? why can so many trainers remember finding this out well into their journeys? why didn't ash start with one?

this is why pokemon researchers do a lot of labwork, drink heavily, and use ten year olds for field research. you can't have an existential crisis if you don't even know what time is yet.

[mostlyvoidpartiallysmog]

Just finished the second Night Vale novel It Devours! that I got my hands on when I got a hold of my pre-order yesterday. (So sue me. College strike up here gave me some free time)

So some thoughts?

BIIIIG SPOILERS obviously.

Firstly I’d just like to say that I LOVE the ending. Specifically I love the way the relationship between Nilanjana and Darryl ends. GOD that was so refreshing! Honestly their relationship felt rushed and empty anyway and it was SO fucking nice to see a realistic potential end to a new adult relationship.

In regards to the early parts of the relationship? The writing seemed to have a preoccupation with kisses and lips that squicked me more then anything, but I’ve never been a big kissing person in general so maybe it’s just that.

The sex mentioned, especially with how explicitly they did so, kind of felt... I’m just going to say it, a little annoying? *sigh* Now I get that there aren’t too many places where even this minor level of detail and frankness about sex could come up, but seeing what felt like the first slightly more explicit handling of it then like, Carlos jokingly getting turned on by science or some such as the podcast has done (Not counting the semi-obscure and one time live show they recently did of course. Night Vale after dark I THINK it might have been called? With Cecil and Dylan reading some nsfw content?) what felt like the first more explicit handling went to... well a hetero sex scene and, eh, call me a bitter queer but like, ANY thing else would have felt more interesting. Idk, I was just rather meh about the whole thing.

Oh and well I’m at it, “Sex in Night Vale take’s a little longer, but when it starts it happens much like anywhere else.” also felt kind off to me. Just picky queer sex positive feminist things I guess. It ain’t a big thing, but if anyone else had written it I’d be rolling my eyes going “yo there’s more then one way to fuck my hetero dude friend. It’s not all about cis ass, able bodied penis in vaginal sex.) but again, that’s just me being picky as SHIT because I, to be frank, expect a heckuva lot from Night Vale what with them consistently delivering for 3 year (Specifically how long I’ve been listening I mean. Don’t recall how many year’s they’ve been around in general.)

Also like, the lead up TO the sex was weird? We had a window into both their heads but at no point were we lead to believe they were physically particularly attracted to each other before the sex? It jumped from “maybe he’s kind of cute” to fucking? Like give us a few bits of her (preferably her because fuck yes not shying away from female sexuality) eyes getting caught on his body or some overt desire or something. Direct us to something that says “physical” attraction. (and let’s REALLY not have it be a possessive stereotype about her getting jealous over some female friend of his and taking it out by getting touchy feely with a guy she barely knows for that matter) It just felt really flat. Really lacking it what should have been easy build up. Minor build up, because sex can absolutely and should absolutely be shown sometimes as something human, and pleasant, and potentially just chill and fun to do, but like, we have an internal view of their heads, as such we should have seen SOME small nudge of physical attraction before hand. Some tug. Don’t give the audience nothing and then expect them to buy a relationship that, as it turns out in the end, was largely just based on good/fun sex.

Um, also; IF anyone else had written that whole “let’s cosign forms and get blood work done, lol look how long this is taking” pre-sex bit, then I honestly would have taken it as a “consent is a mood breaker and millennials are prudish idiots ruining sex with their safe sex and their checks for consent.” Idk. That joke felt a little off the mark. Just me being picky again.

Another thing? Nilanjana is fat! Yaaay! That was unexpectedly cool! (Would have preferred if they had said “fat” versus “overweight”. Fat’s not a dirty word, being fat isn’t a reflection on your morals and all that, but hey, not everyone is up with the latest fat acceptance stuff I guess. But like, “over” weight. Over whose weight? Over what supposed perfect weight? Is that supposed to be your short hand for “doesn’t exercise” ‘cause those sure as hell aren’t inherently connected. Correlation doesn’t equal causation. Pbthhh. >.>)

Speaking of being picky, or maybe this was just a very clever sign that Darryl and Nilanjana’s relationship wouldn’t work out in the long term, did Nilanjana REALLY have to get so jealous and competitive with Stephanie? Did she have to instantly dislike and distrust her because of “the way Darryl looked at her”? Because to recap that made all the women in the book in relation to Nilanjana, judgemental, shallow, and foolish (Lusia), cold, untrustworthy, and naive (Stephanie. “Naive” because of her religion in Nilanjana’s books and soooort of by the narrative as well), literally just a world threatening zealous cultist (Munn), or a goofy, initially untrustworthy sidekick (Jamillah).

