#she's only 8 rn but she's eventually going to have a realization arc in later chapters

[accidentalnewsiesblog]

“The King of Brooklyn” and other monikers (Chapter 3)

yee yee it’s chapter three also read on ao3

1892

~3900 words

TW: deadnaming; references to abuse; smoking; canon-typical violence; panic attack

The Prince of Brooklyn

~~~

Yet another successful day at the racetrack came to a close for Spot and Tony. Not only were the illustrations of the Sunday paper an attractive draw to customers, but the whole city was talking about a murder that had happened in Massachusetts. All a newsie had to do was say the name “Borden” and the pape was all but sold.

It wasn’t even suppertime by the time Spot and Tony began the walk back toward the lodging house so Tony could catch the last carriage back to Manhattan. Coins jingled in their pockets as they walked, the promise of a splurge on candy or cigarettes.

“Who d’ya think did it?” Tony asked suddenly.

“Did what?”

Tony laughed, incredulous. “‘Did what?’ Whattaya think? The Borden murders! Who do you think did it?”

“Oh!” Spot had all but forgotten the headline. Her mind had already moved on to thoughts of how to spend the extra money she’d earned. “I dunno. Who do you think did it?”

Tony shook his head. “My money’s on the uncle.”

“The uncle? Don’t the cops think the daughter did it?”

“Ain’t no dame coulda done that! You read the description of the bodies in the pape?”

Spot had not read about the murders, as much as she had wanted to know all the gory details. She had only heard comments in passing about the Bordens having been hacked to death in their own home. “Did you read the pape? There’s stuff that don’t line up ‘bout the daughter’s story!”

“You think a lady coulda taken an axe to her parents in broad daylight? You think you could chop up your family like that?”

Spot knew she could never. Not even Mum. Even so, she responded, “Maybe on a bad day. Couldn’t you?”

Tony nodded but didn’t elaborate. “Well, you ain’t a normal lady. You dame newsies is basically boys, anyway.”

Spot laughed. “Don’t say that around some of the other girls. You’d have to high-tail it back to Manhattan explainin’ how you got a black eye from a lady.”

He chuckled, pulling a cigar from his pocket. He patted around his pants and bag, his brow furrowing. “Did I give you my matches?”

Spot searched her pockets and bag, but found nothing. She shook her head.

“Damn!” Tony turned and looked back toward the racetrack. “I must have dropped them. Damn!” he swore again. “Can we stop somewhere and I can get more?”

She shrugged. “Sure.”

“You see a drugstore anywhere?”

Spot looked around. They were far enough from the racetrack to be in a more residential area of Brooklyn, an area Spot suddenly recognized.

“Ah…” She pointed off down a familiar road toward where she believed was a pharmacy. “There?” And then Tony was brazenly striding through Midwood before Spot could react. “Wait, wait!” She jogged to keep up with him, suddenly paranoid that the brownstones lining the road had eyes.

Spot had been right about the pharmacy. The white storefront with green letters reading “O’Mara’s” and tall windows revealing jars of candy had normally been a welcome sight, but Spot was too anxious wandering around Midwood to find pleasure in it.

As Tony searched up and down shelves for matches, Spot hardly blinked, looking over her shoulder every other moment. She was hyperaware of every noise and movement she saw out of the corner of her eye.

“Ha!” Spot jumped out of her skin. Tony was squatting in front of a shelf, grabbing a box of matches and standing. He looked at her, but his smile quickly turned to concern. “Are you all right? You look like a rabbit in a snare.”

Spot shuddered, not realizing she had been holding her breath. “I… I’m fine. Let’s go.”

“Fine, let’s go.” Tony pocketed the matches and started toward the door.

Spot put her hand out to stop him. “You can’t take that.”

“What?”

Spot pointed over her shoulder at the distracted man working the counter. “You can’t steal that. You gotta pay. He’s got a family to feed.”

“How would you know if he’s got a family? Why do you care?”

Spot didn’t want to talk about it and gave in. She felt like she was going to throw up. “Fine. Fine!” She started toward the door, her head ducked so as not to make eye contact with anyone, especially not Mr. O’Mara.

This time it was Tony’s turn to jog to keep up. The bell on the door jingled twice as the kids left one after the other. Spot could have sworn she saw Mr. O’Mara look up at them, halfway waving at her.

Spot didn’t stop walking until she was blocks away. She breathed deeply, trying to calm her frantic heartbeat and churning stomach.

“What the hell?” Tony panted as he slowed to a stop, hands on his hips and coughing. “Ya gotta warn a guy before ya make him run two damn miles!”

“It weren’t two miles!” Spot snapped. Tony’s glare softened, and Spot looked away. “I’m sorry.”

“What’s goin’ on? You been on edge all day.”

Spot shook her head. “It ain’t important.”

“It is! You ain’t actin’ normal! Tell me what’s goin’ on!”

“Shut up!” Spot could feel tears welling up in her eyes. Tony was being too loud and was calling attention to them, attention Spot was actively trying to avoid. “Shut up!” she hissed, much quieter than before.

Tony didn’t listen. “Spot! What’s wrong?”

Over Tony’s shoulder Spot saw a group of tall boys coming around the corner. They wore caps like Spot’s and carried canvas bags. Overcome with dread, Spot turned her back, but not before she made eye contact with the shortest and stockiest of the motley crew, a mean and hotheaded newsie called Tomcat.

