#reducing him to what he was back in the 60s

[thenotoriousscuttlecliff]

Magneto had a really great character arc in the 80s which just got completely chucked in the bin because the new editor taking over the title thought that he should always be a one-note maniacal villain, and I'm disappointed to see X-Men '97 doing the same because the ex-showrunner wanted to recreate his favourite issue.

[foodtruckery]

I'm back again even though I just sent an ask I'm too eager to dump more idea on you lmfao

But its occured to me weve all been talking about stan going into heat but we havent really touched on the idea of ford going into a rut 👀 either it happens when he gets back out of the portal and it's some good hate fucking with his so angry and delirious that he cant tell if hes trying to bitch stan or just own him and then once hes got him knotted hes expecting that heat in his gut to fade but instead it's just burning hotter, his hips are twitching still and when stan squirms (just trying to adjust more than struggle because damn hes in his 60s and getting knotted on a basement floor is probably terrible for his back) ford cant help but clamp his teeth into stans throat, instinct telling him to keep stan pinned. His rut doesn't care that stan is an alpha (as far as he knows lol) and honestly ford himself barely cares at this point. Hes back in his home dimension. Hes back in his /home/ hes got stan under him as hes always wanted as he always should have had him because ford /deserves/ this. It's a sticky long mess with ford possessiveness really rearing its head through the rut

OR maybe the paranoia and the stress and the torture from bill all culminate into it because it's like bill is threatening his territory, and then stan shows up and the focus of most of his fantasies is there and /fighting him/ and he just loses it. Stan has to work him through it that first round because it's probably really fucking clear that ford is out of his mind in more ways than one. Hes so weak and exhausted and freaking the fuck out that stan just gets fed up and pins him down and rides a knot out of him (and then ofc bill would ruin things enough that stan has to scramble to get ford in his lucid moments to help explain how to keep bill out of his head and keep them both safe) stan would have SO much on his plate in that time though hed absolutely compartmentalize. Not even allow himself to really focus that hes actually fucking his brother right now (and then hopes that ford was just a little too out of it during the rut to remember that stan was just a liiiittle bit too wet for it to have just been lube)

OR if we want to go even FURTHER back (I'm holding onto your arm and dragging you along we ain't got time to dawdle in this ask I guess) maybe ford uses his rut as his excuse to get close to stan as teenagers. Playing up how uncomfortable it is and pressing up against stan. He doesnt have the guts to ask to fuck him but stan isnt pushing him away so hell take what he can get. Crawling down into stans bed, pretending he just wants to be close to him, claiming his smell helps (which I'm sure it does but maybe a little more than ford is admitting to either of them) then scootching closer and closer until hes pressed up against stan a slow grind turning into desperate dry humping in their bunk bed and telling stan how good he feels how much he needs this you're so good to me Stanley you're so /soft/

(And ofc stan is just doing this because fords in distress right now. Ford needs this. That's all. Him popping a boner is just a natural side effect and he is NOT analyzing this any further)

-🐶

breaking my answering order because you got me fucked up with this one, 🐶, omfg. this is incomplete and might never actually be cleaned up and completed but oh well!

“Jesus, are you gonna calm down or what?” Stan pants, acutely aware of the strain across his shoulders and thighs and the ache in his knees.

Pinned to the ground underneath him, Ford growls wordlessly and tries to twist a wrist free. Well, that answers that question. 

Stan huffs in annoyance and shoves Ford’s wrists along the ground to a spot above his head, hopefully to reduce any leverage he might have. He has questions and a lot of them, but they’re apparently going to have to wait until Ford is capable of using his words again.

“You know, Sixer,” he says, aiming for conversational but coming out a little too winded for that. It’s fine, Ford isn’t gonna be able to tell. “If this weren’t so damn annoying, it might be funny. Y’know, you of all people basically speechless.”

Ford snarls and bucks his hips, and Stan hisses out a curse. 

“I’m workin’ on it, all right?!” he snaps, grinding back down in retaliation, though it only makes Ford rumble under him again. 

“I swear to god, Stanford, this better not be what you asked me to come up here for,” he gripes, squeezing his hands around Ford’s wrists as he works his hips in small, tight circles, trying to relax enough for the next step. It fucking reeks of alpha pheromones in here, and courtesy of his latest drug cocktail, that just has him even more on edge. Probably for the best that one of them is keeping their head on right now.

Ford jerks his hips again, demanding, and Stan grits his teeth when they almost get his stupid fucking knot in him that time. They might be done with this part already if he’d had a chance to loosen up first, or if he could reach down and help himself out. But no!

Shit had gone from weird to weirder from the second he showed up on Ford’s doorstep. Something was clearly going on, and something was clearly wrong, but he’d barely gotten Ford to put the honest-to-god crossbow down before his brother had started spiraling in an equally aggressive but notably different direction. 

He’s trying not to think too much about it, but Stan doesn’t actually know what he’s gonna do if Ford doesn’t settle down a little once they’re locked in together.

“You know, this would be a hell of a lot easier if you would just let me—nngh!” Stan chokes and curls over Ford when a particularly sharp snap of his hips finally gets his knot inside. “F-Fucking ow.”

When Ford doesn’t immediately growl at him, Stan forces himself to sit up a little again, wincing as he settles more fully onto Ford’s scrawny ass hips. The bite of Ford’s zipper against his ass isn’t great, and the fact that he’s got one pant leg still caught around his own shoe from how fast he’d had to shuck them off is also less than comfortable, but heyyy. They did it. 

“Now are you gonna calm the fuck down for a minute?” he says, watching Ford’s expression slowly soften into bleary confusion. 

“…S-Stanley…?” he croaks, and Stan can’t help but wince. He doesn’t even have any water nearby for him. 

“Yeah, that’s me.”

Ford glances around at the mess their tussling has made of his living room (is this a living room?) before looking back at Stan. And Stan sees the moment Ford gets up to speed. More panic, like from the porch, seeps into his expression as he realizes exactly what position they’re in.

“Wh-What happened? What did he— what did he do?!”

“Whoa, hey! Shh, Ford, it’s okay,” Stan insists, leaning down to clumsily press his forehead against Ford’s, bearing more of his weight down to keep him still. “You’re okay. You, uh, went into rut when I got here and…look, you were freaking out, and I was just trying to help. But you’re all right.”

Ford makes a whining noise that sounds horribly out of place given the situation. It’s too high, too shrill, to be coming from an alpha in rut, and it twinges at something in Stan that makes the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. 

“Y-You can’t be here, Stanley,” Ford says, insistent and frantic, and squirming underneath him until Stan’s breath hitches.

“Stop! Stop moving around like that,” he snaps, his own cock twitching as he presses this thighs harder on either side of Ford’s hips to try and hold him in place. “I can’t go anywhere, Poindexter. Not for like twenty more minutes or some shit. And then you’re gonna go out of your fucking head again.”

The look Ford gives him as that sinks in is so horrified that Stan suddenly feels sick. How badly had he fucked up here? He thought— 

Well when they were younger, before he left, and Ford would crawl into his bunk and pant for some kind of help against his shoulder and grind against his hip in the dark, and he’d assumed that was still— shit. 

Shit.

He’d just been trying to help. 

“I…Stanford, f-fuck, I’m sorry,” he stammers, leaning back and letting go of Ford’s wrists. A cold feeling settles into his gut and churns there when Ford doesn’t immediately move his hands. “I— Maybe we can time it good, and I can get some distance before you go under again? Once it goes down, I mean. I—“

A hand touches his cheek and startles Stan out of his babbling. Ford’s flushed expression has drawn down into something grim and determined. And it’s obviously taking an effort but his voice is mostly steady when he speaks up again.

“Stanley. It isn’t safe for you here. You have to leave as soon as you can. Do you understand me?”

“…No,” Stan says bluntly, frowning. “The fuck are you talking about? Because of— because of this?” he asks waving between them.

He’s even more confused when Ford shakes his head. 

“No! Well. Partially, but not—“ Ford growls, low and angry and Stan can fucking feel it where they’re still tied together. “I’m not going to have time to explain it, Stanley. I shouldn’t have asked you to come. You have to leave. Immediately.”

“…Are you fucking kidding me?” Stan demands, swatting the hand off his face and leaning back as far as he’s able when Ford sits up, biting his tongue hard enough to draw blood to keep from gasping at the way it grinds Ford’s knot inside of him. 

For his part, Ford looks dizzy when he sits up, and Stan thinks he might fall back over, but he manages to keep himself upright.

“Stanley—“

“Are you seriously so freaked out about this that you’re sayin you shouldn’t have reached out in the first place?!”

Ford’s nostrils flare, and despite the heavy bags under his eyes, his pupils are dilating again, his scent spiking with renewed aggression. God dammit, they can’t afford for him to get worked up again this fast, especially not when Stan’s lost his leverage.

“No!” Ford barks, sweat beading at his temples and eyes flicking down between them. “But it isn’t safe here, and I can’t keep him from hurting you like this!”

“Him? Ford, who the fuck are you talking about?” Stan asks, grabbing him by the wrist when a hand starts reaching blindly for his thigh. “Is somebody else in your creepy house?!”

Ford’s eyes are going a little hazy again, and the suggestion of “someone else” being nearby makes him growl menacingly, which isn’t helpful in the slightest. 

Stan grabs him by the other wrist before he thinks to use it and pushes Ford down onto his back again. He goes easily, thank god. “You gotta give me something to work with here, Ford!”

“Bill,” Ford snarls, and Stan looks over his shoulder like he expects to see someone has walked in on them. Who the fuck is Bill?

“Something helpful, dammit,” he says, breath stuttering when Ford rolls his hips like he can’t help himself. He probably can’t. 

“M-My pupils,” Ford manages to get out, his voice gone gravel and unsteady in his throat, like it’s hard to make the shape of words. “They’ll change. Th-That’s Bill.”

Stan honestly has no idea what the fuck that’s supposed to mean. 

But a moment later Ford tries to roll them, and he has to turn his focus to bracing himself and keeping him down. Whatever the fuck is going on, he was right to not let himself get trapped under a rutting alpha. Especially not with Ford dealing with…whatever the fuck this is in the moments that are supposed to be lucid.

When Ford strains to try snapping at his arm or shoulder, Stan presses down and circles his hips again to grind more pointedly against Ford’s knot. The friction and the spike of Stan’s own arousal are enough to at least distract him for the moment, so Stan focuses on that as best he can while keeping an ear out for whoever this Bill character is.

[genericpuff]

Can you call Tina Belcher driving through a parking lot at an anxious snail's pace a driving "style"? So why do we try to use "style" as a defense for LO's pacing problems?

There's something about how Lore Olympus engrosses people within its weekly doses of H x P content and cliffhangers that makes people not realize just how long Lore Olympus takes to get to the point of, well, anything. Many plotlines are setup, and then go untouched for weeks, sometimes months at a time, before seeing any sort of progress, much less a resolution. In this, I'm going to actually give you time ranges on some of the more egregious payoffs and continuations of plotlines that were setup - some that are now resolved, others that have yet to see the light of day.

CONTENT WARNING: I will be discussing the SA plotline, and there will be spoilers for Episode 265. I will also be showing pictures of some rancid ass tattoos, I know that sounds random for what we're discussing, but trust me on this one, I have a point to make. Also there's a Junji Ito panel from The Enigma of Amigara Fault... yeah, that one.

LEUCE

Let's start with an easy one that's not exactly tied to the main plot. The Leuce plotline. She was first introduced in Episode 201 as a 'bargaining chip' from Zeus to Hades, in a misfired attempt to get Hades to call a truce over the embargo between the Underworld and Olympus.

At the time of this episode's release, by all accounts this seemed to be a cut and dry reference to Hades' first wife, Leuce, unfortunately reduced to a mail-order bride who Hades, of course, turns down, because he doesn't want the "I can't believe it's not butter" Persephone, he wants overpriced, tastes-the-same-but-costs-more-because-of-the-brand-name Persephone.

But then she came back, 36 episodes later - in real time, this was roughly 38 weeks for free-to-read users as the series went on a 2 week hiatus near the start of S3 - only to be used as a cliffhanger leading into a recycled Minthe plotline, in which she attempted to seduce Hades in Episode 238, only to be shot down for the second time.

If you're having a tough time wrapping your head around how long 36 weeks really is, that's nine months. If you got pregnant when Leuce was first revealed, you'd be entering the final window of pregnancy by the time she returned, assuming the baby didn't come pre-term.

Another 7 weeks later, enough time to actually get pregnant again following that first baby, we got the sudden continuation of that plot, with Persephone invading her home and filling it with barn animals, with a not-so-subtle threat to Leuce to stay away from her husband.

"But what about the text messages? Were they really from Hades?" Well, if you were someone reading this comic in real time, you wouldn't have this question answered for another SIX EPISODES - that's a month and a half in real time - and the answer would ultimately be "she made it up, she was 'manifesting', none of it's real, they should call her Deleuceional!" Six weeks for a nothingburger answer to wrap up a nothingburger sideplot, all in the pursuit to 'prove' for the 1275903729 time that Hades and Persephone are truly meant to be together.

EROS AND PSYCHE

This is a big one. The Eros x Psyche plotline was one of the most popular romance subplots, second only to Hades and Persephone, throughout the comic. And yet, despite people holding their breath to see what would become of the star-crossed lovers, a mortal and a god-

-readers in September 2021 would not find out how their recent skirmish with Apollo in Episode 171 would resolve itself until Episode 218, A YEAR AND TWO MONTHS - ROUGHLY 60 WEEKS AND A MIDSEASON HIATUS - LATER, and even then it would only show us Eros, who quickly summarizes what happened to him during the entire trial and Kronos arc that his anticipated romance storyline got sidelined for - he got married and now he has a child.

And it wouldn't be for ANOTHER six weeks that his wife and the mother of his child would actually show up, not alongside Eros, but Aphrodite and Hephaestus, in Episode 224.

What happened to her after finally having her 'true form' revealed to Eros? Well, that's not shown for another three weeks in Episode 227. During this a bunch of info about how Psyche got out of that sticky Apollo situation is dumped on us and we just have to go along with it as she becomes a goddess, not because she earned a place among the Olympians, but because Zeus needs her to spy on Apollo, which was actually shown one episode prior in 226.

So let's say you got knocked up again after that Leuce baby, when Eros and Psyche were shot out of the sky. Welp, in the time it took for Rachel to get around explaining what happened to the both of them, now you just had your second baby and for all we know, you could have gone for a third and already be well into or near the end of your first trimester, if you really wanted to get busy. You'd have a Dionysus, a Melinoe, and maybe even a Demophoon. Congratulations.

And speaking of Melinoe-

MELINOE

Turns out the interloper and the child in Tartarus were one and the same, or at least that's what I'm assuming, because otherwise that would mean there's some whole ass other baby to worry about that we haven't even been introduced to yet.