I mean even Josh Crayton got better billing in this round then either his mum or Jackie who got tiny cameo’s each. =/ I would have liked to see more of those two.

While we’re on the subject of female characters. NIGHT VALE PLEASE. PLEASE give us some more background or remotely confirmed wlw!!! Jeeze. Seriously! We got another random background guy, or at least person getting refereed to with he/him pronouns who got a boyfriend, (The helicopter fellow) and though we already knew Josh was bi/pan otherwise not straight, he got a briefly mentioned boyfriend in this one! And of course the show focus is always Cecil and Carlos which racks the points waaay up for amazing, awesome mlm representation. We DID get a tiny cameo from Basimah Bashara which was neat, and a small moment with Michael Nguyen, but that’s the thing with those two and wlw in Night Vale in general isn’t it? While one can... hope? Somewhat with evidence? That Maureen and Michael might be a couple now, might be positive wlw representation, that was never actually made super clear. (Looking back on it it WAS made super clear with Basimah, so good on them with that!)

There’s also Jackie and Sheriff Sam. I HAVE to say, I was absolutely PREYING Jackie and Dana got together when Jackie mentioned she was dating someone from “high up in the government” so the let down I felt from finding out it was Sam instead came mostly from that. =p (Give Dana a girlfrieeend. Sure there’s always Alice Isn’t Dead but that ain’t the same. =p) Sam uses they/them pronouns and we can probably safely assume from that that they’re meant to be NB, genderqueer, genderfuild, or otherwise just not a cis character, so that’s wonderful, and Jackie dating them pretty much pings her as some variety of queer (or at least queer friendly, but then the majority of Night Vale is.) as well, so that’s also neat! I dooon’t think we had that from her before? Maybe there was something in the first book I’m forgetting. (I am personally mad happy that Jackie is queer or at least chill with nb folk, as she reminds me of myself in way too many ways. Awkward high-fives and “dude’s” and all.) That being said, how old is Sheriff Sam? I always pictured them at like 40 something from the voice. >.> Lol apparently not.

So on a more world building, less representation based note; Kevin.

Kevin is a prophet in the churches lore apparently. That’s neat? I guess? Here’s the thing, when WAS the Joyous Congregation founded? And my main concern; when did Kevin go through the Old Oak Door that showed him the smiling god for the first time??? The Congregation, or at least the general concept of the religion of the smiling god seems fully formed back during the Strex arc, and more then that Kevin hasn’t (as far as we know. Also please Finknor give us more Kevin. Triptych Broke. My. Heart. and I’m begging you.) been back to Night Vale or otherwise out of the desert other world since the time Steve pushed him in at the end of the Strex arc.

I don’t WANT to think that Kevin founded the whole religion. It’s always seemed very much like a thing that existed before him and more importantly not a thing he did before Strex!him if you will, but who knows I guess. =/

That’s the thing. I always thought of the smiling god AS ENTIRELY a Strex concept, and I’m going to wager a guess that at least at the start Finknor did too. It’s so tied into Strex. Inseparable from Strex’s meaning and purpose. Smile. Work. Be empty. Pretend to be happy. Smiling IS Strex, it’s a Strex thing, so it kind of made me feel... like it felt a bit rewrite-y to not even mention Strex at all during this book?

I mean was the smiling god NOT behind Strex? Was the congregation not at least back a couple years ago indistinguishable from Strex? Idk. These are all questions I have.

Talking about things that feel rewrite-y, I’m not sure I did the idea of Carlos actually being in the desert other world for TEN YEARS. Here’s the thing. We were, at the very least, as the audience lead to believe that Cecil and Carlos were thinking of LIVING there. Of moving there. a MASSIVE freaking part of the Carlos in the desert other world arc had us second guessing Carlos and Cecil’s whole relationship ffs! That WAS the subtext of the arc! The purpose! That Carlos seemed more interested in science and research of the desert other world then getting back to freaking Cecil! And now you’re going to claim that not only was he there ten years, which we had NO foreshadowing of during the arc at ALL as far as I can see, but he only ever wanted desperately to get home? Again the twist at the end of the desert other world arc is Cecil unexpectedly NOT MOVING THERE. WHAT? Nah man. That was some silly re-write stuff right there. Contradicting what world building we have on the desert other world until now.

