#post plague reckoning

[theenchantedquillmagazine]

Title: "The Black Death Requiem"

Genre: Historical Drama, Psychological Thriller

In the year 1348, in the heart of medieval England, the cobblestone streets of the city of York were teeming with fear and uncertainty. The Black Death, a merciless, unseen enemy, had tightened its grip, its dark shadow looming over the once lively city.

Among the many families in the city was the large and once prosperous Hawthorne clan. The plague had infiltrated their home, bringing their vibrant world to a screeching halt. Their large manor, once filled with laughter and merry chatter, had transformed into a sombre quarantine zone.

The family, once tightly-knit, was stretched thin as food supplies dwindled and the illness started taking its toll. Each day was a battle against the creeping fear of the impending doom. Desperation gave way to paranoia, the fear of death turned kin against kin. Disputes over rations grew heated, accusations of hoarding were flung, and tempers flared as the disease made its presence known.

And then, the inevitable happened - the first Hawthorne fell to the plague, then another, and another. As their numbers dwindled, the once robust family turned hollow, a reflection of their decaying city.

When the quarantine was lifted, the surviving Hawthornes emerged, blinking into the sunlight, forever changed by the ordeal. However, their troubles were far from over. They were now outsiders in a city that had moved on without them. Once influential, they were now shunned, their former allies distancing themselves for fear of the plague.

And worse, accusations started circulating in the city that the Hawthorne clan had not merely suffered from the plague, but had caused it. Their rivals seized this chance to lay blame on them. The Hawthornes, struggling to deal with their own traumas, now had to defend their tarnished name.

In the aftermath of the Black Death, who among the Hawthornes will rise to challenge these accusations? Can they reclaim their lost honour, or will they succumb to the weight of their losses? The real test begins now, not against the merciless plague, but against the judgemental society and their own fractured family bonds.

Tags: Historical Drama, Psychological Thriller, Bubonic Plague, Medieval England, Quarantine, Family Feud, AI Story, Open Ended Plot, Writing Prompt, Creative Writing, Plot Seed, Story Continuation, Family Drama, Post Plague Reckoning, Social Pariah, Co-create, Explore this world.

Prompt 2161

A large family with the bubonic plague is quarantined in their home. as they run out of supplies, and they start to fall ill, they turn on each other. But the real reckoning comes when their quarantine is over.

[quantummirage]

Rudy ya gotta post something....

[chaaistained]

☕️ . careful ! you might burn yourself ≈≈

hi, i’m chaai !!

.

.

.

🗝️ you’ve now unlocked my ingredient list—what goes into this cup of chaai?

chaai has layers—the usual sweetness of sugar and honey can be formidable when melted into scalding hot water—such is the very girl who steeps the leaves of this blog.

with a cinnamon spiced tongue, she speaks, she whispers, she sings her dreams into reality.

for all the burns that this world gives her, there is but only one truth and it is imagination.

chaai finds solace in solitude, she finds comfort in creativity, she finds motivation in music and inspiration in intricate stories.

a writer, a poet, a singer, a dancer / a crier, a screamer, a laugher, a prancer.

a childlike whimsy will forever permeate the aroma of chaai. drenched in jasmine and sandalwood and frangipani intoxication, she will braid flowers into her hair and use the fallen petals to cast her spells.

the bursting flavours of ideas that she has bubbling inside will leave stains with every single klutzy stumble she makes as she tries to reach her point in a concise manner.

chaai is a welcoming drink, an open hand, palm outstretched to the sky, ready to be held by another (you only need to ask!).

brewed just right

what chaai likes

☕︎ chai (shock horror), talking about her dr’s i beg you, send an ask, journals, notebooks, ink stained fingertips, stories, poems, essays, analysis, romanticism in art, the sight of rain from a window, the strength in one’s imagination, the multiversal theory, when the world used to feel more vibrant and saturated, love letters, rnb and classic jazz, her beloved friends and mutuals

when you steep it too long, it bitters

what chaai dislikes / dni

☕︎ racism, homophobia, xenophobia, classism, colourism, sexism, not being a decent human being, unacceptability of other’s choices when it comes to their dr’s (if it’s not your dr, don’t police it—there is nuance in feats as ancient as reality shifting , things like aging up/down, race swapping, gender swapping - idgaf, do what you want and let me do what i want), general rudeness and self entitlement (be respectful or be blocked), anti-shifters because we really needed more attention whores in this world apparently . if i feel like it i WILL add to this list

tea bags come with tags

my most used tags :

#by chaaistained — anything that i created or wrote and would like to share with my name proudly declared in the tags <3

#chaai chats ≈ — random musings, muddles rambles, whatever sparks my interest, plagues my thoughts, something i want to speak on or ponder about, no rhyme, reason, or rhythm aside from the fact that i thought it and i needed to share it

#chaai recs ๑° — my recommendations, whether it is for scripting or manifesting, shifting advice, even post ideas or inspiration, anything i enjoy and i reckon others should see

+ and additional tag of #highly recs !! when i feel that spark of interest or inspiration burning bright from your post

#signs from the universe… — for the odd serendipitous piece of art or quote or poem, wtv of the sort, that i believe has a double meaning more inclined to shifters, also the tag for whenever i come across a post that personally feels like a sign for me

#chaai channels ; [insert dr-self]༄ — when i find a post that aligns with my dr-self, or when i make such a post

#chaai for : [insert s/o] ৻ꪆ — when i find a post that reminds me of any of my s/o’s, or . more accurately, when i’m raving and jumping around in my feels for them ..

#chaai’s moodboards .•° — my moodboards !! i’m proud of them :)

#chaai loves » [insert moot] ✿ — personal tag for my moots

#teacup anons !! — personal tag for anons

+ claimed anons : bodygaurd anon . 🍦 .

don’t swallow the tea leaves ! for they leave you a message 🍂

this is my first shifting/loa blog !! i was really inspired by @hrrtshape to finally move my ass and make one (you should definitely follow her !!).

if you see similarities in what i post it is because of this (i HAVE spoken to emma and have informed her that i’ll be ib-ing her and/or tagging her in my posts).

i look forward to making friends on this blog≈≈

and if you find my main . no you didn’t, got that?

chaai brews; tea assortments — dr archive

chaai ponders; ring stained pages — on loa/shifting/manifestion/creativity

2024 © chaaistained

[fallingrealms16]

CAITVI FIC REC LIST PART 1 (???) <3333

Now tell me why I’ve never actually read wlw fics before???? Because now I’m insanely obsessing over Caitvi (arcane) (also their name should be Violyn FIGHT ME)

SO WITHOUT FURTHER A DUE: here is my first compiled list of VIOLYN fics that I have read so far! (Word count ordered: ascending) There will absolutely definitely 1000% be another one of these so if you like it pls pretty pls note it, comment, re tumble it!

Reminder‼️ pretty please read all the tags on each fic before reading as I am not responsible for any emotional trauma you may experience ^3^ (more notes at the bottom ty, ily <3)

Where All the Secrets are Spilled by ConnieLingus, L_Kayze @connielingus423

10K Words // 1 Chapter // COMPLETED

//EXPLICIT//

The reunited Hellfire squad drinks together in the Kiramman Family Library before Noxus invades Piltover. Caitlyn and Vi reckon with their mistakes. It gets angry, it gets raw, and then it gets away from them.

An imagining of what happens post Act 2 and pre Act 3

Bound and Determined by Pandoras_Hope

27K Words // 10 Chapters // COMPLETED

//EXPLICIT//

When Vi finally gets released from Stillwater prison, she is determined to get back to her old life as quickly as possible. But a chance encounter with her new next-door neighbor pulls her into an unexpected tangle of sex, violence, and a plot to take control of the undercity.

Vicious Dogs Fight Dirty by paleserendipity

33K Words // 3 Chapters // COMPLETED

//EXPLICIT//

If anything, she should be at home, resting the countless cuts and bruises lining her skin. Though, really, if she had a choice in it, she’d probably still choose to come here. Easier to fight than curl up in a makeshift bed as nightmares of your situation-ship girlfriend plague you, right?

Burn by ThisOrThatFan @thisorthatfan-ao3

44K Words // 6 Chapters // COMPLETED

//EXPLICIT//

A modern AU of Piltover's Finest - a story of two firefighters battling flames not only on the job, but also against the internal fire burning within their hearts.

Late Fine by ConnieLingus

52K Words // 7 Chapters // COMPLETED

//EXPLICIT//

Vi’s one night stand is working the Returns counter at the Zaunite Branch of the Connected Cities County Public Library and Vi has to return her sister’s overdue items. What could go wrong?

Make Out Lessons With A Boxer by poetess

72K Words // 8 Chapters // COMPLETED

//EXPLICIT//

The friends with benefits college AU where oblivious mutually pining idiots pine mutually, jinx is an exhausted zoomer, and bisexuals rule the world.

I wanna point out that I use Ao3. At one point this year the normal Ao3 server was down and I wasn’t able to load any fics I was reading but I found that Ao3 has a secondary website completely the same: archiveofourown.gay

So naturally being the queer diva I am, I completely switched to .gay because it’s iconic <3

Also I am an adult so these fics usually are explicit or teen and up just because I like the explicit themes.

May vary from smexual content or just mature themes (violence ect…)

These fics are just what caught my eye first and just so happen to all be labelled explicit!

BUTTTTT if you want any fic recs such as “teen and up” or “all audiences” let me know as I’m open to anything!

My question box is also open so if you’re looking for fics with certain tags I’m happy to search and recommend! The fandoms I follow are:

Supernatural (destiel ship mainly)

DC universe (superbat mainly!)