Tony grabbed her arm as she turned. “Spottie!”

“Dottie!” came Tomcat’s voice, and Spot cringed. “Been a while, wouldn’t ya say?”

She steeled her nerves then turned to face them. Spot hadn’t seen Tomcat’s gang since she worked for the Journal, almost three years ago. He was probably around twelve now, but his gang was usually comprised of dumb and brawny kids older than he was. While his gang had grown in number and height, Tomcat himself had only grown in width and arrogance. Spot knew he could knock her out with one punch. He’d done it before.

She addressed him. “Tomcat.”

Tony turned to watch as Tomcat led his brick wall of backup toward the younger, smaller, and definitely scareder newsies.

“Look at this, boys! It seems little Dottie found herself a new gig!” Tomcat and his boys had run Spot out of the Journal, and so bumping into her after so long must have been quite the laugh for them. “So, what are you sellin’ on street corners nowadays, Dot?”

“None of your business,” she quipped back, immediately regretting showing her hand and letting him get to her.

“Oh! She wants to play this game!” Tomcat turned to his chuckling gang.

“I don’t want to play any game. We was just leavin’.” Spot grabbed Tony by the wrist and pulled him away, but Tomcat was relentless.

“Come on, Dottie! You haven’t even introduced us to your boyfriend!” He grabbed Tony’s shoulder. “Where are your manners?”

Tony shook Tomcat’s hand from his shoulder and lightly pushed him away. Spot’s grip tightened on his wrist. He had no idea who he was dealing with, and Spot didn’t want him to have to find out.

Tomcat was a bully and his favorite was when kids would cry. Spot refused to ever give him the satisfaction, but she was already so close to tears she knew she would either cry or punch Tomcat in the face. She didn’t know which option would be worse in the long run.

“We’re going.” Spot tugged again on Tony’s wrist. “Didn’t mean to bother you.”

“Spot,” Tony whispered, barely audible, but Tomcat caught it.

“They don’t call you Dot anymore? Shame!” He threw an arm around her shoulders, and Spot lost her grip on her friend. “Spot sounds like a dog’s name. I guess that’s fitting for a bitch like you.”

Spot saw red. She shoved Tomcat with all her strength as Tony at the same moment punched him in the nose. Tomcat stumbled backward and fell flat on his ass, his face scrunched up from the shocking pain and embarrassment.

Tony and Spot had the same brilliant idea at the same time: Run. Spot grabbed his hand and bolted, already two blocks away before she heard Tomcat screaming at his gang to follow them and kick their asses.

Spot led them through Midwood, navigating familiar alleyways and fire escapes until they arrived in Prospect Park. They skidded to a stop next to a tall oak that Spot swiftly scaled, Tony at her heels. She stopped around halfway up and caught her breath as Tony settled on a nearby branch. The adrenaline in Spot’s veins was no longer from fear, but exhilaration. She had fought with Tomcat and escaped without a scratch, and Tony had stuck with her.

They locked eyes as they tried to steady their breathing, and Spot laughed. It began as a whispery chuckle, but it grew heartier and clearer until it turned into a teary cackle, a confusing release of emotions Spot had been repressing since the beginning of their adventure into Midwood. Tony laughed also, partially from excitement and partially in response to Spot’s uncontrollable sobs of laughter.

He lit his cigar with his new matches as Spot quieted and wiped the tears from her face. Tony looked at her with a mixture of concern and genuine hurt. “You all right?”

She shrugged. “Tomcat’s a jerk.”

Tony nodded and took a drag. A silence settled over the two that spoke more truth than the young kids knew how to articulate.

Tomcat was a jerk and his bullying hurt Spot more than she let on.

Watching his friend become the target of Tomcat’s unkindness angered Tony in a surprisingly passionate fashion, so much so that he’d punched a boy clearly years his senior for calling her names. He knew Spot could take care of herself, but nonetheless his instinct to hurt someone who hurt his friend was too sudden and strong to resist. Of course, Tony wanted to know the story behind Tomcat’s cruel teasing, but he was smart enough to respect Spot’s privacy and keep quiet.

He didn’t ask, but Spot knew she could trust him. She thought he had the right to know why Tomcat’s comments got to her like they did.

“I used to work with him at the Journal.” Spot hadn’t ever told Tony much about her life before she started living in the lodging house and working for the World. He listened intently as she continued, “He and his jerk friends were… just mean. That was the first place I worked and I still dressed…” She gestured to her clothes. “Like a girl. I still looked like a girl. I had long hair and wore dresses instead of pants.”

Tony tried to imagine, but the thought was so foreign he couldn’t wrap his mind around it.

Spot kept on. “Made me an easy target. A tiny five-year-old girl newsie with blonde braids that dressed like a dame and didn’t know how to throw a punch.”

He nodded. “Your name is Dot?”

“Used to be.” Spot sniffed. “Dorothy. My grandma’s name.”

“Why’d you change it?”