Melinoe, or "the child deity", was first established in Episode 218.

But as per LO tradition, the child would only mentioned in passing every now and then until finally being revealed as Melinoe in Episode 252, a whopping... THIRTY EIGHT FUCKING WEEKS LATER.

And that waiting is still ongoing as Melinoe is, of course, still trapped in Tartarus, with no end in sight. Since then, Hades and Persephone have gotten married, kidnapped a child, Persephone has terrorized a nymph and caused yet ANOTHER genocide, and they've resurrected a child that was suddenly revealed to be Demeter's. Thirty eight weeks and counting of dragging on a plotline that we're supposed to believe is dire while the characters do sweet fuck all.

What was the name of that other dream baby that Rachel referenced from some obscure non-legitimate source?

Riiiight, Brimos. Congrats, there's pregnancy number 4. But can we find a way to make a fifth happen?

KASSANDRA

We're first introduced to Kassandra, another implied victim of Apollo's, in Episode 226 when a photo of her is found on Apollo's pen drive which was conveniently left on the ground for Psyche to swipe.

In Episode 227, they theorize on how they could track down this mystery woman, using either Eros or Aphrodite's abilities to find her through the power of

✨love✨

How will that actually work though? Has anyone ever been in love with Kassandra, or has she ever been in love with anyone else?

Any bets on how long it would be until we'd get our answer?

Episode 251. The same episode where we're finally told about Leuce's delusions, we suddenly skip to the reveal of Kassandra being Apollo's personal oracle.

And it still doesn't end up answering our question as to how Kassandra was tracked down, by the way. Eros and Psyche sorta just conveniently find her at the same time Apollo happens to be there when he's getting her to deliver her big prophecy to him.

That's twenty four weeks, meaning you're now near the end of your second trimester with child #4. Whoever the child is remains to be seen but I'm sure Rachel will find a way to shoehorn another helpless baby into the plot for Hades and Persephone to rescue who we can use for this metaphor.

But none of these come close to the greatest unresolved plotline of them all, the one plotline that has outlasted even the main H x P plotline of Lore Olympus' story-

APOLLO

Or more specifically, the SA. Rachel has tried so hard to twist Apollo into a villain of Disney proportions, through his sudden involvement with Ouranos, while also using him as a mouthpiece for her own critics by having him literally dish out word-for-word the criticisms that have been made towards Rachel's writing of Persephone-

But the core foundation of his plotline goes all the way back to 2018, when he assaulted Persephone, a plotline that has yet to resolve itself or show any progression beyond Rachel's half-baked attempts at speedrunning Persephone's healing process, while Apollo is still at large and hasn't been brought to justice.

We've seen her in very poorly-written therapy where her assault was addressed once. We've seen her grapple with the potential consequences of the SA through a gynecologist scene that, as I've discussed before, does more harm than good in helping the discussion around women's sexual health. And of course, Rachel will pepper in vague references to the SA every now and then when she's bothered to remember that it's a plotline she wrote and still hasn't resolved:

And judging by how the story has been progressing, Rachel seems far more intent on simply using Apollo as a mouthpiece for criticism and a puppet for Ouranos rather than focusing on the bigger issues, all while Persephone has helped more people cope with the assault that happened to her rather than receiving help herself.

What's really telling is that despite half of the Olympians at this point knowing what Apollo did, not one of them even tries to convince Persephone to come forward, or say something themselves. Daphne has more than enough reason to come forward. Artemis, Hera, Eros, Hermes, and Hephaestus all know what he did, and yet none of them say a thing, even when those of them who haven't been conveniently shoehorned out of the plot are still in the same room as him-

The assault scene happened in August 2018. It's been five and a half years since it was established, and while there have been small efforts made to resolve it - from Hera and Hephaestus having the photos deleted to Persephone seeking therapy - there's less reason now than ever for it to not be addressed, especially with so much at stake. I could side with Persephone not wanting to say anything in the beginning, when he was blackmailing her with the photos and her TGOEM scholarship was on the line, but now that she's a Queen, rich, and married to Hades, living in the Underworld where he can't get to her, without any schooling or scholarship or job to worry about or the photos hanging over her head, it comes across as flat out irresponsible that not a single person thinks it's worth mentioning. Even the narrative itself seems to be trying to undo the SA entirely.

At this point, I'm not confident it will be mentioned at all, and that Apollo will be conveniently dealt with as a pawn of Ouranos rather than as a perpetrator of violence towards women.

A FINAL ANALYSIS OF LO'S PACING

There are certainly far more examples of this weekly edging happening throughout LO, but I hope the ones I provided get across the point I'm trying to make about its pacing.

Of course, none of these gaps in time are happening back-to-back-to-back. This is Lore Olympus' writing "style", if you can call it that - constantly bombard the reader with separate plot points so that they'll either not remember the ones that were left behind, or so that Rachel can buy herself time to get herself out of the corner she wrote herself into. It's the equivalent of clickbait, constantly grabbing your attention with shiny new things that will replace whatever you just saw in your brain, on a constantly repeating cycle. It's the writing process of inexperienced amateurs, like what you'd see in short stories written by fifth graders - "and then this happened, and then this happened, and then this happened", with no theme or overarching meaning tying them together; and if you were to ask them why a certain thing happens, especially if it logically doesn't make sense, the answer is just, "well, because it does." There's no rhyme or reason, they just thought it was cool.

And I say "style" because while fans of LO have definitely defended the story's pacing as just a writing style, the actual execution of what they're implying is painful to watch and not what any experienced writer would call a legitimate style. It's not uncommon at all in long-running series like this to jump from plotline to plotline, often times longform stories like these have to balance multiple side plots at once to keep things engaging and to bulk up the plot with more actual content.

But in most cases, the reader will expect the speed of a plot's resolution to be relative to its urgency. If a casual B plot with low stakes is introduced, it's not necessarily doing any harm if it just sits there for a bit before finally being resolved. After all, it's low stakes and no one is being hurt by it existing on the sidelines. It might feel a bit like pointless fluff, but there's nothing necessarily wrong with fluff and it can offer fun and relaxed reprieves from the overarching narrative, assuming you integrate them well so they're not drawing attention away from those more urgent plotlines at the worst possible times (looking at you, Stranger Things S2 Episode 7-)

But when even the high stakes plots are being hung out to dry and treated like distractions and fluff, it comes across less like a decisive writing "style" and more just directionless pantsing from an inexperienced writer who's gotten themselves in way too deep.

And that's what really separates Rachel's writing problems from "style". Style is decisive. Style is the act of referencing over a set period of time, crafting what you like and what you've learned into something new, with rounds and rounds of fine-tuning. Style is experience put into action.

And, while I don't typically like using my own work as a comparison, LORE | REKINDLED is meant to try and recapture the original magic of Lore Olympus' art style and writing foundations - and even then, you can still see the clear difference between Episodes 14 and 44, which use the same panel from the same scene, but look vastly different due to the improvement and refinement that's happened over time.

Same style, but different levels of experience and skill, which is to be expected after weeks and weeks of fine-tuning and deliberate practice.

If you're lacking in your fundamentals, whether in art or writing, you can't equate that lack of skill to "style" because you're not choosing to be inexperienced, you just are. And that's okay! But to try and pass it off as 'style' implies that you're choosing to be inexperienced - when in reality, if you tried to put out anything beyond your skill level, you simply wouldn't be able to, because you haven't gained those skills yet. Like fifth graders writing short stories with the "and then this happened" model, "it's just my style" is often used as an excuse by young artists and writers who don't understand that style is not exclusively an end result of inexperience.

I'm gonna go on a tangent here, but there's this controversial but trendy style in tattooing called 'ignorant', and it's best defined as "tattooing badly on purpose".

These tattoos are regularly praised for their simplistic ingenuity and visual aesthetic but equally criticized for being the opposite of what many artists have worked to overcome - being "bad at art". After all, who would willingly pay for a bad-looking tattoo? It's because it's the style that's in demand. I would argue that it takes a lot of confidence and mastery of the craft to be purposefully bad at it and make it look good, as contradictory as that sounds.

As much as the lines may be wobbly and the anatomy poor, ignorant style tattoos are done purposefully by experienced artists who still know how to properly tattoo. As much as they may look like they were drawn by a middle schooler, they will still heal properly, the lines will hold up, and the client will not (or at least, should not) experience any excessive scarring or unhygienic practices as one would experience from an actual inexperienced artist-

In a genuinely poorly-done tattoo, the evidence of the inexperience is literally written all over the body. The skin swells, the ink bleeds out, the lines are inconsistent in their depth, and there's clear signs of trauma to the skin that will undoubtedly result in a poorly-healed tattoo (and that's not even getting into the larger health risks such as contracting blood diseases due to a poorly kept space). It's not hard to see the difference between a bad tattoo and a tattoo that's intentionally bad.

It's the age old saying in a different medium - only once you learn the rules can you properly break them.

Rachel never learned these rules in her writing and it's evident to anyone who knows these rules and is viewing LO through a critical lens - or in my case, experiencing it on a week to week basis. It's a regularly occurring problem in the medium of webcomics as a whole - thinking that knowing how to draw is enough, and that writing comes dead last, if at all. When in reality, comics are a marriage of art and writing, you can't simply do one really well and allow the other to drag behind. That's not to say there aren't comics that succeed at having bad art and good writing, if anything a well-written comic can save bad art-

But if you have a comic with good art and bad writing, that's when a comic opens itself up to harsher criticism. As much as art may be the visual forefront of comics, if you want to keep your audience along for the long road that stretches ahead, you need to have a strong foundation in writing, or at least, enough of a plan to ensure you're not driving in the dark. The art can be as gorgeous as you want it to be, but if the plot is weak, then no one will have any reason to check back in week to week.

And such is Lore Olympus' biggest weakness. Much of what we praise LO for back in its first season was simply its foundation. It's very easy to praise a story's writing when it hasn't had to payoff what it's setup. Having ideas is easy, and early LO is rife with good ideas - but many of those ideas have since fallen flat, even the ones you wouldn't expect.

Ideas are a dime a dozen, but actually executing them in a way that can be engaging from start to finish and resolve itself in a way that's satisfying is a whole other challenge that many creators, including Rachel, find themselves unable to tackle; and nothing is a greater example of that than LO's third season, which is now fumbling its plotlines that have failed to resolve themselves properly after 5 years, while introducing new ones that serve as mere distractions, as if they were a laser pointer aimed at a cat.

I hear the argument, "LO is a better story if you binge read it" a lot, which - while I can certainly understand in today's culture of content that's churned out to be binged - I still fail to see how it actually makes LO a better story. Binge-reading LO doesn't remove the pointless plotlines. It doesn't fix its blatant timeline problems, its retcons, or its inability to stay focused on one topic for more than 5 panels. All it really fixes is the waiting, the ritualistic toiling over each and every cliffhanger that caps off the weekly episodes just for them to either be resolved in the next week or left behind with no in-between. And while having all that waiting removed certainly makes the reading experience a lot smoother, it doesn't make the story or its writing better.

The relationship between a story's writing and how the audience experiences it shouldn't be overlooked. Many stories depend on how the audience experiences it within the mind to succeed and leave an impression.

Junji Ito utilizes the dreaded page turn to scare his audience, an effect that can only be truly gained and appreciated if you read his books in traditional print.

Marvel spent years meticulously building up its Avengers franchise, culminating in a once-in-a-lifetime cinematic event through Avengers: Endgame, which is truly the epitome of "you had to be there", because if you watch Avengers: Endgame in 2024 in your living room, you're likely not going to experience the same level of hype as audiences experiencing it in the theater in 2019.

The same can be said for James' Cameron's Avatar, which entranced audiences with its innovative motion capture CGI and immersive 3D effects, an experience that could only be lived to the fullest if you saw it in 3D in IMAX theaters back in 2009. Without that experience, most people in 2024 find the movie to be pretty generic and uninteresting, a reverse Pocahontas with blue people in space, but when it first released in IMAX theaters in 2009, it was a cultural and technological phenomenon due to how advanced it was in its VFX. I can't even share with you clips of it, because obviously it would just be proving my point to try and show you how groundbreaking Avatar was in theaters through a bad shaky cam Youtube upload of its IMAX release on Youtube, but let's just say that it wasn't uncommon for people to brag about how many times they'd gone back to watch the same movie just to feel what they felt from the first showing all over again.

All that's to say that while Lore Olympus may offer a 'better' reading experience when binge-read - regardless of whether or not it actually helps the story's pacing problems - the reality is that LO is still being written exclusively with the weekly format in mind, and its been very much to its detriment, both in the short-term and in the long-term. Readers are often left in the dark on plotlines for weeks at a time, Rachel loses track of what she has and hasn't addressed, and the extended waiting times trick readers into believing that weeks have passed in the comic's story, when in reality it's only been a day or two, sometimes as little as hours depending on the sequence; meanwhile, if you binge episodes that had those problems in hindsight, you'll likely be a lot more quick to notice how many plot beats are either retconned or abandoned entirely, because you don't have the weekly waiting times artificially inflating the pacing of the story and causing you to forget what was established weeks before, because when binged, those weeks are reduced to hours and minutes.

And worst of all, with the assumption that you're reading on a weekly basis - as it wants you to do - Rachel tries to pull clever stunts by matching up LO's episodes with real life dates and holidays, which often just makes the story beats feel rushed or random in their execution - because to the vast majority of readers who haven't caught on to this or are reading the episodes through the physical books, they are rushed and random, and they can't exactly explain why.

Binging these episodes doesn't solve the problem, if anything it exemplifies them because, as a shining example, Hades and Persephone suddenly get married right in the middle of an ongoing issue, which isn't exactly the best time to wrap up the story's main plotline. Since then readers have become less and less interested in their story, and can you blame them? By all accounts their story is over. Everything now just feels tacked on to give them something to do in a story they no longer fit into.

There's an episode behind the FastPass lock right now, Episode 265. It unlocks for free on February 17th, three days after Valentine's Day. Guess what episode it is?

Ah yes, the episode where Hades' initiates sex without consent with his wife who's suffering from panic attacks, who also happens to be a rape victim. Happy Valentine's Day, everyone.

I actually made this particular discovery while writing this essay, so that was a very unwelcome surprise, but it explains the sudden random shift from Persephone being so stressed over the ongoing situation that she's passed out to Hades just deciding for the both of them that now's the time to have sex. As much as the fans will defend this as a husband and wife's last chance at intimacy before diving into a dangerous situation, they'll also still conveniently forget - just like the narrative and Rachel herself - that Persephone is a rape victim, and Hades initiating sex with her after nearly having a panic attack isn't exactly a good look.