Another thing highly related to that? Where the fuck was the nomadic giant army?? Or hell, even just Kevin and that dumb roller coaster they built? (I GUESS you could say that they all... died... ? And the roller coaster... vanished completely? But nah. Not really because aging doesn’t work there now does it?) Doug and Elisha thanks? Yet more stuff that made Carlos seem at home (and for that matter time passing relatively similarly from the sort of relationships he formed and reported on) in the desert other world. Ugh. I really don’t like that whole ten years thing. It seemed excessive too. Like two or even three years would have been more believable from what we saw of Carlos during that time, and even with only the single year I could already understand Carlos being traumatized from the event. Idk.

Speaking of world building for the desert other world? Assuming we keep with previous would building regarding it we are NOT done with it yet. Or rather, we probably shouldn’t be. There’s WAY too much going on there. Kevin’s still in there, he named it DESERT BLUFFS ffs. (I’m still waiting for the day we get the plot twist that the other world IS the desert bluffs we know from the past or something very similar to that. I also noticed a hella conspicuous absence of talk about desert bluffs OR the desert other world during the Huntokar revelations of the last finished arc. That place is MAD secret to the point that it’s not even on the radar of Huntokar, and probably The Glow Cloud, Distant Prince, Woman from Italy and other elder god type things.)

Then there’s Dana’s drawings up on the mountain. The spiraling murals of triangles I believe it was? We are NOT done with that place. I know at the end Darryl is like “well maybe the smiling god wasn’t that stupid centipede” and we’re supposed to at least sort of think like Nilanjana and be like “Yea huh. Sure. You just want to think that to protect your beliefs.” but honestly yeah, I don’t remotely think the centipede was really... the smiling god? Unless like I said, Kevin started the religion all together which I very much hope he didn’t? So yea, probably not the smiling god, DEFINITELY not the biggest threat in the desert other world. Up until now the “light” trying to get into Night Vale has been really obtuse and obscure. Really vague and therefore menacing and cool. I don’t think Finknor are bad enough writers to just toss all that away on a giant centipede. I’m a cynical person. Usually I’d add “At least I hope not” to that sentence, but damn it all if I don’t KNOW that Finknor are better writers then that.

Also there was the whole “hey wait the “ritual” to summon the god probably wasn’t just a coincidence” idea dropped in there to explore. So yeah. Lot’s to look at still.

Speaking of the ritual? Did you guys caaaaatch iiiiiit??? The jumping. How frantic jumping was a big part of the ritual? Maybe I’m just reaching but it sounded SO much like Kevin’s narration jumping bit from way back in The Sandstorm that Cecil mirrors with his own narration bit in his episode.

I’m SOOOO glad we got a glimpse into additional meaning for that kid jumping trying to recapture the feeling of flight scene for Kevin. It would be cool if more meaning was discovered for it in the future.

I’ve always read Cecil’s retrospective kid scene in those episodes as maybe relating too whatever happens in Cassette Tapes, or maaaybe some weird shit with Kevin himself in a metaphorical or otherwise obscured reference to why the heck the whole doubles thing happens anyway. (Also again, doubles, Desert bluff weirdness. Another thing I attributed to possibly the smiling god that could definitely not be if it were just a centipede, but honestly whether it’s a centipede or not I think it would be much more interesting if the smiling god was only a corrupting force for Desert bluffs and not the “weird Night Vale thing” that causes them to exist in the first place. And like I said? What’s cool is that it seems to not be Huntokar’s fault either that Desert Bluffs exists so that’s neat. That mean’s there’s some other weird shit going on there for us to find out.)

Ok one thing I forgot about the time rules of the desert other world and Kevin? You don’t AGE in the desert other world. Kevin when he contact Cecil in the last section of Triptych say’s he is very old. Now he could mean ancient as in “lived a very long time” but he specifically says “very old” and seems like his health might even me failing. Certainly he puts on a different voice. Anyway, all that leading up to the theory that we can extrapolate from that that Kevin will escape the desert other world at some point. Which isn’t too much of a stretch, and I think we all kind of expected (and I desperately hoped for after Triptych tyvm. FFS Cecil if you know how he ends up and also what he used to be like why not GO SAVE KEVIN FROM THAT FATE! Jeeze man! I really wish that had been part of the arc following Triptych and genuinely thought it might be. Like please. Cecil how can you just leave him there???)

