#research guys. the internet exists for a reason

[thekindlygrammarfairy]

The only thing that seems like it'd work is fixing public education. I remember when I was maybe 12, my class was taken into the library and taught basic internet searching skills, how to spot unreliable websites, and so on. None of it was new to me, but having it presented in an official capacity made me think about it more often and harder from then on.

I had assignments that revolved around research, which taught me a bunch of stuff about how to find good information.

Hell, even the ability to type at a reasonable pace is something I picked up from school.

So, what schools are like these days is going to be speculation, I don't know what's up, and it's going to vary wildly from place to place. But here's my best guess:

Schools, at least in the US, have been slowly bleeding talent, money, and respect since the start of the pandemic. Essentially, kids are left to self-educate. I like teaching myself stuff via online tutorials and stuff, but that only works because I have the necessary self-discipline and underlying skills. It seems like in most schools, everyone is in survival mode, and a lot of stuf that would have been taught because it's "The Right Thing To Do" is hitting the cutting room floor. Nevada's elections are having an issue with young people not being able to sign their names, for example, because we cut cursive teaching. I don't think of cursive as particularly useful, but some things are written in it - and being able to sign your name is of obvious importance.

Services like Instagram and Tiktok are appealing because of their ease of use, and the network effect, and their ability to direct you into a hyperspecific niche. But the time and energy spent in these apps and services (having tried both, they can be incredibly overwhelming) is not spent socializing in a real, tangible community. On Tiktok specifically, it seems like it's actively harder to do something as basic as learn a creator's name. For example, Amaury Guichon's name is on every one of his tiktoks, but everyone calls him Chocolate Guy. This is not true of any other creator I'm aware of. The experiences are smaller and less lasting than any other media, but are the most readily accessible.

The "I don't want to pay money for internet anything" culture is strong, with my generation and younger. Even if quality stuff is out there, we don't want it, because it's behind a 99 cent paywall. Part of this is the soft age-wall for getting a credit card, but part of this is just stubbornness. New York Times and Washington Post, both respected and reasonably-truthful newspapers, are paywalled, but Conservative """Newspaper""" du jour are free. When I see a paywall on a newspaper, my first instinct is to get around it, not pay up. A few outlets, like the Guardian, have started working with, rather than against, this behavior, but they're in the minority. The impact of this attitude on creators on platforms like YouTube and Twitch is a whole other discussion, there's some good and some bad. But "old media" (books, movies, TV, etc.) is suffering - and people who should be experiencing that stuff are suffering too.

Third spaces for young people basically don't exist. Why exactly this is is a long conversation, but the result is that everyone's on their dang phones, even if they'd get along really well with someone who lives half a block away.

Because of all of the above, patience is not a virtue most of us have. On the internet, anything you don't like can be out of your face in seconds, and there's always an infinite void of content to gorge yourself on. In meatspace, not so much. I don't think the "zoomer attention span" is real, I think it's more along the lines of Gen Z have not been taught to tolerate mild discomfort very well. The effects of this on social organizing patterns is... bad.

The result of all of this is that young people (and I'm part of this) don't have solid social ground to stand on. Everything is online platforms and services that are fickle, fragile, and can't be negotiated with. Finding friends is difficult, and everyone's social skills are atrophied to some extent.

How do we fix this? Fund schools, make spaces for young people to hang out in, and find tunnels out of doomscrolls. I've seen a promising trend in YouTube shorts of people linking longer related videos to pull people out of that infinite scroll.

And tumblr is a good example of this. We have a mix of shallow and deep content, and a culture that's not flexible, malleable, and disposable in the same way that TikTok's is.

I am concerned for gen z. Like I don't think they're doing okay. I think algorithms and a systematic denial of easy access to facts because of Internet enshittification has made them unbelievably miserable with very little sense of how warped their online experience is. Idk how to fix it.

[pepper-steam-milkshake]

me when a pyramid scheme tries to get me for $20 base rate when they used to do $25: “wow the scammers dont think im worth the extra five dollars”

reminder to ALWAYS LOOK INTO deals that sound too good to be true. also they didnt have the company name until the third paragraph of the letter which is a red flag

[shmreduplication]

decided to make a separate post rather than make a v long tangent on this post (which is good and you should read it, tldr is an AI model was supposed to identify wolves vs dogs but every picture of a wolf was in a snowy landscape so the AI's logic was snow=>that animal is a wolf not a dog)

I feel I'm saying this constantly that the phrase "garbage in, garbage out" needs to become MUCH more common because imo it needs to be used in literally every conversation about AI

here's the wikipedia article about it, note that even CHARLES BABBAGE (v important guy in computer history, if you know Alan Turing's name because of computer history then you should learn Charles Babbage's name next) was aware of the phenomena. I think it's interesting that the history of the phrase is from computer history because it's really more of a statistics problem than a computer problem. AI is a statistics+computer problem so I guess it doesn't really matter

anyway the point is if you have bad data then you can only produce bad data analysis. Garbage [data] in, garbage [data analysis and decision-making that's based on it] out. Pictures of wolves in snow in, snow used as the determining factor between wolves and dogs out. Pictures of sheep in fields in, every field labeled as having sheep out. Pictures of pornography in, flagging desert and sandy landscapes as porn out. Racist policing in, racist policing out.

people who make AI models that pull indiscriminately from the entire internet think they're avoiding GIGO because surely the internet has the entirety of human knowledge contained in it? Obviously not, for two reasons: 1. human knowledge contains the information that wolves exist regardless of proximity to snow but that fact is so obvious and benign that it is possible it was never interesting enough for anyone to put onto the internet before this very post, and 2. it only takes one snowless picture of a wolf on the internet to fulfill the idear of "all human knowledge is on the internet" and those (apparently v few) pictures can be completely overwhelmed by the (apparently abundant) pictures of wolves in snow to the point that an AI trained from the internet will still prioritize snow in determining if a picture has a wolf or dog. This is a lot of words to say that the internet is garbage so anything trained from it will only produce garbage

anyway uh. those articles are from 2018 and 2020 so extremely outdated as far as tech news goes so thanks OP for letting me know that this specific kind of landscape-determines-animal kind of AI silliness is still happening because the sheep-fields thing is one of my favorite tech stories and i've told a lot of people about it

oh wait one more thing: Psychology has a related concept, WEIRD Bias, which is about how the majority of psych research is done on people who are Western, Educated, Industrialized, Rich, and Democratic so we can't assume conclusions made from that research is applicable to people who fall outside of that acronym. Not exactly a GIGO situation because the conclusions can still be accurate but it definitely still becomes "garbage out" if the diversity of the sample population is not considered and the conclusions are applied universally

[esamastation]

Shizuroth, part seven

-

First things first: a proper, decent and hopefully fully chest-covering shirt.

Sephiroth has them, and none of them fit. He has, literally, outgrown all his shirts, turtlenecks and jackets, and judging by the looks of it, he'd never bothered to get new ones. Even the stretchiest of them pops stitches when trying to accommodate his shoulders and chest! It's ridiculous! What, was he a little string bean of a man and then burst into a beefcake overnight?

Ignoring the influx of new messages from the mailing lists Genesis subscribed Sephiroth's phone to, he investigates the shops' menu with more detail. It soon proves he definitely has access to clothing stores and he definitely has the money to use them. He also has the means to just requisition a free new uniform from SOLDIER any time he wants, but apparently pressing a few buttons was too much work for the man! Better have your chest out and about than bother with the barest minimum of effort for the sake of personal comfort or public decency, apparently!

So, add laziness to the reasons why Sephiroth's outfit is like that. 

…Or maybe, possibly, some form of executive dysfunction? It might explain the room he's supposed to be living in, which is barely fitting for existing in. On a more thorough look, it really looks like everything was just placed just wherever with no care to how it looked or what the vibes were. It has a very that's good enough feel to it.

Except it isn't! It's awful! The place is barely better than a first year college dorm room! Not that he'd know what those look like, he had his own apartment by then - but still! You can do better, surely!

No, wait, actually - how old is Sephiroth right now?

The bathroom mirror isn't very helpful. Sephiroth has that same androgynous ageless look that Shen Qingqiu has - just much beefier and sorta monochrome. In xianxia terms he could be anywhere from twenty to two thousand, hah! Though from what he recalls of the game, weren't everyone kinda young? Old for JRPG, what with only one teenager in the main character group! But still way under thirties. And this is way before that….

Ahhh he misses fan wikis! He needs thoroughly documented timelines! He needs a birthday! He needs a character ID - he needs -!

Actually, Sephiroth should have some kind of ID, being an evil megacorp employee, right? An employee card, or what a SOLDIER might have. Dog tags?

Quickly he begins rummaging about his person again.

There are no dog tags, but Sephiroth does have a wallet and a bunch of cards. Including a Shinra Employee, Personnel Medical Information, Shinra Medical Research and Shinra Military cards. And Sephiroth is twenty-one, apparently. 

That's… hmm.

Yeah, he has no idea what to do with that - but it explains the awful dorm room vibe! Clearly the guy didn't have experience with how to live. And who knows how long Sephiroth has been living on his own anyway, and where and how he lived before. Plus, with his schedule, he can't be spending much time at all in this room. None, apparently, if he could manage it. And no wonder! The place is soul-suckingly awful.

Well, that's not how he's going to live, that's for sure. The shirtless life is not for him!

Hmm… ordering clothes and stuff without even seeing what they look like first, though…

Snapping the flip phone shut he goes to investigate the laptop, hoping that maybe they did figure out web sites after all. It turns on with gratifying swiftness and reveals itself to be a Windows knock-off from the nineties or something like that - with just about the same level of security. It doesn't even ask for a password! Convenient.

In a glowing example of video game redundancy created by developers being lazy, it has the exact same apps as his phone, just with a bigger keyboard. No internet, no websites, no games, nothing. And judging by the single folder on the computer, the only thing Sephiroth ever does with the thing is write mission reports. How sad.

It almost makes him miss Zhongdian.

The shops' menu comes with pictures, thankfully, so that's something - and it's conveniently hooked straight to his wallet, so all he has to do is  press buy and the thing is done, just like that! Videogame shop mechanics for you. He has no idea how the purchases would be delivered, maybe he will have to go pick them up at the building lobby or something, but whatever! He needs shirts, curtains, carpets, a couch, and a proper damn tea set to start with! And maybe, if he really goes crazy with it, some house plants!

