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mauromance · 2 months ago

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A case for Kastle | A way forward (my fan theory)

In the comics, Karen Page’s brutal death at the hands of Bullseye shattered Matt Murdock. But the MCU has a rare opportunity to subvert that fate: what if Karen doesn’t die… but fakes her death?

Instead of a corpse, she leaves behind a carefully orchestrated lie. A final, irreversible act to protect herself and the people she loves. A way to take control of a life that has been defined, over and over again, by other people’s violence.

Karen has been teetering on the edge of darkness since Daredevil Season 1, when she shot James Wesley. As more of her past is revealed—marked by guilt, grief, and survival—we see a woman constantly forced into life-or-death decisions. That history, and her relentless pursuit of truth and justice also makes her a permanent target for Wilson Fisk. To remain Karen Page is to remain vulnerable. And after Born Again opened with the devastating loss of Foggy Nelson, to kill off Karen too would feel like another lazy gut-punch. Just more pain to fuel Matt’s torment.

But a faked death? That’s not trauma for shock value. That’s character evolution. A conscious choice that preserves Karen’s autonomy, lets her reclaim the narrative and grants her a rare gift in genre storytelling: the chance to walk away from trauma on her own terms.

Karen’s reinvention

After losing Foggy and distancing herself from Matt, Karen relocates to San Francisco, trying to rebuild a life out of the wreckage. But we know, she can’t stay away.

We’ve watched her grow: from a small-town girl with a tragic past, to a murder suspect, to Nelson & Murdock’s moral anchor, to a fearless investigative journalist at the Bulletin. Karen has reinvented herself before. But this would be her boldest reinvention yet. A total reclamation. Killing “Karen Page” allows the woman underneath to finally live.

MCU continuity

The MCU has already built the scaffolding for a story like this. Faked deaths. S.H.I.E.L.D. coverups. Clean slates. If Frank Castle can be given a second life, why not Karen? This opens the door for powerful storytelling while honouring the existing gritty, grounded, and emotionally complex tone of Daredevil and The Punisher.

It also offers other character threads to be woven: Dinah Madani, David Leiberman, and more. A storyline where Karen fakes her death could organically pull some of those characters back in for final, meaningful resolutions without stretching plausibility.

Matt’s path forward

Karen’s "death" would devastate Matt, but it would also liberate him. It carries the emotional weight of her comic death, but with a quieter, more tragic finality. She’s not taken from him. She chooses to go. And in many ways, that choice might be even harder to bear.

But narratively, Daredevil is designed to endure. In the comics, he has loved and lost many times, and within the current state of the MCU has several romantic avenues to explore (Elektra, Kirsten McDuffie, She-Hulk, the list goes on). His romantic arc can evolve without being forced to erase or overwrite what he had with Karen.

And let’s be honest—the MCU rarely lets its heroes keep their great loves. From Star-Lord to Doctor Strange to Peter Parker, romance is often sacrificed on the altar of serialized storytelling. If Daredevil is here to stay (which it appears he is), a respectful, mature close to Matt and Karen’s chapter, one where she gets to decide when it ends, feels like the right choice.

How this ties into the Kastle ship

Frank Castle is nearing the end of his war. His body is breaking down—Born Again hints at his dependence on painkillers. His mission is losing meaning—everyone involved in the murder of his family is already dead. His grief has calcified into something quieter, heavier, more remorseful. “Look what it got me,” he tells Matt. One thread remains unresolved: his feelings for Karen.

Bullseye’s return forces a reckoning. And this time, Frank isn’t choosing between revenge and survival. He’s choosing between vengeance… and love.

In Born Again, Frank only springs into action when Karen calls on him—an unmistakable sign of his feelings for her. After their subtextually loaded moment together, their connection is further confirmed in a quiet conversation between Matt and Karen. Later, Frank is shown listening to radio chatter, monitoring the Punisher copycats. But he’s not tracking them for sport or ego. He’s listening for mentions of her. And when he hears them mention “the blonde”, and “hunting”, he moves. Because this isn't about his legacy. He couldn’t care less about that. What he cares about is protecting Karen.

If Karen were to fake her death, it would become a natural out for Frank as well. He could finally walk away from the Punisher—not in defeat, but in purpose. He becomes her shadow. Her shield. Because let’s be honest: Karen Page, even under a new name in a new place, will still be chasing truth. Still investigating. Still lighting fires. And when things get too close, she’ll need someone who can keep her safe. Frank can give her that. And she’ll give him what he needs, too. Connection. Stability. Family.

It’s the most fitting conclusion to the slowest burn in MCU history. Not explosive. Not dramatic. Just a quiet, earned escape.