All and all I liked the first novel a LOT more, but I liked this novel. Heck if it it wasn’t from Night Vale crew, meaning I had kind of hyped standards for it already, it probably would have been super awesome.

I mean there were some parts of the first novel I didn’t like, and I’m feeling some similar feelings regarding how the smiling god and desert other world turned out looking a bit mundane in this story and left a lot of “but if they were really just this, then why this old plot point” feelings just like the Man in the Tan Jacket did last novel (WHY was he interested in the underground city damn it? Especially with what we now know about Huntokar? WHY was he working with the Apache Tracker? What the hell were they doing? What was the post office all about?) but all and all I still preferred the first novel to this one. It felt more... human I guess. Had that good good recognizable story about a mom and her kid, growing up, parents, relationships, becoming an adult and a helluva lot of other stuff. Not that this one didn’t have a neat story about religion and science (that part honestly felt a little too basic for me) and fitting into one’s communities (that part was alright) but the first novel just hit the right cords more. Personally at least I felt more attached to everyone AND enjoyed the treatment of the themes more. Idk exacccctly why, but I absolutely enjoyed the first novel way more. It felt more like it’s own entity. A valid reason to use a different medium. A really new and cool thing where we could step into the shoes of likeable, fully rounded characters. This novel felt a lot more like a sometimes wacky one off live show with new characters or something. =/ I still enjoyed it, but not as much, and mostly the parts I did enjoy were all humor and surreal Night Vale goodness.

Alright. Well. That ends my rambling for now. I’m sure I’ll have many instances of trying to get to sleep and thoughts of the novel bouncing around in my head begging me to write them down or otherwise talk about them, so I guess I gotta emphasize the “for now” part.

This is long as shit and I’d be mildly surprised and utterly flattered if anyone can make it through my rambling.

[desuchine]

Divulging Peculiarities

Chapter 1 of ? (Projected to be about 6 chapters) Pairing: England/France Rating: T Summary: 'Silently, he prayed that no one would come to fill the empty room next to his. He entertained the thought of them converting it into another utility space, perhaps a convenient spot for another copier or scanner.'In which Francis occupies the office next to Arthur, and the two engage each other in fascinating ways.

Alt. Reading: AO3 Link 

The space opposite of his office has remained comfortingly empty for the past few weeks. Its former occupant was the chatty type, who more often than not had a phone glued to their ear, and the conversations of which he overheard certainly didn’t allude to any customer calling about an insurance claim. It wouldn’t have been so awful, if not for how much it impeded his ability to think.

No matter how familiar the forms nor the ingrained motor skills it took to navigate a customer’s information, the migraines associated with the constant, loud babble of his workmate’s chatter more often than not ended with Arthur yanking himself free of his desk to fetch a cuppa. Too polite to rain down a wrath of artfully placed curse words, and too short-fused to endure it for extended periods of time led to an annoying stalemate with his options. He chose avoidance, in the end. Best not to jeopardize his job security by pummeling his next door neighbor.

The silence following his former coworker’s release (and really, he wonders what brought that along) came as a soothing balm to nerves that were too frayed and high strung. The weeks succeeding the vacation of the next door office eased the bone-white tendons that often stuck out against Arthur’s hands. The keys of his keyboard must have let out a figurative sigh, no longer the victim of anger he couldn’t bring himself to direct at the perpetrator. His breaks sank back into their regular conformity.

Silently, he prayed that no one would come to fill the empty room next to his. He entertained the thought of them converting it into another utility space, perhaps a convenient spot for another copier or scanner.

The rush to complete the growing pile of documents he’d missed during his outings had Arthur exhausting his workload within a few days. It wasn’t often that he found himself staring around his office with a vacant expression, drumming his fingers impatiently against the cherry oak of his desk, and not a single manilla folder in sight! He should consider himself lucky, he thinks, but mostly, he’s just terribly bored.

There sat, in the far upper corner, a mostly unused television set that seemed to be older than its brethren by at least a decade. A fine layer of dust coated its top and stuck to its screen, tinting the black surface a soft brown if one were to look at it at the right angle. It’d obviously seen more use before Arthur had come to inhabit this office space. He grimaced, noting that he’d have to take a duster to it soon.