This is why our theories as to when LO ends are so firmly cemented in one specific time range, because the story's pacing and distractions seem only intent in one thing - getting the story to last until spring, when the series will most likely conclude. It's basically been all but confirmed by Rachel, from her stating the series would be ending in early 2024, to Inklore - an imprint that seems designed specifically for Rachel and LO - launching officially in spring of this year, undoubtedly just in time for Rachel to wrap up LO for good.

(and boy, do I have some words about Inklore and its plans for "Rachel Smythe Presents", but that's another essay entirely.)

At the end of the day, LO's pacing is equivalent to paint drying on the wall, but it relentlessly convinces us to keep watching because the paint is blue and pink and maybe, maybe it'll turn into a piece of art. But as is evident in the comment sections of the newest episodes, even the fans are starting to realize that paint will not magically turn into the final piece of art they've been waiting to see if the hand that wields it doesn't know what it's doing.

Though style may be gained as an accidental side effect of one's influences and experiences, what Lore Olympus' intent is remains to be seen, and the longer the story goes on, the blurrier whatever intent it could have becomes. Unless it somehow manages to pull off a twist of Attack on Titan proportions that thoroughly explains and ties together the plotlines that have been left in the rearview mirror, the vehicle that is LO will continue to trudge along at a snail's pace, until it inevitably either crosses the finish line or crashes - but by that point, anyone waiting for it could very well be gone, their good faith left behind at the starting line when there was still plenty of time to change its trajectory or stop.

Such a time is long, long gone.

[slytherinshua]

GIRL NEXT DOOR

genre. fluff. love at first sight (?) warnings. none. pairing. sungho x fem!reader. wc. 2.6k. a/n.surprise i write for boynextdoor now!!

You were moving from the big city to a small town. You were less than excited. All the streets looked the same to you. Plain houses built in the 60s lined neatly trimmed yards and sidewalks surrounded cul de sacs. It was the picture perfect suburbia— a small town where you would easily meet everyone your age within the first week going to your new school. You were dreading it.

“It’s so stupid that I’m moving. I’d be surprised if my dad’s new clinic is the only one that town has. They basically snatched him up the moment he accepted the offer.” You said bitterly, sipping on bubble tea with your best friend. It would probably be the last time you’d be able to have a bubble tea date with her for a while. Your heart sank at the thought.

“You’ve spent your entire life here… it’s a shame.” She sympathised, “But, you know what happens when you’re a new girl coming to a small town?”

“What?”

“You’re popular with the cute boys.” She teased.

“Come on- I’d be very surprised if I had anyone with a crush on me. I’ve never been popular.” You said, cringing as it brought back memories of your middle school years. You had gone through crush after crush, never landing on a proper relationship and always being rejected in the most humiliating way until eventually, you learned your lesson. When you got to high school, you forced yourself to stop being interested in boys. The couples making out in the hallway were enough to deter you, though. You would rather die than be that gross in public with your boyfriend. You weren’t one for PDA, that’s for sure.

“New kids either become popular, or stay quiet. There’s nothing about you not to like, so I think you have a good chance at becoming popular.” She reasoned. You thought about it. Your friend was rarely wrong. That’s what was so annoying about her. She was always right about everything. Maybe she would be right about this too.

Your phone binged with a text from your mom and you sighed, “Shit, I’d better go. The movers are here and I need to help move the boxes into the truck.” 

“Alright. You’d better text me and call me when you get there. I want a house tour and everything. I’m still your best friend even if I’m 4 hours away.” She smiled and you returned it.

“I’ll keep in touch with you, don’t worry. I’ll text you later! Bye!!” You waved at her and jogged off.

Your family’s apartment had been filled with boxes for almost 2 weeks. Your mom was obsessed with having everything ready to go in advance to reduce the stress. This, of course, only increased your stress every time you looked at your bedroom’s plain walls and brown cardboard boxes stacked on the floor in place of your dresser and desk.

You had transferred all your clothes to a suitcase a week prior after having to sort through them and donate everything that was too small or that you didn’t wear often enough. Fashion had always been something you were interested in and you were already dreading the fashion atrocities you might see in a small town. You doubted they would have good clothes stores either. 

You spent the rest of the day hauling boxes into the truck and struggling to help your dad lift the heavy things with the movers. Since you were just slightly stronger and more able bodied than your mom, you had no choice but to help. Moving armchairs down the stairs would be a nightmarish experience that you would remember for weeks, no doubt.

When everything was packed, you collapsed on the floor, tired and muscles aching. You looked around your empty apartment. The walls looked so bare and lonely without your mothers paintings on them. It looked way too clean and way too different. Your entire childhood had been spent living here. 17 years in this old trusty apartment complex. 

You remember going over to the lady next door for tea when you were little. She would tell you about her matchmaking business and all the cute couples she had been responsible for. She promised one day to set you up with someone… looks like that plan wouldn’t be working out after all.

You stood up and walked over to her door. You hoped she was there. You wanted to say goodbye before you left tomorrow. Maybe she would offer you tea just like when you were 7.

//

Sungho peeked out his window with curiosity. The house next to his that had been inhabited by a sweet old couple had finally been sold. He had overheard his parents talking about the new family moving in. Apparently they were going to start a clinic since the father was a family doctor. Sungho wasn’t interested in that, though. What piqued his curiosity was his parents saying that the couple had a daughter. A daughter around his age.

When they had first brought up the topic over dinner, Sungho had shrugged off their teasing about a cute girl moving in. But now he was anxiously looking out his window every 5 minutes, waiting for the moving truck to pull into the driveway of the house. 

His father and him were going to help the new family move in. Sungho’s mother had told him it would be a perfect opportunity to introduce himself to you. He was nervous with butterflies in his stomach at the thought. It wasn’t everyday that a new family moved into town. It was a very rare occurrence.

Soon he spotted the red car driving up the cul de sac with a moving truck following closely behind it. He gulped and fixed his hair in the mirror before running down the stairs. He joined his father outside and went through introducing themselves to your father.

He peeked at the car again, wondering if you had already stepped out. You hadn’t, but you soon did. Sungho wished you hadn’t, because shit you were pretty. He gulped and gave your father a smile before offering to grab one of the boxes. He could feel his cheeks heating up the longer he stared at you and forced himself to shake off his stare and look elsewhere. He hoped he didn’t make his pink cheeks too obvious, but he was pretty sure you hadn’t even noticed him yet. Maybe that was for the best.

“Y/n, come introduce yourself to the neighbours!” Your mother called with a smile on her face as she talked to Sungho’s parents.

You groaned and walked over, keeping your head down for the most part. You hoped they weren’t some country bumpkins who would insist on your family joining the town’s monthly potluck after a church service.

“Hello, Y/n, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Mrs. Park,” You nodded with a slightly forced smile. The lady seemed nice, honestly, but you weren’t in the best mood for socialising. You desperately wanted to set up the wi-fi at your new house so you could text your friend, but your parents would scold you if they knew that was the only thing you were thinking.

“And this is Sungho. You two are the same age.” Mrs. Park said happily, beckoning Sungho over to say hello. You looked up, slightly intrigued by what the boys were like in this new town. And Sungho did not disappoint. You couldn’t deny that he was handsome. Very handsome.

“Hi.” You smiled and waved a little. He waved back with a little lopsided smile that you could only assume was out of nervousness. He looked nice dressed in a denim jacket and hair brushed back but still a little messy from the light breeze tousling it. He must have caught you staring cause his smile widened slightly making his eyes crinkle into a cute eye smile. Fuck, why did you think he was cute?

Sungho and his dad helped move the heavy stuff into your new house. You were relieved the task wasn’t placed on you this time. While they were busy, you walked through the house, adjusting to the thought that this was your new home. Your room was bigger than before and even had a big window facing the Park’s house. Your brain automatically wondered whether it was Sungho’s room that you could see through your window. If all the houses in this town were built similarly, then it could be the case.

“Your room looks nice.” You turned around to Sungho with a big box in his hand. He set it down on the hardwood floor with a smile. “Do you want help unpacking?”

“Uh, sure! I’m not the strongest so… getting my bed and dresser in here would be a struggle.” You admitted. 

“I’ll grab them for you.”

//

After your first night in your new house you realised that Sungho’s bedroom was indeed the one facing yours. He stayed up late, just like you. It was around 6 weeks later and both your lights were on still, even though it was around 11 pm. You were lying on your bed, trying to count sheep to help you fall asleep. Except all your sheep strangely morphed into Sungho because he was all you could think of.

Your family had eaten dinner with the Parks a lot of times so far, and you would say you were fairly adjusted to the new town. You didn’t go out much unless it was for a bike ride or to the library, but it wasn’t as bad as you thought. Since it was still summer and you were too introverted to want to go out and hunt for friends, the only person who you knew was Sungho. You talked a lot in your backyard or his. You caught him wearing a necklace that you had wanted for a long time and found out he was interested in fashion as well from the encounter.

It was like the most you discovered about him, the more you had in common. You even liked the same idol groups and were fans of the same authors. How did you even manage to get this lucky with your neighbour? Plus, the more you hung around him, the more you thought he was cute.

You peeked out your window to see if he was visible from his window. He was. He was sitting at his desk and the lamp on it perfectly illuminated his face so you could see all the details of it.

“I should’ve asked for his number by now, darnit.” You mumbled to yourself. You hadn’t thought of it before since you lived right next to each other, but it wasn’t like you could go over this late at night. You’d have to improvise. You thought for a second before searching through one of your unpacked boxes for your sketchbook. Usually you would doodle outfits that you thought you would look good in in this sketchbook, but for now, it was going to serve a different purpose. You got out a sharpie and started writing in large, easy to read text. 

Do you stay up late a lot? 

You thought it would be awkward to put a simple ‘hi’ or ‘hey’ so you stuck to a question that he could answer. It took some courage to stand where he could see you from his window and hold up the sign, but you managed.

It didn’t take very long for him to look up from his desk and notice the sign. You watched him read it and then make eye-contact with you, his charming smile overtaking his features again. He stood up and went somewhere else in his room, presumably to grab paper and a pen. Soon he was back and he held up the sign in response to yours. 

Yeah. If it bothers you that my light is on, I can turn it off :) 

It doesn’t bother me. I usually stay up late as well.

He smiled again, looking down at his desk as his cheeks tinted a bit. He hoped you didn’t notice. Was it weird that he already liked you so much? He was suddenly reminded of how his past crush had been stolen by another boy right in front of his eyes. His friends had told him he hadn’t been direct enough and that was why she had chosen someone more straightforward. But he had just been too shy to confess directly. He didn’t want to repeat that mistake again, so he took a breath and gathered some stored up courage, picking up his pen again.

Can I have your number?

He held up the sign nervously, one hand anxiously fiddling with his shirt as he waited for your response. You shouldn’t be too opposed, right?

I was just about to ask you! It’s *** *** **** :) 

You were smiling as widely as he was which both calmed his heart and made it beat faster. What if you liked him too? What if you thought he was cute? What if he had the same effect that you had on him? He shook off all of his thoughts, telling himself that he was getting ahead of himself. 

He carefully copied your number into a new contact and sent a simple ‘hey, it’s sungho’ to make sure he got it down correctly. You felt almost giddy receiving the first text from him. You had given your number to your crush just like that? And he had asked you for it? The thought had your cheeks heating up again.

It was past 1 and you were still texting him. It was hard to want to stop, he was just so cute, even over text. Whenever he thought he overstepped, he would apologise so fast until you told him that it was fine. It felt different from talking to him over the past 6 weeks. It felt way more like talking to a crush than talking to a friend, which didn’t help your bad case of lovesickness.

When you started to yawn, you decided you should probably say goodnight to him. He must be tired as well.

i’m a bit tired, i think i’m gonna go to sleep for the night - Y/n 1:21am

ok! sleep well, y/n!! - Sungho 1:21am

btw - Y/n 1:21am

yeah? - Sungho 1:22am

you’re really cute - Y/n 1:22am

goodnight! - Y/n 1:22am

You turned off your phone quickly, eyes a bit wide as you wondered why you had sent that last text. Where did you even get the confidence? God, what if he thought you were weird. He probably only saw you as a friend, or worse, the new annoying neighbour girl. You groaned at your stupidity and peeked at your phone again. He had read the text, but hadn’t replied.

“Shit, I really messed up.” You felt like smacking your head against the wall. What were you thinking?!

I think you’re cute too - Sungho 1:26am

You blinked, and then blinked again. Oh. You put down your phone and shut your eyes, willing yourself to go to sleep and not think about it too much. You could always wake up tomorrow and realise that this was a whole big misunderstanding or something. There was no way that Sungho really thought you were cute, right? But what if he did?

You opened your eyes again, looking at the texts with him again.

sleep well cutie <3 - Sungho 1:27am

You failed to get to sleep that night. So did Sungho.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ boynextdoor taglist: open!

[randomly--accessed--memories]

Each cast member's relationship with Vox in RAM

Alastor – Alastor decided to break Vox on a whim. Seven years ago, during one of their fights, he managed to subdue Vox, which he'd never fully managed to do before; usually, they would fight to a stalemate or one of them would decide to make their escape before things could get really serious. With Vox at his mercy, Alastor found himself recalling a certain experiment he performed several years ago on the former overlord of the fashion industry. Alastor wanted to claim victory over Vox, make him suffer for his decades of insolence, and, most importantly, wind back the clock. Vox used to be his starry-eyed little protégé, hanging on his every word and doing exactly as he said. He missed that version of Vox (or rather, what that version did for him and his ego) and hated the crass, obnoxious megalomaniac he'd become. If that experiment had transformed Niffty into such a loyal, amusing thrall... why not try the same with Vox? Alastor took Vox into the basement of Vee Tower and did things to him that no one will ever know, broadcasting his screams to all of Pentagram City. Once he was satisfied with his work, he dumped Vox's mangled body in the lobby and completely vanished from the Pride Ring for seven years. He hoped that, whenever he returned, he'd find a Vox that was far more to his taste. And he got his wish. Or at least, he thought he did.

Alastor finds Vox's state quite amusing, and he derives a great deal of satisfaction from having such total control over him, but... he still misses the old Vox, in a way. Alastor enjoyed the challenge Vox used to pose. He enjoyed being able to banter with him. He enjoyed how, for 60 years, he and Vox perpetually feuded, but never truly defeated each other. This new version of Vox offers none of that. He's almost cloyingly docile with Alastor and absent-minded to the point of incompetence. There's only so long the novelty of watching his greatest rival reduced to a pathetic, feeble-minded wretch can last. Still, Alastor is unwilling to let Vox go. He's his toy now, and there might still be some fun to be had by dangling him over the Vees' heads until this nonsense with the hotel is finished.

