#so consider it downloaded to the “basically canon” part of my brain:)

[rocksanddeadflowers]

i thought it was mostly a reference to Argos? BUT this theory also makes a lot of sense because one) the way it was phrased just seemed weird to me, if it was simply Argos, considering Argos was not referenced near or around the vault, and it seems rather unlikely to be locked away all alone in the fields (not impossible though, just unlikely).

and two) the explanation I like the most is that the mechanisms tend to mix up a LOT of stuff when you compare it to the original stories we have (not necessarily incorrect, I mean rewritten- that's like, they're whole thing). and here, specifically, sometimes they do mash two or more characters into one for the narrative

(example: Mordred and Morgause are different characters, being that Morgause is Mordred's mother I believe? And Arthur is still Mordred's father, though Morgause is Arthur's half sister- yeah it's weird and my Arthurian legend knowledge is next to none

Another example (that is easier for me to explain bc Norse mythology was my special interest in middle school) Odin claimed to be "the serpent that shall poison the sky and boil the sea". if you didn't already guess based on the title of that piece, she references The World Serpent, or Jörmungandr. A separate character in the mythology that was destined to be slain by Thor, who gets taken down with the serpent after nine steps. Jörmungandr was also one of Loki's kin but let's not get into that lmao.)

Basically what I'm saying is Ulysses still being themself, while also being Cerberus, and the two tied together through the story of Argos is something the Mechs would absolutely do and I love this theory.

(whether or not explanation of Argos is needed I take any chance to quickly infodump about that dog. Argos was ulysses's/odysseus's faithful dog who makes me sob every time I think about him- the dog was the only one to see through odysseus's disguise when he returned home after his odyssey and is so happy to see him, though odysseus could not great his dog lest he give himself away, and Argos, skin and bone and covered in fleas, so vastly different from the speedy hunting hound odyssey grew with, finally breathes his last due to his age and decaying health after a final greeting from odysseus that was nothing more than tears and a side glance.)

okay okay okay i gotta say some theory bullshit

in sunrise, it says "And as the weary hound, once more at its master's feet after so long", and the next line is also dog related (fur warming its fur, breathing its last) but is cerebus even in the scene pre-vault opening?

so what if ulysses was cerebus? and they were sent out as ashes' guard/dog to do things? and ashes assigned them jobs? and the final job ashes gave them was to fuck w the suits (and then eventually mechanise them but then they killed themselves)

- decimal anon °◦=͟͟͞͞ʕ̡̢̡ु•̫͡•ʔ̡̢̡ु ☏

oh this is such a cool theory! poor ulysses though - theyve got it so rough

- mod ismene

[skinnypaleangryperson]

I'm convinced that Rick is literally inherently like some sort of deranged spoiled overly sensitive person to the point of borderline dysfunctionality, and because of this extreme sensitivity, he quite literally needed a person with a certain type of personality like Diane to keep him grounded- and without her, he's like an erratic array of nothing but incredibly sensitive emotional neurons and crippled with loneliness and erratic emotion and barely able to keep himself grounded.

After seeing Rick theoretically be an incredibly cocky independent badass it's so endearing (in a really pathetic way) to imagine him being the lazy one in the relationship, which seems to be what was suggested with what he had with Diane. He said he worked with FEDS right before he met Diane but when she dies he is just playing around in his garage and when she comes out and asks him what he's doing he's saying that he might be "giving up on the whole science thing", and now that we know that was Diane smart enough that she was studying her Masters in something science related, she probably had a really good job and was ranking in bank, which probably means that they could switch off every now and then in terms of who was bringing in the money.

Right before Diane was dead, it seemed like Rick was taking a time off from helping other people out with his own intelligence to basically... play around in the garage, while Diane was probably off doing a just as equally important job as much as Rick had before to support the two of them while he explored himself. She probably loved him enough that she allowed him to simply have the time to experiment and to explore his intelligence just for the sake of it. It might be part of the reason why by the time she died, he was aware about how much he was capable of: or at the very least was far more aware of it then he was when he was just working with FEDS and helping fairly averagely intelligent people out.

I know that it's not necessarily real, but I think that it's interesting that Diane had a little pout on her features and told Rick that he didn't deserve her, and considering that it was basically confirmed by the writers that it was as canon as much as it ever could be anyway for a dead character, and that Morty has Rick's brain downloaded with this past, I'm going to assume that it's pretty much all true to fact with what their marriage was like.