Fishing into the right drawer of his desk, he procured the matching remote to it, flicking the television on with a press while its screen crackled to life (and isn’t that static just lovely, he thinks). The picture quality was lacking a few hundred pixels, with a color scheme that suggested some devious person had literally sucked the saturation out of it. Or perhaps it was just age and not another idiom conjured up by his mind.

The channels came in clear enough, though the only one that seemed remotely interesting to him was the news. Tossing the remote on his desk and leaning back with his cup of tea - which had begun to cool more than his liking - Arthur absorbed the ongoings of the world around him.

“-of which there will be meetings to discuss the new regime soon. In other news, blood donations are seen to be on the rise, with more and more donors coming forward in the wake of the many drives taking place around London. Statistics point towards a steadier supply for the vampire populace, and experts say that blood-related crime should be expected to decrease over the next few months. We’ve got analysts standing by to discuss the matter… but after this break.”  

The camera cut away from the anchor, segwaying into a commercial about insurance; of which the irony was not lost on Arthur. Taking a sip of his tea, and then grimacing subsequently because it was much too cool , he let his minder wander. Idly, his thoughts drifted to the local blood drive located just a few blocks away from his home. He entertained the idea of perhaps dropping by later to donate, though a wince followed that thought, because that obviously meant needles. Urgh.

When he was younger, the nurses had written down in his record that he was prone to passing out and becoming sick during bloodwork. He faintly remembers burying his head into the crook of his mother’s shoulder while the nurse slid the needle into his vein, and the violent vertigo and sinking feeling in his stomach that had him calling out for the trashcan just seconds later. When he had come to, at least three of them had been standing over him, with one laughing nervously about how his lips had turned blue and his skin had gone ghastly white.

Of course, that was then, when he was barely old enough to consider himself a teenager. He’d had another set of bloodwork done on him recently, a precautionary step taken since his mother’s side had a history of diabetes. He’d fared just fine then, though the initial poke still had his skin crawling and his stomach nearly flopping.

While his thoughts lingered on needles and blood, the news had apparently resumed its programming. Now the screen was split into three sections, with a person occupying each and debating heatedly about the current ‘feeding’ situation. Quietly, Arthur sipped his tea as he listened to their droning voices, his eyes flitting between the three analysts; an elderly man berating the government for its more humane treatment of the alternate species, a pale-skinned man with striking gold eyes tearing into the former’s accusations, and a middle-aged woman playing auspistice between the two parties.

It was easy to pick out the anomaly among them. Porcelain skin, faintly blue branching veins near his temples and neck, ears that didn’t have the familiar round curve near the cartilage, and the subtle show of canines that were one-too-many sharp. Arthur found himself listening less to the overlapping arguing and moreso studying the peculiarities of the vampire.

As his mind drifted into theories and technicalities, a quick rap of knuckles sounded at his door. His office always remained open, unless he was servicing customers, so the head that peeked around the frame of his door was expected. Meeting his green eyes was a set of blue ones, and a white smile that contrasted against the tan skin of his face.

“Hey, Artie. You hear the news?” Alfred stepped around the corner, a pastel, plastic box held against his hip as he beamed expectantly at Arthur.

“That depends, Alfred,” Arthur murmured quietly, the rim of his cup hiding his mouth as he spoke. “There’s a lot going on right now. Could you perhaps try being less vague?”

“What, and spoil the surprise? Nah. And what else is happening that I don’t know about?” Alfred readjusts the box against his hip, its sleek surface sliding down the smooth leather of his jacket. The fur lining his wear is damp, unsurprisingly, as early winter London had been assaulted with rain lately. Freezing, ice cold rain.

Arthur wondered how Alfred made it as a delivery man in these conditions. “I would ask how often you watch the news, but I’m afraid I already know the answer.”

“Eh, occasionally. Lotta arguing and nonsense, so I try to stay away from it. Brings my mood down.” The answer makes Arthur’s teacup pause in its ascent to his lips, but only briefly. He shakes his head as he finishes the rest of his tea, his nose scrunching up at the last, cold remnants. “But anyway, I figure I’ll go ahead and tell you.” He nods his head towards the empty office across the wall, which has Arthur immediately stilling and fixing him with a wary gaze. “You got yourself a new neighbor!”

“Oh,”  Arthur finds himself uttering, though it quickly follows with a repeat that serves as more of a groan. “Oh. Lovely.”