Marvel (fluff for Spider-Man and tony stark - FATHER/SON, Bucky x Reader, stucky, x-men universe)

Teen Wolf!!! (Started off my account as this - specifically sterek but I do read Stydia sometimes too)

Arcane (Violyn mostly known as Caitvi😪)

I take recommendations too so if you find something you think I should read I’m all eyes and ears HAHA

I read all the fics I recommend too to know exactly what I am recommending!!! If you have made it this far reading Thankyou and I appreciate you ⭐️

[acourtofthought]

An Elucien book could possibly have -

A post in collaboration with @crazy-ache @zenkindoflove @goghwilde @starsreminisce

Lucien telling Elain stories about her father

Vassa telling Elain stories about her father

Elain becoming an owl shifter

Elucien performing in the Great Rite.

The LoA falling in love with Elain after never having had a daughter and Elain falling in love with her, finally having a maternal figure who sees the strength she possesses

Elain and Lucien outsmarting Koschei with their intelligence.

Elain and Lucien being able to open up to one another about their first loves that were then lost and the depression they experienced as a result

Band of Exiles sass

Helion's excitement over Elain being a conversationalist just like him

A smutty scene with Elucien against a tree

A smutty scene with Elucien in a field of flowers

A smutty scene where Lucien shows Elain just how good he really is with that mouth when he's using it for something other than talking

Elain helping Lucien through his guilt, helping him see that he is not to blame for Jesminda's death.

Lucien being able to stop Beron from harming Elain after not being able to do the same for Jesminda.

Lucien looking over to see Elain wearing the pearl earrings he gifted her.

Lucien looking over to see Elain wearing only the pearl earrings he gifted her.

Lucien looking over to see Elain wearing only the pearl earrings he gifted her and his jacket.

Elain curing the illness plaguing the Pegasus foals

Elain breaking Vassa's curse

Lucien demonstrating exactly why Azriel would not in fact defeat him with little effort

Elain admitting to Lucien that she was angry with how perfect his first Solstice gift to her was when she was trying to fight the pull she had to him

Elain telling Lucien that she was angry at herself for feeling disloyal to Graysen when she first met his eye and found him the most handsome thing she had ever seen.

Lucien being delighted to find that after the many months of Elain keeping herself at a distance by not talking, she has the ability to put him in his place with her verbal sparring.

Elain and Lucien playing practical jokes on Jurian

Elain restoring the people of Springs faith in it's leadership, whoever that maybe be.

Elain creating life like Isabela Madrigal, Te Fiti, or Cthona

Lucien coming into his own High Lord power and becoming a force to be reckoned with.

Elain telling Graysen he never deserved her.

Lucien and Eris resolving their past / brother bonding.

Lucien and Eris defeating Beron and finally avenging their mother and Jesminda.

Elain hugging Eris which might be the first hug he's been given in a very long time

Elain and Lucien feeding treats to the Pegasus

Elain and Lucien feeding treats to the smoke-hounds

Elain and Lucien riding on a horse together

Elain and Lucien riding on a Pegasus

Lucien's first hug with his mother in centuries

Elain and Lucien visiting Helion's libraries to do research

Lucien surprising Elain with a visit to the tulip fields in the continent. When she turns to him in delight and surprise she'll ask him how he knew. Lucien will tell her that her father told him, that he wanted to take her one day but since he no longer could, Lucien wanted to fulfill both of their dreams.

The reader once again getting a glimpse into Elain's mind but this time, the buds are in full bloom after accepting her mating bond.

Lucien having learned of human customs and getting down on one knee to propose to Elain.

[tinrange]

Despite rushing it, this weeks Your Sky episode left me feeling relieved in some way, there was no sidestepping the external homophobia or its impact on Rak. He was not in his head, he was nervous and right to be and that fear thats been plaguing him is not one borne only of outsized fear.

This is going to sound incredibly jaded but im increasingly tired of modern QLs not committing to homophobia as a True obstacle for their protagonists. It is sooooo reocccurent: Only Boo, 23.5, even as far back as Dark Blue Kiss and countless other shows, the characters are scared and apprehensive about coming out just to be told theres no reason to. Its becoming increasingly grating to see tv that wants to include homophobia, whether to legitimize a rship in face of struggle or make their characters more relatable to an LGBT audience, but never has their characters deal with it as anything more than an internal battle because everyone around them is always ready to accept them.

Raks commitment to sticking by Fah even as his father disapproves is a big moment for his character growth and a display of how their relationship has not only made him happier but firmer in his wants and needs. The menacing air around his father at dinner, his mothers silence before her sad acceptance, the blow up with swearing and his fathers assertion of control, all complete with his fathers decision to put his adult son on house arrest and watch him like a hawk lest he steer off the right path. They cant even talk. Its also such an underdiscussed dynamic to be the one who has to introduce more pain to your partner, especially the homophobic kind. For all the queer discourse on dating someone whos closeted, theres a worry of having to 'force' someone to endure what you have to for the crime of loving you. I wish the show wouldve had more time to sit with these themes but in some ways I get it, its hard to rectify that melancholy with the light vibe its had going, similar to the LITBC movie.

Theres been a lot of discussion on sanitizing queer experiences for a larger audience, sparked by a great post from @lurkingshan, and to see a show so firmly bubbled up that it seemed removed from all real depictions of homophobia reaching for the chance to show something Real made me appreciate it much more. Its extremely telling that even in the homophobic 'I like you, not boys' era familial and communal homophobia was treated as a viable obstacle instead of a stepping stone to a happier future. The commodification of BL specifically has made these sort of expressions of overt homophobia rarer recently. Even when its discussed you cant really see it the same. A show like this, whos audience loves a bit of fanservice and light fluff, sticking to depicting such a lash out is an unequivocal good to me at this point considering how Thai BL really feels its hit a standstill in the things its allowed to be brazen about. It feels a bit fatalistic to say, especially for a show so nutrient light, but we really are entering a period of conservatism and the media landscape refusing to reckon with that is never a good sign.

[veritas-scribblings]

video - @jartylusmicrofics - words: 1,343 [explicit / NSFW]

[inspired by this post by @thatcoolguyeli]

The conference had been such a ‘drag’, as Barty would put it. Davide Bastelli, CEO of Bastelli Group, is a monolith of a man with impressively sculptured facial hair and little personality to speak of. He’s not so much grey, in any sense of the word. He’s more rough, chiselled slate stone—impressive to look at, expensive to purchase, but really that’s all. Even his accent, the lyrical way in which Italians speak that normally makes James a little weak at the knees, hadn’t been enough to counteract the aggressive boredom.

Actually, James had spent a ridiculous amount of the meeting trying to subdue his violent urges; a side effect, he thinks, of all the time he’s been spending around Barty. It had been around the one hour and fifty minute mark when James’s thoughts had taken a drastic swerve away from blood and gore and battered fists, courtesy of a text message from RegulusBarty.

There’s this game that Barty and Regulus like to play. It had started, Regulus says, when they were in school and he had admitted to Barty that he watches strangers simply existing and invents stories for them. Imagines who they are, their days and their lives, what adventures they’re going on and where they’re going on these adventures, and who they’re in love with and out of live with. And in his darker times, when they’ll die and how they’ll die and who they’ll leave behind.

Of course, Barty (being Barty) and taken this game and started to wonder what these strangers are like when they’re naked, when they’re having sex. What turns them on, what they’re freaks and unique kinks are, who they’ve recently had sex with, when they lost their virginity, what their O-face looks like, who would be their free pass.

James reckons that Bastelli is straight. As straight as an arrow, because no man that dull could possibly bend. It would be an insult to gays and lesbians and bisexuals and queers everywhere. Bastelli, James reckons, is a real sub in his sex life. There is no way he would wear the pants in any romantic dynamic. No man that tightly wound, that in control of himself, could ever continue to be so in bed. Bastelli for sure gets off on being dominated, and Barty and Regulus would have loved the challenge.

This is how Barty and Regulus had snared James. Because Barty had said to James that he strikes him as someone who is ‘vanilla in real life and an absolute freak in the sheets’ and had determinedly pursued confirmation. That’s Barty’s running theory: that the dullest people in real life are the filthiest in bed. James doesn’t think of himself as a vanilla sort of person, though he does like to think he’s a generous and creative lover.

He shrugs his jacket off, drops his bag by the door, stumbles over to the bed and falls face-first into the softness of the quilt and the sheets and the feather-down pillows. The Bastellis are filthy rich—Black Family Empire rich—and have put him up in the penthouse suite of what is likely a thousand-euros-plus-a-night luxury hotel in the heart of Milan. There is a fully stocked bar. A huge spa in the bathroom decked out with whirlpool features. A media room with a huge squashy couch and a thin-as-paper-big-as-the-wall television. A full kitchen with stainless steal premium appliances.

The bed is huge. King-sized. Enough room for James to comfortably fit three people, not that he has anyone to currently share it with. For the fourth time that afternoon, his phone vibrates in his pocket. He pulls it out with a groan. The phone and the thought of what was in those messages being sent to him have plagued him all day. Ever since he had made the mistake of opening the first photo that Barty had sent using Regulus’s phone, and he’d seen Regulus spread out naked on their bed.

And the blood in James had rapidly drained south. And he’d had to quickly hide his phone, because he’d been sitting in the conference at the time right next to Bastelli’s personal assistant, who is nosy enough to have tried to sneak a glance.

James has all the plans of strangling Barty when he gets back, and not in the kinky sort of way either, because Barty would eat that shit up. It’ll be strangling in the ‘I’m going to actually murder you’ sense of the word. Because it’s day five, and James is tired and lonely and sexually frustrated. And Barty obviously knows this, because he’s spent the last five days sending James explicit photos with sentences like, ‘wish you were here’ and ‘thinking of you’.

And now James is ready to cut the business trip short and fly back home so he can join in, because he wantswantswants. Fuck the Bastelli luxury portfolio. James has other, more important, business to attend to.