Angel Dust – Angel's feelings about Vox are deeply complicated. He was one of the few non-overlords who knew that Vox was still alive and had lost his mind, due to his constant proximity to Val. Vox's condition was a constant source of rage, grief, and frustration for Valentino, and more often than not, he chose to take those feelings out on Angel. He wishes so badly that he could just ignore Vox or laugh at his suffering, but he can't. Seeing it up close every day isn't cathartic, it's just sad, and he hates that it makes him pity the man who happily enabled his abuser for decades on end. He'll never forgive Vox or become his friend, but, after several months at the hotel, he decides that he can at least be a better man than Vox ever was and not be needlessly cruel to him. Read more here.

Charlie – Vox grows to really like Charlie (just like everyone else tbh). She's just so endlessly patient and kind; she always treats Vox with respect and understanding, which makes him very eager to please her. If she sets him a task, whether it's related to hotel maintenance or the redemption activities, he'll try his best to do it right– and if he fucks up, he'll attempt to make it up to her somehow, even if his methods are kind of... extreme (Accidentally fried the hotel TV? Time to go steal a new one!). They're not super close friends, but there's a lot of affection between them.

Cherri Bomb – Cherri is unsympathetic to Vox once she finally meets him. She's not willing to forgive him for what he helped put Angel through for all those years and tries to get Angel to laugh with her about how he got what he deserved. As much as he'd like to, Angel can't bring himself to laugh along. She'd probably be the hotel resident most willing to mock or prank him (other than Alastor) once she moves in, but we'll see what happens in season two.

Husk – Husk does his absolute best to never exchange words with Vox unless there is literally no other option. Vox scares the shit out of him. It'd be one thing if Niffty was just a one-off– maybe something went wrong with her during Alastor's usual overlord-murder routine and he just decided to roll with it– but seeing explicit confirmation that, no, this is something Alastor can and will do to people just for shits and giggles is terrifying. Husk has no love in his heart for Vox as a person, but watching Alastor puppet him around and utterly rob him of his dignity makes Husk fear and hate Al all the more. If Husk steps too far out of line, what's to stop Alastor from doing the same thing to him, someone he actually has under contract and who no longer has access to the power that Vox and Niffty had when they were broken?

Lucifer – Vox has an ongoing delusion that Lucifer is one of his old bosses from his human life. He's constantly sucking up to him, trying to earn his approval so he'll finally give him that promotion he's been after. Lucifer finds this situation fun and plays along. He's not malicious about it– he genuinely just enjoys putting on a show and doesn't think it's doing Vox any harm. He may or may not care about who Vox used to be; if he does care, it's only in the context that Alastor is capable of doing this to his fellow sinners, and that's all the more reason not to let him continue to manipulate Charlie.

Niffty – Vox and Niffty instantly click. They're from the same time period and are both in similar mental states, so they get each other on a level no one else in the hotel can. Alastor specifically fucked with Vox's mind to make him more amenable to retro culture, so Niffty's 1950s sensibilities immediately make him feel at home with her. She's also the only one in the hotel who isn't even remotely bothered by his cognitive issues. Vox forgets what he's talking about halfway through a conversation and tries to leave to do something else? Niffty will come along happily, regardless of what they were originally doing. Vox fries electronics or shocks her by accident? Yay, pain! And now there's a mess for her to clean up! They just adore each other. Neither of them is cognizant enough to realize that they're both ex-overlords in the exact same situation– they just "naturally" get along completely separate from that. They're one hell of a double act, causing problems without realizing it and occasionally calming down enough to have sweet, quiet moments together. Out of everyone in the hotel, Vox will miss Niffty the most once he finally goes back to Vee Tower.

Sir Pentious – Pentious is sent by the Vees to infiltrate the hotel and report back on how Vox is doing, as well as if the hotel has any vulnerabilities that they can exploit in order to rescue him. He isn't caught quite as quickly as he is in the main verse and instead choses to defect from the Vees after a few months due to how willing they are to kill everyone in the hotel as soon as they get Vox back. Pentious used to look up to Vox as one of the most powerful overlords in Hell and is caught off-guard by the state he's now in. Even as Pentious is playing double agent, he finds himself becoming very attached to the hotel and its residents, including Vox himself. Vox is supposed to be the hotel handyman, but he ends up breaking things more often than he fixes them due to his short attention span and volatile powers. Pentious finds himself helping Vox with his job more and more often; he has a lot of experience with wrangling mentally not-all-there people (or eggs, in his case) into successfully completing complex tasks, after all. Vox ends up liking Pentious a lot; they talk about mechanical stuff and Vox finds Pentious' big personality funny and interesting and attention-grabbing. They strike up a pretty sweet little friendship, which gives Pentious a bit of an ego boost that an ex-overlord likes him enough to consistently want to spend time with him. And at no point does Vox ever feel compelled to scream at Pentious to kill himself. Read more here.

Vaggie – Vaggie mostly kept her distance from Vox for the first six months at the hotel, like she did with most of the other residents. She doesn't trust easily, so it takes a while for her to open herself up to people. She sort of mentally filed Vox under the same category as Niffty: Erratic weirdos who Alastor brought to the hotel for God knows what reason, but who don't seem to be malicious. She struggled a lot with being patient with him and dealing with his destructive fits though. Her first instinct is to attack when threatened, so Charlie often had to get in between the two of them whenever Vox started losing control. Eventually, Vaggie starts picking up on the fact that something is off about Vox and Alastor's "friendship." Once she learns what happened to Vox, she finds herself empathizing with him quite a bit; she knows how it feels to be blindsided and left to rebuild your life from nothing, as well as what it's like to be an ex-monster hiding in plain sight.

Valentino – Valentino has not been doing well these past seven years. He was never known as an overlord with an abundance of self-control, but any he may have once had has gone completely out the window. He simply does not know how to deal with his emotions, so instead, he takes them out on everyone and everything around him, including himself. His reputation for needless violence towards his workers has grown exponentially every year since Vox's encounter with Alastor. He constantly starts totally unnecessary fights with other overlords and wannabe overlords just to give himself an outlet for his anger. He's abusing his body in a manner he hasn't done since he was alive and is doing so with increasing frequency. He's become a rabid dog that everyone in Hell knows needs to be put down, but no one can manage it because he and Velvette have become so powerful in Vox's absence.

But for some reason that even he can't understand, Val leaves most of that anger at the door when he goes into Vox's quarters to make sure he isn't driving his claws through his screen, or curled up in the corner of the room, screaming at memories from decades ago, or simply catatonic, unwilling or unable to move or speak. He becomes something that he never– not in a million, billion years– would've ever thought himself capable of being: a caregiver. A shitty one, probably, but a caregiver, nonetheless. He'll do his best to calm Vox down during his bad spells and, amazingly, manages not to retaliate when Vox lashes out at him. He'll try to provide what little comfort he can when it seems as though Vox is about to shatter into a million pieces. He somehow finds it within himself to be patient when Vox can't recognize him and asks the same questions over and over and over again. And never– not even once– has he been tempted to take advantage of Vox's vulnerable state. Why?! Preying on vulnerable people is his entire identity! Val cannot understand why– if he can't bring himself to take advantage of this weak, pitiful version of Vox– he doesn't just go back to his room, retrieve his angelic bullets, and put Vox out of his misery already. But he doesn't want to. Not really. Vox is his. And no matter what, he always will be.

Velvette – Velvette always considered herself "the backbone of the Vees." Well, now no one can deny that fact and she's infinitely less satisfied with her afterlife because of it. After it became clear that Vox was not going to recover, she took over his old position as CEO of VoxTek (now VTek). She'd always idly coveted Vox's power, but now that she has it, she's utterly overwhelmed. Between running both her and Vox's businesses, caring for a Vox who doesn't even recognize her most days, and having to deal with Valentino's self-destructive spiraling, she's simply spread too thin. Vox's situation on its own is so deeply emotionally draining, it's a miracle she still has energy to run the company. She knows she can't falter though, even for a minute. Everything, from her own power to Vox's personal wellbeing, is hanging on her ability to project strength and carry on like nothing's wrong. And on top of all that, none of the other overlords or the public in general give her the respect she deserves. They see her as a nepo baby who inherited the bulk of her empire from a man too arrogant to realize that sharing power is not generally considered a respectable strategy in Hell. It almost makes her as angry as Val, although she makes an effort to actually control that anger or at least put it towards something productive.

She never realized how much she loved Vox until she essentially lost him. She knew she had a good bit of affection for him, but she never would've anticipated that she'd be willing to go to such lengths for him. She's not a patient person, but she finds herself becoming one with Vox. She'll play along with his delusions if that's what he needs from her that day (even that horrible, gut-wrenching one where he thinks she's his seven-year-old, human daughter). She'll make whatever accommodations to the tower that are needed in order to keep him safe and as happy as he possibly can be, no matter how much they cost. She'll shout Val down when he reaches his breaking point and nearly lashes out at Vox, and then turn around and offer whatever comfort Val will accept when he breaks down over losing the only person he ever loved. The urge to be kind makes her skin crawl– she fully committed to becoming the most callous, impudent, self-serving version of herself years ago (with Vox's own guidance!)– and it makes her feel weak to love this deeply, but... she'll never stop. Not until all three of them are banished to the bottomless pits of Purgatory.

[themarsmaiden]

Accolade

Yuri x Gn!Reader

alternate universe

Summary: [Name] and Yuri have known each other since they were kids. Always competing, and now they prepare for their final year in high school. For their colleges of choice, the science fair, and in love.

Case Study 2: The Partner Punnett Square

September; Yuri’s Birthday

September had started, and the year-long project that Dante had announced a few weeks ago is finally starting.

It would be a partner project, and [Name] already had a few ideas on what them and Rui would be doing for this-

“[Name], Yuri, not so fast.” called their professor, pushing up the glasses that rested on his face. “Come here for a minute.”

Before either of them could start talking to anyone around them, they went over to where their professor was.

“You two will be working together.”

The two of them were stunned silent, he had to be kidding right? “Don’t give me that look, I warned you this would happen.” He sighs, “I’ve known you both for four years now, and every year is the same.” He organizes the stack of papers in front of him as he speaks, “Fighting, fighting, and more fighting. Now, I’m glad the both of you are showing interest in learning. It's a wonderful thing to see as a teacher, but its not wonderful when two of your students start bickering so much you can’t hear your own thoughts.”

He pulls out a sheet of paper from his desk, “So, I’m taking matters into my own hands. You two will learn to get along whether you like it or not.” He gets back to the stacks of papers in front of him, and without looking up he dismisses them, “You can go now.”

The two of them scramble to their tables, [Name] looking down and scowling at the paper in their hands that had become scrunched in their hands.

________

Rubric:

100% - Worked on by both partners, clear interest and understanding in the subject. Min. 500 word essay documenting your findings.

80% - Worked on by both partners, some understanding in the subject. Essay reaches 500 words, but barely exceeds 500

60% - Worked on by both partners, minimal understanding, no essay

40% - Not worked on by both partners, no understanding, no essay

Partner Punnentt Square

You will learn about your partner over the course of the school year, find out about their parents and genealogy and how it aligns with them today. Make punnentt squares of 4 key traits, they could be visible or mental. In your essay, both of you must understand each other thoroughly and genuinely. It must be an unbiased view on the individual.

NOTE: I understand the other students get to choose what they do, however you will not get the privilege of doing so. Consider it punishment for continuing to bicker after I told you to stop :)

________

Yuri stomps over to them, “Stop gawking over that piece of paper, follow me to my table, we must discuss the contents of our project.”

[Name] hurriedly grabs their bags and mouths, ‘Save me’ to Rui as they run over to the otherside of the lab where Yuri sat.

“Now as much as I hate you, I think we should continue working on Project: Jiro, the mysteries left to solve just cannot go untouched.” He immediately spoke, blissfully unaware of what was written on the paper in his unwilling partner’s hands.

“Yuri.”

“He has a rare genetic disease that makes it hard for him to live,” He continues on, most likely intentionally ignoring the coming calls of his voice from his rival.

“Yuri.”

“So I think we can-”

“Yuri!”

Finally their voice, now booming across the loud chatter filled room, cut him off from his train of speech. “What?” he looks down at them, annoyed and unamused. They hand him the paper, which he takes aggressively. “Project must be worked on by both partners, 500 word essay… Partner Pennett Square?! An idiot could have done this!!” he crumples the paper even further in his hands. “Am I being reduced to a little kid?”

“And this is why I don’t like you.” [Name] mutters under their breath. “What was that?” He turns to them, “You’re conceited to the point you won’t hear me over your own talking, you reduce thought out projects to kid projects because they aren’t ‘good enough’ for you, it’s annoying.”

“Get over yourself [Last Name], you’re the exact same person you just described and you know it.” He crosses his arms across his chest and scowls.

The bell dismissing the school day rings. “I do not look forward to working on this with you.” says [Name] as they walk away, grabbing their bag. “Likewise.” responds Yuri, who goes his own way from the classroom.

Thus marks the start of Case Study: The Partner Punnett Square, a year long study that will take [Name]’s sanity. On a positive, they note, it will help advance Case Study: Isami Yuri, but at what costs?

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

A week later, [Name] found an email in their inbox from one Doctor Yuri Isami, it read, as follows:

_____

Dear [Name],

As much as I do not like working with vermin such as yourself, I have found it within myself to put this aside for a grade. As such I expect only greatness from a lab partner chosen to work with me, failure in living up to these expectations will face dire consequences. Fortunately I, unfortunately, have faith in your want for a good grade as well. Thus, I invite you to start working on this project as soon as possible, so with all due disrespect, you are cordially invited to my birthday bash on September 14, I expect to see you there,

Sincerely

Isami Yuri

______

They stared, eyes gaping at their computer. “If you stare any harder you’re going to burn your retinas out.” A hand is placed on the chair behind them, “Oh Haku, hi, how did you get in here?”

“You left the door wide open.” He chuckles, moving to their side to read the email they had been staring at.

Kusanagi Haku, their Step-brother after both of their mom’s divorced their husbands and got married to each other. “A birthday invitation? From Yuri? Stare away then.”

They groan, finally reacting to the email, rubbing their hand against their forehead, “I forgot that day even existed. How is it possible that a man that terrible was actually birthed, and didn’t just spawn out of the darkest pits of Tartarus in a bursting pimple of ugly goop?”

“Hey, He’s not that bad a guy, he’s just… like a worse you. I mean, Mama birthed you, and you came out just as nerdy.” He pinches their cheek between his fingers, to which they slapped away. “And mom somehow birthed you.” They pushed him aggressively, shoving him to the side, “Now please don’t compare my genius with that of monsters.”

Haku laughs, “You’re so dramatic.” There was a momentary beat of silence, “So are you going to go?”

[Name] sighs, “Do I have a choice? If I don’t at least attempt to start on this project, Dante’s going to kill me.” They slide down further into their swivel chair.

“What about the secret evil third option?”

“Haku Kusanagi! I am not failing this assignment.” They say, appalled at the fact that he may even suggest the idea of failing a major grade. How will that look to Harvard Medical? Certainly not good, especially, especially, considering the fact it was a biology project.