Rick to the present day has already been a complete ass in his relationship with Morty-in a really, really pathetic toxic way. It's almost incredibly endearing how drunk and complacent he is; as long as it was with a partner that knows how to deal with it rather than a confused helpless 14-year-old boy. Might have ended up being the same long-term even if he had been with Diane-not because he doesn't love her, but it just seems to be inherent in his "edgy melodramatic drooly hypersensitive princess, spoiled kid in Willy Wonka's chocolate factory" personality that he has going on, which we've seen a lot this season ❤️ (I know he's been depressed but regardless, he's pretty much always been that way). Like Morty has said himself, he's like a spoiled 8-year-old kid. But it's endearing to imagine a independent, smart, but oddly sweet woman like Diane keeping him down from falling too much into that part of himself and keeping him together.

Granted, the only reason why it's so lovable when it comes to Rick is because you know how actually competent he is if it was an actual problem how lazy he is, and ultimately in the ways that count he actually does have a good graceful heart (like with the way that he's constantly cutting Jerry slack); but I get major pillow princess vibes from him and from Diane. He's such a spoiled little wreck ❤️

When he whacked his toe while running around with Summer earlier in the season and then jumped up and down and scream "my ankle", he gave off such spoiled little boy vibes. He definitely needs a good self-respecting strong sense of self woman like Diane to remind him how about being at least someone respectable with that natural little spoiled pillow princess personality he has.

[ashe-fics]

Your intro to Quantum Leap?

In light of the Reboot/Sequel of Quantum Leap about to start airing, just wondering about people's first exposure to the magic of Quantum Leap and/or how you got into the show (obviously this is mainly for fans). Please reblog and let me know!

Here's my story:

I remember my parents, particularly my mother, watching it. It was on too late for me as a little kid, but I did catch parts of it that I no longer recall. I didn't understand it at the time. When I was maybe 10 or 11 (circa 1997) it was shown in syndication, possibly on Galaxy (satellite TV in Australia during the 90s), and it became a staple for my whole family. We all watched together, it's a really good memory for me. My most vivid memories from that run are the episodes that I think everyone finds the most memorable - Double Identity, The Leap Home 1 & 2, The Leap Back, The Wrong Stuff, Star Light Star Bright, and basically all of Season 5 which were sometimes memorable for all the wrong reasons lol

After that, it was 2008, and I was living in Liverpool, England with my sister for a working holiday. I had been working at a Subway that literally closed down a month after they hired me, so I was out of a job and had nothing but free time. This was also the period in which I joined Twitter, incidentally.

Anyway, torrents were not quite in their best days just yet, so I could only find a patchy connection for QL episodes, but I downloaded maybe 75% of episodes, and my sis and I watched them again. I was obsessed for a while.

A few years down the track I started watching @allisonpregler 's original review series, Obscurus Lupa Presents, and after a while she discovered Quantum Leap herself, which made me so excited. And then, as many fans will know, she went on to not only purchase a dryer lint portrait of Dean Stockwell as Al, but discovered negatives of the lost ending of the series. She became my link to QL news during the time I wasn't obsessed with it.

Anyway, jump forward to 2022 and I had merely heard bits and pieces about the new series in the works, when I wake up one morning and start watching Sliders for no reason, which was a sci fi show from the 90s that I never really saw except for one and a half episodes during the original airing. Well, after being thoroughly disappointed with the last season, I decided to write a post-canon fix-it series of fan scripts. That was what got me into writing fan fiction. By the way this was only 2 months ago lol.

After completing that series, I decided to try writing a crossover of Sliders and Quantum Leap due to inherent parallels between the two series. And now I find myself obsessed again. Yay? But also, the new series is about to start, so it's kind of the best time to get obsessed again, isn't it?

As someone who suffers from severe second hand embarrassment, Quantum Leap is perhaps the wrong show to be hyperfixated on, but such is my weird neurodivergent brain.

I don't know exactly what it is that I love about the show. I really like Scott and Dean's performances, and their interplay. And I really appreciate that the show isn't one of those kinds of shows where things just keep getting darker and darker. Certainly if you let me talk for long enough you'll hear all kinds of complaints about the series, which is perhaps even more true of my relationship with Sliders, but obviously something in it makes my brain go "yes me like this, more pls" and I think that's what people consider a "guilty pleasure." Something you like, even though you know it's got gaping flaws. Something that has a goodness deep down that's comfortable enough to look past the surface issues.

