#oh scio sweetheart. scio.

[queenburd]

I am asking you to endure it.

(From the original writer, sourced in the link: "god" has constant access to the narrator's thoughts, and answers them as though they're having a conversation between equals, but clearly absolutely dictates the terms under which the narrator can speak. [...] it could be an actual god trying to calm down their only believer because they're trapped in the same prison.)

[ghostlandtoo]

WISH FULFILLMENT — COME BACK WRONG

a mood board for a friend’s fic concept

ID:

A web weaving post feature Wolfwood and Vash from Trigun Maximum. The first image is a panel of Wolfwood biting down on glass vials in his mouth and underneath the panel is the quote: “Why does tragedy exist? Because you are full of rage. Why are you full of rage? Because you are full of grief.” The second image is spliced together panels from volume 10. The first panel is Wolfwood holding a shot glass with speech bubbles saying: [N][arrow][is][the][strai][T][.] [I am asking [You] [h][ow] to endure it.]. Next is the panel of Vash bowing over his shot glass with spec bubbles saying: On the strength of My having asked it of you. Around him are thought bubbles saying: Oh, God… God… Please do me this one favor… The third panel is Wolfwood in profile, a tear running down his cheek. A speech bubble next to him says: [I am asking [not] to endure it.] The final panel is of the gravestone placed over his grave with a cross craved into it. Around it says: Scio… Sweetheart.

The lines are from a poem by tumblr user inactics linked here.

The third image is a quote from Richard Siken: He was not dead yet, no exactly—parts of him were dead already, certainly other parts were still only waiting for something to happen, something grand, but it isn’t always about me, he keeps saying, though he’s talking about the only heart he knows—

The fourth image is a screencap of dialogue from Disco Elysium. It reads:

You – Do I remember?

Inland Empire – No, you don’t. And it’s better that way.

You – What *do* I remember?

Inland Empire – Nothing.

(in all caps by the narrator) Don’t come back here!

The fifth image is Wolfwood aiming his handgun at the back of Vash’s head, who is in the foreground. Underneath that panel is a picture of an engraved plaque with a Jenny Holzer truism on it reading: Protect me from what I want. The sixth image is the panel of Wolfwood forcing Vash to hold a gun to his head and saying “Shoot.” The panel is cut in half by a quote from Richard Siken: but I think I’d rather keep the bullet. It’s mine, see, I’m not giving it up. This way you still owe me, and that’s as good as anything. You can’t get out of this one, [] you can’t get it out of me, and with this bullet lodged in my chest, covered with your name, I will turn myself into a gun, because I’m hungry and hollow and just want something to call my own. I’ll be your slaughterhouse, your killing floor, your morgue and final resting, walking around with this bullet inside me like the bullet was already there, like it’s been waiting inside me this entire time.

The seventh image is a picture of a line from Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead. It reads: (Guil) Our names shouted in a certain dawn… a message… a summons… there must have been a moment, at the beginning, where he could have said – no. But somehow we missed it. (He looks around and sees he is alone.) Rosen-? Guil-? (He gathers himself.) Well, we’ll know better next time. Now you see me, now you – (And disappears.)

The eighth image is the panel of Wolfwood and Vash sitting on the couch from volume 10. Wolfwood was been blacked out so he is just a silhouette. In the middle of his body is a block of text reading: living—despite (line break) living—against.

The final image is a dialogue box from the gamer Pathologic. The Executor is saying: I’ll tell you a story. Once there was a man who wanted to fix everything. He begged on bended knee for a chance to turn back time… And when he got it, history repeated itself. “Good job,” we told him. “That’s your fate.” He asked us, “Once more?” So we let him try once more, but with a catch. He who denies his fate will be punished.

[irrealisms]

Aww, did you think you broke the cycle? 

Next to Normal // all i ever wanted was [Wilbur animatic] - WolfyTheWitch // tumblr post by @celestialkindliness // oh, how i want to be free - @aliveburs // Marsha, Thankk You for the Dialectics, but I Need You to Leave. - Will Wood // Sakizuke - NBC Hannibal // oh, how i want to be free - @aliveburs // I Am So Depressed I Feel Like Jumping in the River Behind My House but Won’t Because I’m Thirty-Eight and Not Eighteen - Sandra Cisneros // Breathe - In the Heights // Status Quo Is God - TV Tropes // tumblr post by @intactics

[IDs under cut]

Image 1: DOCTOR MADDEN: Well, let’s start by getting to know each other a bit. Psychotherapy and medication work best in tandem, but we can try the first alone, and see how far we get. Why don’t you tell me—

Image 2: A drawing using the YCGMA color palette of Wilbur silhouetted against a background of buildings and rubble. The closed captions read "Am I right back where I started fourteen years ago?"