[Name] mentally dismissed the fact that applications would have already been due and sifted through by the time this project was over, it didn’t matter, if they weren’t Harvard material throughout their entire school year, they weren’t Harvard material at all.

“Fine, fine, but you could always not go.” He waves them off, to which they shake their head. “No, I have to go, I have to cross this hurdle for the sake of my grade.”

Haku sighs, “Whatever you say…” He raises his hands as if in defeat, “But don’t complain to me about it when you get home, I know you. Complain to Edward or that Luca boy or something.”

[Name] feels a slight flush of embarrassment flush on their cheeks, “You can go now Haku! I’ll remember your words later.” They stand up and push him out of their room. “Maybe.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

The dreadfully fated day has come, September 14th, Isami Yuri’s birthday. [Name] had his case study mentally on hand for whatever interactions they might have this unfortunate day. When they arrived at the location, a decent sized house came into view. It was nothing grandeur, but it stood out for its gothic architecture compared to the relatively more modern houses that laid around it. One could only assume it had been there for a few generations already.

There was no crowd present anywhere near the house, perhaps one or two vehicles had been around but nothing more than that. [Name] always assumed Yuri had no friends, but they didn’t actually believe that was the case. However, it seems now that perhaps they had been right in that assertion.

When they walked up to the door they had been alone. They could not have work be ruined by distracting comments from Rui or Haku, and Edward was too ill to be invited out. When they knocked on the door they knew that this was it, there was no going back, they were now at Isami Yuri’s birthday party.

They were greeted by a tall boy, he loomed over them, quiet and intimidating. They had recognized his face almost instantly, Kirisaki Jiro. A boy who was technically enrolled in their school, but one no one had ever truly seen. Rumor had it that it was he who killed his brother a few years back, but [Name] knew that wasn’t the case. Mainly because their step brother had been friends with the victim, as had they been by proximity.

That’s how they knew the truth of Jiro’s mysterious disappearance, his illness. He had an autoimmune disease that made it hard for him to live normally, which left him hospitalized in a coma nearly 2 years ago.

His presence here does not surprise them in the slightest though after Yuri’s not subtle bragging on the matter of ‘reanimating’ him.

“Yuri, there’s someone here.” He calls out, not bothering to turn around towards the inside at all, choosing to continue to look down at the student in front of him instead.

Soon the man himself appeared behind Jiro, causing the taller boy to move out of the way. This allowed [Name] to get a good look at him. He wore a turquoise button down shirt that was not 100 percent button at the top, exposing just the slightest bit of his chest. Underneath his untucked shirt were a pair of black pants that matched the black shoes at his feet. Overtop it all laid the final piece of his ensemble, a white lab coat.

It was strange. It was really, really strange. They had never once seen Yuri outside of an academic environment, he always wore that nerdy sweater vest in their head. Though, if they had to guess what he’d wear in a semi formal setting, a lab coat is definitely on the list. It was nerdy and pompous, right up his alley.

A devil of a thought passed through their mind, ‘he looks good.’ A thought purposely buried far back in the depths of their subconscious. That one would never get out.

“[Name], you came.” He sounded a little surprised, as if he was not actually expecting them to come. He quickly masks his own emotions, clearing his throat, “Good, only to be expected of someone who values their grade. Now I will put aside my hatred of you for today, so please come in.”

He moves out of the way, allowing them to enter. This was still so odd. Everything about this was odd.

Yuri really was a real person, with a house, and other clothes, and a life. It was a thought that never really crossed their mind, and they’d prefer to bury it back in their mind and pretend that he secretly was Hades right hand man. Though they couldn’t do that, not here, not in his house, not with him on his birthday.

Though, they will later.

“You can set yourself down in the living room, and we can begin discussions of baseline topics for the project after Jiro leaves.” He led them into his house, there was a small hall into the living room that shared a slightly open space with a large kitchen. The inside was practically identical to the outside, gothic. Yuri Isami was not beating the Victor Frankenstein allegations he faced amongst the intellectual circles at school.

“Isn’t there anyone else here?” They ask, sitting down on a dark purple flur de lis couch. “Huh?” He stops his walking, turning his body half around. “You said that we could start once Jiro leaves, is there not anyone else here we have to wait for? Like your parents?”

He goes quiet, “No. There isn’t. Do not bring this subject up again.” His face dropped (if it could), and an awkward energy filled the space. “Okay, I won’t, sorry” They responded, with as little attitude as they could manage.

He turned back around, “Jiro, come with me to the kitchen, the cake is nearly ready, you need to decorate it.”

He walks into the space that occupied the kitchen. They could see in through the half wall that barely separated the two spaces. As Jiro fumbled around with the cake, [Name] fumbled around with what was in their hands.

A bag, it contained one notebook and a few pens and pencils, and also a small gift. It was nothing special, just a copy of Frankenstein. It was a small dig at him while also being “polite” to their host, as Haku said they should be.

They looked up after taking everything out, “Would you like help?” They ask as they see Jiro alone struggling to ice the cake. He nodded, “Sure.”

Now, they did have a problem with the fact that they offered to decorate Yuri’s cake, but they couldn’t sit there watching as a dead friend’s brother struggled alone, so they walked over into the kitchen and took the icing bag from Jiro.

“To his room.” he says blankly. They nod, “Why?”

He watches as they carefully pipe the chocolate cake with the white frosting. “He needed to grab something. Also I think he was a little uneasy with your-”

Before Jiro could spill any of Yuri’s secrets for Case Study: Isami Yuri, the man in question came back through the kitchen yelling his name. “Jiro! Do not fraternize with such speak with the enemy.”

[Name] rolls their eyes, pushing his cake away that is now very nicely decorated with a squiggly border and piped rosettes at the bottom. “I should just ruin your cake shouldn’t I?” They’re inside thought was voiced allowed in a small mumble, though one that everyone could hear.

Yuri looks over at the cake in surprise, “You’re actually capable of doing feeble tasks?” He voiced, somewhat admiring the work done to the cake. “Rui likes to bake a lot, well more like Ed likes to eat a lot of sweets. I just picked it up from that.” They say, ignoring his insult to the best of their abilities as they pick up a teal gel to write ‘happy birthday yuri’.

As much as they wanted to write something mean, they decided against it. It was for the grade, they told themself.

Oddly enough, there weren't any more scuffles between the two before Jiro left. It was possibly because the awkward boy served to mediate any arguments just on the basis of, ‘jiro’s here.’

Once he left however, things became… rough.

[Name] grabbed their pencil and sat down on the living room couch, “Let’s start on this I guess.” They opened their notebook and made a small traits chart.

Yuri clears his throat and agrees and sits down next to them, taking out his own notebook. They took turns going over simple traits like hair color, eye color and height. “What about your parents? We should start with our moms.” [Name] suggested, “What can you tell me about yours?”

Yuri stayed quiet, as if searching his mind for an answer. “No.” More silence filled the air, “No?” They asked. “No.” He stood up, setting his notebook down. “I shouldn’t bare repeating myself to someone as naive as you.”

They stood up, “That was out of nowhere??” They set their notebook down. “And this is why I don’t like you.”

Yuri turns around, “You look down on everyone else.” They walk closer to him, “What makes you say that?” They roll their eyes, “One small thing and you insult me.” They walk closer again, making him back up, they point their finger towards his chest.

“Don’t act like you’re better [Name]” He rolls his eyes, his eyebrows furrowing. “I am better, Yuri.” They take one step, “You don’t have any friends because you’re that unbearable.” Another step. “You consume yourself in your work and make it your entire personality.” Another step. “You then make yourself seem like the smartest person on earth.” Another step, “The only time I’ve seen you smile is when you’re bragging about your genius.” Another step.

“You just turned eighteen, but you’re still a child, Isami.” Suddenly the boy was against a wall looking down at them, his face hid a small amount of panic and fluster. [Name] seemed to realize their proximity and stepped away after a few too many seconds in this position.

“I’m sorry. That was inappropriate of me.” They seemed to realize everything they had been ignoring before, though they couldn’t realize why. Perhaps it was because the weight of their words was unwarranted and they finally noticed they weren’t better. Haku was right.

Yuri stayed silent and still, as if he hadn’t exactly processed what happened. They couldn’t blame him, they had just pinned him to the wall and berated him, over one sentence.

[Name] excused themself and left, leaving the copy of Frankenstein untouched and uncommented on.

At home that night they reflected and came to the conclusion that they’re resentment had just been growing the whole night and that they had just kept it in for the sake of appearances. It wasn’t something they were used to doing, and it got to them.

Still, they meant every word, and they knew it. It was just how they’ve felt this whole time. Yet? They felt bad.

The image of Yuri under their gaze, quivering almost, it portrayed him as human, not as a monster.

This would certainly cause interesting developments for both case studies regarding the man.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

A/N: The end was rushed 💔 this was already posted to ao3 :3!! The Greek mythos stuff was specifically references to the Pjo/HoO/TOA versions of the stories because I love it sm!! I kinda wanted this to be released on his birthday but no… yeah idk if there was anything else for me to say but :3

Also this was 3100 words

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[lysergicdaydreamm]

The rant post 5 whole people asked me to make

I have recently gotten into I Have No Mouth And I Must Scream by Harlan Ellison. Before I begin the rant let me get a few things out of the way:

I do not own the game. I never will own the game. I am about half way through watching a playthrough of people playing the game. I have read the short story twice now. I did not know that the short story existed until I was halfway through watching the game play through. I will not be finishing the play through.

Fantastic. Rant post starts now.

The IHNMAIMS game fucking sucks in comparison to the short story. Obviously this is not the worlds hottest take I made a poll a while back and like 60 something percent of the people that voted agree that the story is better than the game. In this post I want to break down why I personally think this. If you want to add your reasoning feel free to reblog but since I don’t want to argue with strangers on the internet I will not be arguing with you all.

1. The differences in characters.

In the game some of the characters are so drastically different in the worst ways possible. It is hard for me to genuinely resonate with Ted in the game (as I did watch his section of the game) meanwhile in the story I GENUINELY felt horrible for him. Benny is reduced to little more then ‘haha cannibalism’ and also just NOT bringing up that he was gay even though it is directly mentioned in the story. While I’m talking about Benny literally why was AM so goofy in that section of the game? Im not even gonna TALK about Nimdok because what the fuck happened there?Point is the characters were changed DRASTICALLY for the game.

2. THE STORY ITSELF IS SO DIFFERENT????

Genuinely a ihnmaims game where we actually follow the plot of the story would be so so cool. Playing from Ted’s pov would be incredibly interesting and the ending would be gut wrenching, but instead we got whatever the fuck this is?

3. The artstyle.

Maybe just a personal note for me tbh, I usually adore pixel art and such but the artstyle for the game is heinous. Which is a real crime in a point and click game where you have no choice but to look at it constantly.

That’s all I have for now I’m tired but I hate the game please if you want to get into ihnmaims PLEASE PLEASE read the short story or if you’re not fond of reading there’s like a comic dub up on YouTube that is basically the short story verbatim and it has a VERY nice artstyle

[fairyhaos]

seventeen and try not to laugh

how seventeen will attempt to cope during a game of 'no laughing'

masterlist

seungcheol:

one of the most terrible. someone tells him not to laugh, then he gets the most overwhelming urges to laugh. like reverse psychology, you know? buries his head into the sofa cushions and tries his hardest to disassociate from the rest of the members bc even just looking at dokyeom's face will 100% make him snort with laughter. his face isn't visible the entire time. he has a crick in his neck from keeping his head in the cushions. his body is practically vibrating but it doesn't count as laughing if you can't hear or see him doing it

jeonghan:

has to bite his lips soooo hard to stop himself from bursting out into laughter at ostrich-coups with his head in the cushions. tries to make one of the younger members laugh first bc only then can he laugh too. steadfastly refuses to be the first one to lose but can bear losing after the others. tries to tickle the other members, eventually gives up bc they try and tickle him back. is often the one who initiates the game and gets everyone to play

joshua:

is always protesting that he has a naturally smiley face so they can't hold that against him. pretends that he's not going to play, but the minute the first person laughs he's pointing at them and yelling that they lost and you guys he's been playing with you for ages what do you mean?? has the most offended look when someone calls him out for smiling, goes on a whole rant and sulks bc of the discrimination, makes them completely forget that he was called out in the first place. manages to last so many hours using this method, eventually loses bc he forgets he's even playing

junhui:

makes so many members fail just by looking at his face. is pretty good at keeping in his own laughs, but apparently he's a Very Funny Guy or something bc this one time mingyu entered the kitchen while he was eating crisps and snorted so hard that he gave himself a sore throat. eventually cracks because jeonghan comes to him practically in tears to show him ostrich-coups who's shaking the whole sofa with his silent laughs

hoshi:

like shua, complains that he's naturally a smiley guy. tries to lie upside down on the sofa thinking it's gonna help him reduce his laughter, almost ends up losing three minutes into the game bc in fact all it did was just make it worse. ends up making little snuffly laughs fifteen minutes in. is always one of the first members to lose the game

wonwoo:

always says that he's an emotionally dried up husk of a person so he won't laugh. jeonghan tries to tickle him for that, and is extremely disappointed when wonwoo doesn't so much as flinch. tries to make the other members laugh so he's not the first to laugh (2), and is so awkward and wonwoo-ish that he succeeds 60% of the time. is one of the three people that can make jihoon break

woozi:

ends up laughing bc of hoshi's laughs. or bc of wonwoo's stupid puns. or just bc of dokyeom's entire being. is never the first member, but has definitely never survived the whole game before. was one tickled by jeonghan until he couldn't breathe, but managed to continue the game bc he didn't laugh once and instead was screaming the entire time. that one incident managed to take out five other members, and he doesn't know if he should be proud of that fact

minghao:

"there's nothing to laugh about in life, anyway. why would i laugh during a game?" attempts to zone out to win the game, is thrown over mingyu's shoulder to break his concentration so he's forced to consciously fight against laughter. once came in second place, but eventually lost bc dokyeom (who'd lost hours ago) popped his head into his room to ask something before promptly losing his balance and falling over in the middle of his doorway and hoshi, who was walking behind him, ended up tripping and falling on his immobile body while trying to get to the living room

mingyu:

everyone knows that he'll end up being one of the first four to burst into laughter. finds absolutely e v e r y t h i n g funny while they're playing. hansol hit his toe against the door one time while going to the toilet and he dissolved into a mess of incoherent giggles. makes it his mission to make the other members laugh too, either by randomly letting out shrieky laughter or doing stupid things. has a 50% success rate. is currently holding a competition w dokyeom for how many members they can get to laugh, and he's right now losing 17 to 22.

dokyeom:

laughs really easily. like, really really easily. is always one of the first ones to point out when shua is grinning, finds it really unfair when his hyung manages to wriggle out of it :(( even tho he laughs really easily he doesn't rlly mind bc he's also absolutely incredible at making the others laugh too. was once the first one to lose the game and managed to make all the others lose in one go when he wanted to make a smoothie and blended the blender without the lid on, milk and berries going everywhere and making him look like he'd murdered an ice cream man

seungkwan:

physically tries to tape his mouth shut every time, is stopped by jeonghan so it can be a 'fair game'. attempts to film seungcheol with his head in the cushions as blackmail material, can never go through with it bc he'll start cracking up. is so competitive for no apparent reason?? always ends up losing anyway but is determined to one day make yoon jeonghan and joshua hong lose before him bc it doesn't make sense that they can beat him in a game like this

vernon:

the only thing that can crack him up is seungkwan. just. anything that seungkwan does can get him to fail instantly. tries really hard to avoid even looking anywhere near seungkwan's direction bc this is a game that he can win okay so long as seungkwan doesn't do anything remotely funny. is an accidental master at making others laugh, in the sense that it's always cuz of his accidents n also cuz he does it by accident. the most memorable time was when he (somehow) managed to put his whole foot in their wooden coffee table. stared down at it for a whole ten seconds before going "oh". managed to make joshua and wonwoo dissolve into laughter, ultimately winning the game

chan:

has a 50/50 success rate in holding in his laughs. if he just sits in the corner and stares at the wall the entire time, he could totally disassociate so hard that he forgets the members are even there. but is also painfully set on getting the others to laugh bc of him, ends up making himself lose bc reality always hits him while he's in the middle of doing a skit or trying to crack a joke

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[jamiesfootball]

Whumptober Easy Mode Edition

Day 2: Trust Issues

Going into Whumptober, I knew I wouldn't be able to fill every day's prompt. However, my discord group is doing daily discussions on each day's prompts, so my goal for the month is to at least play with the ideas and then share a little ditty about them on tumblr. If they get written in the future, great! If not, we can at least all have fun playing in the sandbox together

And then today's idea snowballed and it's actually longer than some of the fics I've posted - it's just gonna be like that sometimes. I talk a lot on discord.