“Now listen,” Alfred begins, catching the abysmal tone in the Brit’s voice. “I know all about your old neighbor woes, yeah? But I’ve actually talked to his guy.” Arthur raises his head, and Alfred quickly tacks on. “I’m helping bring his stuff up right now, in fact. He’s a big material type, but he’s pretty nice. Charismatic, even. We talked the entire way over.”

“And you’ve deduced all of this in a single meeting?”

“I’m a delivery man, Artie. My whole deal is being able to talk to people. I gotta read them, y’know? ‘Hey, this guy’s an asshole, so be really direct and short with him.’ Or ‘Hey, this lady looks really sad, so try to say something to cheer her up, yeah?’ This new guy’s a charmer. I think even you’ll like him.”

Despite his suspicions, Arthur finds himself smirking at the implications. “Did he try to woo you or something?”

“What? No, no… I mean, maybe? But I didn’t really feel that whole vibe. If he did, I think he backed off after he realized I wasn’t interested. Or maybe that's reading too much into it. Ugh, look at what you’ve done, you old crank.”

“I’m only five years older than you, you sod.”

“Everyone knows that twenty and twenty-five are like… night and day. You’re basically almost middle-aged.”

That prompts Arthur to roll his eyes. “Your views of my life expectancy are dismal, you know.”

At that, Alfred’s smile slides back into place. “Crankiness is a terminal disease, man. It’s stated to repel at least a hundred people a year. Crazy how science works.”

Arthur hums, bemusedly, a small noise of recognition. He slides his hand over to his drawer, seemingly in the process of fishing something out before he retracts his hand, only to reveal his middle finger to be raised. “Ah, yes. I thought I left your invitation around here. And here it is! Your invitation to fuck right off .”

Instead of taking it personally, Alfred just laughs, his figure hunching slightly as his free hand clutches at his stomach. He seems to wipe a tear away before making a finger gun at Arthur. “Alright, alright. You got me good there. I’ll give that one to you. But hey, for real. The guy should be on his way up anytime. Think he’s down on the first floor, taking care of formalities or something. I’ve gotta finish moving his stuff up, so don’t be a stranger, yeah? Make a truce or something.”

“You know I only burn bridges.” Arthur remarks.

“That’s how I know you’re actually British.”

Alfred slinks away, across to the other side of the hall. Arthur gives a roll of his eyes, his fingers coming to play with the rim of his teacup as the room goes silent once more, save for the droning television. As time passes, he catches himself listening to the rest of the insurance building intensely, every creak in the floor or opening door fueling his anticipation. Alfred said his new neighbor would be charming, but then again, his and Alfred’s expectations of charming were seemingly polar opposites.

He sees Alfred’s signature jacket cross the mouth of his door various times. Each trip has him returning with more gaudy boxes, more colorful trinkets that would otherwise seem out of place in an office. It’s not as if he shuns decoration or personalization of the workplace. Arthur has quite a few knick knacks lying around himself; ranging from primitives customized with snarky phrases and sayings, to the spare teaset he keeps in the glass case on the far wall. Even his writing utensils are packed with personality, some mimicking the designs of old fountain pens. He even has customized parchment meant to resemble those of the old Victorian era.

It’s aesthetic , and he respects that.

However, a set of wine glasses? In the workplace? The social implications are enough to have him balking. Was he going to be working with an alcoholic? Not to mention the floral desk covers, or even the silken curtains that he spied moving into the room. How much did one need before their office became less of a workspace and more of a home lounge? Whoever his new coworker was, they were certainly… well, avant garde.

While Arthur is busy formulating reasonable answers to his own questions, he misses the streak of long, tied back blonde hair that flashes across his peripheral. Only the sound of Alfred’s voice calling out has him refocusing on the office next door, though he can only see Alfred from his doorway.

“I think that about does it! I got a lot of the heavier stuff up here, but I didn’t try to situate them anywhere. Didn’t wanna mess with your, uh… feng shui or whatever.”

Arthur finds himself leaning forward, his hands bracing themselves on the lip of his desk as he tries to listen more clearly.

“Oh, non, this is magnifique. Merci. Your work is appreciated!”

“Hey, cool stuff! Well, I guess I’ll leave you to it then. Gonna pop by Artie’s and say goodbye.” There’s a pause, and then very harsh and suspiciously loud whispering from Alfred. “I swear, he doesn’t bite. But the guy’s got this cold shoulder vibe. You just gotta get to know him.”