Image 3: a tumblr post by @celestialkindliness : *guy who's trying to pretend he's not trapped* big fan of narratives. big fan of the ceaseless and repetitive flow of events given life by an audience and mutated by their perception

Image 4: Say the line, Tubbo! Say the line! You can’t leave, you’ll never leave, you can’t escape the narrative because you’ll have to continue it, you want to, and isn’t this easier? Isn’t this a life worth living? Family safe, country safe, everything’s safe, what else is there to want?

Image 5: How many years have you been on that couch?/They could’ve quilt’d you in the throws by now

Images 6+7: A screenshot from NBC Hannibal, focused on Will Graham. The closed captions read "I've lost the plot. I am the unreliable narrator of my own story."

Image 8: And relearn your lines. Dress rehearsal is coming up!

Image 9: I Am So Depressed I Feel Like Jumping in the River Behind My House but Won’t Because I’m Thirty-Eight and Not Eighteen

Image 10: [NINA] This is my street I smile at the faces I’ve known all my life They regard me with pride And everyone’s sweet They say, “You’re going places" So how can I say that, while I was away I had so much to hide? Hey guys, it’s me The biggest disappointment you know The kid couldn’t hack it She’s back and she’s walkin’ real slow Welcome home, just breathe

Image 11:

Status Quo Is God

"Looks like everything's back the way it was! Which is the only way it should ever be..." — Marge Simpson, The Simpsons

Within a work, particularly long-running series and franchises, almost nothing changes. If something does change, it's generally reset back to the way it was before very quickly.

This usually happens in a series with no overarching conflict or plot, although it is also the final stage of Exponential Plot Delay, the phenomenon in which the plot of a serial story has totally ground to a halt. In either case, each installment of the series will open under virtually identical circumstances to the installment that came before.

Why create a static situation? The creators want the audience to be familiar with the characters and situation, without having to bother with such things as "what happened last episode".

Image 12: me: [I am asking [You] [h][ow] to endure it.] god: On the strength of My having asked it of you. me: [I am asking [not] to endure it.] god: Scio, sweetheart.

[cautiouslypeaceful]

have continued doing fresh whiteboard spreads every other month for the whole year, following what i started last year! sources for the quotes are below the cut

january 2022:

outnumbered & unafraid. - clemency for the wizard king by the mountain goats

wheat but not bread, fruit but not wine - referencing this quote

in my end is my beginning - cant quite remember :-(

bury me standing / bury me deep beneath the pylons - saints preservus by andrew bird

bury me in armor - violet hill by coldplay

choose a name. choose several names. - inspired by post

so it goes. - slaughterhouse-five by kurt vonnegut

march 2022:

my heart keeps watching through the skin of my eyelids - neighborhood #4 (7 kettles) by arcade fire

i was on my rollerblades, rolling on, moving on - rollerblades by eliza doolittle

out of the sirens might come the birdsong - birdsong by regina spektor

paint my spirit gold - i will wait by mumford and sons

remember how porcelain melted, remember there's an undone precedent for everything we've done. - excerpt of dark matter, from deformations by sasha dugdale

we are well, we are well - theseus by the oh hellos

may 2022:

look at us out in the honey light of the finished day. - excerpt of episode 15 of welcome to night vale

today i was loved - generic inspirational thing

the future is what we make it - generic inspirational thing

be a goldfish - from ted lasso, can't remember which episode

go placidly amid the noise and haste - excerpt from desiderata, max ehrmann

july 2022:

in defense of lightning, there is always a darkness asking to be split open. - hanif abdurraqib, link to source

remember that darkness is your country. - ursula k le guin, excerpt from a left handed commencement address

there is a period when it is clear that you have gone wrong but you continue. sometimes there is a luxurious amount of time before anything bad happens. - jenny holzer, link to source

i am asking you to endure it on the strength of my having asked it. (scio, sweetheart) - excerpts from post

+september 2022:

invest in future nostalgia - excerpt from post that i ran out of energy re: finding

people are liquids that fill their vessels - excerpt from something i found in a post

do you remember what a little relief feels like? (a lot.) - modified excerpt from post that i ran out of energy re: finding

here is the symbol - i was trying to think of something to put in the middle and this was a placeholder but i ended up liking how it sounded

stay warm inside the ripple of the panasonic hum; it grinds and it roars - exegetic chains by the mountain goats

(it'll all come around) - stoned at the nail salon by lorde

november 2022:

everybody's bones are just holy branches, cast from trees to cut patterns in the world - holy branches by radical face

everything you want is on the other side of fear - inspired by post

the known world expands, but the world we buried grows faster still. - excerpt of dark matter, from deformations by sasha dugdale

[thefoulbeast]

literally never gonna get over that post its so.................. the "beloved" and "scio, sweetheart" lines get me so... oh if you are something malevolent why must you speak so kindly why must you ask me to endure it why why why

[abbatoirablaze]

The Understudies, Season 2, Chapter 1

Word Count:  1.8k

Warnings:  none really

“Miss?” the nurse asked, breaking me from my thoughts of the names I’d conjured.  She took a few nervous steps in, “miss…we have a phone number for your father if you wanted to call him.  He keeps disconnecting on us.  The phone by your bedside is able to be used…I’ll be right outside if you need anything, okay sweetheart?”