It’s not a photo this time. It’s a video. James knows he shouldn’t open it; he probably should just delete it. Watching it will not solve his problem, nor will it do him any good. As it is, his trousers already feel so tight and, laying face down on the bed, the friction against his arousal is doing things for him. With a sigh, James flips over, toes off his shoes and socks and pulls his trousers off, discarding them by the foot of his bed. He reaches down to palm himself through his pants, a groan caught in his throat. He’s wanted to do this for hours now.

Realistically, James has always been the curious sort, the sort with impulse control issues. He thumbs the video open and is immediately greeted by the sound of skin rustling against a microphone. The movement of the camera is so shaky and blurry that James has no idea what’s going on—no, actually, he does—though he does recognise their bedroom.

When all the movement in the video stills, the phone having been rested on what’s likely the dresser, Barty gives him a shit-eating ‘cat who got the cream’ grin. He’s on all fours, staring into the camera, his erection full, glistening and hanging heavy between his legs. He’s sweaty and messy enough that James can tell they’ve been doing things for a while now. He can just imagine how it had all gone down: they’d been in the middle of something and either Barty or Regulus had stopped and said, ‘oh hey, let’s film this so James doesn’t feel left out.’ James wouldn’t put it past them to think that they’re actually being considerate.

In the video, Barty glances over his shoulder at Regulus, who is laid out on the bed behind him, his knees spread open so he can comfortably work his fingers into himself. Barty turns back to the camera and says with a breathy laugh, ‘we didn’t want you to feel left out.’

James quickly dumps the phone aside so he can loosen his tie and pull his shirt off. In his haste, he becomes tangled and tugs and struggles and squirms, and when he finally gets the shirt off his glasses go with it and he cries out in sheer frustration.

He can hear familiar noises coming from the phone. Regulus’s moans, which are always ‘from the depth of his chest’ deep, and Barty cursing up a storm, his pure and creative obscenities. James yanks his pants off and throws them onto the floor, and finally settles back against the pillows, his glasses securely in place so he can clearly see Barty on his knees, Regulus reaching behind to hold onto the headboard, Barty holding onto Regulus’s hips as he thrusts into him.

Lip caught between his teeth, James fists his leaking cock, works his hand up and down his length, squeezes firmly at the base because he knows he’s not going to last. The video is just over eight minutes long and James has every intention of seeing it through.

[mostlikelymortal]

House of Leaves by Mark Z Danielewski

Or: “What does it take to support someone with severe mental illness?”

(This post contains spoilers for the entirety of the novel - proceed at your own risk)

- -

I’ve just finished my first read through of House of Leaves, and I was so struck by the final section (Johnny’s mother’s letters) and how it redefined the entirety of the novel that preceded it that I spent the next several hours pouring through the entire story, and this post is the result.

I’ll first say that this book in and of itself is a masterclass of horror and ergodic literature. Taken at its bare state, it succeeds in drawing the reader into a lull of discomfort, taunting them into deeper and deeper senses of confusion, frustration, and (at least in my case) obsession. I myself couldn’t FIND damn near half of the cyphers, let alone SOLVE them, but just the knowledge that they existed meant that MZD was issuing a challenge to the reader to dive deeper, to think more laterally and “four dimensionally” in order to eek out one more ounce of actual truth from the story. The chapters where everything “falls apart” (Chapter IX, etc) are equal parts enticing and nauseating, matching the sense of navigating the house perfectly. This book is more of a wild ride than anything I’d previously picked up in my reading career.

However, once you read the letters, whatever opinion of Johnny Truant you had previously is “brought into the light”, as it were, and you’re forced to reckon with the truer nature of the pages you’d spent days, weeks, months, or even above a year navigating. Johnny was FAR from a perfect person (nor was he anything CLOSE to a reliable narrator, even going so far as to laugh at the reader for daring to believe his words), but to his mother, he was one of the only anchors into reality that she could rely on. You learn so much about Johnny’s character and skillset in those letters, including 1) the fact he was incredibly loving towards his mother and understanding of the issues that plagued her, sticking with her as best he could until the end and 2) she had spent many of his formative years drilling him in the study of language, the classics, and even taught him cyphers as a way of communicating when reality was a bit more difficult to believe. And that’s when you as a reader can put the final puzzle piece together and understand the novel as a singular argument, namely that in order to truly care for someone experiencing severe mental illness, you have to truly try and understand their fragmented reality, step into the darkness with them, and calmly yet compassionately and patiently love them in a way that their symptoms cannot misconstrue. And the three stories of Will Navidson, Zampano, and Johnny Truant exemplify the different approaches people take towards interacting with this group of people, and especially, how so many people perform that task WRONG.

Johnny’s descent into paranoia, mania, hallucinations, obsession, and compulsion is reacted to in half a dozen ways by more than half a dozen characters. Some of it is marginally helpful (consider; the shop manager giving him simple monotonous tasks to ground him and plenty of leniency in his ability to come to work on time; his many run-ins with women who appreciate his company and allow him not to be isolated, even if the content of those run-ins were nothing more than base sex; Thumper, who listened more intently and empathetically to Johnny’s predicament than anyone else, though eventually failing to truly get through to him; and Lude’s, however shallow, friendship). However, given that Johnny never once has a truly “good”support system in his life, he can never truly get a handle on his symptoms, and they end up eating him alive, at least for the better part of the story. Lude, being the selfish type who could never truly empathize with this kind of problem, decided to lambast Johnny with distractions and fun in the vain attempt to get as much entertainment as he can before the end (I’m sure we all have had friends like this). The tattoo shop did all they could and truly wished Johnny the best, though in the end they cut their losses and replaced him (not something we can totally blame them for but it was a limitation on their ability to truly get to him). His numerous sexual partners (outside of Kyrie) all were shown to have some kind of genuine empathy towards him, but their brief and base meetings ensured that no true intervention could take place. Kyrie and the Gdansk man, however, represented another type of intervention for those with severe mental illness, being the kind that actively ridicule and hunt them for entertainment, a force that to this day haunts folks. And Thumper, who gets the closest to being an actual intervention and positive social support for him, ultimately fails at doing so, though it could be argued it was not her failing but a failure of the circumstance. All of these characters have varied levels of true connection to Johnny, but because those connections are rife with ulterior motives, they cannot truly help him in a way that ultimately matters. I imagine that folks with severe mental illness most commonly experience these types of relationships.

Zampano, while we don’t have a TON to go on regarding his actual life outside the few attempts Johnny has to speak to people he knew, is reticent of the times, when confronted with severe mental illness, that people instead choose to enable the hallucinations, mania, obsessions, and compulsions instead of actively trying to dismiss them. The women who interact with him in life are paid to research and document his break in reality. Every single one does so without question, and in doing so, perpetuates his symptoms further until his timely, or rather untimely, death. And while we see the bulk of the novel focus on Zampano’s obsession, that only reinforces how far the rabbit hole will go if their support system will allow it to.

Finally, Will Navidson has perhaps the most healthy support system of the three, having a loving wife, two children, and a cadre of acquaintances who are skilled and capable in their own right. However, because they are unable to fully and properly step into his shoes, namely how they are unable to address (or even recognize) Will’s trauma surrounding the Delial photograph, they are unable to truly intervene on his mental descent in the house on ash tree lane. Karen, largely out of fear, refuses to step into the darkness embodying Will’s struggle to navigate reality, instead first distracting herself with friends and chores and later trying to intervene through faux-spiritual means (Feng Shui). Holloway represents the brute force approach to mental illness that pays no heed to the human being who is suffering, refusing to accept any detour on his pre-prescribed path towards a “solution” (no wonder his approach ended up being the most volatile). Tom, while assisting in SOME capacity during Exploration #4, and valiantly saving/caring for the children when things got too rough, was never able to truly get to the heart of Will’s issues, and therefore could not truly help him in the ways he needed. It is ONLY when Karen truly sees the man calling out for the things he loves, and the supports he needs, when the darkness allows her in, and upon embracing Will for the person he is, the issue (house) in itself disappears, allowing them both to walk forwards into the future.

This book is a thing of genius on so many levels, in a matter of composition, art, storytelling, and most importantly, as a plea to those who have people in their lives trapped in their own house of leaves due to severe mental illness. I absolutely will treasure it on my bookshelf for quite some time, I think.

(Also, just to be 100% on the level, I don’t think the book dismisses the VERY important support system that is medical/pharmaceutical intervention for severe mental illness, nor do I want folks to misconstrue my words as saying they are less than important. I am simply saying, and I think MZD would agree, that medical/pharmaceutical interventions can never be the ONLY thing that keeps people afloat, and that’s it’s EVERYONE’s responsibility in a social support group to help fight the fight with that person).

(Also, as another aside, I think the interpretation of the novel as being something Johnny either fully or in large part made up as a way to discuss the above themes is a valid one supported by the literature in some crucial ways. Way early in the novel, we learn he is incredibly apt at “making stories up”, after all, and we later learn that he worked, likely tirelessly, with the editors to publish the work. Just something else to put out into the discourse. And if it IS true, then that should elevate folks’ appreciation of the character that much more).

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Is it ever explained in the game why the Mc doesn't have their memories post-resurrection?

Like they get the Fool’s body and the fool is like new beginnings and stuff ( I ASSMUE, Tell me if I'm wrong) , but is an actual explanation in the game? Like did they also have to give something up even though the didn't make the deal? Is it because they don't have their original body?

Spoil it for me idc I just wanna know

The Arcana Brainrot Essays: MC's Memories

Hi anon friend! I hope you don't mind the ramble that's about to proceed -

Not only is the magic system of the Arcana pretty vague, when it comes to MC inhabiting the Fool's body, we have six different canon routes and twelve different canon endings, all with different implications.