“Oh? I will take your word, then.”

Arthur is relaxing back into his chair by the time Alfred peaks into his office again, seemingly straightening the lapels of his jacket and eyeing his computer screen with feigned interest. “I’m heading out!” The blonde flashes him a wave of his gloved hand, and promptly disappears before Arthur can get a single word out.

“Don’t crash your bloody lorry!” He calls out, his voice carrying down the hallway. The echo of Alfred’s laugh reaches him faintly. It’s with a sigh that he deflates, resting his arms against the sides of his office chair. He spares his workspace a quick onceover, before reaching for the remote to shut the television off.

There’s audible shuffling and tampering happening from the newly occupied office space next door, but nothing terribly distracting or grating to his nerves. There’s the soft tapping of footsteps, and then, after a short while, the pleasant humming of his new coworker as he (at least Arthur assumes it’s a man, even with a voice so operatic) sets to work on unpacking his things. He imagines that if it were the office’s old inhabitant, the humming would have had drove him absolutely mad, but there’s something undeniably cordial about it, captivating even.

Even as Arthur checks his email to find newer documents to fill out, the humming serves as a quaint background noise, something to help him through the lull of work as the afternoon progresses. By the time his office grew dim with the early winter night, he’d found himself memorizing the loops and chorus of the stranger’s song, tapping his fingers gently against his mouse as he concluded the last bit of today’s work.

As he’d leant over to flick off his lamp while his computer went through the motions of shutting down, he’d momentarily turned his head enough to peak across the hallway. There, greeting him, was his new coworker’s desk, facing the doorway and boasting a fancier and pricier computer than his own. Mindless of his manners at the moment, he’d been content to wait and stare as the task manager prompted him once more about saving his data before shutting the computer off.

A light, lavender blouse covered mostly by a cream colored cardigan came into view as the man across the hallway bent over his desk, straightening its items to perfection as the tone of his song winded down. Shoulder length blonde hair eclipsed the curve of his jawline, though the majority of it seemed to be held in place by a silken tie. Even from here, Arthur could make out a dusting of fine, groomed facial hair. It’s light color would have contrasted against anyone’s face if not for how strikingly pale the man was.

Mouse all but forgotten and left hovering over the ‘shut down anyway’ tab, Arthur rested his cheek against his hand, unashamedly eavesdropping from afar until he could get a better look at the newcomer’s face. It was one of those menial curiosities that didn’t mean much of anything, but he’d feel better knowing he got a good look at the other before heading home tonight. If his items didn’t explain him very clearly, then maybe his physical traits would. Arthur would know what to expect when he came in tomorrow morning.

After long, dragging minutes of anticipation, the man had finally decided to step around his desk, his back facing Arthur for only a moment before he promptly seated himself. Even then, the monitor of his computer served as yet another obstacle, and Arthur actually found himself grimacing over the matter.

Just as he was about to call it a fruitless effort, his new coworker would rise from his seat just a bit, so that his eyes were peeking over the top of his computer. Arthur’s computer gave a last, final hum of power as he finally gave it permission to shut off, but not before he’d caught the other’s gaze with his own.

Their line of sight remained in sync for a few long seconds, with Arthur taking note that the man’s eyes were blue, and ungodly almost. A shade you’d see more on someone photoshopped in a magazine than someone standing face to face with you. If Alfred’s eyes were blue, then there needed to be a new word to describe the shade of this man’s eyes. At least, Arthur thought so.

Seeming to notice his intent staring, the newest occupant of the office would lean slightly over, enough to reveal the rest of his face. It was here that Arthur decided that the pigmentation of his skin was truly pallid, and not just a trick of the overhead light. However, it was far from unhealthy looking. Oh, no. In fact, it was almost… strikingly handsome, if Arthur had to be perfectly honest. Otherwordly in all the right ways. The only blemishes he could make out were the slight shadows lining the bottom of his eyes, but even then, it almost appeared as if someone had purposely airbrushed them on. Angular jawline, thin, pointed nose… they were all qualities that would have anyone sweating after a bit.

This was from a distance, mind you. He paled to think of what the man was like at close proximity. It had him swallowing thickly, finding his throat to be dry despite having not been thirsty just a few minutes ago.

The distant silence must have grown to be uncomfortable between them, because now the man had raised his hand and was sending a small wave towards Arthur’s office. His lips spread into a friendly smile, of which soon became a toothy grin as Arthur awkwardly returned the gesture in the form of a half-hearted nod of recognition.