She shrugged. “Started working at the World and didn’t want to be seen like a girl anymore. Dot is obviously a girl’s name. Spot sounds kind of the same but more like a boy.” She scoffed. “And come on, I got a sense of humor. But the guys at the lodge don’t care if you’re a girl anyway. There’s lots of girls workin’ at the World.���

Tony paused. “You were five when you started sellin’?”

Spot looked up at him. The cigar was smoldering in his hand, ash falling as Tony stared. He was entirely engrossed, paying no attention to the still-burning cigar. Spot reached forward and took it.

She shrugged in response to his question as she took a drag. It was a Capadura, and the smoke burned her mouth not only from the heat but also the sharp peppery taste. The spice of it added a kick to the aroma of dark chocolate in the smoke, which made Capadura cigars Spot’s favorite. They were among the milder cigars Tony enjoyed, but even so, Spot coughed and passed it back to him.

“Why?”

Spot felt her face grow warm. She had already gotten so personal, she wasn’t sure she wanted to go much further in telling her story. “What’s it to you?” she spat, much harsher than she’d intended.

Tony’s eyes grew wide in response to the offense he must have caused her. “Nothin’!” He snuffed out the cigar and continued, “You don’t gotta tell me if you don’t want…” He trailed off in thought and bobbed his head as he considered how to proceed. “Ma was having a baby and Pop works at a slaugherhouse, so they said I had to find work or go live with my uncle in Maryland since we don’t got a lot of money. That was only last year so it just surprised me when you said you been sellin’ for three years.”

“It’s fine. I get it.” Spot shifted on the branch. “My pa died when I was five. Evan was almost three so Mum stayed home during the day and worked at night. Bridget took a job sewing in a factory but I was too little, so I started selling papes for the Journal.”

Spot hadn’t ever told Tony very much about her family, so he could only assume that Evan and Bridget were her siblings. “You see your family anymore?”

Spot snorted. “That’s a laugh. I ran away. I don’t want to see them and they don’t want to see me.” Mum had come looking for her once before. Only once. She had come banging on the lodging house door just before dark, but Mrs. Kirby had turned her away, citing no presence of a “Dorothy Connell” in the house. Spot had hidden on the stairs throughout the whole thing, basically in tears.

Tony didn’t press further. The sun was low in the sky, the day was almost over. The last carriage across the bridge would be leaving soon. Spot sighed and began the descent toward solid ground. Tony dropped to the ground just after. Spot led the meandering walk through the park, Tony following in silence.

They arrived at the lodging house twenty minutes later, most of the boys already returned from their days of selling. The clock on the wall read 6:10, enough time for the duo to eat supper and get Tony back to Manhattan.

“Conlon!” came a voice from the floor. Piker, a lanky eleven-year-old with a penchant for troublemaking, stood from her reading spot in the common area and bounded over, stealing Spot’s hat and ruffling her hair. “You’re home early!”

Spot grinned and grabbed at her hat, but Piker, ever the teasing older sibling, held it out of reach, forcing Spot to jump for it. Then Piker bolted down the stairs toward the basement, Spot and Tony following close behind. As Spot rounded the corner at the bottom of the stairs, the cap collided with her face, Piker’s laugh growing dimmer as she ran down the length of the dining area. Hat in hand, Spot chased her, cackling as she ran with wild abandon under tables and between the legs of older newsies to tackle Piker.

As Tony caught up, the older newsie stood, pulling the squealing Spot onto her back as she approached the line for food. Spot picked her food from Piker’s back, Tony dutifully collecting her order and carrying the tray to a table. Spot and Tony always shared when they ate at the lodging house, since Spot was the only one who actually paid to be there. Tony offered to pay her back the first time, but Spot insisted, claiming that she never ate all the food they offered anyway. Not that there was an abundance of food on the plate. Spot just said what she knew would make Tony shut up and eat, since she had a feeling he wouldn’t be having a decent meal otherwise.

Tonight they shared potatoes, pot roast, and something that looked to be green beans. It all tasted generally the same, but the kids were grateful to eat something hot. They sat with Piker and a couple of the older newsies, laughing at their jokes and listening intently to their stories.

“How was the racetrack, Racetrack?” Piker asked as Tony took a large bite of potato.

Still not quite used to the nickname, Tony didn’t look up from the plate. Spot had to elbow him to get his attention, and Tony almost choked as he tried to answer. “Good!” he tried to say through a mouthful of food.

Piker barked a laugh as Spot rolled her eyes. “Gross! Don’t get potatoes on the table!”

“Lay off him, Spot!” Piker fired back. “He’s enjoying his dinner! Unlike you! You’ve hardly eaten!”

It was true. Spot had only picked at her food. “Not real hungry.”

“I am,” called Hank as he slid down the bench, aiming his fork at Spot’s plate.

She met his fork with her own, a metallic clink stopping Hank from stealing her food. “I ain’t hungry now, doesn’t mean I won’t be later.”

Hank backed off, mumbling something about leftovers.

“Spot!”