Guessing at his size by using the tags on the shirts that don't fit, he puts in some dozen clothing orders for several different sizes to start with - and it barely makes a dent in his wallet. Then he scrolls through the available furniture in another store until he finds a couch big enough for Sephiroth's huge ass body to actually lie down on. Tea set is harder, there isn't one that matches his criteria, but he finds a home decor shop that sells teapots and sets of cups that will do for a start. Carpets are harder - who the hell decided that black ceiling was good for anyone - and ultimately he ends up choosing dark forest green.

And then he finds out that there are no live plants to be had in Midgar. There's a shop that sells life-like plastic replicas… but just looking at it makes him feel so sad. Because, yeah, right, he forgot.

Life-sucking megacorporation. Literally. The whole city is surrounded by dead desert, and you probably just can't keep houseplants alive in Midgar. Because Shinra is literally draining the lifeblood of the planet, and only the tragic heroine with mysterious lineage can make the flowers grow.

And he's her ultimate, poisonous antithesis. Yeah.

Depressing.

Leaning away from the disappointment of a computer, he heaves out a long sigh from Sephiroth's deep chest. The idea that he might never see living bamboo again makes him feel vaguely nauseous, and with a grimace he rests a hand on Sephiroth's washboard abs.

Energy sits like an undigested mass in his guts. He's all but bloated with the lifeblood of the planet. Ugh. He should really do… something with it, huh?

And then the awful Feng Shui hits him in the face.

"Ah," he mutters unhappily, eyeing the room. He can almost see the energy pooling in the middle, stagnating. That can't have been helping with Sephiroth's situation. He can't do much about it yet, not without more furniture - but he can at least move the damn bed and redirect the energy elsewhere!

Which he does.

By nearly flipping the metal frame of a probably really heavy bed over and almost throwing it into the wall.

Ah.

Right.

Super SOLDIER.

Tentatively he crouches down and tests his strength on the bed. By very carefully picking it up. Which is something he can do, apparently! It doesn't even strain him - he just puts his hands under it and lifts. Just like that. Amazing.

… Is this what it's like to be Liu Qingge? Wow.

He kinda feels sad for Liu-shidi now, for never getting to see - and fight - someone like Sephiroth. Poor Liu-shidi, always looking for a strong opponent to test himself against, always asking his useless shixiong for a spar, and here is his useless shixiong, in one of the greatest fighters in video game history - utterly out of reach! What a shame!

He arranges the bed away from the doorways and sits down on it with a heavy sigh.

Oh, but he will really miss Liu-shidi. The knowledge that he will never see him, or anyone else from Cang Qiong Mountain Sect again… it really is a shame. He didn't get to do enough in that life - but at least Liu Qingge survived! Hopefully… hopefully his life will be good. Hopefully Luo Binghe would forgive Cang Qiong Mountain Sect for their involvement with Shen Qingqiu, and they'd all live long, good lives�� without him.

Ah, probably best not to dwell on it. He'd got a new transmigration, a new body and a new life to adjust to! New villain to embody - and a new doom to circumvent.

Kicking off his boots, he puts Sephiroth's feet up and into a lotus position, draws a breath and begins to see what he can do for the man's internal energies. Can cultivation practices be applied to Final Fantasy VII Mako and magic?

Time to find out.

[rat-n-atty]

MEET MY SMG4 OC CLOVE!

(fucking finally)

(Also a bit of a redesign since I kinda changed my style a bit lmao)

Meet Clove! (Enid) a 22-year-old "mad" scientist who has made the poor decision to be Smg3's assistant but who exactly is she? What's her lore? What are her goals? Why is she an Ex-villain? and all the other amazing questions you might have (or don't idk) will all be answered here!...hopefully...

"Enid Gadd" (Backstory)

Enid comes from a long line of talented and successful scientists (like her grandpa, E. Gadd more on that in a bit) but she was always seen as a black sheep of the family in short.

Ever since Enid could even talk, she has always aspired to be a great scientist just like her family but it seemed like everything she did, it meant nothing so she became E. Gadd's student when she was young (considering she was practically raised by the guy damn)

It seemed like everything Enid did though was still not enough for her parents so she said "fuck it" and decided to become someone else's assistant in hopes that she could be a better scientist than all of them and that is when Smg3 comes in...

"Clove" (assistant days)

Now, Bowser was a terrible assistant so Smg3 decided to get a new one instead so one day while Clove was just walking around the Mushroom Kingdom city; she saw a purple Mario recolor next to a stand on the side of the street with a sign that said LOOKING FOR AN EVIL ASSISTANT (WILL NOT GIVE VACATION DAYS) (why would look for one in broad daylight you dumb bitc-)

So she took her shot, lied to 3 about being "inherently evil" but she also added that she was pretty good at making bombs (which was also a half-truth) so she became Smg3's assistant from that day on.

She didn't really know what to expect at first and she thought that Smg3's main goal of being a villain at the time was kinda dumb but it was better than home so she stayed and she stayed for a long time.

She eventually became evil and she got better at her inventions and her scientific studies all for the goal of ruling the world with Smg3 and telling her entire family (not including E. Gadd) to suck it...which now brings us to the YouTube Arc...

YouTube Arc (this is where shit goes down)

Smg3 and Clove had just started on their goals of making Snitch Productions but after Smg4 destroyed it all for no damn reason (like wtf man?) they wanted revenge and they wanted it bad (Smg3 more so than Clove)

So they came up with the anti-cast and got to work but after that failed Clove said "fuck it" and started her own projects again but she found out about the YouTube remote while she was doing her research ("The World's Cursed and definitely Powerful Objects that would destroy the world if laid on the wrong hands" (great title I know) ) So they all came up with the plan to steal it.

Things had started to take a toll after they had successfully stolen the Remote per sae because now Smg3 was drunk with power to the point where it was kinda concerning Clove a bit and this is the part where Clove found out Smg3's true intentions of using the YouTube remote; It was so much more than taking over Smg4's channel, it was deleting Smg4's and his crew's entire existence. Clove knew it was too much, even for 3 but she kept quiet about her conflicting feelings (but put a pin in this later )

A big-time skip later where Clove had actually caught Mario trying to steal Smg3's phone (to hopefully get everyone out of the graveyard, you probably watched the Arc lmao) but she betrayed Smg3 by giving it to Mario anyway and freeing the entire cast out of the internet graveyard in order to stop Smg3; Everyone was confused why but they didn't ask.

WOTFI 2020 (redemption arc begins)

The final battle was here and after Clove was revealed to be a traitor and helping the Smg4 crew, it's no wonder that Smg3 lost but he was never expecting his assistant, no...someone closest to him like a friend to betray him like that.

Since Clove was the only one who really knew how to work the remote (and she was the one who had it in her hands at the time) she was the one who sent Smg3 to the Internet Graveyard for the greater good of everybody else but now that 3 was gone...she felt like she had no meaning...no purpose anymore...

After she had gotten forgiveness from Susan, Smg4 offered Clove to stay with the rest of them at the castle but she declined and said she would just lock herself up in her lab instead.

Clove's lore goes on for ages...so I'll have to make a part 2

BI GUYS!

(update: there is a part 2)

[professorcalculusstanaccount]

i absolutely lost my mind discovering your blog this morning. i absolutely adore your style and your story/concept ideas SO MUCH. i love your love for chang and i adore how you draw him and just the love and care you have for the characters and their stories, their history-just everything. oh my god your art and animations are incredible thank you so much you made me so happy this morning 😭😭😭

Thank you very much! I just feel like the Tintin universe has a lot of potential for deep dives. Herge often drew inspiration from the real world so that naturally brings a lot of richness - I'm just lucky to have the privilege of having nearly a century of hindsight and an Internet connection for my research!

also fun fact, I draw Chang the way I do for multiple reasons. I ramble so here's a Read More:

The first is just to update how Chinese people are depicted in this style - I'm Chinese myself (British Chinese) and while I do appreciate Chang's original appearance was basically modelled off a real guy and Herge really did try his best with depicting Chinese people sensitively I wouldn't be comfortable sticking exactly to those original portrayals (tbh it’s mostly the eyes and the skin colour I have an issue with, I liked the weird rubberiness of early Herge!). I also would like to update how the Japanese characters were portrayed too as man those designs are viscerally uncomfortable (like those characters were villainous because they were doing imperialism, not because they're Japanese man come on)

The second is - Chang is a fucking shapeshifter. I swear he looks different in every appearance he makes in official materials. You're telling me these are all the same guy??

From left to right: Chang from a postage stamp that uses artwork from The Blue Lotus, the middle is from the 90s cartoon and the one on the right is from a... cheese sticker??? His nose, hair and face shapes change quite a bit

To get his design I mixed together the 90s cartoon version with the original. People have mentioned The Cheekbones Chang has in the 90s cartoon but I actually like how they give him a distinct shape, it helps differentiate his shape language from Tintin who's all round and soft.

For his young adult design I initially thought to reference Tintin in Tibet but he's so malnourished and close to death his portrayal there probably wasn't intended to represent what he's normally like. I just took my design for Chang and pushed the shapes more. I thought it would be cool for him to look pretty different when he grows up as a contrast to how static Tintin is as a character.

The third (and funniest) reason why I draw Chang the way I do is I actually look a lot like Blue Lotus Chang to a frightening degree, like to the point where it looks like my likeness was stolen 70 years before I even existed. I do not like thinking about my physical existence! I do not want to draw myself! No thank you!! my self insert is haddock if we’re being real

[bibibbon]

Loved the idea of dabi having to coach Shig... except I can't see him helping Shig at all...they are frenemies, emphasis on the enemy part.

But jokes aside....this make me think how Izu doesn't fit in any group or in any arc. I know I started this with a silly joke but ...when it comes down to it...Izu is not important, not really. There no connection to him nor an attempt.

Shiga in MVA got an army and the entire arc felt smth fro ANOTHER MANGA. There no mention of Izu. "Oh you wanted people to talk his name in every conversation" not that, I wanted people, the villains in this case, to recognize how powerful Izu is as it seems only the villains give credit to Izu.... but it's like he doesn't exist.

Shiga got an army and does .... nothing!

Shiga got money and does.... Nothing!

What happened to Daika is glossed over. We don't even know if Izu saw what happened in Daika (by tv or internet)

And it's a pattern since day 1. Izu is not allowed to really have connections, to bond with people...to grow.