With MC not being present for the ritual that gets their body back, it's fairly safe to assume that MC is not bound by any deals at the time of the prologue (though there is plenty of space to argue otherwise, given how vague the details are). Many of the routes include other characters reckoning with the deals they made at the time, but MC's reckoning has more to do with the truth than anything else. The best explanation, and to my knowledge, the canon explanation we get across routes for MC's missing memories is "because of the resurrection." That's it.

Here's where I jump from canon stuff to the implications I picked up through the different routes, focusing on the how aspect:

Similar to what other creators have pointed out in the past, MC's amnesia bears a lot of similarities to amnesia caused by traumatic brain injuries or (in my opinion) trauma in general. Based off of the occasions where MC is able to recover their own memory of dying, it seems like in at least some routes, the memories are still in there. They're just suppressed by a mysterious something. Given how the memory loss is associated with strong headaches, how said headaches are triggered by attempts to remember or vivid references to the past, and how attempting to forcibly remember something has led to further damage in the past, MC does seem to be in the middle of a nonlinear healing journey. As several of the routes progress, we can even see MC being able to succeed at mental tasks with lower levels of difficulty when previously it would have resulted in a debilitating headache.

My personal conclusion from all of that is that MC's amnesia is the result of the sheer trauma of dying and then coming back. It's a mind boggling experience simply to process the facts of what happened - let alone the physical and emotional experience. The story picks up with MC having physically recovered enough to live independently, and continues with MC's mental and emotional growth into fully growing into themself (in the upright endings). In some routes, they're able to recall a memory of their own as the story progresses, in other routes, any knowledge MC receives of the past is from other perspectives. Which leads to one of the biggest questions: can MC get them all back?

Some of our best clues outside of MC's personal narrative are the two other characters involved with returning missing memories: Muriel and Julian. (Asra, we know, forgot the details of the ritual itself, but otherwise has all memories intact. Nadia's missing all memories since entering Vesuvia for the first time, but it's never clear how much she gets back.) Julian recovers his memories when he reverses his deal with the Hanged Man, choosing to live as a normal person again with MC so that he can piece together the answer to the Plague. In his case, all the memories come back at once, fully intact.

Muriel's situation is different. He doesn't have any memories missing, he just has the capacity to take away the memories of the people around him. At first, the method for returning those memories is a sensory trigger (myrrh), but as time goes on and the deal loses its effect, the memories seem to slowly return to the people around him. It's different from Julian suddenly having access to the full breadth of his memories again, but the overall effect is the same: the lack of memory is resolved to the point that "normal" functioning can resume.

So, what does that say about MC's case? In short - anything. It really is up to how you imagine your MC, their past, the specific dynamic they have with their specific LI, how their future progresses post canon, etc. There's canon examples of characters regaining their memories gradually over time, getting them all back at once as the result of a deal, or simply learning to move forward and embrace the chance to start anew. And these are just examples of the default apprentice - there are plenty of MCs with gorgeously fleshed out backgrounds whose stories are their own twist on canon, where none of this really applies!

In short, how MC interacts with their missing memories is largely dependent on who your MC is. As to why they're missing - it's written as being because of MC dying and coming back. Whether that's due to the nature of it being trauma/a traumatic brain injury, or whatever other reason you can think of, is up to you ^.^

Cheers friend!

brainrot

[soft-girl-musings]

Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps - CHAPTER 5 (Something's Gotta Give)

Noir!Jake Lockley x WOC Lounge Singer!Reader

written in collaboration with + header by @mrs-lockley

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4

cross-posted to ao3

tags: late 1940s Noir AU, Reader is WOC coded but with no physical description besides being slightly taller than Jake while wearing heels, no use of Y/N, brief mention of past injury, spanish translation at end (courtesy of @queerponcho, thank you beloved)

wc: 3.4k

fic summary: Of all the gin joints in all the world, Jake Lockley walks into yours. Unfortunately for him, it's not quite the start of a beautiful friendship.

chapter summary: immovable object? the unstoppable force would like a word.

__________

As far as peace offerings go, it’s not the worst.

At least, that’s what you’ve told yourself as you stand outside your neighbor’s apartment, your fist failing to close the distance and knock. In one hand you hold a plate of pastries you’d bought earlier. Hopefully it’s enough.

Before you can raise your hand again, the door whips open. 

Leah Mendoza, ever the force to be reckoned with, stands with arms akimbo and eyebrow raised. “Quit shuffling your feet and come inside, nena.”

You oblige wordlessly. Crossing the threshold, you immediately feel the warmth of her apartment embrace you. Not that she’s escaped the chill that plagues your building; Leah is an artist, and every flat surface serves as either canvas or easel. Most spaces are covered in surreal portraits and near-magical icons, her handiwork displayed as a gorgeously chaotic gallery. Sunlight streams through gauzy curtains to feed sprawling plants and attempts to warm the richly colored rug beneath your feet.

You leave your shoes at the door and hold out the platter, smiling sheepishly. “Hope you still have a sweet tooth.”

“It's been so long, I'm surprised you remember.” Despite her playfully icy tone, Leah’s expression warms as she peeks at the pan de mallorca you hand over.

“...But I suppose going five blocks out of your way for breakfast makes up for it.” She nudges you with her hip before escorting  you to the kitchen.

“Look what the cat dragged in, Caro,” Leah calls out to the seating area as she pours two mugs of coffee. You see your other friend’s smiling eyes light up at the sight of you.

“Ohhh, it’s been ages!” she squeals as she rushes to your side, tackling you with an enthusiastic hug.

Caroline Ngo, the youngest of your trio, has always brought a much-needed energy to your time together. When she and her parents moved in, you and Leah decided to adopt her into your early morning ritual of coffee and gossip. As her rosy cheeks beam up at you, you’re (a bit selfishly) grateful that she’s delayed her college applications by a year. You’re not ready to part with your other baby bird just yet.

Still, you pry yourself from her grasp. “Something tells me you had an early start on the coffee.”

“Maybe,” she drawls as she saunters away. Leah passes you a steaming mug, prepared just the way you like it.

The three of you sit, sipping and smiling as the room grows brighter with the sunrise. Leah regales you with the results of her latest art show; Caroline badgers you for updates about Mauricio, dimpled cheeks flushed as she speaks. For a few moments, everything feels like it used to.

Leah finishes her pastry and turns to you. “So, ‘Ms. Songbird’. How are you?”

You shrug, dismissive. “Oh, you know. The usual.”

“No, I don’t know. You haven't been around for us to see your ‘usual’.” Leah's voice is measured, but she’s clearly frustrated. “Can you tell me the last time we've heard more than a ‘good morning’ from you? Or were together for longer than an elevator ride to our floor?”

You chuckle nervously. “Goodness, maybe… August? September?”

“June.” She sips her coffee before setting it down. “Are things really so busy at work that you can't spare a moment for us anymore?”

If only you knew.

“I'm sorry, ladies. Truly. But things have been picking up at the lounge, I've even had to get outside help–”

“Ah yes, the altar boy lawyer.” Leah shakes her head. “I thought you were done with him.”

“‘Done with him?’ Leah, he's my friend.”

“Oh, I recall. So good a friend that he lets you ice his bruises and clean his cuts.” She crosses her arms. “So good, he's even bringing new friends with the same scrapes to your door.”

“The other night was an emergency–”

“How long are you going to run around with that kind of crowd?” Her voice bites. “Believe me, I know my share of the nightlife. But every time you bring home some broken man, a load of trouble seems to follow.”

This is not where you saw the morning going. “I thought we were spending time together, not berating the company I keep.”

“Please don't be upset,” Caroline pleads, taking your hand from her seat on the floor. “We miss you. You haven’t been home in weeks,” she laments. “At least, not for more than a couple of hours.”

You shift in your seat but give her hand a light squeeze. “I've missed you, too.”

“Then do something about it.” Leah gets up, crossing the room to distract herself with more coffee but then doubles back to look you in the eyes.

“You know my gut is never wrong, nena. And I wouldn't be a good friend if I didn't speak my mind.”

You brace yourself as she continues. “You can spend your nights hiding behind your Songbird persona and running the lounge, but don't be surprised if the cage you're building around yourself is locked from the inside.”

With that, she turns on her heel and heads back to the kitchen, leaving you and Caroline in silence.

Slowly, Caroline slides into Leah’s empty seat, her hand still on yours.

“... I always liked your stage name.”

You don’t say anything, instead letting your eyes trail through the patterns on the rug.

She scoots closer. “Leah’s just looking out for you. Like always.”

“I know, Caro.”

You feel her head rest on your shoulder. Tough love has always been Leah’s strong suit; as hard as you are on your boys, it’s bush league compared to your friend.

Caroline’s next words are low, whispered just loud enough for you to hear. “I know that man you were helping.”

You look down at her, dumbfounded. “Really? You know Jake?”

She sits up, eyes wide again. “Well, not technically. I never learned his name. But when he was leaving your apartment, I recognized his face.” Her small smile grows as she speaks. “There were days I’d stay out late after school, and I’d catch a ride from him sometimes. He’s really kind, not like some of the other cab drivers.”

Concern suddenly sweeps across her face. “Is he going to be alright?”

You think back to the morning he left your apartment: his bruises, your stitches, the blood that still stained his coat…

His hand on your hand, your face…

You don’t feel your fingers grazing the apple of your cheek until you hear Caroline giggle. Your hand drops to your lap as your face warms. “He’ll be fine. If he wised up and saw a real doctor, that is.” You shrug, reaching for your coffee.

“You care about him,” she teases.

“Oh, come off it,” you huff, nudging her leg with yours.

“And he obviously cares about you!” She squeals, lowering her voice when Leah turns her head toward the noise. “I saw him leave your apartment, but he stood there for ages, staring at your door.” Her grip on your hand grows unbearably tight. “What happened that night?”