She turned over her shoulder toward the stairs where Shiner was standing. Her face fell. He didn’t look happy. Shiner jerked his head toward the stairs as he ducked out of sight, indicating she should follow him. A chorus of “ooh” rose from the table, to which Spot responded for them to shut it.

Shiner stood at the top of the stairs waiting, and then led her up the next flight and the next to the third floor. She followed him down the hallway, past the large barrack where a couple boys were already sleeping and toward the wing of private rooms. They were more expensive than the barracks and bunks, and so only the older newsies and best sellers rented the private rooms. Being the so-called King of Brooklyn, Shiner had a private room on the end of the hall across from a type of hospital room where kids went when they were sick. Spot followed Shiner into his room, and he closed the door behind them. Spot crossed her arms over her chest, leaning against a dresser, her back toward the window.

“What happened?” Shiner was intense, as though he were a pot about to boil over. “What happened today?”

“Nothin’. Tony and I—”

“I got word that you punched Tomcat?”

“I…” She hadn’t — that had been Tony — but she decided to take the blame for it anyway. “Yeah, I punched Tomcat.”

Shiner nodded and sat down on the bed. “So what happened?”

“He just… showed up out of nowhere and started being… you know how he is…”

“I know how he is. Why were you around him in the first place?”

“We… got lost.” It wasn’t quite a lie, but it also wasn’t quite the truth. Shiner gave her a look that conveyed his disbelief that Spot could have gotten lost going to or from the racetracks, a path she walked every day. “We stopped to get some matches and then ran into him outside the drugstore.”

Shiner shook his head. “You were deep in Midwood. That’s way off the path for you.”

Spot’s heart skipped. “How’d you know where it happened?”

“A little birdie told me.” Of course. One of Shiner’s informants must have seen it happen or heard about it through the grapevine. “Why were you so far in Midwood?”

Spot was tired of avoiding the truth. Shiner was as close to being Spot’s friend as he was anyone else’s. She knew she could trust him with her life, and he already knew so much that it didn’t make sense to keep secrets. “We was at a drugstore I used to go to when I lived there. Mr. O’Mara’s. He lived downstairs from my family. I… didn’t want to talk to him and so I ran away and we ended up way far off the path.”

Shiner sat his hand on his chin. “Tomcat’s pissed.”

“He shouldn’t have been a jerk,” Spot quipped under her breath.

Shiner spun to face her so quickly it startled her. “I don’t care if he was being a jerk. I can’t afford you running around punching our own, even if they deserve it. You gotta be more… diplomatic.”

Spot wasn’t quite sure what he meant. He ran a hand through his hair and continued, “I… know that you’re young, and you’re proud, but there are big things ahead for you. Tiny and I have been talking, and we both think that once you’re older, you’re going to make a great leader.”

Spot was shocked. She thought she’d come in to be chewed out, but Shiner had become much more sincere than she had ever seen him. “What do you mean?”

“Tiny’s my second, yeah? But once I’m out and he’s in, we think you should be next in line.”

Spot didn’t respond. Shiner was fifteen, which meant that at most he had around four or five more years as a newsie. Tiny was thirteen, so he would probably have around two years after Shiner left. If each of them lasted as long as they could as “King,” Spot would take the mantle at age fourteen. That was so far away, yet the older boys had already singled her out as a potential leader.

Shiner could sense that Spot was becoming overwhelmed. “You don’t have to be thinking about that right now. That’s a long way off. But you’re a great newsie. You know the business already. And I’ve been watching you teachin’ Racetrack. You’re a born leader. You care so much about the other kids, and everyone respects you. You are such a smart kid.” Spot smiled at the compliment but shook her head. “Don’t be humble. You’re smarter than me and Tiny put together. It’s a right shame you’re here and not using that genius brain for something bigger than sellin’ papes.”

He patted a spot on the corner of the bed, and Spot took the opportunity to sit. “It’s not something you need to be thinking about right now. That’s far off. But you get why I can’t have someone who’s supposed to be a leader runnin’ around punching people. Makes us look… rash. And you’re too damn smart to make rash decisions.” He reached out and ruffled her hair. “And just know that if you need anything to find me or Tiny. If Tomcat did something that really deserves a soakin’ we can take care of it in other ways, yeah?”

Spot nodded. “I’ll do better.”

He smiled and nudged her arm. “That’s our girl.” He stood and said, “It’s almost seven. Let’s get Racetrack back across the bridge.”

As they walked with Tony to catch the last carriage to Manhattan, Spot wanted nothing more than to tell him everything Shiner had said, but with the older newsie on their tails she thought it best to wait. She waved to him and watched his carriage disappear into the crowd, reminding herself that she still had years before she had to think about the big news she’d learned.

The future King of Brooklyn walked back to the lodging house with the current one, both silently contemplating the responsibility that comes with the title, a future responsibility about which Spot was tentatively optimistic.