MHA is a story where the mc is sidelined in his own story for no reason and he still gets blame in the story and fandom.

Hey @mikeellee 👋

I see where you're coming from with the whole Dabi and shigaraki are enemies first and friends second but in a situation where shigaraki is well more developed and actually proves and earns his title as the league of villains leader while utilising the MVA resources I feel like he would help Dabi with his revenge.

Hmm the point you bring up about izuku is interesting for sure. To me him not fitting in or not making genuine connections with other characters feels like an unintentional writing mistakes by horikoshi.

In the earlier parts of the series it's evidently clear that shigaraki was really interested and amused by Izuku. The guy literally had a picture of izuku, watched the sports festival and went to izuku for advice (the mall scene) he also showed interest and regarded Izuku's opinion about why people listen to stain and not him. Before shigaraki got the league Izuku was the closest person he could talk to and that simply disappears after he gets the league which is weird because shigaraki doesn't ever get a proper arc that shows him and the league bonding or becoming close rather he just promises them that he won't take away things they like as long as they work for him. Shigaraki in my opinion also doesn't earn the role of leader in the league neither does he do much to earn their trust which is why his line of caring about the league felt so underwhelming to me.

In the earlier arcs izuku and shigaraki had some built up but that was sidelined and even when shigaraki had resources to conduct research on izuku and maybe even reach out he chose not to. The MVA had a lot of potential and it's a shame that horikoshi doesn't tie izuku into it especially because it's not only shigaraki that's interested in Izuku but also toga. The two of them could of looped and included Izuku and we also seem to forget that izuku strangely has a lot of parallels between the villains just in general!!

In my opinion the whole shigaraki and izuku sharing memories thing was a horrible plot point and was used to rush the build up between shig and izuku which was almost non existent at this point. One of my problems with it is that it really doesn't show much of anything from Izuku so all it did was have Izuku learn about shig and not shig also learning about izuku.

Outside of the league Izuku's relationships in general aren't really any better either in terms of development. Izuku could of had a great relationship with various characters but they were either sidelined, not developed enough or overall horribly built.

A lot of the time Izuku only receives recognition from loved ones when he does something for them as evident in the vigilante arc. Also due to the lack of academia and academic/ filler type arcs in the series there really isn't a huge bond with Izuku and the rest of 1A

[little-pondhead]

“Hey, Danny.” Sam twisted her upper body as much as she could from the trio’s puppy pile on the floor. It was mid-afternoon on a Saturday, and the trio had nothing to do except comb through old occult books and internet records for more information on the supernatural. Danny was on the bottom of the pile, laying on his stomach with both a laptop and a old red journal splayed out in front of him. Sam and Tucker were piled on top of him with their own reading materials.

Sam couldn’t see his face, but she wasn’t all surprised when Danny solved this issue by simply turning his head around all the way like an owl to look back at her. Perks of being dead. He blinked. “Yeah?”

“You know how your parents have that working theory on ghosts and obsessions?” Sam asked. Tucker peeked over the edge of the laptop, interested.

Danny nodded slowly, which was odd to see when his head was backwards.

She continued, “Well we already know that some of that is true-ghosts do have obsessions but it’s not the sole reason of their existence. Right?”

“Right.”

“So would it make sense for halfas to have an obsession?”

Danny opened his mouth, then closed it as a thought occurred to him. They all thought on it for a moment.

Tucker clicked his laptop a few times. Probably pulling up their old ‘case’ files and notes for reference. “I don’t see why they wouldn’t, but maybe it’s more subdued than a full ghost’s due to their half human nature?”

“That’s a good theory.” Sam agreed. “But what if halfas are the only one with a true obsession-something that would cause them to come back to life because of it?”

“But that defeats the purpose of the ectoplasm research.” Tucker argued. “Danny was exposed to two different elements during the accident. The thing that killed him and the thing that brought him back to life. That’s what caused the halfa evolution. Besides, if a true obsession alone managed to bring someone back to life, there’s be a lot more halfas in the world.”

Sam set down her heavy occult book, dog-earring the page. (Ghost Writer won’t like that.) “Well what about Vlad?” She countered. “That fruit loop obviously has some sort of obsession going on-maybe even more that one!”

“Guys.” Danny interrupted. “I think you’re both right and wrong.” His face was still thoughtful, staring up at the ceiling that held little paper bats on string. Which, again, was a bit unsettling since his head was still turned around. “I think I do have an obsession, maybe even more than one. But it’s not because I’m part ghost.”

“Then what’s if from?” Tucker exclaimed. “What did we miss??”

Danny gave them a tiny, fanged smirk. “You forget, I have ADHD.”

[positivelyamazonian]

I saw a post earlier saying how Kurtis was and is still cringe. Saying he was hated a lot back then. I only got into the game in 2007 so I'm not sure about his reception when the game first came out. I think it's unfair because there is so much cut-content from the game that we could have had regarding his backstory and he's actually very interesting imo.

Probably most of those who thought and said that in the past were the typical gamer and incel dudebros who felt threatened for a male character that showed agency and moved around as Lara's equal, but much more to the fact that Lara was obviously interested in him. He kinda ruined his wanking fantasies, and as you can see I don't even care to speak with these terms at this point. If people is repeating still this discourse, is because these kind of crowds and discourses regenerate and spawn like a plague again.

I had no Internet back then and I only entered into contact with TR fandom shortly after I finished TRAOD. Even if at the beginning I felt a bit of rejection towards him, by the end of the game I was already invested in him and shipping him with Lara because of Lara's reactions towards him. Then it was when I saw a lot of people expressing this alleged hate against Kurtis both in fan forums but also in videogame press... and ironically they used to coincide in this mindset - they felt furious at a male character having the chance to get Lara. We didn't use the word incel or dudebro back then but they existed already.

So even if Kurtis had the chance of coming out as a well-fleshed, fully content backed and whole backstory they would have hated him anyway. It's a matter of feeling threatened or bothered by the hot guy that has very solid chances to get the girl you kinda consider yours, just because you selected the game to enjoy a good pair of tits in the first place.

And I honestly couldn't care less about these people. I have fought them in the past, but it's to no avail and I'm too old for that shit. They don't have qualms to diminish shippers and content creating female fans for their preferences and actions and they don't mind in the slightest to brush them off as if they were bitches in heat - I've seen it in the past and I still see it -; ironically, the ones being in heat in the first place were none other than them, only towards Lara instead.

This is the place where I solidly believe most of Kurtis' hate comes from. Later it was people who preferred to ship Lara with other characters - male and female - and used the narrative of Kurtis being an abuser - per that famous Louvre scene - to disqualify him as character and accuse the shippers of supporting rape discourse. I've suffered that too. And when not, it's other fans thinking they are holier than shippers because they don't ship, and avoid discussing Kurtis and his potential relationship with Lara like one avoids the plague. This still happens.

In the end I strongly believe Kurtis never got that much hate, it's more what has been said than what actually was. If people had solid complaints about him, at most could've been for his difficult controls and the insufferable boss fight he had to endure against Boaz. Now these are reasons I can respect. You mentioned, very appropriately, his underdevelopment as character. But this is only another layer of TRAOD's doomed release as an incomplete product.

As you well said, he had such great potential and when you make your research and start putting his scattered pieces together, he is more complex and compelling that simply being Lara's love interest. And I wanted so much to see that, but alas, we'll never get it. It's late for that, but not for a bit of respect among fandom, even if as improbable.

[blainesebastian]

bookends

words: 4,008 ship: austin butler x reader summary: (request from @livwholikestv) “reader as librarian/works at a bookshop and Austin comes in every day to do research about Elvis“  warnings: none notes: requests are currently open :) thanks for reading!  tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell, @gigisworldsstuff, @stylesmendeshearted, @rairaielv,

You know that people probably find it silly you’ve decided that you want to work in a bookshop when the internet exists and Amazon and literally a hundred different reasons not to go into a place surrounded by shelves and the smell of paper. Those same people might say that libraries and bookstores are a dying breed—that there’s no reason to hold a book between your hands when you can download an audio version, or listen to a podcast, or buy a Kindle.

But in your opinion? Those people are idiots.

Not to be dramatic (kinda) but you were raised in book shops, cafes and libraries. Your mother was a constant reader before she passed, always had a book in her hands, always made sure you did too. You grew up between stacks upon stacks of books, physical ones, and your current apartment has a cityscape of novels, biographies, poetry, graphics, odds and ends and everything in between, fixed up on the floor of every room, read and need to read, all because your bookshelves are already overflowing.

To be frank, research with books is kinda a dying art form, or maybe you’re just talking to the wrong people. Your natural inclination when you’re looking things up is to find a book at work. Don’t get it wrong, you’re not anti-internet by any means, it’s just…there’s something about wandering through the stacks, finding the book you want or need, or sometimes it finds you, and flipping through pages between your fingers, dragging the pads across the lines, like you can somehow absorb information through osmosis.

Sometimes you feel like Meg Ryan in You’ve Got Mail, working at this little corner bookstore called BookEnds near your apartment and across the street from this perfect café in which you can get one of the best cinnamon scones you’ve ever tasted. You’d defend this place with your heart and soul—it’s not much but it’s everything to you. And people who spend time in here, who find something to buy, see that it’s got so much to offer.

More often than not, people are just unwilling to give it that chance—which is their loss.

Picking up a small stack on the front desk, you run through the titles and from memory, can gather where they go in the aisles without looking anything up. You feel like you need another round of coffee—your cat decided last night was the night to join the opera, and it was consistent and annoying. Almost like being part of a sleep test, up nearly every other hour. Running a hand through your hair, you let out a slow breath. Put these back first, then a coffee I.V. Maybe the café will actually have the hazelnut syrup that they’ve been out of that you’ve been craving.

The door opens, a small ding sounding in the bookshop and you get one look at the guy walking in—gorgeous, toned, blondish hair in larger curls near his forehead. Making a face, you reach for your co-worker’s elbow and gently touch the tip of your nose in a ‘not it’ signal.

Cathy laughs, getting a good look at him. “Oh my god, seriously?”

“He probably wants this obscure book for his girlfriend and I don’t have time to wander around for him while he attempts to get it right.”

She lets out a soft laugh because what? And you can’t help but roll your eyes back at her, a twinge of a smile on your lips. Okay, maybe that was a little harsh—it’s the coffee deficiency.