You’ve been asking yourself the same question from the moment he left you standing in a bloodstained gown, your apartment colder without him. Since then, there hasn’t been a moment where you’ve been free from the memory of his face.

“I did him a favor. And… he may have done one for me, too.”

__________

Jake Lockley is man enough to admit when he’s been beaten.

In this case, he's absolutely won over. Head-over-heels, and at your mercy.

Maybe years from now, society adopts stricter rules for how soon you should call on a lady. Even today, some would advise against showing your hand too early. Some men wouldn’t want to seem too eager, too desperate.

But Jake Lockley is not a liar.

If “desperate” is the word for the incessant drumming in his chest each time you come to mind; if it’s what has him cutting corners and driving recklessly, ushering customers along at double the pace so his thoughts can return to you; if it’s why his palms sweat and nerves ache at the memory of your face that night, that morning… then Jake Lockley is desperate.

It’s hardly been a day and a half since he left your apartment, cold and injured. The suit stitched him back together in seconds; the only ache that remained was at the thought of you. You, who scooped him off the pavement and took pity on him. Who stained your hands with his blood to make it stop. You, who set his skin on fire with the smallest touch and had him convinced he would burn with or without it.

Screw the three day rule. He has to see you.

Hot under the collar, Jake now sits at the bar– your bar, long before normal business hours. Next to him is Matt, whose face hasn’t untwisted from the wry grin he’s had from the moment they met up.

“It’s like a jackhammer,” he chuckles into his glass, dodging Jake’s backhand swing.

“Can it, Murdock.” Jake’s hand returns to his own drink. Downing the rest, he raises his glass to the bartender. “Top me off, Mr. Manalo.”

Teddy obliges with shaking hands. He scoops up the bills Jake slides his way before dashing off. The two men had asked for privacy, and he’s determined to stay in their good graces.

Jake knocks back the new drink, swiping the excess from his lip as Matt’s laughter grows louder.

“You really need to calm down.”

“That’s what this was for,” Jake retorts, shaking his glass so the ice clinks against the edge. It’s doing him little good, though; from the moment he snuck in here that stormy night, he knew The Paper Moon as an extension of you. Even with the house lights up and nobody onstage, the lounge makes his heart race as quickly as if you were right beside him.

Matt claps a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll be alright, you’ve been through worse.”

“Yeah,” Jake snorts. Matt’s quiet for a suspicious amount of time. “What’s on your mind, Murdock?”

“What’s on yours?” Telltale concern creeps into his voice. “How are things up there lately?”

Jake smirks, the expression not reaching his eyes. “Oh, you know. Loud… and quiet, in all the wrong ways.”

“Seems quieter than before.”

“Yeah?” Jake cocks an eyebrow. His mind doesn’t feel quieter, not the way it should. Khonshu’s been on his ass more often, doubling down when his thoughts dare to drift to anything besides the mission at hand. The god throwing a tantrum has become one of the few guarantees that remain.

“I mean it,” Matt reassures him. “It’s like night and day from when you returned stateside.” 

Jake stirs the ice in his glass, tempted to hop the counter and refill it himself. It takes everything in him to repress the memory of “before,” to not think of the bloody business in El-Alamein. To forget when the occupancy of his mind dropped from three to two.

“Must be the good old American soil.” His sneer drops as he considers his next words. “... or the fool of a pro bono lawyer I managed to snag.”

“Maybe,” Matt says. “Or it could be the little bird that's caught your ear.”

Before Jake can respond, a pair of footsteps cross onto the stage behind them.

He turns to see you and Mauricio, backs to the house, talking in rushed succession as you survey the stage. You’re in a blouse and trousers, your movements easy and unrehearsed despite the growing exasperation in your voice. 

“Maurie, I don't care how Leo feels the lights bounces off his new mustache wax, unless he can't follow my cues he's staying stage left. And–”

“No days off for you, are there?”

When you turn you see Jake, hat in hand and standing a few steps from the bar, as if he’d walked toward you but stopped halfway up the aisle. You can’t place the look on his face, but you're nevertheless pinned under the gaze of his now-healed eyes shining up at you.

“JAKE!” Mauricio startles you when he shouts, leaping off the stage to clasp hands with the older man.

“Hermano,” Jake chuckles, pulling him into a quick hug before letting go. “¿No te andas metiendo en problemas, eh?” 

“¿Parece que tu eres el que anda causando problemas, ey botero? ¿De dónde salió esa cicatriz?" Mauricio leans in, examining the pale line running through Jake’s eyebrow with awe.     

“Ah, just a scratch.” Jake shrugs as he brushes past him to approach the stage and offers his hand as you step down. You accept, hoping he doesn’t notice the slight tremor in your grasp.

“Leave the man alone, Maurie,” you chide, nodding your thanks and holding back a laugh. As much as Caroline fawns over you, Mauricio seems to do the same to Jake whenever their paths cross. It helps that he plays along.

As the three of you walk back to the bar, you notice Matt dial in to something and smile– far from his normal reaction. 

“I’m afraid I can’t offer you more than another drink, I have an appointment with Matthew this afternoon.” You cross over to your friend, whose smile only grows as you draw closer. But you brush it off, still focused on Jake.

“Actually,” he starts, his hand sliding into his pocket, “I was hoping to cut in on your consult time for a moment. That alright with you, doll?”

Matt clears his throat. “Mauricio, can you take me backstage? I should start unpacking this file.”

The drummer perks up. “Sure! But the band’s getting ready to play some poker… you feel like teaming up again? We can split the pot like usual.”

“Even better,” Matt grins. “Lead on.”

He gathers his portfolio and walking stick to follow. If you didn’t know better, you’d swear you could see a moment of panic flicker across Jake’s face.

It’s replaced in a flash with his usual smirk. “Sure you want to risk your pocket change, Matty?”

“If all my clients paid like you do, I'd be out of a job.” He collects himself and follows Mauricio’s footsteps, turning to Jake and mouthing “jackhammer” with a hand to his chest when he’s behind you.

Their footfalls fade and it’s just the two of you at the bar. You take a seat, drumming your fingers on the surface to soothe your nerves. Jake sits beside you.

“You look better.” You notice the scar Maurie was talking about: his former head wound is free of your haphazard stitches, instead healed into a light dash through his dark brow. “But I told you that would scar.”

He shakes his head, brushing his fingers past the spot. “I kinda like it. Gives me an edge,” he chuckles. Maybe Khonshu hadn’t healed his face the way he normally would as some sort of lesson. Joke’s on him.

“How did… I mean, you look really good, how did you recover so quickly?” Now that you’re closer, you realize there’s no sign he was hurt just two days ago. If not for his scar, you could pass that night off as some sort of dream.

“You told me to see a doctor, didn’t you? Looks like I’ve got the best one around.” 

You eye him, not sure what to think. “... yeah, alright.”

Your fingers drum the bar again. Maybe that night knocked all of Jake’s suave confidence from his head: when he’s not speaking (something you’re still not used to), he looks like a child about to lose his lunch. For all his urgency a few minutes ago, he’s taking his sweet time getting to the point.

Finally he sits up straight and takes something out of his pocket. “Here. For you, morena.”

A small black box slides toward you, stopping at your restless fingers. You raise an eyebrow quizzically, a familiar warmth spreading across your cheeks.

“A present? Didn’t take you for the ‘holly-jolly’ type.” You pick up the box, feeling its velvet casing and fighting back a smile.

“Nah, not really a Christmas guy myself. But I figured you could use a pick-me-up.” Jake crosses one arm along the bar, propping his chin in his other hand as he watches you open the box.

Inside, you see a delicate gold chain with a charm fastened to its middle: a small bird with its wings spread, intricate designs etched into its surface.

“Oh my…” You look back at Jake, who seems to have been holding his breath as you examine your gift. 

Your slowly unfolding smile is all the reward he could ask for, breathless laughter pushed from his chest with relief. “For the songbird,” he casually declares, relief mixing with pride at your reaction.

You take the necklace out and hold it to the light. “It’s beautiful,” you sigh. You undo the clasp and try to put it on yourself, but your fingers can’t seem to make it fasten.

“Allow me,” he says quickly, standing to move behind you and assist.

You feel his hands take over and drop your own in your lap. His knuckles brush the back of your neck and it takes everything in you not to shiver. The smell of smoke and spice dances on your senses, pulled away all too soon when he moves to stand in front of you.

“There,” he breathes, eyes going from the pendant draped below your collar to your eyes. “Looks perfect.”

Your fingers grasp the cool metal as you nod. “Looks perfect.” 

Silence falls again. You’ve come to hate the sound of nothing when you’re with him.

Jake’s the first to break it. He sits back down, his next words like a punch to the gut. “You know, now that I’m not driving Wesley around… I won’t have to take up space at your back table anymore.”

“Oh. No, I suppose not.” You toy with the charm around your neck. “So is this… goodbye?”

“That depends,” he says cautiously.  He turns to you, eyes swimming with the same unfamiliar mix of emotions from before. “Do you want it to be?”

Your fingers leave your neck as you meet his gaze. “Don't say you're going all soft on me, cabbie.”

“What if I was?” He leans forward, and for the first time you don't back away.

“Cards on the table: I haven't stopped thinking about you.”

That makes two of us. You bite your tongue to let him continue.

“Morena… would you ever want to get out of here? Just you and me, call it a truce or a… a date.” A smile plays on his lips before his brow creases. “I won't badger you after today, just… one way or another, put me out of my misery.”

The wings of the charm feel heavier with the weight of his confession. Hand to your heart, you feel the bird again, this time with Leah's warning running through your mind.

“I suppose a truce wouldn't hurt.”

When he smiles, wider than ever, you see the charming gap in his teeth. And you smile, too.  You both laugh, the heated stress in your nerves turning to effervescent relief.