The man seemed to laugh at that, and it was here that Arthur’s attention was snagged the hardest. The man’s head had tilted back just enough, baring a good portion of not only his throat, but the seemingly perfect, white teeth he had as well. His front teeth were blunt and aligned, but the next two sets of teeth proceeding them grew sharp and glinting. Quad spires of needle sharp utensils designed for breaking flesh apart easily. Arthur had seen these before in the mouths of waiters and cashiers and even some of his clients. He’d seen it on the news today, during the heated discussion of how ethical it was for the government to be feeding their kind .

Breaking his gaze away from the office across the hall, he’d reach down to grab the strap of his messenger bag, hauling it over his shoulder and hastily pushing his seat into his desk. In his haste to vacate his office, his foot would tangle haphazardly with a spare cord running across the room, nearly sending him sprawling into the glass case holding his teaset.

A few hefty swears would leave him as he yanked his foot free, scuffing the rug up and earning a frustrated growl as he used his foot to spread it flat once more. From the other side of the hall, he could hear faint laughing, breathy noises that suggested the perpetrator was trying to muffle it somewhat.

Face flushing and skin prickling with annoyance, Arthur would stomp away from his workspace, shoving his phone into his pocket and clocking out with just a bit too much vigor, earning the concerned stares of his other coworkers as he pushed past the revolving doors of the firm.

What a lovely first impression, he thinks.

[bwabbitv3s]

Or time travel! Which has actually happened more that once in provable ways.

pokemon theory i just thought of: new pokemon appear in the pokemon universe when they're designed in this one. they're created ex nilho but they have retroactive realness; they weren't here yesterday, but today they've always existed.

pokemon researchers have had to suss this out on their own over decades, and it's a really unpopular theory, made worse by the fact that no one can come up with a better one. from their perspective pokemon generate spontaneously but in both chronological directions, and the similarities of many pokemon seem to be detived from a conscious and creative understanding of the world--their world, though? what other world could there be?. there are ice cream pokemon and pokeball pokemon and sword pokemon and trash bag pokemon.

there are so many pokemon with both wings and a beak. is this like swords? is there an ur-flying type that this class evokes? there are so many canine pokemon. but what is a canine? is there such a thing? there's only one set of sword pokemon, right. one tea-set line. is *feline* a coherent category? would the ur-feline have two legs or four? why do so many pokemon have humanlike bodyplans-- but then again, why so few?

pichu has always been the prior form of pikachu. why didn't it get counted in order? why do we call it that instead of saying pikachu is the middle evolution of the pichu line? why can so many trainers remember finding this out well into their journeys? why didn't ash start with one?

this is why pokemon researchers do a lot of labwork, drink heavily, and use ten year olds for field research. you can't have an existential crisis if you don't even know what time is yet.

[lanibgoode]

#ash: i just found a new region called jotoh!#oak: hey cool so apparently the world is round now#ash: wow!#oak: was the world round yesterday#ash: sure?#oak: great talk im gonna go have some grownup lemonade now bye

tags are too good to not pass along

pokemon theory i just thought of: new pokemon appear in the pokemon universe when they're designed in this one. they're created ex nilho but they have retroactive realness; they weren't here yesterday, but today they've always existed.

pokemon researchers have had to suss this out on their own over decades, and it's a really unpopular theory, made worse by the fact that no one can come up with a better one. from their perspective pokemon generate spontaneously but in both chronological directions, and the similarities of many pokemon seem to be detived from a conscious and creative understanding of the world--their world, though? what other world could there be?. there are ice cream pokemon and pokeball pokemon and sword pokemon and trash bag pokemon.

there are so many pokemon with both wings and a beak. is this like swords? is there an ur-flying type that this class evokes? there are so many canine pokemon. but what is a canine? is there such a thing? there's only one set of sword pokemon, right. one tea-set line. is *feline* a coherent category? would the ur-feline have two legs or four? why do so many pokemon have humanlike bodyplans-- but then again, why so few?

pichu has always been the prior form of pikachu. why didn't it get counted in order? why do we call it that instead of saying pikachu is the middle evolution of the pichu line? why can so many trainers remember finding this out well into their journeys? why didn't ash start with one?

this is why pokemon researchers do a lot of labwork, drink heavily, and use ten year olds for field research. you can't have an existential crisis if you don't even know what time is yet.