“I’m coffee deprived, can you just…”

She sighs and pushes past you, leaning against the counter as she smiles over at the handsome guy. “Hi, welcome in. Can I help you find something?”

“Yeah, uh,” He pulls out a list. And honestly you appreciate the grind, but you can’t even begin to think about doing that. “I was wonderin’ if you had any of these on hand?”  

“Actually, you know what,” Cathy says as you round the counter with a stack of go-backs in your arms. “Y/N is pretty awesome at finding stuff like this.”

You stop in your tracks at the sound of your name, turning slowly to Cathy who’s grinning and wandering over with the guy’s list in hand. She trades you, taking the stack of books from your arms as she leans in—

“He’s cute.”

A soft laugh sounds in your throat, glancing over at the waiting customer and…okay, she’s got a point but, so? You’re still under the assumption that he’s here to somehow impress a girlfriend with this laundry list of books. Moving back around the counter, you lean against it to look at what he’s brought in and—

You raise your eyebrows because there’s ten books on this list, ten, and they clearly all fall to the same theme. Elvis: What happened?, Elvis & Me, Last Train to Memphis: The Rise of Elvis Presley…

“You doin’ a book report?”

He hums with a small nod, lifting his hand up to rub the back of his neck, “Somethin’ like that.” And uh, okay, strange—but you can’t deny you’re slightly intrigued. Maybe the guy is just into learning rock history. He’s kinda got that charm to him, just slightly, bedroom eyes, natural charisma.

“You got a thing for Elvis?”

He glances up at you, blue eyes bright and amused even though you’re not sure you get the joke. He smiles then—handsome, it reaches right into your chest and squeezes, “Sure, doesn’t everyone?”

You let out a laugh and gaze through some of the other titles. Your half wondering why he’s come to such a hole-in-the-wall bookstore for these when he probably could have done some sort of mass ordering on Barnes & Noble or Amazon but then he begins to talk again,

“I saw on your website that you do rent before you buy—kinda like a library.”

You hum and nod, “Yeah, we give you a card and everything. I call it ‘the book club for undecided people’.”

He smirks and undoes one of the buttons on his jean jacket, loosening up, your eyes glancing at his fingers as he lingers near the counter. He’s got this simple yet attractive look which��it works for him, doesn’t always for most people. The black jean jacket brings out the lightness in his eyes and the blonde in his hair.

Clearing your throat to kinda reset your brain, you take a look at the list again and do a mental checklist. “Okay so…we’re out of two of these right now and I can only lend out five at a time.”

He raises his eyebrows and you can tell right away that he’s either impressed with your memory or that he doesn’t quite believe the inventory.

“You can recall what you got just by lookin’ at the list?”

You playfully tap your temple, “All up here.”

You’ve worked here for a long time, pretty much all through high school, college…in and outs of this place down to the very floorboards that creak when you walk on them. He then switches gears, running a hand through his hair,

“Only five?” Back to the book renting, “Thought libraries could do a lot more than that.” And you’re about to tell him that this isn’t a real library, pursing your lips to explain— “Any exceptions?”

You scoff out a small laugh because okay, no matter how easily handsome this man is, you slowly turn the sign around that’s next to you on the counter to face him. In red font, Five Books NO EXCEPTIONS.

“We got a low inventory because or Mr. Exceptions like yourself.”

He crinkles his nose, definitely not thrilled with this information but you’re not sure what else you can offer him. “I kinda wanted to just hole myself up in my apartment and read.”

Taking a moment to look at his face, you can tell that there might be something more to it than that but you can’t put your finger on it. “All of them at once?” Just a small joke at his expense, but at least he smiles.

You take a clipboard out from underneath the counter, putting a form on there for him to fill out for the book rental.

“Fill this out, I’ll grab your first five. Unless you have a preference?”

He shakes his head, taking a pen out of the cup near the register. You hum lightly, moving quickly towards the aisles that hold the books you need. There’s a combination of Elvis Presley books in Biographies, Music History, and then some shelf names personal to the bookstore, like: Heartthrob Tragedies and King Shit (which has such a wide variety it’s almost funny).

Bringing back five different books for him, you set them down on the counter as he finishes the signature on the bottom of the form and pushes the clipboard towards you. Picking it up, you grab a card and peel the sticker off the back that his a barcode number on it and paste it to the top of his form.

“Alright,” You smile, “You’re all set. Happy reading.”

He takes a look at the books, his list sticking out the top of one of them. “So I just come back when I’m ready to purchase or trade in?”

“Yep,” You glance down at the form, “Austin.” You smile a little, “We get to do this all over again.”

He laughs softly through his nose, picking up the stack, “Looking forward to it.”

Was that a joke? There was definitely a smirk attached and your eyes follow him as he leaves the bookstore, the little bell jingling to signal his departure. Humming, you look down at the clipboard and begin typing in his information into the computer so he’s registered.

Cathy comes back around the counter, letting out a sigh that’s far too early in the day for. Ugh, you still need that coffee. Okay, form first, then a very large caffeine remedy. She takes the form off the clipboard when you’re done with it and you notice her eyes nearly bulge out of her head.

“What?”

“When were you going to tell me?” She laughs, motioning towards the paper, “I knew he looked familiar. Couldn’t put my finger on it.”

You’re so confused, kinda just blinking at her until she finally explains.

Cathy shakes her head, pointing to the paper, “Austin Butler. You know—Once Upon a Time in Hollywood?, Carrie Diaries…” She grins, “Shannara Chronicles!”

“Okay, now you’re just saying words.” You chuckle, moving forward to touch the bottom of the paper. “You’re saying that was him?”

“Definitely.”

You chew on your lower lip as you take a look at the computer screen, the saved profile of Austin’s in the ‘undecided book club’ tab. What are the odds? And all before your morning coffee.

--

You kinda forget about it—Austin, the Elvis books, the fact that this actor has found this corner of the city bookstore to wander into to look for his novels. Definitely a choice, right? Whatever, he probably won’t even come back himself, have his agent or something drop off the books he thumbed through and call it a day.

Except, you’re scrolling on Instagram one night and you come across a photoshoot of Austin and one click ends up on another post, another share, another Instastory, into a black hole of YouTube interviews and…turns out, seems like Austin is a nice guy. What can you really know from watching a bunch of that stuff, you’re sure he’s different in front of a camera vs. talking to someone but…even candid interactions he has with fans of his seem completely genuine.

There’s this moment where you kinda second guess whether or not that was actually him in the bookstore.

Your mind wanders about a lot of things pertaining to Austin, keeping you awake and staring at the ceiling and the rain against the windowpane. Why all the books on Elvis? Genuine interest or some kind of…research for a new project? A film? Wouldn’t that be interesting. Maybe you’re jumping to conclusion but your mind whirs with possibilities.

And you definitely feel like a zombie when you head into work, even with coffee in hand.

Cathy just kinda snickers at you and says nothing, which is good, because the last thing you’d want to do is ruin this perfectly good cup of coffee by tossing it on her. You get into the groove of the work day, though, helping out customers that wander in, tourists, putting books away that were either returned, misplaced, or from new shipments.

You decide you’re going to put together a great new display in the front of the bookstore for murder mysteries, so that keeps you busy, barely hearing the bell go off until you feel someone come up beside you. You’re debating on labeling it—I got 99 problems but Ms. Scarlet in the Library with a candlestick ain��t one. Probably too long…but funny, right?

“Do you actually read any of these before you put them out in front like this?”

Your heart jolts right up into your throat as you recognize the timbre, stomach flip flopping in this embarrassing way because before you had no idea who Austin even was and now your body is acting like a schoolgirl with a crush.

Centering yourself, you turn a little to look at him, your eyes taking him in. He’s wearing a pair of blue jeans and a simple black t-shirt, leather jacket this time because of course he is. Looking far too handsome to just be browsing through books.

“Yes,” You raise your eyebrows, “As many as I can—life gets in the way sometimes, you know.” He hums in agreement, picking up one of the books on display to read the back. You’re feeling antsy underneath your skin, “Buying any books today?”

“Elvis & Me,” He replies, putting the book down to give you his attention. “Really liked that one.”

You smile a little and…swear he’s beginning to sound like Elvis, just a little? Some of the inflections in his tone, the roughness around the edges. Or maybe you’re imagining things.

“Definitely a good one,” You agree, “Kinda sad though.”

“All are kinda sad.” Austin adds and you suppose you can’t disagree with that.

You walk to the counter with him as he takes the other books out, a few pages folded at the tips but you won’t lecture him on that. There’s this comfortable silence that’s filled with cars outside, tires on slick rain-covered pavement, soft movement and people moving throughout the stacks, footsteps on wood.

You open up his profile on the computer by typing in his last name and you kinda glance up at him to find that his eyes are already on you, trailing over your form. You really try not to give him the satisfaction of blushing.

Sighing a little, you lean against the counter and consider your words carefully before meeting his gaze. “So…were you gonna tell me?”

It takes him about a half a second to realize what you’re talking about and he purses his lips, eyes sparkling in shared amusement and cheekiness. “Maybe…would it have let me rent more than five books out at a time?”

You laugh softly, checking off each of the books he’s returned before ringing him up for the Elvis & Me. “No, but that was a solid attempt.” You look at the list he’s brought back and tap the paper with your finger, “Next five?”

He nods and follows you into the stacks as you search for his books. It’s kinda nice actually, because once you find one of the books he wants, you’re able to hand it to him to hold. It doesn’t take you very long, you know this place like a blueprint imprinted on your mind—and Austin notices that.

“What made you want to work here?”

You hum, a small smile tugging the corners of your mouth. You feel like it’s such a loaded question sometimes and you swallow down the urge to reply sarcastically, the knee jerk reaction to defend your choices. Why be a bookstore clerk when you could literally be doing anything else? Like having a successful career?

“Well, it should be fairly obvious that I love books,” You smile over your shoulder, moving towards another aisle, “And uh…” You have no idea why you’re telling him this, he’s practically a stranger, and yet you know Austin relates given your late night research and there’s this aura around him that you can’t explain that makes you feel completely comfortable with him, “Well my mom loved to read, she always had something different in her hands,” You lick your lips, handing him another book. “She died two years ago.”

Austin pauses, a soft nod, “I’m sorry. Makes you feel closer to her, I’m sure.”

As you turn a corner, you hesitate to look at him. He does get it, without you even having to say it, “Yeah, exactly.”