So for today I have in mind an AU of the story I posted for day 1:

What if Ted had tried to reach out to Jamie after he was sent back to Manchester? What if he succeeded?

The general idea is that once Jamie leaves, Ted does keep attempting to reach out to him – at first with well-meant voicemails that Jamie reads the worst into, but then via annoyingly chipper text messages.

The problem is that the nicer Ted is, the more Jamie thinks he’s rubbing his face in it.

“Caught your game last night! I know you weren’t on the field much, but boy you made an impression on those spurs. Way to go, bud!”

To which Jamie hears Ted delighting in his severely reduced minutes, sarcastically mocking him for drawing a foul in the last ten minutes. Disguising mind games behind a facade of kindness.

He already got suckered in by that once. Look where letting people in got him. 

He has no way of knowing that Ted actually cares (except Ted insisting he does, of course). More than that, he has no idea that Ted feels guilty for him getting sent off like that without warning (Jamie doesn’t know what’s going on behind the scenes at Richmond, and Ted is taking full responsibility for the fact that Rebecca ‘misunderstood’ whether Ted wanted to keep Jamie.)

But if Ted thinks that his insistent ‘Good luck out there today!’s are going to somehow get into Jamie’s head, or even trick Jamie into giving up details about City, then he’s sorely mistaken.

In fact, Jamie’s going to take this opportunity to tell Ted exactly what he thinks of him.

So they fall into a pattern:

Ted watches all of Jamie’s matches, even the ones where he doesn’t play. He sends encouragement and cute gifs that make Jamie’s eyes roll into the back of his head.

In return, Jamie watches all of Ted’s matches and interviews. He unleashes insults. He mocks Ted’s ability as a coach and the team’s inability to score a fucking goal without him, and he never misses a chance to point out that Roy Kent is a hairy old twat past his prime.

To his horror this only makes Ted start bringing up Jamie in his interviews, talking about how impressed he is with Jamie’s performance and how he does know one thing that Pep doesn’t seem to know: that that kid’s gonna be a star one day.

(Ted doesn’t think for a second how the fuck that’s going to land for Jamie when he goes back into the dressing room. Fucking hell, Ted)

But then the thing about Manchester is that Jamie really didn’t know how good he had it at Richmond until suddenly he had to deal with his dad being around all the fucking time. And it’s absolutely eroding him, like roadkill getting dragged under the wheels of a car.

So one day he has a match where he gets to play the full ninety. Should be a good thing, right? He can finally show off, and hopefully it’ll help him shake off the weird funk he’s been in lately (trouble sleeping, trouble eating, jumpy as hell, and he can’t seem to focus on anything. Normal, but fuck it hasn't been this bad in a long time)

Instead what happens is he goes out and plays the worst 90 minutes of football he’s had all season. Possibly in his entire life.

He never stood a chance. With other players out on injury, it was a guarantee he’d play, and the opposing team came prepared for blood. 

Honestly, with the exception of one very bad moment, he wasn’t awful. Maybe 60-70% of what he’s been putting up all season. Not great, but he hasn’t had a full game with this team literally all season and his head is in a funky place and he’s stressed out.

But the match is a train wreck, and his dad lets him know it. He rips into Jamie like he’s nothing more than a wet newspaper left out overnight.

The cherry on the situation is when he gets home and checks his phone, he finds that Lasso didn’t even bother to send one of his condescending messages about how ‘great’ he played. That’s how bad he played – even lasso feels guilty taking the piss out of him.

Later that night when he’s licking his wounds and rewatching match coverage on Sky sports for the upteenth time, Jamie decides that no, actually, that’s not fucking fair. If Ted’s going to jerk him around then he needs to commit, he’s not allowed to go radio silent just because he feels bad for Jamie or he pities him or something.

He sends an absolutely scathing text message in this respect.

Meanwhile back in London, Ted also had a Bad Day. His marriage is officially dissolved, custody agreements inked and everything. He’s been antsy all day, and to make matters worse him and Beard had a– well, not a fight, exactly, but a cautioning. Beard knows that he’s been texting Jamie, trying to keep in touch with him, and he questions Ted as to whether he thinks that’s wise. He knows what sort of responses Ted gets out of Jamie, and while Ted brushes them off-

“He’s a bit feisty, but if you look past the bark, he’s not so bad. Hell if you edit out some of the profanity, he’s got some pretty good ideas for Richmond mixed in. Well, between taking pot shots at Roy, that is.”

– Beard thinks Ted is maybe letting himself be a bit of a punching bag out of misplaced guilt surrounding the circumstances of his leaving.

“Wow, you’re not mincing words today, huh?”

But between one thing and another, it all gets jumbled up Ted’s head. Later that night he has a conversation with Henry and it goes- fine. Forced. Feels like they’re just stuck in the same old pattern of Ted asking about school and then a few question about Michelle. Then it’s time for Henry’s day to start just as Ted’s is ending, and maybe he’ll pour himself a drink. Maybe he’s been drinking a bit more than he should be lately.

Mostly he feels like a scooped out person today. It’s not until he gets the text from Jamie that Ted realizes oh shoot, that’s right. Jamie had a match. He better get on that really quick.

Double-time, if the amount of acid of that text is any indication. The fact that Jamie reached out first at all is a concern in itself.

Despite what Beard accused him of (which does have some truth to it, if he’s being honest), Ted does, genuinely, enjoy talking to Jamie. He’s a sharp kid with his own point of view and a unique way of putting things together. Ted wouldn’t want to hurt Beard’s feelings by saying it, but Ted’s always learned better with a visual aid, and between watching Jamie’s matches and hearing Jamie talk unfiltered about Richmond’s performance, Ted thinks something’s finally starting to click for him when it comes to this silly little game they call football.

Or at least it’s clicked enough that when he watches the replay of Jamie’s match, his response is a very emphatic, “Oof.”

“Hey, bud. Sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner. It’s just been a long day. I just watched your match, and wooh-boy, I am sorry. I’m sure that wasn’t exactly how you were hoping your first full game back would go. You know, it’s still crazy to me that y'all actually give the credit of own goals to the player from the opposing team that did it? In hockey, we just give it to the teammate who’s the closest to the goal. Which now that I think of it, probably doesn’t make any sense either, but at least it feels more whimsical. A goal by association, you know, like just the power of somebody else’s presence being nearby was enough to turn the tide and make a difference.

“Look, I know you probably already heard all this tonight – that everyone has a bad day and one match isn’t the end of the world, even if it does feel like it at the time. But you know what, it doesn’t mean you aren’t talented. Sometimes a bad day is just a bad day; nothing for it but to sleep it off and try again next time. So chin up, alright? It’s not easy, trying to find your feet in a place where everyone else already knows what's going on, but anyone who knows you at all should know by now what you’re capable of. This was just a hiccup, nothing worth beating yourself up over. I believe in you, and I know you’ll get ‘em next time.

“Oh, and uh- sorry for the long, rambly voicemail. I know you don’t like those. I just…. I really want you to know that I hope you’re doing alright. And you can call me, too, if you ever need anything, anything at all. I’m just a phone call away.

“You have a good night now.”

Ted hangs up with a long sigh. Not his best work. Nothing he hasn’t said before, really, but he can admit to himself that his heart’s a little sore and that was probably more for himself than for Jamie.

Tomorrow, he promises, tomorrow when he's more clearheaded but no less tenderhearted, he’ll try again. Send Jamie all the usual encouragement and let the kid swat back at him.

Ted doesn’t know that approximately four hours north that Jamie’s listening to his message on repeat. That he’s biting his lower lip so hard that it’s reopened the split. That he’s trying to choke down a sob and losing. That if he presses his face any harder into the cushions, he’ll disappear.

No one told Jamie any of that. Ted’s the only one.

It was easier to brush off Ted when he couldn’t hear the sincerity in his voice. But he listens to the voicemail over and over again, until it’s burned into his brain, until it feels like a living thing in his chest scrambling to get out.

That’s when a niggling feeling of doubt starts to creep in and he starts to scroll back through their text history.

He rereads all the messages Ted has sent him the past few weeks. Caught between Jamie’s own barbwire responses are the “Good job, Jamie!”s and the, “Well done, champ!”s and the, “Well, I don’t know if that sort of feedback is necessarily gonna motivate Roy, but I´ll let him know you were thinking about him. We all really miss you, bud.”

Jamie starts to wonder what they would sound like if they were true. If they were sincere. If Ted really did mean them.

For some reason it’s that thought that finally makes the dam break.

The next two weeks pass in a blur. Ted’s not sure what changed, but after his voicemail something’s different. Usually Jamie thrills in letting Ted have the full force of his opinion, but lately the kid’s so clammed up it’s like digging for pearls. 

(From the way Beard gives him a so-so gesture when he shares his metaphor, Ted figures they’re still in not-agreement on the Jamie situation)

It’s disconcerting, this level of restraint. If he didn’t know any better, he’d swear the kid had gone shy. Not too shy, though. He’s still more than willing to tell Ted exactly where Richmond’s strategy is going wrong, although with less colorful language. No, it's mostly his responses to Ted that have taken a muted turn. The last few congratulations Ted has sent, they haven’t gotten back more than a thumbs up in response – which is the opposite of Roy’s usual thumbs down approach. Now Ted has two players that are stubbornly sticking to pictographic communication methods.

(He may not be Jamie’s coach anymore, but in every way that matters Jamie is still his player in his heart)

Ted’s still turning around the puzzle that is Jamie Tartt when the universe decides to throw him a curveball in the form of a phone call from the Mancunian devil himself.

Ted’s halfway through a greeting when Jamie cuts him off with a panicked, “You said I could call you if I ever needed something. Did you mean it?”

There’s a sense of urgency in his voice that makes the hair on the back of Ted’s neck stand up. 

“I meant it from the bottom of my heart. What’s going on? Are you okay?”

In the long pause that follows, ambient noise filters in, a severe and orderly racket that starts filling in some blanks.

Jamie inhales sharply. He sounds wrecked. “I’m in hospital. I’ve, uh. I’ve got a concussion, and they won’t let me leave without…”

He trails off. A small sniff brushes down the line, but it could just as easily be a shirtsleeve sliding across the speaker.

Ted is four hours away down in Richmond. He was on his way to practice. Later this evening, he has one of those press conferences that’s a little too shaped like a firing squad for his comfort. At lunch, he has a meeting scheduled with the scouting department. He’s spent the better part of a week trying to figure out a way to say, “I get what you’re all suggestion, but what I really want is sitting up in Manchester, warming the bench on somebody else’s roster.”

He doesn’t know when he decided he’d fight to get Jamie back, but it wouldn’t change his answer even if he did.

“I‘ll be right there.”

[atanxdoesstuff]

"Whenever I die... my memories are uploaded into a new body. But are they really 'mine'?"

aand my WIP is done! done-ish. idk what to add anymore; rendering is a social construct

ramblings + timelapse under the cut!

awright, so this piece was originally part of a comic-thing that i sketched out in my sketchbook. but it was just something i slapped on figuring i'd rework the composition later. well, i couldn't. it was too crowded. so this is severely reduced from the original plan.

the gist of it is that: obv the top left connor is connor-51. the side connor is actually connor-52. 51 died in "the hostage", but he did still manage to save emma! (i blame dbh youtube poop for making me think connor and daniel could shoot each other. so even tho thats not canon, let's just pretend that happened here lol)

now when you move files on your device, you aren't actually moving them. what you're doing is essentially copying the file into a new location and erasing the original. and based on this premise, i have inflicted an existential crisis on 52! :D it's sort of similar to soma, and their brain scans. is 52 the same person as 51? is it a continued existence or did 51 as a person die on that terrace, with 52 just simulating continued existence?

the game has conflicting stances there: on one hand, connor often says shit like "my predecessor was destroyed", implying that he thinks he's a different person. on the other, he also says shit like "i'll be back" and "this isn't over". and additionally, if hank has chosen to force quit life but connor still turns deviant, connor gets wrecked by 60 and to win, "transfers" himself into 60's unharmed body. and this is framed like an actual transfer.

i feel like if the data is "moved", it's not the same person anymore. to ensure the data transfer doesn't essentially kill the person and resurrect them as a clone of themselves, I think you'd need to physically disconnect, move and reconnect the memory storage device. if we're basing android physiology on currently existing tech, at least. but that's just my headcanon i use to inflict existential dread.

and here's the timelapse! :))

as you can see I've struggled a lot with this work :P i think i got to a point where this looks pretty fine to me (i still really like how i drew 52 here), although it could deffo be better.

i really want to also draw markus more. i've never even made a proper illustration for him but honestly i tried to digitally paint the grenade launcher scene bc its so pretty and i failed miserably. painting in digital is so hard?? idk i should research some stuff on how to do that because i really want to paint that scene still.

also north. north with the grenade launcher :O fuck i want north with the grenade launcher.