I nodded.  She handed me a piece of paper, and then curtly left the room.  I felt the ball of nerves rise into my throat from my stomach.  Sitting up, I threw my legs over the side of the bed.  Forgetting about the paper beside me, I took a second to look down when my feet didn’t touch the floor.

What on earth?

I looked at my arms.  Why did I feel smaller?

I got up and ran to the bathroom that was connected to my room.  I rushed to pull the cord by the mirror, but I didn’t need it to confirm my suspicions.  As the electricity buzzed into the bulb, I stared at myself in horror.  I looked like a teenager. 

Something about this felt wrong. 

I screamed. 

The light shattered and the bathroom went dark. 

The nurse came bustling in and tried to calm me down.  Tried to get me into the bed, “it’s okay sweetheart.  It’s okay.  What’s wrong?”

“I look so different,” I shuddered, mortified in seeing a teenage version of myself, “what happened to me?”

I was sobbing.  She held onto me and rubbed my back. 

“You’ve been in a coma for nearly a year, sweetheart,” she said, patting a moist towel to my forehead and cheeks, “you’ve changed a lot.  You’re undergoing some changes…but the doctor can explain it all to you, sweetheart.”

It didn’t feel right.  In my dream I was older.  I remember being older. 

“I’m older,” I said, trying to convince her of something I felt in my heart, “I’ve been a mother.  I’ve driven a car.  I had a boyfriend.”

“Oh sweetie,” she cooed, a hand on my cheek, “you can’t be more than 13 years old.  There’s no way you’ve done any of those things.”

“I-I”

“You must have dreamt it all up.  You know, they say that people can feel like they’ve lived a whole life if they’ve fallen into a coma,” she sighed, instantly coddling me, “poor thing…you’ve been through so much.”

She looked at me, waiting for my reaction.  Internalizing all of my terrified thoughts, I nodded along with her, “but…my father.  Y-you say I’ve been out in a coma for a year?”

“You should call him…did you call yet?”

I shook my head.  She gave me a soft smile, nodded, and then picked up the rotary phone.  I closed my eyes, trying to think of anything that would point to my life.  The only thing that came to mind was Reginald Hargreeves.  An older gentleman who always wore a suit and had an umbrella.  I fell into a trance as I heard the dial click every time she went to dial another number. 

“Sweetheart?”

I opened my eyes.  The dial stopped clicking.  She held out the phone, and I took it.  Without another word she walked into the hall and closed the door.  The gentle ringing stopped as I put the phone to my ear.  

“Hello?”

“Reginald Hargreeves.”

“Who is this?”

“Dicere nobis necesse est.  Scio quid estis vos.” (We need to talk.  I know what you are.)

I heard a sigh, “Ego in Dallas.  Credo tibi hospitium est vocant unum per circuitum.”  (I am in Dallas.  I presume you are the one the hospital has been calling about.)

“Ego filiam tuam, Brianna.” (I am your daughter, Brianna)

I heard a gasp, “tantum scio Brianna –“ (the only Brianna I know)

“Mater tua,” I said cutting him off, “et fui mortuus coram venisti huc ante annos.” (is your mother.  And she was dead before you came here years ago.)

“We will speak,” he said, taking a deep inhale, finally in English.  I smiled to myself, knowing that was the only way to get his attention.  Latin was the key with Reginald, “I will send a car in one hour.  Tell them to have your discharge papers ready.”

The line disconnected before I could respond. 

I hung the phone up and stood unsteadily on my feet.  Walking over to the door, I opened it and went out to the nurse’s station where the kind woman had said that she would be. 

“Excuse me, ma’am,” I asked.  The woman turned around, and my breath caught in my throat. 

“What can I do for you sweetheart?” the woman asked, a deep Southern drawl.

“I uh-“ I stuttered. 

Something about her looked so familiar. 

“Do I know you?”

“Of course you do, sweetie,” the lady laughed, “I’m your physician.  But you can call me Doctor Grace.”

“Sir Reginald Hargreeves requests your presence at the car, Miss.”

Grace put an arm around me in a protective manner, “sir, I’m not to release this girl into anyone’s care but her fathers.”