There’s one more book that’s on Austin’s list that you’re having a bit of trouble finding but it’s probably because the teenager who works in here on Saturdays mis-shelved it. You chew on your lower lip, checking one more place.

“So I’m assumin’ you’ve got a favorite book.”

“Oh of course,” You check behind a few novels and…got it. Pulling it out triumphantly, you put it on Austin’s stack in his hands. “Doesn’t everyone? Though it really depends on the mood I’m in—how are you ever supposed to pick just one?”

He smiles as he listens, like the concept of having multiple favorites is intriguing. And it’s definitely one of things you noticed in the interviews you watched, how Austin gives his complete attention over to another person. He might have been the one being asked questions in some cases but he gives that equal attention back—easily looping you into the warmth of the conversation by making sure he knows your name, asking questions back, listening with intent, not just because it looks good.

So you feel like he’s waiting for a legitimate response and…well, you want to give it to him. You do love talking about books.

“Favorite like…I could read it a million times over or favorite as in ‘if I could only pick one book to read for my whole life’?”

He purses his lips, “Last part.”

You hum, something difficult. Alright, well, you enjoy a challenge. You ponder the question a few times over as you both walk to the front of the store, getting ready to check him out for his new set of rented books.

“My favorite is The Things They Carried by Tim’O Brien,” You smile a little, putting his new selection of Elvis related books under his profile and pushing them towards him when you’re done, “It’s historical fiction and I know that sounds boring right off the bat,” You laugh, “But the writing is really beautiful and it’s told in a series of vignettes that you can read separately or out of order.”  

Austin smiles, “You have a copy here?”

Your eyebrows crinkle together a bit in confusion but you nod, “Yeah, I can uh…I can add it to your rent list for next time.”

“I’ll just buy it,” Austin replies, taking his wallet out.

You let out a soft laugh in surprise, “Uhm, I mean…you don’t even know if you’re gonna like it yet.”

“But it comes so highly recommended,” He teases, “And it’ll give me a good reason to ask for your number.”

There’s a long string of moments in which you know he can’t be serious, the back of your neck heating up and your cheeks going red. That seems to be the response he’s after, because his eyes flutter over your face, a small smirk pulling the ends of his mouth. And that doesn’t seem fair at all.

You bite the inside of your cheek, keeping him on his toes too by saying, “Really think I’ll need to hear your review on my favorite book first.”

Austin doesn’t expect that, you can see it on his face as he slowly smiles, nodding as he gathers up the books he’s taking with him. “I’ll be back with a review then.”

And while you’re not exactly going to hold your breath? You can’t say that you’re not looking forward to that.

--

Cathy thinks you’re downright crazy, and maybe you are, but it seemed like such a smooth idea at the time to have Austin wait to get your number. But then a week passes, and then two, and then it’s an entire month.

Then it’s three and you’re almost certain this man isn’t coming back.

There’s no set return date for the books, exactly, either. If a customer doesn’t bring them back within a year, their card is charged. But you have a feeling that’d be something insignificant to someone like Austin. There’s no use fretting over it—maybe you missed a moment, a shot, and yet nothing is stopping him from coming in either, right?

You let it go (barely, but you’re working on it).

Coming into the bookstore later one day than you usually do, a cup of coffee in your hand, you’re looking down at your phone (rookie mistake) and nearly knock someone right over.

“Oh sorry,” You look up at the jet-black haired guy and…blink.

“Just the person I was lookin’ for.” Austin smiles and you’re pretty sure your brain is restarting because—

“Did you…” Your eyes graze over his curls, the style exactly the same except for the shade and it brings out the blueness of his irises. Definitely not a bad look for him, but unquestionably striking in difference, “What were trying to come in undercover since you disappeared for three months?”

He laughs lightly and at least has the decency to look a little guilty, “Yeah I uh, I got caught up,” And there’s an apology in the tone of his voice even though he doesn’t say the words out loud. You wonder if it has anything to do with the sudden hair change…which looks very closely related to Elvis, if you were to think about it.

“But it gave me a chance to read your book like I said I was goin’ to.”

You hum and move towards the counter to put your things down, sliding your coat off your shoulders. You’re genuinely wondering what he thought about it, especially since you didn’t think he would read it at all…or commit book-robbery and come back into the bookstore. So a pleasant surprise for sure and you straighten your shoulders, attempting to shake out the frazzled feeling nipping at the bottom of your stomach.

You pick up your coffee and take a long sip, “So—what about a two-word review to get us started.”

Austin licks his lips, leaning against the counter as he thinks about it. Not an easy answer, for sure, and you’re glad he’s actually taking the time to formulate a response.

And then— “Hauntingly beautiful.”

Your stomach drops straight to your knees and it feels like a breeze brushes through the bookstore, traveling down your spine. You swallow over an emotion in your throat, heartbeat kinda picking up in your ears and while you know it’s a coincidence? It just doesn’t feel like one.

Your mom used to use the exact same words to describe your favorite book. Hauntingly beautiful. Something that Austin would obviously never know.

Taking in a short breath, you grab a post-it from near the register and scribble your name and phone number on it, handing it over to him with a small smile.

“Good answer.”

Austin smirks, taking the post-it with an agreeing hum. You have no idea where this is going to go, if anywhere, but you’ve always been a fan of reading new books…and you’re looking forward to see how this chapter is going to write itself.

[thenatashapulleyuniverse]

🍬🔪🥐

🍬- post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character

This question was hard to answer, but I thought of a response after like two hours of thinking in bed. Before I say what it is, I would like to preface this with the fact that if any of you guys disagree with me, you are free to send me an anonymous ask saying so, or DM me to discuss, or whatever. I am open to changing my mind and love discussion.

That being said, I do not think Takiko Pepperharrow should have been half-white.

I can think of no major and essential reason for her being biracial besides the fact that her being half-English allowed for her to have an interesting sounding last name for the title and her being able to learn English.

Authors are allowed to write in biracial characters. And the biracial experience is no monolith, so who am I to stop a half-Japanese/white person from seeing themselves in Pepper. But Pepper lived in Japan all her life, has been racialized as a Japanese woman, is seen by others as a Japanese woman—and the only thing “foreign” about her appearance is her gray eyes. In her POV, she doesn’t note anybody who pauses to wonder if she’s half white (if I recall correctly. I haven’t read Pepperharrow since last year in January). By all accounts, Pulley could have made her a full Japanese woman and the story nor her character would have changed. 

Pulley's characters of color are written in this interesting way where a lot of them come so incredibly close to introspecting their racial identity in a very English and white world, but do not delve any deeper because Pulley wants to add diversity but doesn't have the experience to say anything more. (Think: Matsumoto talking to Thaniel in Watchmaker about being as English as Francis Fanshaw, he still feels like he's constantly performing whenever he wears Western clothes.) Which is valid. I can understand if she wants to stay in her lane or whatever

And there’s also the argument to be made that well Pepperharrow’s biracial identity doesn’t need to add anything to the story. A person of color can simply exist to be a tool for the narrative and we don’t really need to dwell on their racial background because it simply isn’t important to the larger story. LOOK I GET IT! But this thought can also coexist with the idea that a character’s racial background can affect who they are as a character! How they view themselves, how they act in public, how they act behind closed doors. It adds another interesting layer of characterization!

I can’t help but compare her to Pulley’s other biracial Asian character, Joe Tournier. Whereas I believe Pepper didn’t need to be half-white, I could not say the same for Joe at all. His being half-Chinese creates an interesting contrast to Kite in that both men are hiding who they really are; both men have changed their last names in order to be taken seriously (Kite even lets his Spanish accent show when he’s feeling vulnerable!!) and both have never really felt like they had a place to truly belong to. Joe’s racial background doesn’t add anything world-changing to the overall stakes of the narrative, but it adds a depth to the themes of The Kingdoms about characters finding home. 

tl;dr: my girl pepper didn’t need to be half-white ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

🔪- what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project

I can't think of anything absurd right now so here's what I've researched in the past and you decide if they're that weird:

pre-colonial filipino boats (because i didnt know if they used sails or not)

victorian dinner party etiquette

victorian stocks and investments

🥐- name one internet reference that will always make you laugh

"they call me the fujoker. why so yurious?"

[h3lfaerie]

Okay first off this PoA is the most amazing fanfic I have ever read. Like it's just so good I can read it multiple times a day and I notice more minute details the more I reread. Which brings me to the reason why I'm sending this terror mail.

The creature (I refuse to believe it's a dragon) has caught my attention so bad it's led my to scouring the internet for it's name using the small details i was given.

It's only today that I realized this may be the product of another one of your brilliant ideas that popped into your mind.

So I am BEGGING YOU please! Clarify if this is entirely made up from that beautiful brain of yours or a mythic creature that I have yet to gaze upon.

I thank you in advance,

<3 anon

First of all,

The fact that you went LOOKING-

Bestie, I am squealing and kicking my feet right now. You ended up actively trying to figure it out, which is like... the best freaking compliment ever?? Thank you so much!!

Secondly, when I originally began this project I didn't think I'd wind up setting up an entire murder mystery. I've had to go down some very niche rabbit holes to understand the ins and outs of... well, crime and I'm pretty sure I might be on a watchlist due to my search history-

I must say... The predator is somewhat of a combination between an already existing entity (I can't say what kind, so it could be a dragon, who knows 👀) and something I have had to think about and devise myself for quite a while.

A huge thing about Chapter 7 in particular was that it took me so long to write (despite it being relatively short) because the details of what happened to Kingstail are essentially the end result of what is a timeline of occurrences.

I needed to know what manner of creature would end up hunting after dragons (which are already an apex predator). I had to consider motivation, appearances, strengths and weaknesses, behavioral patterns, location. I needed to have figured out EVERYTHING about this before I could devise Hiccup's point of view because he is essentially playing the role of a crimes investor and a forensic scientist (poor guy).

In other words, he is working backwards from what is basically the very gruesome aftermath towards what may have caused it by trailing clues and certain details. And in order to understand what he would be seeing in this situation is if I, as an author, KNOW my creature inside outside back to front.

A lot of thought and research went into this predator. As well as a lot of creative liberties. Nordic Mythos is weirdly rather difficult to research because upon trying to find information about anything the Norse would consider wights or monsters or spirits is largely overshadowed by singular, almost deity-like figures like Fenrir, or Sleipnir or Jörmungandr. I didn't need that.