Why Kastle works

The Kastle dynamic fits perfectly because it’s not about saving each other. It’s about understanding each other. Reflecting each other. Becoming something whole, together.

Frank facing mortality: Karen represents his last chance at something more than violence.

Karen choosing agency: Faking her death isn’t surrender, it’s a declaration of autonomy.

A poetic reversal: Frank lost his family to violence. Karen refuses to be lost in the same way.

And unlike Matt, whose romantic arc resets and reboots, Frank’s emotional world is singular. Monastic. If Karen is the only person who ever made him believe peace might be possible after the tragedy of his family’s murder, then her survival becomes the final thread anchoring him to life.

A fitting farewell

This twist respects the comics’ emotional beats but refuses to fridge Karen Page. Her “death” marks the end of a chapter, not a life. It allows Matt to grieve, Frank to grow, and Karen to finally, fully reclaim herself.

And most importantly, it understands a hard truth: in the MCU, happy endings are rarely loud. Sometimes, they’re quiet. Fragile. Earned. For Karen and Frank, that ending doesn’t lie in a grave. It’s somewhere else. Somewhere far, far away from Hell’s Kitchen.

A sunrise. A new name. A chance to be born again.

Want to dive deeper?

Coffee in the MCU

Why Karen and Frank are end game

Kastle scene breakdowns: The subtext you missed [WIP]

Published: April 23, 2025

Last edited: April 23, 2025

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theopolis · 7 months ago

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Adaptations/alternate comicverses/certain 616 comics that try to empower Harry Osborn and showcase how he's broken free from Norman's influence by making him appear more in control are, imo, kind of missing the point of his original empowering act of self-reclamation in Spectacular #200. Because the entire arc that had led up to it was about him clawing for total control of who he is, what he can do and how he is perceived. That climactic moment where he rescues Peter from the bomb is not born out of a newfound confidence and bravado - to the contrary. It's prefaced by the same panicky indecision that had continously sabotaged Harry's quest to truly become the Green Goblin; someone worthy, someone deserving of his father's approval, someone who would never be hurt again

Depictions of Harry where he doesn't possess, or rises above, his frailty, while often well intentioned and certainly helpful to some people who get different takeaways from them, do nothing for me. Rather, they feel inspired by that same notion of having to "grow a thick skin" and embody an ideal of someone who's assertive and has it together, even if that ideal is much less extreme and overtly toxic than the Goblin. Is it really about self love, or is it about becoming more "admirable", more "respectable", less of a "burden", less "weak"? Someone who is no longer affected by past abuse in ways they perceive as shameful?

I believe Harry's kindness and intense love for Peter can not be neatly separated from the less noble traits rooted in his sensitive nature. He loves and gives easily, just as he gets scared and nervous and self conscious easily. All of it was punished and scrutinized first by his father and then by himself. Harry's ultimate choice to save Peter's life in #200 is him finally giving up on that struggle for invulnerability and surrendering to the command his soft heart has over him. It's the opposite of control and he says it himself when Peter asks why he came back for him: "What else could I do?"

I think this is an immensely important message. Certainly one I needed to hear when I read that comic. Must we try to attain that mythical self who repels harm? Isn't it much kinder towards ourselves to accept that keeping an open heart means that we have wounds, some of which may never fully heal and will need tending to by more hands than our own?

#theopolispost #harry osborn #harry

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artbyblastweave · 2 years ago

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I've never made any connections between Worm and the Captain America mythos before. Spill some ink?

Okay, so from a purely aesthetic perspective, the gimme is Miss Militia. She's the most obvious "Captain Patriotic" in the roster, she has the power of GUN, she's the only one who actively buys into the mythology of America specifically. She's a Kurdish woman occupying an aesthetic niche generally held by a rugged squinty white guy. She's an output of the melting pot narrative. She's sort of a rendering of what a grounded superhero who somehow became very aesthetically into America might look like. Not in the craven marketing-driven way of Homelander or Comedian, not in the jingoistic maniac way of USAgent or Peacemaker. She buys it in the broadly left-liberal (USamerican connotation of that term) safe, friendly, reclamative way. Why, what a great rehabilitation of the archetype!