[shadowsong26fic]

Coming Attractions!

A day late, but ah well...

As usual, we’ll go ahead and do an Open Question Night. Which basically means that, while my ask box is always open, tonight I’ll be keeping an eye on it and answering things as they come in. Any fandom or work I’ve talked about here (or posted on AO3) is fair game, as are general questions about writing, etc. I do accept prompts, but I am. Not very good at filling them in a timely manner unless they Immediately spark something, lol.

So, yeah, what’s on your mind?

Also, since I don’t think I have for a couple months, plug for my Discord server! It’s pretty quiet, mostly intended to be a slightly more interactive extension of this space, but you’re welcome to check it out!

Anyway, the usual Coming Attractions details are behind the cut!

PodTogether 2021:

I participated in this challenge for the first time this year, and it was a whole lot of fun! Of Other Suns is a SW/AtLA crossover, and I think it turned out pretty well! My reader/podficcer and I worked pretty closely together during the initial brainstorming process, working out what we wanted to do, and also bounced off one another during the whole editing/finalizing process. There’s a lot that I didn’t end up putting into the fic (because time and length; I am a. Uh. Very wordy writer; the aim was for 6-12k words, we ended up with nearly 15k as it is...), so I might poke more at this specific AU, or crossovers linking up at a different time (either a different point in the SW canon, or in the AtLA canon, or both). I...definitely have extensive headcanons for SW characters as benders of various elements (or nonbenders), and there are at least two Force-sensitive AtLA characters who were outside the scope of the crossover.

Anyway, if you want to check it out...click this link XD (and definitely listen to the podfic too!!! It’s really great)

Precipice:

So, between the final push on PodTogether and some origfic stuff I got done, I...did not get anything finished and posted for this, alas. But! I am saying it here in the hopes that doing so publicly will for once get me to actually stick to a deadline, which is that I will get either the first Protectors chapter or the next Preludes one-shot (or both!) up by this Sunday, September 12. The Protectors chapter will be mostly scene-setting, establishing where various characters are when we open, six years after we last saw our heroes. The Preludes segment will involved Hondo contacting Obi-Wan (and Anakin, who’s with him when he gets the call) about something Relevant To Their Interests.

I will for sure get that Prelude out this month, and hopefully at least two Protectors chapters, but we’ll see how things go at work and how much brain that takes, which is always a factor...anyway, with any luck, I’ll start establishing a Rhythm. I don’t think I’ll be doing weekly updates, the way I did for the first few arcs of Precipice (in part because there are some other longform projects I intend to start putting out and if I am going to do Weekly Fic Posts, I’ll probably alternate), but we’ll see how things go.

AtLA Fic:

Again, I didn’t finish what I wanted to (other than the aforementioned crossover for PodTogether), but I have been working on stuff in the background and, while I’m not going to commit to a Specific Deadline like I am for Precipice, I do plan to post at least the opening chapter of the still-untitled Avatar Zuko AU I’ve been working on this month, so watch this space!

Other Fic Projects:

I’m poking around at what to do for next years SWBB (if only because my wordcounts have been Steadily Increasing and I’d like to get a head start in anticipation of that happening again this year, lol). Still considering exactly what to do, whether I pour all my focus into OFLAM, like I consider every year, or see if I can work up Bail Unfucks the Timeline or another half-plotted AU I have in the back of my head, or go with a different prompt/storyline that occurs to me at some point between now and then, but I’m starting to Actively Ponder things.

I do have that BSG1 crossover outline in the works, I swear XD I’ve got...uh...maybe half to two thirds of the first third of the overall storyline written up? XD It’s a. Uh. Long one. I might go ahead and release it in three parts, just for length/convenience, and because it does more or less have three distinct sections (the initial contact/New Caprica fallout and establishment of the Haven settlement which makes sense in context; the second contact/algae planet; and then an adventure on a resurrection ship to retrieve a Specific Boxed Five and possibly walk away with Ellen because that would just ruin Cavil’s day and I do so love to ruin Cavil’s day, lol). ...I’m going to go ahead and post a preview snippet at the bottom of this post, as Motivation XD

I think that’s all the fanfic stuff I have specific updates for. There’s generally always stuff noodling around in my brain (lately, for Star Wars, AtLA, BSG, or some combination of the three), it’s just how much of it materializes, lol.