I needed the shit they'd scare their children with when they misbehaved. I needed the reason why they'd continuously tell you not to stray from the path when entering the woods.

I needed what they called Vaettir.

Now you're more than welcome to scour the page and consider the possibilities. But I can't say you'll find the answer ;)

Only that this is where I, as an author, started.

If I was to leave a hint to stir you in the right direction it would be: consider the location where Kingstail's body was found, and consider what is missing from it.

Thank you so much for your ask, anon <3 Your continuous support for Path of Alfheim is something I can never truly thank you enough for. I'm hoping to be able to post the new Chapter soon.

___________________

BONUS: I recently made an audio for the Craze, which you can also find under the PoA Audio tag <3

🎧HEADPHONE WARNING, LOUD🎧

[maddiviner]

When I was (I think?) eleven, I found a copy of the first book in Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials series (Northern Lights). It was in my English teacher's personal classroom library. She immediately let me borrow it, because she was always trying to encourage us to read.

And this? The passage above? Was so exciting to me as a kiddo.

Why? At that age, I wasn't quite in the teenaged "I know everything" mode. I did have the vague idea that smart people went their own way and didn't listen to anyone, though.

Of course, I was a kid, and well-aware of my own limitations. Still, I guess growing up in the 1990s, individuality got pushed a lot, and with it, self-sufficiency. Actual smart people, I thought as a child, could handle things on their own right?

But here? In this book, you've got a portrayal of super-serious academic adults listening to each other. The main speaker in the passage is a college president discussing funding. He's a smart guy. The matter at hand involves other universes and physics and lots of cool stuff like that. He's seen a bit about it, but doesn't understand it in its entirety.

The point, though? He's perfectly willing to admit the matter at hand isn't his field. He trusts his colleagues understand it, and he listens to them about it. Unfortunately, the matter at hand is interdimensional heresy, but he's choosing to place his trust in the experts anyways.

Of course, nowadays, we live in a world where everyone wants to "do their own research" on YouTube. It sounds good, of course, and it jives with what a lot of us learned growing up. Skepticism, lack of trust for authority, etc. I'm not even saying that can't be healthy.

It's just that experts exist for a reason. We have them so that we can listen to them. I know we shouldn't consume anything uncritically, but part of critical thinking involves looking to those who already know more.

It seems like with the internet having wrapped its gossamer claws around civilization, more and more people have stopped doing that, for better or worse. Anyways, I hunted down this passage again, on the Kindle copy, because this was on my mind.

[nopeferatu]

Since the play implies that Ennis is still alive in 2013, do you think he ever went into town just to get something and end up seeing a pride march happening? I feel like he'd be trying to hide his jealously at seeing people being so open as disgust, and secretly be wishing him and Jack could have been open like that. And he would probably have seen a couple that reminded him of himself and Jack, just to twist the knife in further. (Also I think he would secretly pick something pride related up, like a tiny flag, something easy to hide and put it on Jack's shirt)

So I got this ask when I was on the plane ride back to the US and my interest was piqued, so I bought the 4hr British Airways internet package just to do some research; turns out that, from what I could find, the pride festivals in the bigger cities of Wyoming are all pretty recent? As in, I think the earliest one I could find started in Casper in 2015, which kind of goes to show you even further the kind of state that Ennis and Jack would have grown up in for the pride festivals in the BIG cities to have started so recently.

Even if he wouldn't have had the chance to see a pride march in 2013, the thought of Ennis existing in the modern day and age is really interesting to me. I think things have gotten to where even in a state as unpopulated as Wyoming queer people are becoming more and more visible, and so if he had to absolutely run to one of the bigger cities for some reason or another, the chances of him coming across a queer couple just living life like normal would be great and growing by the day.

Imagine Ennis wandering around, trying to find such and such shop for such and such thing that Junior needed for her family, when he sees a couple of young guys in their boots and wranglers. They're not doing anything unbecoming, just standing a little bit close, laughing and jostling each other, but not in any way that would set alarm bells off for him—until they lock their hands together and leave to wherever they're going. Maybe share a quick peck on the cheek before they go, dealing the final gut-punch of the day for him.

I'm honestly not sure how comfortable he'd be with the thought of same-gender attracted people like him and Jack being so open, but I do often think about how Ennis would react to seeing an openly gay couple for the first time in his life, maybe in his mid-to-late 40s. I think he wouldn't know what to do with himself. I feel like he'd stare, and he wouldn't be able to catch his staring in time, so he'd try poorly to play it off and keep on walking to wherever he had to be. I think he'd get angry about it, too. At them for flaunting their thing around like it's fine and dandy to do so, at himself for denying Jack for so long, and at the world for changing too late for them to have ever had a chance. Ennis is a very complicated man and so unfortunately I think his disgust at the sight would be real (there's a fic where he and Jack come across hippie boys who he talks shit about bc he doesn't like that they don't have the decency to keep themselves hidden, which is a very Ennis-thing to think, imo) but what is also so very real is his jealousy. He just wishes he could have had that kind of a life with Jack.

Anyways anon, your ask reminds me of another all-time favorite fic of mine, Might Seem Like an Ordinary Night by theswearingkind on ao3. It's a lovely little fic about Ennis reacting to New York legalizing gay marriage in 2013. Give it a read—it's very short but packs such an emotional punch.

[hyperpocky28]

RANT ABOUT ONLINE CULTURE WOO!! The topic is: the normalization of the refusal to broaden your horizons through edgy comments and how that has greatly contributed to the media literacy crisis. Featuring Yves Klein!

I’m sure by now you’ve noticed that people online have gotten scarily dumber. Not to put myself on a pedestal- I am also lumped in with this category. The only difference is that I am aware of my flaw and am trying to amend it. The general online populous has widely adopted an unempathetic and

I just came across a WONDERFUL explanation of Klein Blue by milkisweird on tiktok. Klein’s work as recently been criticized by people online saying that they could easily replicate his pieces. In response, Milk posted a very helpful slideshow on the topic. They explain how Yves Klein spent years developing the shade of blue on the canvas and how it literally did not exist before him.

The large blue canvas isn’t meant to show off artistic technique, it’s presented to show the immense hard work and artistic/chemical abilities that art can bring out. This guy liked blue so much he made another blue. Like. Dude.

The facts are staring them in the face: they physically would not have been able to make that painting if not for the artist and it is in this museum as a relic of history. However, for whatever reason, people in the comments refuse to accept this!! Take a look:

You as the reader may think that this is just the internet being obnoxious. But these are just a few of the top comments with tens of thousands of likes. These comments may seem unassuming, but they are actually extremely harmful. They are, whether they know it or not, perpetuating the idea that history does not matter. I can paint a canvas blue. I don’t care about the paint. I don’t care about the years of labor and love it took to create this. I do not care about history. It’s stupid. It’s not art. It’s not a pretty picture of a scene or a portrait of a beautiful woman. It disregards everything groundbreaking about this piece as something anyone can do. And when this idea is agreed upon by thousands… I think you can see how bad things have truly gotten.

Poetically, this relates back to the hilarious haha saying that, “the curtains are just blue!” This is another comment frequently thrown around that directly discourages people from looking for a deeper meaning. Instead of looking for a potential significance in the work that may have even been unintended, those seeking more are shut down. There’s no need to look deeper! You’re being stupid. The curtains are just blue. It’s deeply concerning how it’s just expected to not do any further research into a topic, especially when most people get their information from social media. Please read the news, read articles, studies, anything. Avoid confirmation bias and LEARN. There is usually something more than what meets the eye. Education (not just from schools!) is one of the most important aspects of life! Learn!!

These edgy comments can go even further to diminish human suffering and empathy, no matter how minor. Someone posts about a breakup? Womp womp. Someone just lost their pet? The world keeps spinning. Sharing that you are sad about something that isn’t totally devastating? Damn I kinda don’t care. Share your art as a beginner? Make something that might be a little cringe? Post about something that isn’t completely the norm? Have a fucking personality for once? Oh..!

Bullying has become disgustingly normalized on the internet. You cannot post a TikTok without the looming fear of being bullied off the platform. Something needs to be done about it. Call it out next time you see it, I beg. Because not only is this putting down others for no real reason, but it reinforces a rather harmful norm of complacency and stupidity. Anything outside the norm needs to be eradicated. God forbid you learn something new.

TL;DR: The online sphere has greatly decreased media literacy by sheer lack of care and compassion for other people, and the refusal to learn/look for meaning.

With all that being said, do some research for me. Be loving to those who aren’t like you, and don’t shoot people down for doing things that are ultimately harmless. Speak up when you see injustice and help as much as you can.

Love ya,

A

[androgynousblackbox]

Easy Penny. 1 [Cherrisnake]

When Cherri finds herself without funds, she has to get a part time job as the minion of one of her former enemies. She thinks maybe she could take advantage of her boss with her charms, but what was not expecting was being the one charmed by him.

"Fuck this stupid ass job!"

Her scream was the only warning before the explosions started resounding all over the place. Cherri came out the little dinner, throwing away the stupid tray with coffe mugs she was supposed to take back to the kitchen. Fuck all of that. She threw another bomb casually at her back, breaking the main windows, before ripping out the damn name tag on her chest.

Since the start, she had a bad vibe about the place. The fact that the uniform the owner insisted should be wearing was at least one size too small, forcing the fabric to stick to her body, and the skirt was so damn short she found herself constantly pulling it downwards was already enough. The payment was good enough that she was willing to be the eye candy that they wanted. If Angel Dust was literally leaving nothing to the imagination for his job, and makig good money out of it, then what was a mini skirt in comparison? It was the part where the clients kept thinking that was a green card to touch her everytime she passed them by the point in which she draw the line. Her already minimal patience had become non existent when the owner gave her ass a squeeze too when she was busy cleaning up tables and then, when she barked on his face to keep his grubby little hands for himself, the guy had the audacity of telling her to learn to take a joke.

That is when the bombs came off, destroying the inside of the building as people tried to come out the door as fast as possible. She gave the place one last middle finger before running away. In took him to the next street to start groaning out loud.

Why did this kind of shit happened to her? This was the sixth job she had to give up for some bullshit reason since the year started, and it never seemed to be enough to supply both for her basic needs or the extra she needed to keep her partying lifestyle. Oh, sure, she could live without that extra or she could throw herself into traffic or do any other number of things that would make living in actual literal hell more intolerable than it was already.