She's also deeply, deeply afraid of rocking the boat. She's got a deepseated childhood trauma related to the bad things that happen when she puts herself in a leadership role. She goes along to get along. When she's proactive, it's usually to point a gun at Tattletale to stop her from upsetting the status quo. She sits through a lot of situations where Steve Rogers, as commonly modeled, would probably plant himself like a tree by the river of truth and go, "Hey, this is fucked up." She more or less capitulates to Undersider domination of the city, in a way that predisposes us to think of her as a voice of reason after all these total nuts that Skitter's been up against- but would Taylor "to relinquish control is a form of ego death" Hebert really be willing to leave someone in charge of the local Protectorate branch who she thought couldn't be corralled? She looks like a beacon, but doesn't- indeed, probably can't- ever truly behave like one. I mean, you can debate the on-the-spot morality of any given one of her judgement calls, that's actually one of the less exhausting Worm Morality Debates to have- but in aggregate, a person in American flag garb who actually meaningfully criticizes the paramilitary organization they're part of is not gonna survive long in that role!

So again, she's the gimme from an aesthetic standpoint. But what I don't really see a lot of discussion of is how Cauldron plays into the riff.

Captain America is institutional, but in a comically morally uncomplicated way. The serum was originally mana from heaven, granted to a living saint, conveniently divorced from any nitty-gritty sausage-making process and even-more conveniently divorced from the horrible consequences of giving the, uh, the U.S government a replicable super soldier process. And in fairness to Captain America, this is 100 percent something the overall mythos eventually patched to my satisfaction; the sausage-making process eventually revealed as prototypical government fuckery driven by human experimentation on black servicemen, the overall Marvel Setting littered with failed attempts by the U.S. Government to recreate that golden goose so they can have their fun new jackboots. (In Ultimate Marvel, this is how almost all contemporary superhumans were created, and this is a state of affairs with a body count in the millions or billions.)

Cauldron draws you in with the same noble rhetoric about greater goods, the same one-off proprietary irreplicable formula- but you don't get the luxury afterwards of representing nothing but the dream. You aren't partnering up with a plucky crank scientist with a heart of gold. You're selling your soul to an organization with an agenda. The narrative makes no bones about the fact that everything you do is fundamentally tainted by the fact you opted into an end product created through torture, kidnapping and human experimentation. You don't get to pull a Kamen Rider by going rogue or opting out or making good use of the fruit of the poisoned tree; you are owned, and everything you do has this Damocles sword hanging over your head- when are the people who bankrolled this going to come to collect?

So that's the question of "who would willingly dress like that" covered, and the question of who creates a serum like that. What about the question of who takes a serum like that? I'd argue that Eidolon is the examination of that. Pre-Cauldron David reads to me like pre-serum Steve Rogers viewed through a significantly bleaker lens. They're both sickly kids desperate to serve, rocketed to the pinnacle of human capability by an experimental procedure. But for Steve Rogers, the crisis was that he had a specific vision of the world and was frustrated by his inability to carry it out. Before the serum he picked fights over what was right and wrong and got his ass handed to him; afterwards he picked those same fights and just started winning instead. The serum neatly solved a problem he had, and to the extent that his mindset is influenced by his pre-serum experiences, it's generally constructive; a desire to protect the weak, help the helpless, an appreciation for people who stand up for what's right even when they're clearly gonna get pancaked for their trouble. So ultimately there's no dark side, downside, or underlying neurosis ascribed to his initial impulse to take that serum.

But with David, it's not a tragic case of the spirit being willing but the flesh being weak. He isn't a preternaturally-noble soul, out to represent the best elements of the American ideal- he kind of represents the inverse, a guy who's been failed at every level while utterly convinced that he's the problem. He's actively suicidal because he's a wheelchair-bound epileptic in an economically-depressed socially-backwards rural town in the 1980s, and he's spent his 18 years of life internalizing the idea that he's worse than useless unless he can somehow find a way provide value to something larger than himself. Doctor Mother finds him in the aftermath of a suicide attempt spurred by his rejection from the army- and he didn't even want to join the army specifically, necessarily, he just needed his situation to be literally anything else, and he took what he thought he could get. And then he finds himself in a position to become a superhero, so he does that, molds himself into that, subordinates himself to that, builds his entire sense of self and values around the value he can provide in that role. No grand design or sacred principles carried over through the metamorphosis. Just relief at finally, finally having something that looks like an answer to the question of what he's supposed to do.

And you know, you know that if Steve Rogers was facing down the barrel of being depowered, he'd smile and nod, he'd Cincinnatus that shit. It's happened before. But for David, the emotional trauma and self-worth issues that caused him to roll the dice on a Steve-Rogers treatment never really went away. When would it? He's been Providing Value as a ten-ton Hammer Against Evil for thirty years. No family, no social life. Certainly, no incentive on his handler's part to lance his Atlas complex. So he barrels towards atrocity in the name of remaining useful. Admittedly, this is where the comparison breaks down in a significant way; Captain America is much more of a symbol than he is an irreplicable powerhouse, so it's not catastrophic if he's taken off the board. Eidolon is so unbelievably powerful that his myopia and self-centeredness actually do align with a real problem everyone else is gonna have if he loses his powers. But in terms of the starting points- I think that Steve Rogers embodies the myth about why you'd want to join the army that badly. Eidolon is, I think, much more closely modelling why you'd actually want to join the army that badly.