You could spend an hour like this. But when you hear shouts of frustration and a bilingual litany of choice words echo from backstage, you know you have to go put out a different fire.

“I should make sure Matthew isn't in trouble,” you sigh, standing to straighten yourself.

“If I know Matt, he's the one causing the trouble.” Jake stands with you, desperate for this moment not to end but anxious for your next answer. “So when can we–”

“Sunday night,” you cut him off, starting to back away toward the stage. “I'll figure out how to slip away, but meet me under the sign at 9.”

You move to rush toward the stage at another outburst, but Jake's hand catches yours yet again.

“You can't keep doing that,” you groan, yet with a smile still on your lips as he tugs you back toward him.

“You're the boss,” he hums, pressing his lips to the back of your hand– the gesture all too routine, but you're ready to admit you've missed it.

He releases your hand and dons his cap, tipping it to you. You laugh again, a rich and easy sound he'd never tire of hearing. You bow slightly and dash backstage, with Jake's voice calling to you as you leave.

“See you Sunday, Songbird."

__________

“¿No te andas metiendo en problemas, eh?” - Not getting yourself into any problems, eh?

“¿Parece que tu eres el que anda causando problemas, ey botero? ¿De dónde salió esa cicatriz?" - Seems like you’re the one causing troubles, hey cabbie? Where did that scar come from?

note: in-universe Jake is Guatemalan and Mauricio is Cuban; as a non-spanish speaker, please let me know how i can improve in the future!

A/N: i've missed these two!! this chapter was a doozy but i'm so happy to have gotten back on track. i won't say PPP is on hiatus (we never had a promised release schedule) but after i take a wee break from writing, i'm set on finishing my Moon Knight Bingo prompts before 4/30 + starting on my OI fanzine entries (!!! exciting times). but if inspiration strikes before i finish, i certainly won't complain.

ty for reading!!

tag list: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @mercurysjoy, @importantnightwerewolf, @cupidysm, @queerponcho, @nerdieforpedro, @fandxmslxt69, @shadystarlightgentlemen, @lunar-ghoulie, @casa-boiardi (lmk if you'd like to be added to/removed from this wee tag list)

[apollosgiftofprophecy]

I made this post and then wrote this little snippet :3

enjoy.

---

Apollo cocked his head like an intrigued wolf. Half his consciousness watched Electra as she hurried her little brother away, anxiously glancing over her shoulder as they ran down the halls.

"How old is he?" He suddenly asked.

Hermes blinked, glancing askance at him. "Who?"

"The boy," Apollo's invisible eye watched as the boy tugged on his sister's hand, mouth moving as if imploring her to come with him. "Orestes."

His brother shrugged.  "Ten? Twelve? I'm not sure."

Older than the war, for sure. Hadn't he been a mere babe when Iphigenia was sacrificed? Ten, at the very least. Most likely eleven.

Apollo turned his whole attention to Orestes as a servant woman gently took his hand, respectfully dipping her head to Electra, and drew him away - away from his home, from his bloodlusted mother.

From his sister.

He continued to watch. Electra retreated back into the palace, sneaking through the servant's quarters. Orestes kept looking back, brows furrowed with confusion and eyes tearing up when the realization she wasn't coming back hit him.

The servant attempted to comfort him, scooping the now-crying boy into her arms and running faster, but he struggled and began screaming for Electra.

Orestes. A young boy forcible exiled from what was rightfully his. Separated from his sister - from his family - because of the actions of a vengeful queen.

The scene echoed one Apollo was intimately familiar with. Though, with a few notable differences.

Still. The similarities were there. Perhaps not a deadringer for his own young life but...it was there.

Apollo crossed his arms and felt the tightly-wound knot in his chest soften - not loosen, or even untie itself, but...soften.

He's always had a soft spot for children. Even if he had killed a few himself.

Orestes, however, would not be one of those unlucky boys. No, Apollo could sense he would play a major role on day - he would be the reckoning of Clytemnestra and Aegisthus.

And, perhaps, of the House of Atreus's curse.

"You're plotting something," Hermes's voice drew part of his attention away. His brother's lips were quirked and his arms rested on his caduceus. "What're you up to?"

Apollo glanced back at Orestes and the maid as they struggled through the woods.

"Just some spring cleaning," He lightly replied. "Give me...about a decade, and that particular mess," Apollo inclined his head towards the palace of Argos, where Clytemnestra prowled around, looking for her young son now far from her bloody grasp. "Will be gone."

Hermes's eyes widened. "That's a tall order, Apollo," he dubiously said. "No one in the House of Atreus has escaped that curse."

Apollo hummed. "Menelaus did. Why not Orestes?"

His brother's eyes brightened with understanding. "You're going to have Orestes break the curse?" He laughed disbelievingly. "How? He'll still be killing his own mother. The curse will continue."

Apollo merely hummed for an answer.

True, matricide would continue the curse. But he'll find a way to rid the world of it. It had plagued it for far too long, and he would know!

He was the god of plagues, for Fates' sake! If he had to clean up this mess himself, he will.

...And if Cassandra's soul would find peace with the deaths of her murderers...even better.

Still keeping a sliver of his consciousness on Orestes, Apollo sought out the room where the bloody murders had transpired.

It was a ghastly scene. Agamemnon's body was sprawled on the floor, tunic and cloak ripped and dripping with drying blood. His eyes were vacant and unseeing - irrevocably dead.

But Apollo paid him no mind. His eyes were drawn to the second slumped figure, dark red hair spilled over the ground, dark enough to be mistaken for the blood that crested her chest. Her eyes were closed, the deep, mysterious blue that had twinkled with curiosity forever deprived of their spark. Her deep tan was stained with both her own and Agamemnon's blood, as was her purple peplos, torn and dirtied.

He swallowed the lump in his throat.

Cassandra.

[theresattrpgforthat]

Hi folks, it’s Mint.

I’m on a mini-vacation this week so I’m going to be releasing some recommendation posts for things that aren’t related to requests (easy to queue), and I’ll be back to doing regular rec posts when I get back!

THEME: Cryptids

Whether you’re tracking them down in order to give them your heart or running as fast as you can in the opposite direction, these games are all about mysterious creatures (that usually live in the woods).

OKCryptid, by Tadhg Lyon.

You’ll never forget that night.

You had heard the legends before, of course, everyone had.  Now that you know the creature is real, one thought keeps playing through your mind:

Their eyes were… beautiful. You want to see them again.

Okcryptid is a tarot-based, GMless roleplaying game about finding mysterious, secretive, beautiful creatures, and hopefully, dating them. It can be played by 2-5 players, or as a solo journaling experience.

Regardless of whether you play this game solo or in a group, you will be investigating a single creature or cryptid. You can create a cryptid of your own, or roll from a provided table to make a completely new cryptid. You use a deck of tarot cards to represent facts about the Creature, bring you closer to the final Meeting, or provide prompts for each investigative scene of the game. Characters also have personal scales that will measure how much the Creature either wants to kiss them or kill them, which will affect how the final Meeting goes. If you want a game with a mix of romance and creepy thrills, you might want to check out OKCryptid!

Cryptid TV, by yanahn.

A plague of Reality TV stars has descended upon the sleepy town of Mountain Lake ready to hunt down (and capture on camera) anything that looks even remotely like a cryptid - your crew is among them to cause drama, fake hoaxes, and enact sabotage beyond all reckoning.

The catch? You have only a passing familiarity with eldritch world of Showbiz, also you are all SPOOKY CRYPTIDS.

Cryptid TV is a truly charming hack of Honey Heist that pits your characters against the world of reality TV. You can choose whatever Cryptid you like, although there are six recommended cryptos that come with special powers to make situations really interesting. Will you unveil yourself as a Cryptid and lose all sense of peace and quiet? Will you sell out and move to Hollywood to seek out fame and fortune? Or will you succeed in driving the producers away without blowing your cover?

If you like goofy situations and you want a chill one-shot for the cryptid - lovers in your life, you’ll want to check out Cryptid TV.

Cryptid Rescue, by Renasdoodles.

One of your own has been captured and you’ve taken it upon yourselves to rescue them! One problem: you’re all cryptids and need to keep from being discovered or you too will be captured!

Cryptid Rescue is a one-page RPG that can be played through within a few hours. 

This is a cute little game with two main stats: Stealth and Fright. Each cryptid also has an Attention bar that leads to your capture should you fill it all the way. You fill this bar a little when you successfully frighten someone or fail at stealth, and you empty it a little when you fail to frighten someone or successfully sneak somewhere. The game also comes with a few small roll-tables for the GM to figure out who was captured, where they are now, and what kinds of obstacles will stand in the way between our adventurous little monsters and their friend. If you want a cute, free game with a simple premise, you might want to check out Cryptid Rescue.

The Mystery Creature of Claytonsville, PA, by Nick Wedig.

That summer, our small town deep in rural Pennsylvania was abuzz with strange tales of the supernatural creature.  No two stories of the creature entirely agreed with each other. Everyone who encountered the creature seemed to see what they needed to see. 

Some who found the creature were terrified. Others were spurred out of their stifling, mundane lives. In the end, the creature left the town with more questions than answers. But the lives of the each witness would each be changed forever.

Once the stories started, they came in more and more frequently throughout the year. Then just as they reached a crescendo, the encounters suddenly stopped.

This game can be played in a group as large as 7, or as small as one - just by yourself. You use a deck of playing cards as an oracle for answering questions, both about the town that you live in and the protagonist that the group will be telling the story about. No matter the group size, there will only be one protagonist! After you set the scene and define your main character, the deck of cards is used to determine what obstacles show up, whether the character succeeds or fails, and what aspects of the story come to the forefront in each scene.

This game feels like a cross between a narrative storytelling exercise and a card game, so if you want to introduce storytelling to a group that likes that tactile sensations of board-games, you might find some luck with The Mystery Creature of Claytonsville, PA.