Yeah, no, that option was off the table. Fuck that. Everyone needed something and she wasn't going to deprive herself from her thing for just a stupid thing like lack of money. She just needed to figure out where to get that money. Just as easy as fucking that.

She groaned to herself, rubbing her face. Why nobody could just pay her for being hot and exploding things? She had plenty of experience on both those areas. Maybe something to do with demolition? Sexy demolition? Was that even a thing?

A couple of research results on internet later, she found out that it was a thing. Good looking girls were being called upon for a demolition company because the hotter the girls, the more they got hired, or at least that was the logic that their boss explained to them. The uniform was some tiny short-shorts and also small top, work booths and a helmet. She lasted just a couple of weeks working there until their boss was "taking care of" by some overlords to whome he owed it money to and it was back to the unemployed search. At the very least the overlord took care of paying them where they were going to receive at the end of the month and that had to be her consolation for some time, until eventually that also ran out.

Of course that that same guy had offered them a lot more than that if they signed contracts with him and Cherri had already seen that bullshit happen way too many times to know it was a bad idea. She said thank you, that is very nice, but no thank you and was actually relieved when they left it at all. Most of the girls accepted anyway. There was no point wasting resources on just one of them when the benefits were already there. The relief only lasted until it dawned on her that she still needed to find something for herself.

She even thought about starting her own company with the same idea. Improve it even, with both hot guys with hot girls, but quickly gave up when she realized that was way too much work and absolutely not the point of anything. One by one, she went to all the interviews that she could cath as available on the newspaper because someone, somewhere, for any reason, had to give her something more solid to do.

Attending calls for sex phone? Apparently her accent wasn't sexy enough for the standards of the company.

Clerk for a baby store that just opened up? They didn't like it when one cursed too much while telling kiddos to not destroy the toys in display.

Painter? They didn't appreciate she tried to speed the whole process with a bomb full of paint. It only left a few people deaf for a few minutes. Pussies.

Babysitter for pets? If there was a husband, he would always try to get with her and if there wasn't, all her clients were too specific about every single thing that their pets could ever need. After the last one had fired her for feeding their little shits a different brand of premiun food than the one that was supposed to, she didn't want to try that again.

In the end, she had a newspaper page full of red crosses and the only space that wasn't marked showed literally her only option. It had to be her last option for her to even consider it. When it was clear there was nothing for her to try to, she sat on her bed and stared at her phone for a whole five minutes before she started typing the number.

It took a while for someone to answer on the other side, but when it did, it wasn't the voice that she was expecting.

"Hello? Who is talking? Do you want to talk to the boss?"

For fuck sake, he had them now being his seretaries? Cherri stomped the floor with her heel, considering to just hang out and look for something else. But she knew there wasn't anything else, so she took a deep breath instead.

"Yeah, pass me to him" said finally.

"Okay! Boss, the tiny person that lives on your rectangle wants to speak to you!"

A sound of a power tool turned off, right before the voice of the last guy she wanted to rely on in hell started talking.

"Yess? How can I help you?"

"I called for the position" said Cherri with a huge sigh. Luckily at least the man on the other side didn't made a big deal out of hearing her voice. "For the assistant thing?"

"Oh, really?!" Pentious cleared his throat, putting a more formal voice. "I mean, yess, indeed, I am looking for one. Do you have any experience in the area?"

Cherri frowned and stared at her phone. Was he for real?

"Uh, I have experience fighting on turf wars" said, really holding back on throwing light over the fact that she had kicked his ass at least a dozen times during those so he should know already. If anything, that should be a selling point in her opinion, but still didn't know if Pentious was going to be the kind to appreciate that kind of remarks from his underlings. "I… have sort of a reputation for it. So there is that."

"Do you now? Well, that iss pretty good. When do you think you can come?"

Cherri blinked. That easy?

"Do I get the job now?"

"No, no, no, ssorry, I didn't meant that. I assked becausse clearly I can't hire you without having any idea of what you would be like working with me out there. Sso if you are really sserious about getting this job, I think a practical experience iss going to be the besst to clear any doubtss. If everything comess out alright, I could give you an uniform so you can sstart ass ssoon ass possible! Hell doessn't wait for anyone, my friend!"

"Sure" Cherri sighed. She should have known something like that was coming. "So how good is the pay anyway?" asked, without wanting to wait any longer for that, which was her main focus.

"Ass beffeting to the dangerouss and very important labor I hope my asssisstant is going to fulfill!" said Pentious and then told her a number that had Cherri jump out of her bed, holding the phone tight on her hand.

She had no idea from where the fuck that snake man had that much money, but if he was willing to give her a portion of it in exchange for some help then by all means, she wasn't about to protest about it.

"I can go right now" said, grabbing her jacket. "Where are you?"

"Oh" Pentious sounded taken aback by it. "N-now? Right now you want to come in?"

"Yes, man. Didn't you just say hell waits for no one? Just send me the adress and I will be there."

"Uuuuuh, sssssure! Yes, very well! I like an assistant with some initiative!" His tone didn't exactly reflected that, as Cherri could still hear some clanking and metallic sounds in the backfround. "Abssolutely, you can come in. But don't try anything funny or elsse my ssecurity ssysstem will be upon you fasster than you can devilish eggss!"

Cherri rolled her eye and exhalled. Corny ass old man. After just a few minutes her phone went up with a new notification. The locations was already send.

"Perfect! See you later, loser!" said, hanging up and only later realized what she said, groaning.

That was probably not the best way to say goodbye to a new boss, but whatever. She had already decided to do this shit, then the least she could do is to carry through. The worst that could happen is that Pentious closed the door on her face. If she actually got this, then that was a safe and secure thing for a least the rest of the years that would give her more than enough.

The address of Pentious turned out to be on a more desolated area of the city that she was expecting. Most of the buildings around looked to be either abandoned or destroyed partially, leaving only some sinners dealing on the corners. All of which made the building where Pentious had to be waiting to stand out all the more. If it wasn't the caged camera that followed her as soon she came close, it was going to the telescope coming out from one of the superior windows or the ship looking thing that came out from the roof. The graffities all around it were hastily painted over or crossed out, but there were too many to count.

Cherri blowed a bubble gum in front of the camera and knocked on the door. Inside she could hear a mess of stuff moving around, until a tiny hand opened up the door to reveal one of the egg boys.

"Are you the tiny person from the rectangle?"

"Yeah. Sup" greeted as she chewed.

The small demon egg struggled to get the door open, making a wild gesture for her to come inside. Cherri stared around the place she imagined had to be the lobby. In another life this building had to have been some kind of fireman department, which explained the wide space and the pole, but now it was filled with vaguely steampunkie junk, tools and boxes left open with the Carmilla logo on the side.

"Have we met before?" asked the same egg, after struggling to close the door again. He seemed genuinely perplexed, squinting his eyes as if that was going to make his memory go better.

"A couple of times" Cherri looked at him back, wondering if she should mention the many battles in which she made eggs explode to win. Mostly because she had no idea if those death were ever permanent or not, since she didn't know either if they were supposed to be sinners or hellborn. Did they ever respawned after she cracked them? If not, then probably talk about his fallen brothers would come out in real bad taste. "Uh, is Pentious here or what?" asked after an uncomfortable silence.

"Oh, yes, the boss is here!" said the egg enthusiastically, glad to be of help.

Then he stayed there, smiling, adding nothing else. Cherri blew up another bubble and licked the traces of gum from her lips.

"Are you going to bring him over or…?"

"Good idea!" The egg boy said loudly, before running off with their short legs up to the stairs to the second floor.

With minions such as those, no wonder the guy had to put stuff on the newspaper to get help. It was also no wonder he barely ever won any of the fights he got himself involved with. She chewed mindlessly as she started lookig onto the open boxes. Most of the one had ammo for cannons as far she could tell, but some were smaller weapons, handheld guns. Nearby there were some workbenches full of parts that were yet to come together.

"Welcome to my evil lair!" announced the voice of Pentious from a top the stairs, making a flair of hands as he descended. "Marvel upon the future Gun Overlord, Sir Pen… Cherri!?"

Upon seeing her, Sir Pentious slipped his hand on the reiling and lost his balance, rolling down. By some miracle, however, he managed to stand himself up right at the bottom of the stairs. He quickly fixed up his suit and cleared his throat, as if to pretend none of that ever happened.

"We ssee each other again, Cherri Bomb!" announced bombastically, making a pose. The confidence only lasted about a second before he frowned again in confusion. "Why are sseeing each other again? I mean, here? I wass ssuppossed to meet ssomeone now. For the…"

"The advertisement, yeah" Cherri pulled the page of the newspaper with a red rectangle around the square Pentious had paid for his announcement. "That is still me" pointed out, looking over him. "We… talked in the phone. Did you really not know that it was me?"

Sir Pentious blinked.

"Oh. That explains why the voisse ssounded familiar. I thought it was jusst my earss failing. When you work with heavy machinery all day you can never be totally ssure."

"Well, it's not" Cherri chewed her gum. "I came here for the pay, so you tell me what you want me to do, boss."

"Iss that… I-I mean, yess! Finally, you recognize the superior abilities of the future Overlord in front of you!"

"Whatever you say, dude" Cherri blowed another bubble. "How do you make so much money, by the way?"

"Patentst! Many, many patents!" said Sir Pentious loudly, reaching out to another room. After a second he came back, making a pout. "You were ssupossed to follow me. Please, keep up."

Cherri shrugged and walked to where he dissapeared again. It was a room full of lockers and benches. Most of them were occupied by weapons, but Pentious quickly closed them before she could see too much.

"Works in progress!" justified, going to a locker near the wall and opening it up. "I was hoping that my assistant would use the appropriate uniform. A unified front starts with presenting a coherent sense of style! That way, everyone will know it's my gang of evil doerss behind each of our attackss!" explained dramatically, pulling out a grey suit with yellow stripes, similar to the one he was using, if only because this one actually had pants. "If you are sseriouss about working under me, I expect you to comply with this requirement."

Cherri took the hanger that the man was offering her and she chewed loudly as she made a face. Oh, no. That wouldn't do at all.

"Uh, do I get less pay if something happens to it?"

Sir Pentious frowned, as if he never even thought about it.

"No, why it would?"

"Alright" She put the suit on the bench and started taking out her coat. "Fine, I will change. If you want to watch, you can just stay there."