[ghostinthegallery]

Re-reading Twice Dead King, the character I was most struck by on a second viewing was Mentep. Now there’s a tragic figure. Simultaneously a mentor, an ally, an antagonist, someone so terribly understandable who I want to smack upside the head for being a lying liar who lies.

Ultimately, Mentep is a penitent. He has committed terrible acts (that we only get scant details of) and he wants to redeem himself. Thanks to his tampering with his own memories, he doesn't fully know what he is repenting for, which puts him in a bind. However, he knows that he played a role in creating the flayer curse/longing sickness, so he goes to a planet where a high concentration of them have gathered and works on his cure. He's respected, he's able to do his work with only occasional interruptions from the local angsty youth. Things are good-ish (until the armada shows up.)

Mentep and Oltyx have a weird relationship. Despite being his normal asshole-teenager self, Oltyx does respect Mentep more than most. Trusts Mentep enough to let the guy perform experimental brain surgery on him. Twice. And Mentep is able to be much more candid with Oltyx in return. He's one of the few consistently calling Oltyx out for his bullshit. On the surface, it is a standard mentor relationship, but what got me on a second reading is that there is hardly a single conversation Mentep has with Oltyx where he isn’t lying to and/or manipulating him.

It starts early with Yenekh. Mentep knows Yenekh has been suffering from the curse, he hasn’t told Oltyx, and when he finally has to tell him, he conveniently does so right before distracting everyone with the “oh btw, we’re all gonna die to a giant human armada” news. This is done with the best of intentions. Mentep wants to protect Yenekh (and Oltyx, in his way), so he delivers the news this way to get the bad news out of the way and then both of them on the same side. But it is the start of a pattern.

Which we get again when Mentep fails to mention a that Antikef is a flayer den ruled by a “We have Illuminor Szeras at home” Vizier, and boy does that end badly for Oltyx (see the last 60% of Ruin). Naturally, Mentep has a good explanation:

But it is another lie, one that costs Oltyx dearly (put a pin in this, I am coming back to it.)

There's some little fibs and ommissions along the way as they go to Carnotite, but it all builds up to The Big Lie. The one that sends Oltyx spiraling and gets Mentep killed. Because you know what really helps with paranoia? Finding out your mentor and your best friend have been hiding a secret blood pit in your basement! Again, it makes sense why Mentep is lying about this! He has every reason to believe Oltyx would have rejected the flayed ones he and Yenekh were sheltering (he in fact does exactly this), and Mentep's entire goal is to cure the curse to atone for his role in its creation. However...

I think Oltyx is correct to call Mentep out here (Oltyx is wrong about most things, but not this). Somewhere a long the way he became a means to an end for Mentep. Mentep was focused on The Curse and not the person in front of him who was cursed. He used Oltyx's friendship with Yenekh, his need to save his kingdom, his trust, his fears, all in service of admirable goals, but he was using Oltyx. Is it any wonder this is where it ended?

The lies were Mentep's undoing from the start. Remember the lie about Antikef? The one that led to all the events of Ruin? Yes, Oltyx and Djoseras did talk and avoid a civil war, but Oltyx also went through hell. He saw his home turned into an abbattoir, his father reduced to barely more than an animal. Oltyx was literally vivisected and almost consumed by his own dysphoria. And then committed regicide after leaving his brother behind to die. Antikef is where Oltyx truly learned that compassion was weakness and saw how horrific the flayer curse could become. So how was he ever going to accept the flayed ones as Mentep wanted him to? Oltyx experienced the comically perfect combination of traumas to ensure that would never happen, thanks in part to Mentep's manipulations.

I cannot stress enough that Mentep's individual lies all made sense at the time. May have even been the best option, at the time. But the consequences piled up, and even as he is dying he still refuses to give Oltyx even a scrap of the truth. That is the core of his tragedy for me. Well, that and this:

He bases all of his manipulations on his understanding of people's psyche's, which are usually accurate, but it also traps them. It gives them no room to grow or surprise him or for outside factors to come in and intervene. Contrast this with Zultanekh, who is upfront to a fault. He gives Oltyx advice and resources, but what Oltyx does with those things is up to him. Even when he is screwing up royally, he's allowed to make those mistakes. Mentep causes ones of Oltyx's darkest hours (the secret blood pit), while Zultanekh lifts him out of another (the Blood Angel's attack). In the end, Zultanekh is the one who sees Oltyx's true growth and witnesses the birth of his kingdom. A birth that comes not from curing the curse but embracing it.

There was never a sickness to be fixed, which means Mentep never would have achieved his redemption because he was focused on the wrong things. Which does make his death and rebirth as Xott a bit of a reflection of Oltyx. He was too burdened in his first life, but in his second he (or at least a version of him) was able to witness the people he hurt reaching a place of peace.

[themanlykittenkayden]

One thing I’m really curious about is how the creators themselves view the story in light of certain people being removed from the series.

Warning: I’m going to talk about those-who-shall-not-be-named (Wilbur and Forever)

Because here’s the thing. The whole reason these people have been removed from the series is to reduce their reach to hurt both the collective audience and their peer creators, and with that comes a decision to cut them from the narrative completely so that they don’t gain even a little of that notoriety and power back through association.

And so if they choose to completely retcon them out- as a lot of the community has chosen to do- I totally get that. In a lot of ways it’s the right choice- story and history be damned. At the end of the day nothing in a silly Minecraft story is important as real people’s lives, and I think (hope) all of the creators and writers left on QSMP seem to agree with that.

But… I also recognize that they have- to differing degrees- been part of HUGE parts of the QSMP story, both overall and in different characters lives, and unless we all collectively erase like 60% of the series so far, they will continue to be there in the history.

Like, on the lesser impact side, you have Wilbur, one of the original train-riding islanders, an original member of the Death Family, originally the only father of Talullah. He may been so absent that it became a running joke on the server, but if you cut every mention of him completely, Tallulah’s story and growth over the past year disintegrate underneath her. Tallulah was very specifically an only child of a single father, dealing with the constant feeling of loneliness in his absence, growing disillusioned with the world as he broke his promises and never came back for her, but also growing closer to her family as she learned what constant care and nurturing actually looks like through Phil. I’m all for her being fully adopted by Death Family now and taking more and more traits from Phil and Missa, but that new identity as part of their family is the conclusion of her story, not the beginning. While Missa is away a lot of time, he’s not absent in a way that’s fair or fitting to impose her story on to him.

Really the only choice is to disregard everything from the beginning and basically retcon her story entirely, or take the story as it is and let Wilbur be there. Although now the story has still changed a little with his removal because now he’s a deadbeat who made empty promises and couldn’t bring himself to do more than play house for a couple weeks and be possessive and toxic when he came back one time when she was missing- which feels like a pretty honest interpretation given what we know now.

But then there’s Forever. One of the Favela Five, a major face in and winner of the long series election arc, the face and President of both the islanders and Federation, one of the main characters in the Happy Pills/Eggs Missing arc, and one of the original parents of Richarlyson. He isn’t just a part of the QSMP history, he’s heavily intertwined with most of the server story between the early days and the Purgatory arc. Even interpersonally, he was deeply involved with Badboyhalo, Cellbit, Pac and to an extent Philza, and that’s just who I remember off the top of my head.

Where as Wilbur is only able to be found in the details in the little house he built for his daughter and the memories of the family she built, Forever’s influence is everywhere you look in the old parts of the server- his face on the Federation building, his projects littered around the spawn and his base and the Favela, the Favela it self built next to a man-made ocean he carved out of the landscape (if I remember correctly). I don’t want to overstate this and imply that he’s the most important character of the server or something because he’s definitely not, but it is true that as president he was deeply involved in and invested in the stories happening around him and removing him completely from history takes a lot of that history with him.

And choosing whether or not to remove his character is even harder than Wilbur’s because his character on the server was genuinely a good person. He was caring, charismatic, ambitious and visionary, he was both a leader and friend to a lot of the characters (and creators really), and in the end his character simply died trying to do what was right for his family.

I don’t know, I don’t really want their stories to stay relevant to the QSMP. Maybe I’m overthinking their relevance. Maybe the creators will continue to just ignore it. Maybe when we get the writers back and they’re properly paid for their work they’ll have the creative energy needed to rework their histories in a satisfying way without them- that’s what I hope at least.

In a way this post is kind of just a little thought experiment- a little moment of reflection on history if you will, just a moment before we’re faced with the changing tides of this server again.

[mozartbachtoven]

Photo Above: Mozart’s Violin

Photo Below: Mozart’s Viola

The violin is more or less in its original state. It was built in Mittenwald, a community located 60 miles south of Munich, along an important trade route to Italy. It established itself as a very important center of violin making in the final decades of the 18th-century. The Mozart concert violin was most likely built by a member of the violin-making family Klotz, and was built in 1700 or a bit later. The Mozarteum Foundation bought it in 1956, ten years before we bought the viola. The violin is really a remarkable document of what Mozart understood of the violin sound—[it] really gives a big picture and a very good impression of how he felt the sound and how he heard it. It’s really in a very good and original condition.

These instruments give us a good idea of what sound Mozart himself had in mind when writing, let's say, his violin concertos and Sinfonia Concertante. There were no loud, romantic sounds: Everything was incredibly intimate. For one, because the instruments were small and strung with gut strings, and for two, Mozart would not have played in large halls, ironically, where many performances of his music are being played today. Actually, *Mozart refused to perform on his violin in public at all, which might have been due to his not practicing the instrument, which his dad scolded him in letters for. He premiered his Sinfonia Concertante on viola*

The earliest evidence for the violin is a certificate by Marie Trestl from August 1842, stating that the instrument had been acquired by her father, Leopold Trestl in 1820 from Mozart’s sister, Nannerl Mozart. Around 1879 the instrument was in the personal possession of Adalbert Lenk—he was a violin professor at the Mozarteumand the violin remained in private possession until it was acquired by the Mozarteum Foundation in 1956—we bought it from the family of Josef Brandner. The fact that the instrument was not modernized in the 19th century makes it clear that it was regarded as a relic early on. So it is really in a very very good shape. And if you come to the Boston Early Music Festival where we will present the instruments, we will have a baroque violinist, Amandine Beyer, and you really can hear it in a fantastic situation, in a trio, and it gives a great impression of the sound of Mozart’s time.

These instruments get us much closer to hearing what Mozart himself had in his head when he was composing, though until somebody invents a time machine, that's about as far as we are going to get.

Maybe a working flux capacitor is somewhere in the near future ..👨‍🔬?

The viola has a remarkably warm tone, but has probably lost some of its former volume as a result of the adaptation of its size, but it’s a really very nice-sounding instrument. It was reduced to standard size during the 19th-century by cutting off the margins of the top and back considerably. It is assumed that the instrument originally was at least 13mm longer. At the same time, the original scroll was replaced by a new one taken from a German or Austrian instrument.

Hear Mozart’s instruments played here 👇

Live in concert in the WGBH Fraser

Performance Studio, violinist Daniel Stepner and violist Anne Black get a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to perform a work by Mozart on instruments that the composer himself owned and played. From Classical New England's "Mozart Comes to America" special, produced in conjunction with the Salzburg Mozarteum Foundation (owner of the instruments) and the Boston Early Music Festival, Stepner and Black play the Finale of the Duo in G, K. 423, by Mozart.

🎶 🎻 🎵 🎻 🎶 🎻 🎵 🎻 🎶 🎻 🎵

[idontwanttospoiltheparty]

"The world going by my window" – A Lennon-McCartney Microcosm

Or: Over-analysing the melodic and harmonic structure of one line from The Beatles' "I'm Only Sleeping" (1966) and discussing how it reflects the very essences of the musicians and people singing it.

Preface: The following is an extremely self-indulgent deep-dive into one of my favourite moments of harmonization in musical history. It is both a relatively music theory-heavy analysis (though relevant concepts are explained with visual as well as audio examples) as well as a free-form riffing on what distinguishes Lennon from McCartney as a composer on the one hand, and what distinguishes Paul from John as a person on the other. Of course, like the duo's melodies intertwine, so did their lives.

DISCLAIMER: I think it's lovely how the music reflects their lives but that doesn't mean I think the music was created because it reflects their live (irrespective of artistic intention).

1. Homesy John and His Strange Close Melodies

"Keeping an eye on the world going by my window" forms the beginning of the bridge of "I'm Only Sleeping". John, the main songwriter and lead vocalist of the track, sings a tight melody, which is sprinkled with several dissonances.

For those who don't know, dissonances occur either due to a dissonant interval – that is, when two or more notes that don't "go together" are played at once – or when a note that is not part of the current key is played.

In this example, the dissonant interval (on the left) is a second, that is the two simultaneously played notes are very close – so close that stacking their notes on sheet music becomes awkward, as seen above. The dissonant note is a B note (on the right), which has been elevated up a half-step from B♭ (in the middle), through usage of the ♮ symbol, preceding the note. B is not part of the usual 7 notes of the key, and thus adds a feeling of displacement within this harmonic context. You can listen to the interval as well as the transition from B♭ to B in the following file and notice the sense of discord these note combinations tend to invoke in a listener.

Now, back to John's melody:

Just looking at the score, we can see how close together John keeps everything; there are no larger jumps. He favours small intervals, even using dissonances to reduce the distance his voice has to travel to a minimum. The dissonances give a feeling of strangeness to the overall melody.*

*(arguably it isn't that strange, since he is following a blues scale, which includes notes considered "dissonant" in classical music theory; that being said I would argue that the frequency of the note-usage in this particular line is still of note in the context of this song and The Beatles' general discography.)

This is, in my opinion, one of the staples of John's melodies. Think of the intro to If I Fell, or even the siren-inspired wail of the I Am The Walrus verses. These are all close melodies that have at least somewhat dissonant qualities.

It is also an interesting reflection of him and his mid-60s situation. With his early-twenties behind him, John was known to have become more reclusive during this time; going out less often, preferring the comfort of his private home. Simultaneously, his interests became more eccentric and he began finding it more difficult to relate to "ordinary" people, for reasons ranging from disillusionment with society as a whole to mental health and addiction issues. Just like his melodic lines, he built a strange surreal world for himself, without stepping too far out his comfort zone.

2. Adventurous Paul and his Warm Leaps

"Keeping an eye on the world going by my window" is also the moment in the song where Paul, who up until this point was a mere co-background vocalist, is briefly promoted to co-lead. For the first part of the line – up until the word "world" – he joins John in unison, before breaking off to find his way to the highest note of "I'm Only Sleeping".

Unlike John's melody, Paul's unique part is much warmer and features no dissonances. This doesn't make it less complex though; for one, it covers a range that is two half-steps wider than John's melody and features the largest interval jump: a perfect fourth ("my win-[dow]").