#apologies for the delay in responding #worm #wildbow #parahumans #worm meta #eidolon #thoughts #meta #miss militia #effortpost

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queenrizzardnthelizardscissored · 7 months ago

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VEILGUARD SPOILERS DO NOT READ IF YOU DONT WANT TO BE SPOILED

holy shit this ending is COMICALLY BAD. WHAT THE FUCK DID THEY DO. this is worse than 'it was all a dream'.

turns out there is a race from across the sea called the 'executors' who are behind LITERALLY EVERYTHING from loghains betrayal to meredith going crazy to bartrand digging up the red lyrium to anders blowing up the chantry to the events of inquisition because they are able to influence people without being there or seeing it. everything about the previous 3 games has been planned by them. NONE of the characters had any agency at all.

every. single. plot decision.

was just mind control the WHOLE FUCKING TIME.

oh also mythal is andraste and turns out the whole religion was bullshit from the get-go. not like. yknow. the mystery of that and the role that religion played in society was more important than the gods stuff. like holy shit. the good part of dragon age worldbuilding was cultural beliefs and the way they influence society, and ultimately magic is just an element of the society that is hotly debated, gods are things that some people believe in, others do not, with statues and churches and multiple religions. and now its just like "every religion was horseshit, and the gods did exist but they were evil, and the actual cultural context of this religion didn't matter." like the valasslin as slave-markings stuff was really interesting to me because of the cultural connotations, how they changed from slave-markings to symbols of a people over time through reclamation and simple loss of rembrance, how they evolved, and then how Solas can only see their initial meaning without understnading that their cultural meanings and connotations have shifted. but no. no. we can't have subtlety in our storytelling. that's too hard.

how the fuck did they screw this up.

some ppl are saying this was the plan all along? can you imagine them writing loghain in DAO, anders and merrill in DA2 while just knowing 'oh yeah btw they actually didnt want to do any of this they were all mind controlled the whole time'? despite giving them actual motivations?

holy shit they fucked this up big time.

#dragon age #dragon age spoilers #veilguard #veilguard spoilers #datv #datv spoilers #the executors #dragon age lore #worldbuilding #bad writing #solas dragon age #solas #dragon age origins #dragon age 2

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cultkinkcoven · 9 days ago

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Super surprised this dude is still going but this sentiment explains everything perfectly to me.

“Word salad so dense and wordy” - I believe they are referring to a thing called “a paragraph”

This entire situation makes sense with the knowledge that this person cannot read or comprehend complex sentences. They may not have even read a single thing I actually said, which again makes sense considering they kept restating things I’d already addressed extensively. Of course they can’t understand, they can’t read…

Lucifer having empathy for oppressors is the only way he can effectively stand up to, disarm, and manage them. They misunderstand empathy for sympathy, justification and endorsement. But I already said that, and you all know I already said that.

The only person who doesn’t know that I said that is the person with incredibly poor reading comprehension skills.

Oh well.

I just find this situation comical, because I am unable to read any of the comments they made after this conversation was over, because they blocked me. Others (many others, thank you guys) have been messaging me and saying “Hey @ null is saying some really terrible stuff about you and I hope you’re doing okay. Thats not fair or warranted.”

And I’ve just been like oh. lol. I thought the conversation was over. They’re still going. huh. Unfortunate.

Unfortunate because had they not blocked me, and instead had the courage to speak to me directly, approach me and the conversation honestly, giving me the chance to respond, then I think we may have actually been able to find common ground. I know this because friends of @ null did in fact message me, and after a bit of calm conversation, they too were able to find common ground even if we didn’t completely agree, which we didn’t. The problem here is not with our disagreement.

Because @ null is too cowardice to actually speak to me, they instead would rather speak about me with the assurance that I can’t defend myself.

Which is fine, not gonna let it ruin my day. But- and I think this is the only insult I’ve ever used this entire time- I do think it is quite pathetic. I do think it reflects a kind of mental laziness and cowardice that I and Lucifer find very pathetic. I am more than pleased that people disagree with me, it allows me the opportunity to challenge my beliefs and change my mind. I’m happy people disagree, and I’m happy some people were able to simply ask challenging questions. “No Shi, I do not agree with you, here’s why. But if you explain yourself a bit more, maybe I can understand your line of thinking better, even if in the end we still disagree.”