~~~

just some angst featuring bullies and deadnaming no i’m not projecting what are you talking about anyway thanks for reading i’ll love you forever if you give me feedback/comments/likes

[creacherkeeper]

How is the cowboi doing? :) I’d love to hear about some of their recent adventures.

OH WELL IT'S ME + ALSO MY DICE HATE(/love) ME SO YOU KNOW THEYRE GETTING WHUMPED CONSTANTLY LMAO

there have certainly been some Events Unfolding so those are under the cut, casey since youre in our campaign now NO PEEKING

fair warning this is .... long ..... you have asked me to talk about my dnd character and you simply CANNOT stop the floodwaters now. enter at your own risk

okay so basically the first arc of the campaign kind of kicked off with them getting a vision from their goddess (the grain goddess/goddess of agriculture) saying that she was trapped in a fey gate and that they needed to come rescue her

so erley immediately Rallied The Posse and set off to do that. they NUMEROUS times tried to pray to her, commune with her, basically just get ANY sort of communication or guidance from her, but the dice like to tell their story so i literally never got above an 11 (paladin with only +2 to religion my beloved) and they never heard from her, which was making them. pretty nervous. when it seemed like everyone else was able to talk to their gods just fine

well we eventually figured out that there was a huge gathering of fey in the woods (me: this might be too big for us to fight. what if its like 30 fey? / my dm, glancing at his notes where he has 2000 fey written down: (: ) and basically the fey like. had captured and were trying to kill what was left of the pantheon so they could bring back gaia as the One True God

we found all this out because it turned out several members of the party had been lying about how much they knew of the fey and had personal connections to the fey they'd kept hidden. and erley, who is ALSO HIDING A LOT from the party like. immediately went on the offense and was just generally very unhappy about this

there had been this fey merchant who kept popping up wherever we were trying to sell us magic weapons that seemed tied to us specifically. erley was always VERY suspicious of her and did everything in their power to stop the others from buying her weapons (which we literally had to buy with -5 to a skill point, not money, v sus) to mixed results. but basically when we got to the fey gathering (we called it gaiapalooza) erley rolled a 1 on their survival check to get through the magic field and like. got teleported to her. and they really wanted information from her so they basically were like LEORA I DONT KNOW WHO TO TRUST I THINK MY PARTY HAS BEEN LYING TO ME, CAN YOU TELL ME ANYTHING ABOUT THEM CAN YOU SEE US WHEN YOURE NOT THERE? and basically pretended to need a therapy session in order to milk her for information lmao. she also seemed like. REALLY interested in erley and i was also very nervous about that

and i was RIGHT to be suspicious of her because we found out she WAS ACTUALLY THE BIG BAD and we had to fight her in the arc finale. and several of our party members had rl stuff and were not there, and in game our druid was away casting an 8 hour long spell to try and stop the palooza ceremony, so our party was SUPER nerfed and also as soon as erley realized it WAS actually leora who was behind all of it and she WAS trying to hurt them with those weapons (the weapons were tethers to the gods to be able to kill them basically), they got .... a little angry

and my party found out after irl a year of playing these characters that erley's first level is barbarian :))

so erley raged and did frankly a staggering amount of damage in this fight, and also only stayed up because of rage because they took a LOT of hits. but also. they dont rage FOR A REASON so it sort of took them over and when leora dropped, one of the other pcs ran over to stabilize her as she was making death saves and erley :) maybe :) drove a spear through her heart and killed her :)

and her body immediately just like. overgrew with plants and vines and flowers and basically wrapped the spear in a bed of plants and it was very cinematic and cool

(we have since found out that leora was like. actually an aspect of gaia so. that is. interesting)

of course then erley popped out of rage and was like FUCK this is why i dont do this, i went too far, it always goes too far, THIS is why im ashamed of this, and just got very emo boi about it. so they used their last spell slot to cast restoration on the space they had fought in and reached out to their goddess, having just saved her and the rest of the pantheon like she had asked them to

and i rolled a nat 1!!!

(the dm was like "you have committed this violent act, you feel so low and so bad and in need of guidance, and reach out to your goddess. and the absolute lack of a response just makes you feel empty inside" and i was like :) oh :) okay cool :) you love to see that with your paladins huh)

at this point the druid came back in and, instead of erley like. examining any of their own shit immediately lashed out at her and was like "why did you lie to me about the fey, why did you lie about why you were here, why ARE you here because i realize now it wasnt to help me"

and at that point ONE OF THE FEY QUEENS WALKED IN and the druid was like "... mother ..." and we were all :O

so it turns out the fey queen is her birth mom but had like? kidnapped one of the children of her firbolg tribe and was holding her hostage and the druid was on a quest to find her and bring her back

so erley :) felt :) even more bad about that :) and very shamedly pledged their help to her, and basically was like "as long as youre on this noble quest i will follow you if you'll have me"

so we're on our second arc now, which is traveling across the country to go meet the fey queen and get this kid back. as we were traveling my dm had me roll religion and a luck check and i got a 21 ON RELIGION FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER and a 6 luck. and he was like "you dont usually dream, but you have a nightmare. you know this nightmare was given to you, it was divinely inspired, but you dont know who sent it" and it was just erley killing leora over and over and over again. so they were like. well fuck

(my dm also messaged me privately and we talked and he was like. yeah you can get rid of your oath of devotion and change it to oath of the ancients, i am not telling you or erley why the subclass has changed and you also might get nerfed later. also level up barbarian for the next fight)

so erley was. feeling PRETTY DANG BAD and very guilty and stressed and all that. they did also realize their barbarian side was getting stronger which, considering their backstory is all tragic barbarian shit they were NOT happy about. i was fully prepared to have them be more ostracized from the party and go into full angst mode, but then the druid actually like. pulled them aside and explained why she had hidden information from them, and had a very sweet conversation with them and held their hand and it was VERY touching (she also had the baller line "you think your goddess can hear you and she's not answering. but maybe you're talking in a whisper and she needs to hear you scream")

we had another fight (we're level 7 and my dm told us after it was a cr 32 fight like. dude??? what the fuck?????) and once again erley didnt go down only because of rage