Expedition: Incredizoology, by Imagined Chaos Games.

Explore the Wyldes, pockets of our World where fantastical and mythical creatures roam freely. Trap, train, hunt and co-exist with these creatures and explore the incredible lands they inhabit. 

Incredizoology can be played solo, cooperative or with an 'Expedition Leader' leading the expedition. The Imagined Chaos System utilises the full gamut of your polyhedral dice, moment cards to resolve combat and encounters as well as extensive roll tables for exploration. 

I don’t think this necessarily needs to be focused on cryptids, but there certainly seems to be room for it. The focus is not just on the creatures that you’re exploring, but also the environment they live in: you’ll have to navigate the natural environment, account for the weather, and interact with strange plants as well! There’s also room to explore how people make themselves at home in wild places, although the fact that the default setting is in a colonial period may be a bit of a downside for some players.

I wonder if you could alter the setting to allow for expeditions in different times and places. For example, if you are explorers in a sci-fi setting or a space setting, what changes might you make to make exploration challenging? I’m also curious if you could combine this game with a creature creation game, such as Exquisite Biome, a creature generator that also considers the ecosystems of various fantastic creatures.

You can download free character sheets if you want to take a look at a few bits and pieces, and look at a review for this game on The Gaming Table’s Youtube channel!

MOTH//MAN, by Witch & Craft Games.

A night in the woods…a light in the darkness…an unearthly transformation…

Can you survive the MOTHMAN?

Armed with nothing but your wits, tools, and the clothes on your back, you must brave the forest that this mysterious creature calls home. Your reasons for walking this perilous path are your own…as are those of everyone around you. Every bump in the road is a potential danger, an irresistible call drawing the beast ever closer. One wrong move, and you might find that it had been lurking closer than you ever thought possible.

When the monster finally reveals itself, the night really begins, and only one question remains:

Who is MOTH, and who is MAN?

This game looks to be more suited for fans who like to mix a bit more horror into their Cryptid mix. Moth-Man is likely a real threat - especially since it looks like some party members might actually turn into a MothMan! If you want a game of suspense, surprise, and perhaps even a little PVP, you might like MOTH//MAN.

Loveland, by JD.

Hundreds of years after climate change killed humanity, the cryptids inherited the Earth. Living in the area once known as Loveland, Ohio are the Frogfolk. Not as strong or sophisticated as other new societies, their success can be attributed to their teamwork. Within their village each Frog is a member of a guild. Some are craftsmen, others provide services, but all are equally important in the survival of the village.

You are a member of the Gatherers Guild. It’s your job to venture out of the village, gather supplies, explore ancient ruins, and communicate with other factions.

I find the idea of playing Frogfolk very charming, and I also like the fact that there are various Cryptid factions in this world, including goat-men, moth-men, and green-furred Grasskin. The game seems to revolve around gathering items that various guild factions can use to craft items for you, which will in turn help you venture farther and farther afield. Magic exists in items called Wands, and can only be used once per day before it needs to re-charge. The game is very well suited for dungeon-crawls, pointcrawls, hex-crawls… name a crawl and you can probably do it in this game. If you’re a bit of an OSR fan and you like exploration, you might be interested in Loveland.

Other Games You Might Want To Check Out

Sleepaway, by Jay Dragon.

Apocalypse Roadtrip, by Mina Lenahan.

Cryptozoologist by riseofpanic.

Camp Cryptid, by Certified Milkboy Games.

[pluralquotebook]

Welcome!!

This blog serves to act as a collection of funny things that people in systems say! The less context or explanation, the better! Quotes don't necessarily need to be system-related.

Quote Submissions are always allowed and open!!!

You can send in your own silly quotes via the ask box! Anonymous is enabled, and you can give yourself/your system a sign off (Words or Emojis) if you'd like! Quotes are set on a queue to be posted once every three hours.

This blog is accepting of systems of all origins! No exclusion here. Because of that, we ask that anti-endos/anti-nontraumagenics refrain from interacting with this blog. Please visit @/your-system-said-what instead! Aside from that, however, we do not really have a DNI.

You can use any typing quirks, fancy fonts, and/or colored text in your quote! Just know that we will re-type it in plain text so that people can properly read it.

Posts with potentially triggering topics will be tagged with #tw [thing] or #cw [thing] (brackets not included). Please don't hesitate to ask us to tag something for you, and please inform us if we forget a warning!

Taken System Signoffs are below the cut.

Taken System Signoffs

(List is updated as soon as your post is added to the queue)

🛣️ (Mod Roadtrip) 💠💎 (Mod Paradise) 🧦 The Night System Invisible Anon 🍀💚 💠💌 💜🟦 🌈 ⛏️🪦 🌲🐰 💛 🩹☁️ 🪙💀 🕸️ 🐦‍⬛🐈‍⬛ ✨💫 🐞☀️ Nero 🐇 🪼🌙🗯️ 🌟🪦 Sem' System 🧪 🃏 🐋 [[Neon Bridge System]] / 🟢🌉 🟧 🌦️ ♠️ [🦋] anon The Iris System / 🌈👾 Dialup Network ✒️📼 YggySys Sega System 🌪️🎈 🧬 C&C 🌳 🩷💜🐦 🌪🐾 🌧️⁂ 🌌 🎞️ The Dreamer System The Deck of Cards Sys 💻 The Harvest System and/or ☀️🌾 Abbreviators Anonymous System / 💠🫠 The Corporate Tower a pissed off lichen ☁️🐝 💜😶‍🌫️ e.s. ⚜️ 💛🐉 Unknown / 🐾🏳️‍🌈 {💥🖋} The Rainforest Hotel The Collectives The Featherlight Collective 💌🍴 ⛈️ / Lightning Storm Sys 🦔🫀 ✨✨ 🎭 👁📚 / The Archive System / The Archivists 👁📺 🐍♾ 🚨 🌺❄️ ⭐️🤘 system 💙🔥 ┈ ⚔️ ✦ (Formerly known as || 🎧 ✦) ♟ 🎺🐄 The Hounds' Realm The Black Mesa system 🌮🐈‍⬛ nw💫 🌑👥✨ rabbitheart collective (Formerly known as skyboxsys) UnknownOS 🐾🌸 👑 sys 🎻 🪶🐸 [[Prime Directive]] -fsys The Blitz Batch CIC🌐 🌳💥 👁️🌌 shared memories median 🌌♾️ Radio Static System 🍣🍱 sys Median Dragon Collective the turnip collective 🌠🔮 / ender eyes Garden-of-Monsters 🦠🐾 The First Ones Squadron📜🗡️ Nicole (i think) The Maple System 🍁 Starry Nights Co ghost.os 🍒sys cabbage soda collective ✨🕯️ ☀️🌊/🌊☀️ ✨⚫️✨ the legion system 🖤🪄 🌌💫 golden void crew 🌘✨ 🌳🏠 💜🟦♦️ Patchwork System Real Funny Squad 🪤✨ 🌿 The Analog Sys The Teacake Cluster the Eldritch Enclave 🐀 📼 The Big Brother House Paranormal The Radio Waves 🩶 🌌Paradox (~~ 💎📶 / crystalline.network) 🎼TSS sundaysociety 🐾🌫 ☀️💭 🍄🌌 moth system the reckoning TOWC 🌿🧺 🩸🕳️ 4️⃣🦝 🦑🏠 IPI 💐🌼🔅 🍃 the 🌌🌱 collective 🎭🌀 TINS Galaxy Brain Constellation 🎭✨ 🪴🏠 🍰♡ the Labyrinth system 💭🌎 💫✨ the leaf mischief 🎨✨ 🪱🐉 🌋🌐 system 🍄⛺ 🐎 🎸🎃 🧃☻ 🌊 CC system The Dreamy Horrors Symphony 🫖🌹 (Tea Rose Cafe) ☁️🏠 The Syndicate the uncharted system 🍇✨ IHS⁰⁵ 🔮🗒️🖍️ Sewage System 🥩🎉🍕 🐝💝 ~ 🌱 ~ 💌 🌌🦭 🎲 🐦‍⬛🌄 system 🍊 🐺💥 ✈️💥 👓👓 🪰🌲 📺 TV System 🐧🎸 🌕🗝 🦈 biohazard WS★ the storm cloud collective Purple People System 🎪💫🎡 ♟💭 the soupy system 🐾🪓 👀🖤 🐞🌈 sparkle sparkle gambling system 🧀 Sharkfeed System Lunar Collective 🌌🐚 Cosmonautilus Collective The Factory System 🦋🌕 (⭐) 🥩🦴 Celestial Stories Collective ( 📖 🌌 ) 🎩👁 the eco-system 🌌✨️ 🎪🌈 🪶📜 🪦🌸 Rean the garden party 🫖🍵🥟🍙 Tulpar Collective 🐈🐕💀🌳 the medusa system theprecuresystem 🪻sys The Cult Collective 🕛🌫️ 💫🌱 ☕️🪶 ✨️🍄 the starlight legion (🌆☄️) the Chiaroscuro Collective 🦉🌙 🗡️🌫️ 🌈🔀 🐺🎀🔪🧠 OSS 📺🔘 🕳️🐀 Aurora sys 📓📖 😶🔇 Void collective 🌫️🌲 :1 The Mental Radio / 📞📻🎙️ Oleander and Amaryllis 🪷 🦌 🍰💝 the plague system / 🎸🌈 🔪🗝 🪦🌼 🍎 System.exe 💡🏠 🌹🌌 system 🎭♾️ system 🌌🖌️ 🥤 🎸 🍒🥤 The Chaos Collective ♟️ 🪐 🌑🍄 system ~ The Flower Field System ~ The Fish Flock Shifting System Unknown 💜🥀 ⚛️ sys 🥧☕ ☔ the watchers' vault collective The Systew 🈷️💠✡️ 🦷🌸 fmdc Lunarian Network! 💐🎂🌛 🌌🌠 💻🐰 Starlit collective