The older gentleman buttoned the middle button of his jacket and nodded, disappearing down the hall. I looked at Grace, who had yet to let go of me.  That’s when it all came back to me…why she looked so familiar.  Being tucked under her arm, I remembered a time when I was little, and Reginald had made a robotic version of her.  It felt like it was another lifetime.  But here she was, standing in front of me.

“Mom.”

She laughed, “oh darlin, I’m not nobody’s momma.”

“I’m sorry,” I sighed, pulling away from her and sitting on the bed, “I just…you look a lot like her…”

“Brianna.”

I turned around and Reginald look like his breath caught in his throat.  But he was staring at Grace. 

“Mr. Hargreeves?”

He nodded, “I am he.”

“We’ve been trying to get a hold of you for quite a moment,” she laughed, “we’ve had your daughter listed as Jane Doe for over a year.”

“Boarding school,” he lied quickly, recovering whatever thoughts he tried to have, “she was supposed to be in boarding school in Europe.”

“And no one called to tell you she was missing?”

He shook his head, “no.  I suppose I should have a word with them.”

“Well Mr. Hargreeves I’d invest in a different school,” she laughed, “I’ll give ya’ll a few minutes to get caught up…alright?”

He nodded, not taking his eyes off her until she closed the door. 

“She’s our mom,” I whispered just loud enough for him to hear, “at least…you make a robot version of her to raise us.”

“Who are you?” he said, still staring at the door, “You’re not FBI, MI6, or even a Russian…how do you know me?”

“October 1, 1981,” I responded quickly, “That’s the day I, along with 42 other children are born to women who were not pregnant at the beginning of that day.  All of us have superpowers.  But this really isn’t a conversation we should be having in a public place, lest you want me to get tossed in a loony bin.”

“Abhijat said the doctor wouldn’t let you leave with him.”

“It’s nice to see he’s alive here.”

Reginald raised a brow, “he’s not alive in whatever place you came from?”

I bit my lip, “He dies due to one of the children’s outbursts…”

“What year?”

“1994,” I admitted, “you were going to let him go home to India to retire.  Vanya did not take that well and snapped his neck.  You make a robot of him too, but he’s nowhere near as popular as mom.”

“We have a lot to discuss, don’t we little one?”

“Only if you care to know it,” I nodded. “If not, you can leave me here…”

“But you know I wouldn’t do that!” he commented, cocking his head to the side ever so slightly.

I smiled, “you’re too curious, papa.  You wouldn’t leave me here alone.”

“You’re my favorite, aren’t you?”

I nodded, sitting on the bed, “is that curiosity why you really agreed to come today?  Or do you have other reasons?”

“You said you knew what I was.”

“Two zippers,” I said slowly as he sat down.  I touched each spot as I pointed it out, “one at the crown of the back of your head, and another on your back, right between your shoulder blades.”

The mask didn’t betray his confusion, but the twitch on his lip told me he believed I knew about him, “when?”

“I was six,” I replied, “I never told my siblings about that day.  But you were trying to coax me into showing what my full abilities were.  They only knew that I can become invisible…but you had a feeling I could do more…I got my full powers at a delayed age, and almost died.  You had me in the medical wing of the basement for a month before I came out of my transformation.  You showed me what you truly are, and told me that I would always be safe with you…you told me that you wouldn’t force me to be part of the team, nor would you do any experiments on me.”

“Well then, “he began, trying to read me, “if all of this is true, I cannot leave you here.  If anyone were to get to you and realize who you are, it could be catastrophic.”

“I know.  It’s why I called you first.”

“Invisibility,” he muttered, “did I ever learn about any of your other powers?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head, “Dani wouldn’t let me show you.  She made me promise.”

“Who is Dani?”

“Dani is my twin sister, Danielle,” I told him, “she had similar powers, none of which she showed you either…you two didn’t like one another.  You once told me that she held me back from achieving my true potential…”

“Why are you telling me this sort of thing now then?”

“We jumped back into the past to stop the apocalypse which happens in 2019…at least, that’s the story I think is right” I sighed, “I can’t put together the whole story right off the bat, and there are a lot of blank spaces, but I know that Five sent us back.  As far as I know I’m the only one to make it out…and if I’m the only one that made it out alive I need to make sure that we don’t have the same problems…we need to make sure they get fixed before they ever happen.”

“And how do you propose that?”

“I’m going to help you papa,” I smiled, “we’re gonna make a better world for everyone.”

He chuckled softly, and smiled at me, “I know you say we don’t meet one another for another few decades, but I feel as though we are kindred spirits little one.”

“I must have made it back for a reason…and clearly me being able to get in touch with you is one of them.”

He patted my knee and stood up.  Then he held his hand out to me, “well little one, we’ve got a lot of work to do then.  So let’s get started.”

Chapter 2