THEY ALSO UNINTENTIONALLY CAST MISTY STEP (which is an ancients spell they didnt have before) and were like WELL NO TIME TO UNPACK WHAT THAT WAS RIGHT NOW, HAVE TO NOT DIE

after the battle was over i asked to roll a check to figure out why i had access to that spell and got :) yeah you guessed it :) another nat 1 :) so erley has literally no idea how they cast that or what it could mean. we just had a new pc introduced who is a sorcerer so erley is definitely going to talk to her and see if she knows anything. because they are FULLY IN THE DARK about their subclass change or what that means in game

we're also (because of the fucking cr 32 fight) going to be leveling up again soon, and babey you KNOW im leveling barbarian. after rage kept me up and then rolling another nat 1 religion check, and also me the player not knowing whats up with their goddess/magic, i simply cant level paladin rn. so im BETWEEN A FEW SUBCLASS OPTIONS and ive been thinking them over but i think it really depends how the next few games go

my FULL ANGST option was to make them level into zealot barbarian like their awful dad, but i thought that made the least sense in universe rn

secondary angst option is to level into berserker, which i think fits pretty closely with how i've been roleplaying the rage so far. trading off an extra attack for a level of exhaustion fits pretty closely. also whump central

the NICE option is to have them be a totem warrior barbarian, and have both their paladin steed and their totem be a bull :) (they are a cowboi after all) i think thats the closest i can marry their two classes and potentially have some healthy growth for them, let them see that the rage doesnt HAVE to be a bad thing, that being a barbarian isnt something they HAVE to be ashamed of. reskinning the bear totem would give them resistance to all damage but psychic while raging, and im planning on taking the tough feat, so theyd pretty much be ... an unstoppable tank. plus i can still divine smite while in rage so theyd be VERY powerful

and now youre all caught up on my very special boi :))))) bet you didnt expect quite that much of an infodump but. listen. listen im simply obsessed with dnd i cannot help it. any chance to talk about my characters i WILL TAKE IN A HEARTBEAT (thank u for prompting my ramble lmao)

[dreamautonomy]

Thank you, thank you for the tag @fanarain. I took my time with this. I swear, I got to find a tag game to share with my followers and those I follow. @dreamautonomy needs more love and activity. 😭

I will answer questions about @dreamautonomy (my main that’s not officially a main) and @defectiveconantoy (my more popular Tumblr).

1. Why did you choose your url? I came up with the name Dream Autonomy waaaaay back in 2008. At the time, I was inspired by Kazimierz Dąbrowski's theory of positive disintegration (TPD), where he explained that one must go through anxiety and psychological tension to achieve autonomy and true individuality. In my teens, I dreamt of independence and autonomy, to live on my own terms and break away from society’s rat race. I still do to this day.

For my DCMK stuff, I’ve considered the name Conanology, but someone on Twitter took it. I wanted something witty. Then, I stumbled upon that Reddit post with the counterfeit Conan and Ayumi action figures. They looked so ridiculous and badly made it’s almost a joke. The thread’s first comment: perfect as a funny username. Unfortunately, defectiveconan was already taken here, so I settled with defectiveconantoy (also nicknamed by me as DFCT - DeFective Conan Toy) instead.

2. Any side blogs? @relaxwithanime because there’s a lot of relaxing anime, and I want to showcase relaxing anime scenes. @sillydogpictures, which has no posts. I wanted to show pictures of dogs with intentionally or unintentionally silly faces. 🐶

3. How long have you been on tumblr? It’s complicated! I began lurking back in 2010 or 2011 but didn’t create an account until 2014 with the original dreamautonomy, now the defunct @olddreamautonomy. I never used it until mid or late 2020.

I made @defectiveconantoy back in October 2020 because I considered participating in the DCMK Secret Santa event. I eventually decided not to, as I was busy with school and coping with the pandemic. I didn’t need more deadlines then.

4. Do you have a queue tag? Nope! I should make one once I learn how.

5. Why did you start your blog in the first place? I planned to use @dreamautonomy as a creative blog for posting photography, graphic design, food and travel stuff, motivational stuff, and more. Never happened!

DFCT was made for Detective Conan and Magic Kaito fandom stuff, nothing else.

Stupid me made @defectiveconantoy a completely separate account, even after realizing minutes later that I could have made it a side blog. Oh well! I mostly use Tumblr for fandom stuff nowadays, so I deleted my old Dream account and made a new account as a side blog under @defectiveconantoy. Now, I no longer have to use different apps and browsers for both blogs. Life is good!

6 . Why did you choose your icon/pfp? For Dream, I chose Retsuko from Aggretsuko. That scene wonderfully represents the agony of one’s twenties: working miserable jobs, not being taken seriously, and wishing life was more fulfilling than the average adult life. There she is being “one of us” on a Sunday by lying in bed and scratching her butt. 😂

And for DFCT, how could I not post action Conan from The Fist of Blue Sapphire with the counterfeit action figure’s head replacing the original Conan’s head? 🤣

7. Why did you choose your header? For Dream, because Retsuko’s bouncing her little tail off. For DFCT, because Ran is precious in that scene, all soft and shy.