Also, and maybe I’m just deflecting the “you’re a faker “ accusation, but of all the Gods to intimately understand nuance, complexity, mental health, fetish psychology, madness, it would be Lord Dionysus unequivocally.

My philosophy is highly Dionysian, not just Luciferian. I am incredibly inspired by him me what he represents when I talk about these things, and I know for an absolute fact that he would never approach these things with black and white thinking. He’s DIONYSUS for Pete sake. His whole deal is being complex and liminal, understanding freaks. Non binary thinking. Understanding mental health. Harm reduction, reclamation.

To hear a Dionysus devotee talk so shallowly about a subject that is so so so so incredibly important to his sphere.

I don’t know. It perplexes me. It makes me think this person has a very surface level understanding of the gods in general. Because if Lord Dionysus could read this entire conversation, I think he would be severely disappointed.

#pagan #paganism #witchcraft #lucifer devotee #lucifer deity #theistic luciferianism #lord lucifer #dionysus deity #dionysus

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irregularcircle · 2 months ago

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Reclamation, Page 56

"No, I didn't ask the Lunar I keep around where she came from or who she is. Why? Does that matter?"

First Page

#exalted #exalted art #exalted comic #reclamation #reclamation comic #comic

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relaxxattack · 8 months ago

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I humbly request your dave nonbinary thoughts, we may not be ready but I want to know, I want to be enlightened

okay so here’s the thing.

dave strider is a closeted and repressed queer boy in 2009.

in the culture at the time (especially on the internet where he basically grew up) "gay" is used as a catch-all for basically all things evil, stupid, and wrong. as kids grow up they learn that— because patriarchal privilege is something you can lose the second you’re not performing your masculinity to an insane degree— being gay makes you not a real man. being gay means you’re an effeminate little freak, a subversion, a pervert. something to be scorned and taught a lesson. which is terrifying to these kids.

on top of all this, dave is being abused daily in the name of becoming a real man a hero. his ultimate example of heroism is a hypermasculine freak who physically, mentally, and sexually abuses him. of course dave doesn’t want to do introspection into the idea of liking men. just being a man is a burdenous ideal, and the sexuality of men is something that has been consistently used to harm him.

that’s where we come to the meteor trip. dave seems to be of the opinion that because earth is long gone, a lot of those restrictive social conventions should be gone as well— especially things like toxic masculinity, and gayness as a complete “other” that you have to “turn” to; he claims (correctly) that a lot of these restrictive social boxes are imaginary lines built by prejudice, and less absolute then people assume.

so, dave does not subscribe to the idea of hard labels.

it’s important for him to reclaim the idea of gayness, of course. dave has been agonizing over that for the entirety of the comic. his own sexuality is something that terrifies him, to the point where he cannot even manage to date women he actually likes. even if he really is truthfully interested in women, he cannot really handle that until he’s finally come to terms with himself as “gay”. (which is why i don’t think dave would use the term bisexual. even if he does know what that means, that’s not the word he’s been terrified of embracing for the past 16 years. dave strider is gay. his entire arc revolves around accepting this.)

but i think if dave was contemplating gender as much as he was contemplating sexuality on that trip, he would come to a similar conclusion about labels. and besides, masculinity isn’t exactly something that he’s had a positive relationship with.

this is why i think he’d be some form of nonbinary or agender. dave calls himself gay because of his hard-earned reclamation of that word, not specifically because he is never interested in women. i think if he were to call himself a guy, it would be along those same lines.

(i could also go on a tangent about dave’s existence as a hussie self insert and his arc and dialogue with these concepts as a reflection of someone who eventually came out as agender, but this post is long enough as it is)

basically, gay nonbinary dave strider. he’s real.

#tw csa #tw child abuse #dave strider #homestuck #hsmeta #op

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randomfoggytiger · 13 days ago

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It's wrong to the story and to the audience to not have given Mulder and Scully an opportunity to be parents. I think we see a "vision" in the revival, but I couldn't watch through an entire revival episode, so I don't remember it well. Would Mulder have been a silly dad like what he was with his Mr. Potato face with Emily? Would he have scaled back on his Xfiles obsession to go home and have dinner with his family? Would Scully have been firm or super sweet? Would she be doing autopsies with a baby sling on her back or reading medical journals as bedtime stories? We needed at least 1 family portrait. They definitely would have dressed up the baby as an alien for Halloween.

There was an opportunity to keep their dedication to finding the truth but through a different lens. Mulder could have become a consultant, a professor, an FBI instructor with his side quests and Scully still at his side. There could have been more covert operations with perhaps top secret funding and alliances.