Paul's songwriting is known for its wide tonal palette, his outstanding vocal range making melodic climbs and leaps second nature to him when compositing. At the same time, his tunes have over the years, it seems, almost been faulted for how intrinsically pleasing they are to the ear.

This, in turn, contains traces of Paul's personality; a constant thirst for life, a great skill of adaptability, an ambition that verges on destructive over-zealousness – he has risen too high, where no one can follow, perhaps inadvertently left someone behind. Yet, through it all, he maintains a pleasant sweet nature.

3. (Never) The Twain Shall Meet

Both of these aforementioned melodic lines combine to form a whole in the song (note that because they begin in unison at first only one note is played at a time – that's how pianos work sadly :-( ):

Now before we take a closer look at what happens in the score when these two melodies are united, I'm gonna need to give some background on harmonic arrangement.

Typically, when harmonizing, the most common interval between two melodies is a third (minor or major). The third is considered to be a very pleasant-sounding interval; the notes are as close to each other as possible without sounding dissonant and overall the tone is warm.

See above two melodies set exactly a third apart at each note. It's an adaptation of a Mozart piece I played a few years ago and can be listened here:

The second most typical interval for harmonies is the perfect fifth. It's a bit more "hollow"-sounding, one might say, less warm generally, but does not, as such, sound "wrong" to the Western ear.

(asterisk elaborated further down)

The above sequence can be heard here:

You may be wondering why the two notes in the middle are not a fifth a part. This is because, for hundreds of years, Western music theoreticians have discouraged the use of parallel fifths. This is when two melodic lines maintain a perfect fifth interval between each other over multiple consecutive notes. It's considered to have a harsh and slightly strange sound, and also dilutes the wanted distinction between both melodies.

Here's the same arrangement as above, only this time utilizing parallel fifths.

Again, an audio example – however, this may not sound especially harsh or strange to an untrained ear. (Just know that if Johann Sebastian Bach saw any of this, he would tear the score to pieces!)

Now with all this acquired knowledge, how do the John and Paul's individual melodies in fact form a whole?

(grey highlight denotes unison)

Look at that.

Paul, once mirroring his partner flawlessly, suddenly stubbornly refusing to follow John – whether it be to Surrey, Greece or that natural D-note. Instead, he lingers on the E♭ for a few more beats, as if contemplating. John, on the other hand, repeats the first half's walk-down, marinading in his strange claustrophobic world. Together, they create a dissonant second, two notes in a row, a disturbance.

Then, Paul jumps, and they are both singing in opposite directions; Paul upward and John downward. Only suddenly, it's almost like they've created a healthy distance, a perfect fifth apart.

Next, they start moving in tandem again, both rising, utilizing a dreaded parallel fifth. But it works here – and, notably, sounds a lot better in the song than on my piano recording. As mentioned, one of the problems with parallel fifths is that they keep the melodic lines too similar; however, these lines are not being played by perfectly tuned instruments. These are two men with voices sometimes so distinct from each other, they're described as polar opposites. They bend their notes and the rules of composition to create an otherworldly beauty. The harmonies seem to accentuate the contrast between their vocal styles, but this doesn't worsen the sound in the least. Instead, it seems that it is in their opposite nature that they find each other.

And then, as if coming down from a high, Paul jumps down to join John, a beautiful, warm third above him.

They are one; they are so close they bring out the worst in each other; they drive each other apart; they reach for each other even when distant; and then, when all is said and done, they fall back together in the end.

To finish off I recorded a slower version of the harmony. Come bask in the infinite glory of every single note with me!

"Keeping an eye on the world going by my window."

[petthebunfluff]

TI GOT A COMPLETE REDESIGN LETS GO!!!!

okay!! first form is his original appearance in his universe (underchestra), second form is when he first glitched and third form is after he was rescued by ink keep reading for more info on drawing him and his lore!!!!

likes do nothing so please REPOST

LORE SECTION

about ti

ti was just a normal sans who lived in underchestra, a universe where all monsters were intertwined by music. ti mainly plays the trombone, but has also learned to play the flute. his personality is similar to classic, but he has social anxiety and tends to be more secluded because of it.

about underchestra

it's an au where all monsters share a passion for music. most monsters play instruments typically found in orchestras. here's what the characters will play so far (i still need to decide the rest):

frisk: flute (uses it as a weapon in genocide. can be used as gun or dart shooter)

sans: trombone (secondarily, flute. learned from frisk)

papyrus: trumpet

toriel: harp

asgore: tuba

ti's lore

on a random day, ti was kidnapped by error. frisk managed to tag along with him. while they were in the anti-void, ti's creator gave up. his universe was being destroyed. core frisk managed to get everyone to safety, but noticed their absence.

frisk and ti glitched the anti-void. a horrible screaming noise could be heard, not just coming from them, but their code. the anti-void turned blue.

error did not expect that. he instantly let his strings go off him, in disbelief. the noise was as if their code spoke to him, as if they were alike.

core soon managed to arrive with an ally: ink. ink rescued ti and frisk from the anti-void, leaving error in a semi-glitched domain. the anti-void would soon go back to normal.

ink helped core take care of ti, as he found him to be very interesting. over the next few days, ti's glitches would reduce to a something he could live with without being in complete agony. frisk managed to recover with minor errors, due to not interacting with error directly.

ink gave ti new and funky clothes: pants, sneakers and a small cape. at the time, ti didn't have a name... he was only sans. ink was very fascinated by ti, and when he learned ti could play the flute, he gave him one. due to the nature of it being ink's flute and to his glitches, it made him able to travel the multiverse. he soon got to be known as flutist sans (ti for short), for traveling through aus with his flute.

INFO SECTION

for everyone who wants to draw him

both second and third form have the incorrect DOS version BSoD image overlaid over them second form uses burn on 50-60% and third form uses screen on 20-30% second form uses the same incorrect DOS version BSoD image for his eyes, but with a filter that makes it look like the blue is darker on the second and third form, the amount of chromatic aberration is up to you, just keep in mind that the second form has more chromatic aberration than the third

fun references i put on him

the 0x0000007B text on him refers to the (INACCESSIBLE_BOOT_DEVICE), which means the system is unable to boot from the hard drive,,, which would fit on his lore since his au was abandoned while he was in the anti-void, leaving him with an unaccessible path to his au (which would be the equivalent to a hard drive)

[positivelybeastly]

First question, what year was Hank born? Second question how might the events going on in our world have affected the characterization of Hank? Beyond the 90s incarnation of the character might make a post about this later…

So, asking for a set birth year for a comic book character is a bad idea, because with very few exceptions, they don't exist. For example, Google tells us that Captain America was born on the 4th of July, 1920.

Or maybe he wasn't? Apparently that got retconned and it isn't 4th of July, but it was 1920? Already we run into problems. COMIC BOOKS.

Outside of very specific characters, they just don't have birth years or birth dates, they exist within the Marvel sliding timescale. If you're not familiar with the sliding timescale, the basic conceit is this:

Modern Marvel comics began in 1961 with Fantastic Four #1. This is essentially the start of the modern Marvel era, and every other superhero group is contextualised in relation to this, pretty much. The Avengers were formed maybe six months, a year later, the X-Men not long after that.

For every 3-5 years that passes outside of comics, 1 year passes inside of comics. E.g. Fantastic Four #1 took place either 13 or 21 years ago, or somewhere in between, it's not an exact science.

As for Hank specifically, well . . .

October, 1983, was contemporary to Hank saying this.

That plot took place in a comic book from 1974, nearly ten years before this, and yet Hank says it's just "a few years ago." So time is passing, but slowly. Hank here is explicitly in his early 20s, maybe 22-23, but the Hank we saw in this week's X-Force #50 was not 40 years older than him. So, how to make it all make sense?

A lot of headcanon and kind of inferring based on contextual hints. Hank is depicted as being roughly 17-18 when he joins the original X-Men, given that he's stated in dialogue to be the oldest of the team, and seems to have been on the verge of graduating high school when his normal human life was interrupted. So, now you just work backwards.

If Hank was 17-18 when the original X-Men were formed, and it's been 21 years since then (referring back to the sliding timescale), then it stands to reason X-Force Beast is 37-38. If he's 38 in our current year of 2024, then logically, he would have been born in . . .

1986!

Which is what I've been running with for as long as I've been writing him. It isn't quite compatible with stuff like this, which is very obviously written in the 60s and set in the 60s, and which explicitly positions Hank as an Atomic Age hero, with radiation based origins and a super scientist pedigree . . .

But eh. We move.

As to the second part of your question

. . . Ooohhhhh boy.

Um.

There's a lot? And I hate to bring it all back to 9/11 and the War on Terror, but it's kind of all about 9/11 and the War on Terror?

Media about terrorism, security, threats to mankind, all looked very different pre-September 11th, 2001. Go back and watch Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, and see how Kira Nerys, a character who is explicitly called a terrorist in dialogue, is treated for her actions. She's positioned more as a World War II resistance fighter than anything else. If that show were made now, she would be an intensely different character, because the American cultural and media consciousness has never recovered from that day.

If you want to read more about this, there's quite a lot of academic discourse on how this has all changed. Here's a decent start.

But specifically Hank? Well, the X-Men have had their own 9/11. Multiple times. The Genoshan genocide, as depicted in New X-Men #116, actually just a few months before 9/11. It's entirely possible that this entire storyline might not have been made if it had been written after.

The Xavier Institute bus bombing.

The Decimation.

The X-Men became a beleaguered minority, besieged on all sides, reduced to the island of Utopia, just 198 mutants and falling. Cyclops explicitly became far more ruthless, willing to ally with former adversaries and use kill tactics to get the job done, and you could see his portrayal, the infamous #Cyclops Was Right movement, gaining a lot of steam during this era. People really like this Cyclops.

And where's Hank in this? Well.

He's the moral counterpoint.

People don't like to acknowledge this, and I feel like there might be a degree of cultural difference going on here, but Hank is correct. I feel like it's not even controversial to say that kill teams are bad. Right?

But people hate Hank for this. They think he's a whiny little bitch who won't and can't help, who runs out on his people, who prioritises his morals over being there for the X-Men. People legitimately think this of him.

Hank is the left wing, conscientious objector and anti-war viewpoint. So, naturally, there's a tendency to look upon him as a whiny little bitch. Just look at how shows like 24 contextualise that kind of moral viewpoint.

I do feel like the writers of this era wanted people to at least question who was right, between Hank and Scott, but the readers pretty much unanimously fell on Scott's side, because even as Scott started to use morally corrupt tactics . . .

He wasn't doing it for America, bullying small countries out of their oil in the name of democracy. He was doing it for a marginalised minority metaphor, fighting comic book supervillains, which is simpler, easier to root for. He had to use those tactics, you understand. He was fighting monsters! He was fighting the good fight.

Is 00s era X-Men War on Terror propaganda? I don't know. I'm not a political scholar, though I do have a B.A. in History. Interesting how the fandom seems to view this ideological conflict, though.

Anyway, time moves on, and then something starts to creep into Hank's character. Something that inevitably happens to characters like him.

Anti-intellectualism.

No longer is Hank the moral counterpoint, now he's the intellectual who will lead us all to ruin because he's smarter than he is wise, because he's an idiot with no impulse control.

This characterisation is wholly incorrect and runs contrary to the fact that Hank learned his lesson about unethical experimentation practises in the 70s, in an incident that only harmed him, but whatever. It doesn't matter at this point, does it?

Only people with real world experience, who are level headed, who aren't eggheads, can solve the real problems of the day. People like, uh.

Hmm.

Who does have the solution to the problems of the day?

Ah, I see.

We just forgive him for all the heinous shit he did on Utopia, huh?

All that stuff he did, the releasing bioweapons, the kill teams, that was fine, because he did it to the right people.

Well, that's all right, then.

Mmm-hmm. So much better than the egghead. Look at him in the corner, fumbling around, making more problems than he solves. What a motherfucker.

So, yes, let's talk about American anti-intellectualism.

I don't necessarily think Bendis is anti-intellectual. But I do think he spends a lot of time across multiple comics criticising Beast and valorising Cyclops, considering the worst thing Beast had done up until that point, vandalising the space-time continuum to get the O5 back into the present, was done explicitly so Bendis could play with X-Men with only 8 issues of continuity to keep straight.

But anything Cyclops did? All that X-Force stuff? Ehh. Don't worry about it. The only crime we care about is the death of Charles Xavier, for which Scott was possessed, so we can't make a moral judgement.

It's a whole ass topic, and a lot to get into, but I genuinely do think that Hank is one of those characters who especially suffers when written by a writer who doesn't trust vaunted intellectuals, because he's certainly not going to fucking flourish, is he?

And then it all comes full circle.

Ben Percy, enter the ring.

Wolverine, the unequivocal hero of X-Force. Beast, the unequivocal villain of the series. The heart vs. the head. The man of action vs. the intellectual. The rugged thug vs. the fancy pants necessary bastard.

It's the same thing, just more extreme, really. I think X-Force is meant to be a critique of the CIA? If so, it's an extremely bad one, considering it ends on this note.

Ah yes. Our heroes. The CIA.

I'm gonna quote the frankly incredible @brw here because they put it way better than I could on this point:

"This is genuinely a larger problem I have with Krakoa, is that rather than explore the culpability and complicity of all the characters involved in not just the creation, but the active maintenance and survival of what is, categorically, an eugenicist, oligarchy ethnostate, we instead act as if Krakoa would have been fine if not for Evil Hank/Evil Moira/Evil Sinister for ruining it all for the rest of us.

Because are Sage or Logan ever properly thought to be bad people for standing by as long as they did? It isn't even that X-Force are the people who do the dirty stuff–it's Hank that does that, and the rest of the character get to keep their hands relatively clean, at least narratively. They're sympathetic, or understandable.

Hank is positioned as this demon in the shadows ready to snatch you up and kill you which is a weird decision to make with what you describe as the CIA.

The CIA isn't evil because evil people are in charge of it, the CIA is evil because it is a fundamentally evil institution based off evil systems! Benjamin, you can't write mutant CIA if your closing statement is how awesome the mutant CIA is, and it's a shame about that one evil blue guy that ruined everything for everyone."

Good thing we got rid of that Beast guy! What a fucker, right? Nasty, gross, intellectual pustule he was, with his oily words and grossness. Look at him, reading books. Sage is fine, though, because she doesn't read books. I mean, she's quantifiably grossly incompetent in this series, but we like her better than Beast, so it's fine.

Beast, from the 2000s era onward, is a very political character. It's just a shame that a lot of comic book writers tend to be grossly ill-informed when it comes to actual politics, capable of only surface level hot takes like CIA bad or kill teams good, actually, because now we've gone from 'Beast is the left wing conscientious objector' to 'Beast is the literal anti-Christ,' and I don't really like what that implies about what we think of the former.

But eh. I'm just a writer.