[moon-upright]

Outlooks on the World - Esme + M6

headcanons about how my apprentice and the main 6 view life as a whole. because i got the idea in my head. i think this makes sense

Esme sees the world as a bad place, but individuals can make it better

After a stressful childhood which ended rather unfortunately, Esme grew resentful of the people and potential forces that made it that way

For much of her life she sees the world as an unfair place without true justice or karma — if there are higher beings, they are either uncaring or cruel

But she knows for a fact that there are good people out there, and she'd be doing them a disservice to forget them and say everything is all bad

One way Esme grows through and post-route, is improving her outlook on life and humanity as a whole, becoming less withdrawn and spiteful, more open

Julian's outlook is sort of the inverse of Esme's — the world is a good place overall, with some individuals and things that make it worse... (hear me out)

He very much loves the world and humanity. He likes people and he likes new experiences

This sounds very positive but you must remember that Julian views himself as one of these bad individuals

Julian does know that things can be unfair and unsafe at times - he's seen a lot of good people struck with misfortune, or even lose their lives

But he doesn't really feel spiteful or resentful of the world as a whole. It's just how fate can turn out (he also tends to find some way to blame himself)

Julian grows by learning to love himself — or at least not hate himself. Self-love might be something he will always be chasing, though. But as long as he doesn't give up that chase, he'll be okay

Asra views the world as just another place, and people are either good or bad, most in between

He likes the world fine, but his experience with the realms means his world is not just larger, but only one of many

He doesn't fully understand ALL magic, but he's close with it in a way where he sees that “fair” and “unfair” aren't always things that apply. “Good” and “bad” are nuanced. The world is colorful yet gray

Sees it as up to each individual to decide what they want and how much they can take. At least on a subconscious level, he thinks that whether he sees someone as good or bad is mostly a matter of his own conscience

He does need to remember that, if everything depends on his own conscience, then he doesn't have control over a lot outside of that

He also needs to maintain balance between all of his worlds - nothing wrong with not wanting to be shackled to one spot or a life you don't want, as long as you don't lose sight of the people in your life.

Portia has the same outlook as her brother, just minus the self-hate

She loves the world, people, and herself

It's not to say she doesn't also get her own negative streaks, but overall she likes who she is

She feels like there's excitement around every corner - and if there isn't, you can make some! (she loves books partly for this reason)

Nadia is in the unique position of having a significant amount of power over a portion of the world (even if it's a relatively small portion)

It's less about how the world inherently is, but how it currently is and what she can do to affect that

If Vesuvia is a microcosm of the world and Vesuvia is corrupt or unjust or bad, then she’ll change that. So she'll change the world

She also isn't among the people, so she isn't exactly a good judge of whether they're good or not. She can definitely say that the upper class is full of not-so-great individuals, but that makes up a minority

She knows that a ruler is nothing without her people

She's been fairly self-actualized since she was a kid, but she lost a bit of that during the plague - though post-route, she's even more of a force to be reckoned with (in a good way)

Muriel doesn't really care about how the world at large is — he's not very interested in traveling, meeting people, or experiencing new things

He's only focused on his life, and maybe the lives of those immediately around him

If it's just about his life, then he thinks it's pretty bad

He managed to find some peace and fulfillment living in nature on his own, but his childhood as an orphan and then a gladiator stains his view of his surroundings

He isn't trusting of others or really even himself.

He loves animals because they're far easier to understand than humans - and if they hurt you, you can find out exactly why

Though he doesn't really see use of asking “why” any of that had to happen to him, because he doesn't think that much about justice — perhaps because thinking too much about it will make him start feeling worse, and he'd rather just forget

Nothing wrong with wanting to live quietly, but he could definitely become more in touch with his emotions and processing his trauma

He, too, judges people not on some overarching moral about how one should be, but more just on his own conscience - for example, he doesn't like Esme/MC at first, not because he thinks they're really a bad human, but for purely personal reasons.

Lucio doesn't really care about whether the world is good or bad

Like Nadia, he has an effect on the world around him, and that's what he sees

He thinks there's a lot of fun to be had and a lot of boring and bothersome things he’d like to get rid of

It's not about whether the people around him are good or not, it's about how they treat him and what they can do

If it's not his world, then it really ought to be

He'd agree with Asra as well, in that he believes it's up to individuals how they treat the world and their own lives

He believes in being the change you want to see, though he doesn't generally take into account what anyone else wants to see - for sure something to work on

[speedygal]

This post accepts the original ending of the conquest of the planet of the apes

Conquest of the planet of the apes is a powerful film displaying what humanity is like after having lost their best friends and a huge chunk of their soul to a plague. No, I am not kidding. Humanity's souls did die arguably. It just took a long time, an awfully long time, for their shell to catch up with that.

They wouldn't treat apes that way if cats and dogs were still around. They wouldn't be in black. They wouldn't look like they're in a state of mourning. Their fashion has sci-fi fascism, or, whatever have you, more precisely, the bad guys vibe.

All the love, fun, tenderness, kindness? It went with the pets. It died in the bonfires. The only slice of that left behind was in those who had strong hearts. Suffered immeasurable loss before in their heart that made living without the ones they love seem tame in comparison. MacDonald, Armando, and the apes.

I'll admit I paid somewhat attention but I still got the story that was being conveyed with remarkable acting and story telling.

Armando was in many ways Ceaser's loved one. His father figure. His guardian. The one who protected him. His death is what sent him down a reckoning. Protecting someone. Protecting something. That he loved so dearly.

Something that shook the entire world. Doomed the entire world. Doomed humanity.

A lone circus man is what stood between the end of the world for years. or a riot. or a ape fighting a human. this man was the most important man in the entire world. in humanity's history. his death was the cataclyst that sent Caeser over the edge.

Breck didn't realize it until the apes raised the butt of their rifles and accepted it.

Or perhaps, it was when Caeser was making his Shakespeare speech.

Dark, moody, Shakespearen, philosophical, ethical, two men in two different positions of power discussing change and time and the pace of change and time and climbing up into position. Willing to try to make a change, stop a horrible outcome, the downfall of a entire civilization---. It's the stuff of epics!

it's the kind of story that is incredible watching the hero become the villain to humanity who views him as the villain but really is still the protagonist and the hero because we're rooting for him. a arc well deserved. breaking. snapping. under a lifetime of opression and loss. the twig that finally snapped.

What little trace there was left of the little bit of humanity, kindness, compassion, patience, it was gone. instead, Caeser became the very thing he hated. an oppressor. just as human as the humans themselves that set up a series of dominos leading to the very first movie in a stable time loop, albeit it heavily modified, interrupted, changed. yet the same.

[dammarchy211]

Despite having finished Psychonauts I don't think the fixation is gonna wear off (time to watch a Rhombus of Ruin playthrough!) so I will be plaguing your askbox/page (/lh+silly)

For an ask about your Psychonauts OCs, what do you think they'd be like in-game, if you could interact with them? Or how do you think they'd be towards Raz? I've seen some of your characters and they make me go silly /pos, so I'm curious about them :3

Hi hi basically all of my ocs are written as if they were in game characters fhfjvk

This includes mental worlds and game mechanics and such!

The curb this post being extremely long and just a run down of Everything about my ocs. I’ll group them up. (Even tho a lot of this will probably still be restating lol)

So the C.R.I.M.E. agents function basically entirely as antagonists for the most part. Given the uh. Villainous nature of the organization lol. They all kind of act Banterly towards the psychonauts and especially Raz. But do not take this as them being bad at their jobs!! The only cringefail villain really is Ant, I can’t play up the “villain but they actually suck XD” trope that much it would get annoying to write lmaoo. I will single out Dexter specifically to note that he was written as a perfect foil/arch nemesis whatever to Raz. The two are also “accidentally friends” because they would 1000% get along well if it weren’t for their circumstance. That being said Dexter is probably just as good, and just as bad, of an agent as Raz. They were written to be comparable. Another note I’ll make is towards Neo Cortez. He’s the founder of CRIME, and probably stands out as a possible “main antagonist”. Hes extremely self serving and ends up garnering the contemp of his own agents along with the psychonauts eventually.

Now Cheri! She was originally made, as my first oc, to be a new mentor for Raz after what happens in the events of pn2 (though I reckon I’ll probably have to change that if a pn3 comes out and they expand on that). She’s an ex-villain, similar to Oleander, but a lot farther back and was “evil” for a bit longer too. She kind of ‘pretends’ to still be evil because she thinks it’s funny, but it’s mostly just cartoonishly dastardly things. Imagine Queen from Deltarune with Kris or Noelle but instead of being Genuine it’s just a bit. She has a loott of baggage she’s just kind of. Holding onto. She got a handle on her mental spiral back when the psychonauts had stopped her previously, but that doesn’t really mean anything was fixed. Anything in game with her mainly circles around helping her with that, but also her helping Raz! She is a mentor after all. She teaches Raz electrokinesis (more specifically how to deflect it) and an alternate form of mental projection

Mirage and KC are more background characters. I still need to post about Mirage. Most of their connections to the canon come from not Raz, so it’s hard to fit them in a game-like narrative. Theoretically you could probably chat with them regardless tho. KC is Dogen’s friend, so after awhile she kinda becomes friends with Raz too :-]

I also have the Donatella headcanon backstory characters, but I don’t think I say anything more about them other than “they’re just the family members I thought up for Donatella because I wanted to write a backstory for her” without sounding like a broken record. They would probably eventually have a reunion with the Aquatos tho! Raz’s favorite Aunt would be Fran (and her wife) :-]