AND, what was the point of killing off TLG? Were they incinerated? Why? I didn't get that part.

This took me a few days (sorry!); but yes, I agree with everything you said.

It was definitely wrong to the story canon told post-Je Souhaite. (Before then, Mulder and Scully had made their peace with life; and began taking it as it came.)

Canon hinted that Requiem Mulder was beginning to reconsider Scully's (and his) sacrifices; but then only lightly addressed those ideas with his near-death escapades (i.e. Three Words and Vienen) and resignation (i.e. Vienen and Alone.)

And then Season 9 hit.

As for "Jump the Shark", I haven't found the reason why; but my speculation is that CC was bummed yet another of his shows was canceled by FOX; and considered the episode's climax as an act of... rebellion? Or reclamation: "TLG will go out on my terms", etc.

Interview: Barring the episode titled “Jump the Shark,” as a writer, do you think The X-Files ever “jumped the shark?”

CC: I don’t think X-Files jumped the shark and that tongue-in-cheek title was our way of lowering the boom on anybody who thought that it did. I think it was good till the end and I think that while it changed with the exit of David Duchovny, I believe that during that period there was excellent work done, excellent storytelling, and I’ll stand by all nine years of the show.

(Interview here.)

However: he took their deaths back in the comics, co-signing the writer's decision to reveal that Frohike, Langly, and Byers were hiding out under their monument at Arlington. ...But then took it back, again, in the Revival. (Because Chris Carter will never, ever settle on one definitive idea. That is his gift and his curse.)

Tangent aside: what would Mulder and Scully be like as parents? Everyone has their own headcanon; but I think both would equally lay down the law, relax the rules, and cuddle their frightened child in bed if the latter sought refuge from a nightmare.

#asks #anon #sorry this took... awhile #lot of other projects I was widdling down on #(fingers crossed I finish one completely this week)#anyway: no justice; no peace #but that's what the writers like to do: create darkness so the light shines brighter #I think that's an actual quote one of them said somewhere #and I don't disagree with that concept-- just... write it a bit better huh?#CC #interview #Jump the Shark #S9

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shadows-over-the-wastes · 4 months ago

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Shadows Over the Wastes: Chapter One

Stables. Bunkers, more or less, created to shelter ponies from the doomsday that was The Day the Bombs Fell. Or, aptly, The Final Day. Created with self-sustaining magical technology that would run until Reclamation Day. And even further beyond that. This is the environment I had known my entire life. Yellowcake Cream, an altogether uninspiring, and unassuming unicorn.

That was me. With a yellow coat, a blue-green mane that’s always too messy and sloppily tied back, and bright green eyes that have a blue discoloration to the sclera. My cutie mark is a Balefire green glass tuning fork, surrounded by a blue glow. If anything about me was unique or impressive, it was that. But it didn’t do much to compensate for my rather lacking stature, being one of, if not the, shortest mares in the entire Stable. It also didn’t explain my sad physique. I’m rather chubby, to put it lightly. Fat, to put it accurately. And worst of all, I never look like I get enough sleep, and I have a horrendous cough I can never get rid of. I’m not asthmatic, I’m just pathetic.

My special talent is… a little unclear. But I’m really good at fixing up the reactor in the Stable, and I’m unaffected by radiation, so my place is clear. I’m a reactor engineer and technician. A rather high-clearance, and low-effort job, which doesn’t help with my weight problem. Most of the time, I spend my days watching old TV shows, re-reading the Stable library’s selection, or simply hanging out in the bakery.

My sweet tooth was my friend Cherry Garcia’s fault. She’s the bakery mare, and runs the shop by herself, which she took over when her mother retired. Her coloration was that of red velvet cake. A maroon coat with a creamy white mane, striped with chocolate brown, and beautiful, crystal pink eyes. She was the Stable’s eye candy, always was for her peers, even when we were foals. All the colts thought she was the prettiest thing in the whole wide world. They weren’t wrong, but she always expressed that stallions weren’t really for her. She and I met because I was always the smartest foal in the class, and the quietest. She’s not book smart, but socially smart, so she came to me for help. We’ve more or less been inseparable ever since.

The piercings in my ears were my friend Aero Ace’s fault. He’s a punky gray stallion with a faux-colorful black mane, violet eyes, and plenty of tats and piercings to match. He’s an artist, with a needle and a brush. He’s also a troublemaker. Always has been, always will be. He’s not as big as some other stallions, built very lithe, and quick on his wings. We met for similar reasons, but moreso because he wanted to know the most effective way to prank somepony using a Mr. Handy robot. I told him all the ins and outs and how to change personality scripts. Even helped him do it. He stuck around me since then.