8. What's your post with the most notes? @defectiveconantoy’s set of GIFs from the Ferris Wheel scene in the Episode ONE special. And that’s my original post. I’ve reblogged even more popular stuff by others.

9. How many mutuals do you have? About a dozen.

10. How many followers do you have? @dreamautonomy: 9 (Most are p*rn bots I’ve reported for spam and blocked. Have no idea WTF I did to attract them.). @defectiveconantoy: 175!! 😁

11. How many people do you follow? 72!

12. Have you ever made a shitpost? I don’t know. I think I only post relevant memes.

Here am I typing this after spending years confusing shitposts with really funny, sometimes offensive memes. I’m still confused about the meaning of a shitpost. I’m not very trend or meme savvy.

13. How often do you use tumblr each day? About 10-20 times a day, usually through my phone app.

14. Did you ever have a fight/argument with another blog once? Over ten years ago on websites that Tumblr, Twitter, etc. long replaced in popularity. Even then, I’ve usually been a lurker for most of my life and rarely engaged in arguments or debates. Whenever I did, I regret it to this day. I looked stupid (everyone did, actually). What a waste of time!

I wish I hadn’t forgotten about Detective Conan back in 2004. The DCMK Tumblr fandom is chill and AWESOME! I wonder what the fandom was like back in the 2000s.

15. How do you feel about "you need to reblog this" posts? Ehh…it depends. If it’s something most or everyone agrees with, I might reblog it. I don’t know about you, but such posts often bring the rebel in me. If you say, “REBLOG IT,” I say, “Ehh! Nope.” 😋 Anyway, life is short. I’d rather stick to fandom and humor, things that unite people and make them smile.

16. Do you like tag games? Of course! That’s how I get to know everyone. I should initiate tag games and tag all of you.

17. Do you like ask games? YES! I should start ask games as well.

18. Which of your mutuals do you think is [tumblr] famous? We interrupt this program to give mad props to that nicely formatted Tumblr logo-fied text. 👌

Aaaanyway, I won’t name names. Some are Tumblr famous for different reasons, and that’s what matters. We all contribute different things while being under the same main fandom, ships, arcs, and adaptations aside.

19. Do you have a crush on a mutual? No! Why ruin this nice little Tumblr space for drama? It’s not worth having a crush on people you’ve never met face-to-face imo. I’m not repeating my teenage mistakes.

20. Tags: anyone happy to participate! 😁

[shiredwarf]

24 hours later: i'm still outraged as ever & i've found a couple of new things to be outraged about that i somehow just missed yesterday. which is understandable. hard to keep track of all the fuck ups!

what was the point of euron fighting jaime? also how did they even end up together? that was another case of characters just conveniently appearing at the right time at the right location (which is like euron’s mine character trait at this point: randomly showing up without any real reason just to fuck shit up in the most annoying way possible). Also: why didn't Jaime just go for this route the first time around?! he might have even made it in time. why is euron so obsessed with killing jaime? why is euron in general? what's his point? was he ever meant to be anything but a cheap plot device? everyone deserved better than this

the fact that the unsullied officers just left tyrion with jaime no questions asked is probably the dumbest moment of the entire episode. dany has often and loudly questions tyrion's loyalty but nothing suspicious about tyrion (THE HAND OF THE QUEEN) wanting to stand guard outside the tent and sending everyone else away. like what's he gonna do? free the person he clearly loves most in the world with a key that just magically appeared in his hand while davos somehow sneaks past the entire greyjoy fleet to leave a boat at the foot of the red keep? naaah (how did davos get back from there btw? did he tow another boat? was he not alone? why am i even trying to make sense of this we all know this plot was written on a piece of toilet paper)

and what's with dany never learning of jaime's escape?! someone must have checked on such a high profile prisoner in the morning? someone must have noticed and told dany who just hours ago threatened tyrion with death should he ever betray her. why did noone come up with the idea to use jaime as a hostage??? but guess everyone just forgot about him, just like the writers forgot about his arc :))))))))))))))))))

where did all the dothraki come from? why are there still so many unsullied left? it sure looked like 90% of them died in winterfell. then we see a significant number in episode five and in the trailer for episode 6 it looks like thousands??? do they just respawn? are we following video game logic now? (btw remember when soldiers had actual personalities? when was the last time an unsullied beside grey worm or a dothraki did anything to remind us they're more than npcs. what do they think about all of this? what did they think about the army of the dead? how are they coping? why was everyone suddenly ok with senseless violence against children even though dany has been saying for years she doesn't want that. yeah sure, she started the kings landing BBQ but she was in a completely different part of the city. there was no way for the foot soldier to know that she was indeed butchering civilians and not just wiping out the last remainders of the lannister forces that hadn't put down their weapons. i’m glad though that they all apparently learned to communicate with each other telepathically otherwise they would be as freaking lost as me rn

one thing the books and previous seasons have been really good at is small little world-building elements that pay off later. and they could have used that in season 8! there wasn't any need to introduce new stuff they could have just used what's already there. they did well on that account with lyanna, jorah and theon. Theon probably had the best arc this season tbh (not a tough competition but it's something) and died a stark and a greyjoy. His identity was the major theme of his journey and seeing it played out this way was satisfying! Lyanna and Jorah both embodied "Here We Stand" in their final moments (Jorah quite literally) and that was wonderful! Why couldn't we get something like this for the Lannisters? Why couldn't we get one final, brilliant scene with cersei trying to turn the tide (backup plan? never heard of it). Don't get me wrong, Lena's acting was fantastic but why couldn't we get a "Hear me roar" moment? Her arc was tide to house Lannister more than any other and yet we didn't get anything? Why didn't we get any rewarding rains of castamere parallels? if they're set on wiping house lannister off the map why not show the tragedy and irony of it. why not remind of us tywin's fantastic speech in season 2? they could have used any of those themes but they didn't???