She said in the tone of a joke, but actually testing out the waters. If Sir Pentious was eager to see her, she was willing to ask for a raise immediately to only then idulged him in, as long he didn't try to touch her. If that was the kind of dynamic that they could have, then she was going to keep that snake eating from the palm of her hand. But what she didn't expect was the violent blush that covered up the entire man's face as his eyes went wider than ever, right before he covered them up with both his hands.

"I will go! Pleasse, take your time!" yelled, making his way to the exit and stumbling with everything on his way until he was out.

Cherri frowned at that. Was he gay after all? It wasn't an issue, but it did meant that she had to change her approach in order to get more out of him. Maybe he could entice him through offering pictures of Angel or something? Angie would know to help a girl in need.

In any case, now she had something to fix. She pulled out a knife from inside her booth and swallowed the gum in her mouth. No way she was going to look that square in the streets. She had her own reputation too!

An hour later, Sir Pentious loudly cleared his throat, right outside the changing room.

"Are you perhaps done, miss Cherri?" called.

"Yeah, yeah, I am done!" Cherri finished fixing her tall ponytail in front of the mirror and came out, kicking the doors open. "Ready now, boss!" announced, standing up on her modified uniform. "I made it more my style, hope that is okay" said with a smirk.

Her now better suited suit revealed her mid rift with turn edges, one of the sleeves cut to reveal her arm where she had her favorite tattooes. The pants were cut until they were short shorts, letting her to still sport her red boots. Sir Pentious stared at her from the bottom to the top. By the way he swallowed up and had to turn his eyes away, blushing until his face was almost completely pink, Cherri had now the confirmation that he was definitely not gay.

"That… that iss very creative" said Sir Pentious, looking at everything around her before her, scratching his neck. "Is, I mean, iss that, you think, going to help you to work?"

"It will make it easier for me" admitted Cherri. "But you are the boss, so you tell me if I should put more on."

"Uhm…" Sir Pentious coughed into his hand, his eyes travelling around. Even the one on his hat was fixated on the ceiling. "Your comfort iss rather important. I can't expect my minionss to work at their besst if they don't feel at their besst! So… do what allowss you that!"

"Oh" said with a teasing smile. "So this is what you like, boss?"

"Uh?" said Pentious, staring at her. At her eyes, confused. "Ssure? But ass long you wear the uniform and do my evil betting, that iss fine enough. I am nothing but a reasonable mastermind, after all!"

Cherri arched an eyebrow, but shrugged it off. Maybe he was just containing himself for this being the very first day. Old men like him probably didn't believe on fucking in the first date either. But he could't be that much of a prude either or he wouldn't have end up in the same place as her, right?

"So? What do you want to do today?" asked, hoping to finally know what this job actually entailed. The description on the newspaper was purely "assistant to future Overlord" and since then Pentious haven't really gone out of his way to clarify any specific labor. At the very least she wanted something more exciting than just answering calls, budgetting or something boring like that.

"A test run, of course!" Pentious slithered his way to the entrance and grabbed a megaphone nearby. Cherri covered her ears, but the noise of feedback still came out loud and clear before his came through. "Attention, all minions, present yourself on the lobby immediately! We are going to go to a currently on going turf war on the east side of the city and we are going to win it, in the name of your future Overlord!"

A sound of quirky voices all came running from the top of the stairs. Predictably, on their hurry many of the eggboys slipped up and came rolling down easily to land on the soft carpet that received them in the end. Cherri wondered if the carpet was there exactly for that purpose. From there, the eggboys stand up and all saluted to Pentious, ready to get their orders.

"Excellent! You see, miss Cherri Bomb, this is the kind of disposition that I will need if I am to conquer a portion of hell for myself" said the snake proudly, patting the head of the minions. "Now, prepare my flying ship!"

As soon as he said it, the group dispersed again. Cherri looked at Pentious, crossing her arms over her chest.

"So… what I should do then?" asked, when the man wasn't saying it.

"Oh?" Pentious blinked at her. "Come with us?"

"And do what?"

"Do my evil betting?"

"Which is?"

"Kill everyone until I win?"

"Ah, well. That I can do" said Cherri, opening up her coat at her waist, full of hanging bombs ready to use. Pentious looked at them, still partially covered by her legs, and swallowed, looking away. "How many deads? Do you mind if they aren't recognizable anymore? Do you need them complete?"

"Uhm" Pentious cleared his throat, regaining his posturing. "As many as demonly possible. No, I don't mind the state of their bodies after we are done with them. Just have them eliminated from my way is all I need."

"You got it, old man" Cherri smirked. At the very least she could have some fun doing that. "I will expect my pay by the end of it" said, turning around before he could respond so she could wait them all outside and Sir Pentious didn't remind him this was supposed to be a test run, not the actual hiring.

Alright. If Cherri had to admit it, it was kinda fun.

By the end, though, Pentious was so impressed with the amount of bodies and the remaining survivors running away that he didn't say anything about officially hiring her. Cherri herself was actualy a bit surprised about how easy it was when she was assisting the one with the massive weapons of destruction rather than obstructing him. She looked at the tank from which the torso of Sir Pentious came out, laughing maniacally to whoever could be left to listen to him. Which at that point was only her and the rest of her new coworkers, but he didn't seem to mind anyway.

"How about we go out to eat and celebrate?" proposed Cherri as soon Sir Pentious stopped to breath. She kicked out of the way the head of someone landing near by. "Your treat, of course, boss. You gotta keep the morale of the team high and everyone could do with some food, right?" added, directing a pointing gesture to the eggboys closer to her and they perked up, more than glad to give support.

"Yes, high morale! We need that!"

"We are so depressed and down!" said another happily.

"Food often contain enough microplastics to contaminate the ocean!"

"Yeah!" encouraged Cherri, patting the top of that last one. "This guy knows what he is talking about! We need those delicious microplastics, boss!"

Sir Pentious took around to the utter destruction around him and then at all his little minion, expectantly getting around him with their usual smiles. Finally to Cherri, but his eyes lasted less time over her even if the one on his hat lingered.

"Very well" said Sir Pentious, crossing his arms as if he was taking a stand against a wave of request. "I guess we did earned a little celebration after our victory and it would reflect poorly on me as your brave leader if I didn't reward you accordingly."

"Exactly!" Cherri jumped to the entrance of the tank, crouching to tower over the serpent man. She smiled down to him, crinkling the sides of her eye. "Follow me in your wheels, old man. I know the perfect place for us to have a great time" said with a grin, before jumping with a flip back to the ground. "It's not far from here, I think!"

"Wait! We need to give the finishing touch to commemorate the ocassion!" said Sir Pentious, stopping her mid crossing the street. He got back into the tank again and pulled out what looked to be like a stick for her. Sir Pentious pulled himself out the tank, clumsilly ending up in the ground on his desire to come out quick and then ran to a pile of bodies. "I declare this battle won by Sir Pentious, future Technology Overlord, and his loyal minions!"

He then implanted the stick onto the body closest to him, from which a green flag extended with a picture of Sir Pentious trying to look cool making finger guns. Cherri thought to herself she definitely needed to have him have that thing changed. Not all the money in hell was going to make it worth to be associated with such a dorky ass branding. But they could see about that later.

For now, she was hungry.

The perfect place in question was one of her favorite pizza joints in all of hell. It was greasy, stuffy, the bathrooms were never to be used by anything with a conscience and there was more than a few obvious violation to health regulation that could crawl on the ground or between their feet. But they had the best fries that Cherri had ever tried and their beer was always the right level of cold. One could always forgive a few cockroaches if at least the drink was worth it. It's not like they were going to die from whatever they caught there.

When they brouht the biggest pizza they had to their joined tables, Cherri grabbed the biggest slice she could and took the first bite. Oh, this was absolutely terrible for her. There was no way this was healthy in any universe. It was absolutely perfect.

"So?" asked, casually pressing her chest against the arm of Sir Pentious on the table. He had taken his own slice, holding it under a bunch of napkins, but froze with his mouth half open at the contact. The rest of the eggbois could not care less about their interaction even if they were ordered to it. "What do you think, boss? You believe we can make a good match after all?"

Sir Pentious became a brigh pink and tried to clear his throat. Unfortunately he went too hard on it and the attempt somehow resulted on him having to cough on his hand before ever managing to get a word out.

"I mean!" said finally, with a squeaky voice, before trying again, his eyes looking up to the ceiling. "I-I believe you are… a more than acceptable asset to my team of evil doers. The ruthleness and quick thinking you owed today in the battle ground was certainly impressive. It would be frankly foolish of me to not take the opportunity to accept you in my ranks. So, consider yourself permanently hired for as long you want to work under me."

Cherri blinked, actually surprised at the compliment. She would have expect him to try to hide it all under some "but I am still the mastermind here, don't forget it" bullshit, rather than just say it. Most of the boss she ever had since landing on hell, or even before that, would have done as much. You don't want an employee to really start thinking that they aren't replaceable, after all. Maybe Sir Pentious just never learned that, surrounded by the eggs that would follow anywhere without question no matter how they were treated.

She snorted, patting his back. Maybe he didn't have what it took to be an overlord, but at least he could be easy to deal with.

"Smart choice, old man" praised, straighten up again. "After this, we get dessert, don't we? You can't just have something like this for dinner. That can bring out the depression again, and we don't want that, do we?" asked, smirking to the closest eggboi to her.

"No, we don't!" supported the creature instantly.

Cherri chuckled. These little guys were so much better than she thought before. Sir Pentious sighed, as if he was already expecting the question.

"Of course" said, resigned to his fate and Cherri took a drink of her beer, sideyeing him for a bit.

Oh, that man had no idea how much she was going to exploit him. No idea at all. But well, what other thing could he ever expect from hell?

As the night fell, with an ice cream in hand, Cherri patted the eggbois closer to her. They all had their treats in hand, whike Sir Pentious came out the place they came out with a single ball of ice cream and saving his wallet back into his pocket with a slight frown. Before he could save it entirely, Cherri decided to take her chance.

"So?" said, offering her open hand to the man.

Instead of putting there the fat stack of money she expected, he took her hand on his and shook it gently, slowly.

"It was an honor working with you today, miss Cherri" said and Cherri looked up to see he actually seemed sincere. That ennerved her a little more than she cared to admit. Why did he have to be so weird about everything? "I hope to see you again tomorrow so we get to talk about strategies for greater attacks."