Today was another day of nothing, spent in my room, with a comic book sprawled on my bed. I was sat comfortably, twirling a pen in my magical grip as a notebook laid next to the comic. I wasn’t reading it, so much as I was using it as reference to draw. Another hobby I’d picked up to kill some time. I started when I was 16, and had gotten pretty good over the years. Sighing, I closed the comic book, going back to sketching. I was drawing a cowpony gunslinger, with a big chunky revolver. I always thought cowpoke were cool, that and the concept of aliens.

I heard a knock on my Stable room door. “Go away.” I called over, not peeling my eyes away.

“It’s Cherry!” Garcia called through the speaker system.

“Oh! C’mon in!” My ears pricked up, dropping my pen and looking over at the door.

The metal bulkhead door opened up, and the earth pony walked right through. She had a big, cheeky smile, a tray balanced on her back. She wore the same Stable suit we all did, dark blue and gold trim, branded with a bold 27. “Another hard day of work, huh?” She joked.

“Yeah yeah, I know. You can ask me for help if you need it, y’know.” I replied, leaning my head on a hoof.

“Oh no… don’t want you pulling a muscle.” Garcia smirks, joining me on the bed by my side, and gently setting the tray in front of us. It had three or four pastries on it, assorted. “Brought you the daily extras. Since you didn’t visit…”

I snickered, picking up an eclair with my magic. “Jeeze… this is all extras, huh?”

“Just figured I’d bring you some, since you never bothered to visit.” She chuckles, giving my side a poke.

Feeling my face flare up, I bit a sizable chunk from the pastry. “Sho what bringsh you by?”

“Well, I wanted to see your workspace! You always hang by the bakery, I’ve never gotten to see the reactor room.” She answers rather bluntly, shrugging.

I cough, almost choking on my mouthful. “You… you do?”

“Mmhmm! I wanna see what you do!” She grins, flashing her perfect white teeth.

I hesitated, eating the other half of my eclair, thinking it over. “Well… uh, I’m not really supposed to have anypony else in there. It’s a… bit of a dangerous environment.”

“Pleeeease…?” She pushes her nose up against my cheek, giving me the wettest puppy eyes she can manage. “I promise I’ll behave… I’ll even bake your favorite cake for the morning if you take me.”

My ears flopped back, “…Banana? You really don’t have to, y’know. You already brought all this.”

“Mmmhmmm…” Cherry nods, leaning on me a little more. “For my favorite nerd…”

Unfortunately, try as I might, I felt my face burn with her honeyed words. I hated how good she was at sweet talking me, it always worked. “Uhhh… y-um. Okay… I can take you in for the morning maintenance check.”

“Yes! Thank you, thank you!” Cherry gives me a tight hug, practically suffocating me with her forelegs. I didn’t really understand the excitement, but it was flattering in a sense.

I chuckled, giving her back a pat with a hoof. “I… don’t really understand why you’re so enthusiastic, but I won’t complain.”

“So what time do I need to be here?” Cherry backs up a little bit, her tail giving an excited shake.

Rubbing under my chin, I thought for a moment. “Ideally you wanna get here before security starts their morning patrol. I’d say anywhere between 06 hundred and half past. Preferably on the dot, though.” I pointed at her, “But. You need to do as I say. Any safety precaution not taken for you can mean dire radiation poisoning.”

“Promise… anything you say, I’ll do it.” She pats her chest, nodding.

Sighing, I give a nod, “Alright… be here fresh and early. And clean. Please. The decontamination protocols call for a shower at least the day before entering the reactor room.”

Nodding again, she smiles. “Showered and early, got it.”

Tapping my hooves together, I glance around the room. “So… um. Did you… wanna stick around for any other reason?”

“Of course, silly. Keep drawing, I’ll watch…” She leans on me, getting comfortable.

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The morning came unceremoniously, after a productive day of drawing and eating the pastries that Cherry brought me. Getting on my Stable suit, I clicked my Pip-Buck onto my right foreleg, using a few dials and switches to get my authorization ready. As I walked out of my Stable room, I was greeted with the sight of the Overmare, Silver Lining. In the same hallway as me, speaking to another Stable member. She shot me a look, one that was hard on the nerves. She always tested me, ever since I took my Mother’s position as the reactor tech. Makes sense, considering this job is what took my Mom from me. And as far as my Dad goes, no news. Nopony really knows who he is. My Mom had an alcohol problem, and slept around. It could be any stallion, and she simply forgot. It made me a bastard foal. Something that was tough to live with. Something that got me taunted through my school years.

Breaking me out of the stare was Cherry, tapping me on the shoulder. “Hey! You good?”