i'm still not even ready to begin to vocalize my opinions regarding jaime. every time i think about it i can feel my life drain out of me. what a fucking waste you guys

what i can vocalize now however is how much i do hate cersei's end and how they treated lena. I cannot get over that. like i realize she is a villain and i realize she is not meant to be a sympathetic character and she never had a chance to get redemption or get out alive but the show treated her like dirt in the end and just like jaime she was eventually reduced to the incest plotline. she started this show out as someone completely at the mercy of the men in her life (her father, her husband) and while jaime was a big part of her arc her main objective was always throwing off that control and taking it herself. sure she overdid it massively and became power hungry but that power hunger is a direct result of the way she was brought up and everything she was forced into/everything she was denied. weirdly, her conflicts are very similar to brienne's. both women didn't want the roles their peers tried to force them into, both women wanted to escape and both women assumed to do so they would have to take on male traits. brienne did that by rejecting her womanhood completely for 7 seasons and aspiring to be a knight. cersei took a very different route. maybe because she had that option (brienne couldn't mould herself into a proper lady unlike her) or maybe because that was literally her only option (imagine tywin's reaction to cersei putting on armour...). in the years that follow cersei and brienne obviously take very different paths and they have very different personalities but just as brienne deserved her knighthood and the affections and acceptance of the man she loves, cersei would have deserved to be free of men trying to decide her fate for her. but she never was. first it was her father, then robert, then her father again, then the high sparrow and when she finally wiped them all out she had to let another man she despised into her bed to maintain power. brienne managed to escape the confines of male-dominated society forced on her, cersei never did. they could have either shown her finally free before her death, free of the men that tried to control her all her life, free of the power hunger, free of societies expectations or they could have had her face her ugly deeds. i doubt she would have ever regretted any of it but it would have been so much more satisfying to see her properly outsmarted, to see her face off either dany or sansa or jon (or even tyrion or jaime had his character arc not been ruined before that). she was a fantastic, complex villain until she basically just started to stare off into the distance. it would have been so satisfying to see her face reality before the end. Instead, we got rocks. but even that scene (as beautifully as it's acted) isn't satisfying. cersei, who has never been one to just weep helplessly, is first reduced to begging jaime for her life & to save their child (AGAIN WHAT WAS THE POINT! I WILL NEVER GET IT!) and then she keeps freaking out because she doesn't want to die at all and certainly not this way (very self-centred as always whereas jaime is much calmer and at peace with what's about to happen and ready to take care of her even though he’s worse off) . i don't know if this was intentional or just a happy accident but even in those final scenes it's very obvious that the love cersei has for jaime is not the same kind of love jaime has for her. i guess they both ended up wanting to die in each others arms seconds before it happened so there’s that. but it’s a cheap ending for the best actress in the show before they robbed her of all opportunities to shine

oh and lena's instagram combined with her body double’s yet unseen work on the show has now convinced me that we're incredibly likely to see cersei's and jaime's mutilated bodies/heads next week. can't wait to see their characters disrespected on a whole new level jfc i’m so tired

i can't even think about brienne these days. absolutely seething. at this point i would prefer it if the brienne/jaime romance had never happened in ep. 4. if they'd stuck to glances and meaningful gestures at least it would have made more sense. brienne would have been his "what if" when they erased jaime's character development and made him return to cersei (which i maintain could have made sense because no matter what jaime will always love his family no matter how much he also hates them IF ONLY THEY HAD PUT IN THE FUCKING WORK). but she's not a "what if" now is she. she is his "this happened and it was good and important" but we're just going to forget this. we're just going to forget that the last 8 seasons have been leading up to this point. we're gonna forget that for the entire first half of season 8 jaime didn't even flinch at the thought of cersei dying. four episodes of jaime glued to brienne's side and then we're just expected to believe he doesn't care after all. then we're just supposed to believe she is never mentioned again and no thought of her crosses his mind or anyone else's for that matter (looking at you tyrion). I genuinely don't get what the point of that romance was then. to keep jaime in winterfell for a bit longer so him getting captured would make more sense? i feel like there were like a million ways to get the same outcome without throwing brienne under the bus. brienne and her entire arc were used as a cheap plot device for jaime and it wasn't even worth it cause they then butchered jaime's arc. god i'm so angry.

remember the last time a tv show fucked up in the last episode? yeah, dexter!  i'm calling it now: got will end exactly like dexter in terms of plot and level of satisfaction. jon will kill dany (a family member/romantic interest) and then go north to spend his day in the wilderness (lumberjacking away miserably)

the more i think about it there is not a single thing about this episode that actually makes sense. this goes beyond plotholes, this is just a plain hole