“Uh… yeah. Fine.” I shrugged it off, starting to head for the reactor room. Garcia trailed closely at my side, trying to gauge what was wrong. I could tell, by the way her eyes were burning a hole through my skull.

“By the way, your cake should be settled by the time you come back with me to the bakery!” Cherry smiled, trying to turn my mind onto something else.

Looking over, I scoffed, “Yeah? You actually made one? You didn’t have to, you know. You have other customers.”

“You’re not a customer, Cake! You’re my friend. My best friend, at that.” She bumps me, nearly sending me off balance.

Stumbling a little, I snickered, shaking my head. “Alright, if you insist.” Before we knew it, we got to the reactor room. Glancing around, I checked to make sure nopony was near. Then, once confirmation was ensured, I opened the door. “Go go go…” I waved Cherry inside, before stepping in myself. Locking the door behind us, I sighed. “Alright. Now here’s the tough part.”

“I thought that was the tough part?” Cherry cocked her head.

Moving to a rack with hazmat suits, I shook my head. “Nope. You need to put one of these on.” I tossed her one, sitting so I could watch her.

Starting to slowly pull it on, she grunts. “Don’t you need one too?”

“Nope. My body doesn’t react to the excited magi-tomic energy in the air.” I wave a hoof. “Dunno why, but it doesn’t.”

“Huh…” She fits the respirator mask over her head, and I seal the suit, starting the circulation of air. Once ready, she stomps the metal shoes of the suit against the floor. “Good to go!” Her voice is garbled through the respirator, but clear enough.

Heading to the decontamination room, it seals behind us. Misting us with a germ-scrub solution, we’re then dried off. Then, without any further delay, we walk right through, into the reactor room. The reactor itself is a technological wonder. A Balefire reactor, one of the only subjects of its kind. Most other Stable reactors rely on magi-tomic fusion. Thus, they need their core replaced eventually. However, a Balefire reactor is a perpetual magic machine. A self-sustaining dark magic reaction, exothermic, and highly radioactive. It looked like a giant metal sphere, suspended by a series of green-glowing wires, with a thrumming, bright emerald mass swirling within.

“Welcome to where the magic happens.” I motioned to the generator. “My maintenance typically consists of dark energy ventilation, sorting, and purification.” Moving to a few tubes lining the walls, three on each side, I pulled large red levers on their sides. “Using these, more or less, vacuum-based traps, I suck the excess dark energy from the reaction, and trap them in specialized battery housing.” I demonstrate, tapping on a tube swirling with green-blue energy. Then, turning a wheel on the tube, I initiate the exchange. The energy excites, then decelerates, and solidifies into bright gold strands. Pure solar fusion energy. A primitive mocking of Celestia’s godly power, in the quick of my hoof. “And… voila. Pure, unfiltered celestial energy. Ready to be cycled into an empty core. This is a gross oversimplification of the process, but… I don’t think you could really get it without years of education. Like me.”

“That’s insane! I never knew this is what you did!” Cherry sounded astonished, staring intently at the raw fusion energy.

I nodded, patting the tube. “That’s pretty much it. Do that for every tube, and it’s exchanged. Easy stuff. Those cores are cleaner and last longer.”

She and I spent the next hour or two talking and ventilating the reactor. She quizzed me on just about everything I knew, regarding magi-tomic energy at least. I’d never had anypony else be as interested in it as I was, it was refreshing. However, just as we were getting ready to leave, single file through the decontamination room, I heard something. Before I entered the room with her, my ears twitched, and Cherry looked at me through the bulkhead door. “You okay?”

“I heard something. We shouldn’t have any other unauthorized life signs in the room. It’s protocol.” I kept my voice down, eyebrows furrowing. Then, I closed the bulkhead, squinting as I turned around.

Cherry banged a hoof on the door, looking through the window. “Cake?! What’s going on??” Her voice was heavily muffled, but audible.

Looking back, I yelled through the door. “Stay here, and stay safe! I’m gonna find what’s crawling around in here!” “Cake! No! C’mon! This is a job for security!” She bangs on the door. Unfortunately for her, my curiosity was getting the better of me.

The reactor room didn’t have much in the way of weapons. For defense or no. But, a screwdriver should do the trick. I’ve read a few comics where a good screwdriver to the eye was more or less a low-end lobotomy. I didn’t wanna kill anypony, so a lobotomy would have to do. However, I found the origin of the sound. One of the metal panels on the wall of the room had been moved, revealing a long, dark corridor.

I hesitated, but I made my way within. Using my horn to light my way, a cold breeze blew over my body as the panel suddenly shut. And locked.

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