At some point, I plan to revisit some BSG epics I had going on (Serenissima; rewriting For Sorrow Sung or doing a slightly different storlyine with the same concept; The Other Battlestar; a few others), but no concrete plans as of yet.

I also kind of want to explore a far-past AtLA setting I designed for a challenge community way back? But I’m not sure if that would work better as an original work with the serial numbers filed off, if I could figure out how I wanted to do that (I have done it before, as I’ll talk about below, but this concept, while not directly involving any characters from Avatar canon as it’s set 2000 years prior to Sozin’s reign, does to an extent lean on the Avatar specifically as a concept, in a way that the other fic I did this with did not).

Original Fic:

Due to a challenge on rainbowfic, I actually got. Quite a bit written? Most of it was not super plot-relevant, but I dropped some Hints about a character in Lux and I got to play in some heads I don’t very often. I might go back to the Regency AU at some point, and there’s a specific reveal I want to write up for a secondary character in The Farglass Cycle, but I haven’t quite figured out how to structure that one, so we’ll see how it goes.

Had an interesting discussion the other day about the way original fiction sometimes starts as fanfic with the serial  numbers filed off and...well, a lot of my original stuff starts that way? Or has some roots there, anyway.

Lux doesn’t quite as much, but I definitely ported in at least two characters who started as fanfic characters (leaving aside that this is, y’know, The Apocalypse IN SPACE so, like. Various fandoms that deal with that probably influenced things, plus several key players are Public Domain Characters sooooo), plus some of the way the world is constructed draws on the Native Tongue trilogy and I flat-out stole a concept from Queen of the Damned, though the way it works in this world is different (also, to be fair, I think I’ve seen it in other places, too; but I personally got the idea from there).

The Farglass Cycle and Untitled Intrigues Story, however, straight-up started as fanfic concepts. And I don’t think it’s obvious unless I point out what the source materials were? Farglass, in particular (it’s the AtLA fic I mentioned earlier), because it started as an alternate future and then the map and magic system got reworked, plus the Avatar themself wasn’t even super involved in the original fic context, and while certain characters are very loosely based on AtLA characters, by now they’ve been so altered by the setting that it’s...I used the same archetypes, if that makes sense?

And then Untitled Intrigues Story started as a fusion between two wildly different fandoms, and while one character is a pretty clear expy if you know where he comes from, and another character kept the same actress in my head, I don’t think it’s very clear other than that.

...anyway, not sure where I’m going with that, other than it’s been in my head lately, lol.

...I think that about covers it! What about you guys? What are you all working on? Slash any questions, etc.?

Teaser for BSG1 AU outline, as promised:

So, anyway, SG-1 is prepared for rain and mud and a survivable-but-kinda-unpleasant environment. They’re also prepared for the usual shenanigans--Goa’uld, cranky local politics, weird alien tech that Daniel really should know better than to touch but sends him into another dimension anyway...

Just. Y’know. A normal mission.

They’re...not quite prepared for what they actually find when they step through.

Which is a very tense and now slightly Confused crowd of people, and a firing squad made up of very large killer robots, with a teenage girl as their target.

(One of the large killer robots is. Uh. Well. Half a large killer robot now; that particular Centurion was in the wrong place at the wrong time and got kawooshed in the face. As one does.)

(Said Centurion absolutely wins the ‘Weirdest Death’ pool for the week in Download City, because that is clearly a thing that exists because it entertains me)

There’s a beat where everyone just stares at everyone else, trying to figure out what the hell is going on.

The wormhole disengages.

Daniel takes half a step forward, opens his mouth to start the ‘we are peaceful explorers from Earth and y’all seem to be having a Moment here, sorry for interrupting, but, uh...’

And then the moment end and absolute chaos erupts.

[foxforfree135]

Military Cac Card Reader Software

It sounds like the act of ww sprint might not be the problem (not 100% sure that's why I asked). But if he did sprint and it is not acknowledged by Arngier that's another problem, or Bori never taught him WWS and/or his '.knowledge' (.brain fart here) which is like absorbing a dragon soul. Well, basically what the title says, I'm having problems with this mission in SSE, I'm stuck in phase 125, where Wulfgar should use whirlwind sprint, Master Borri opens the door with 'Bex', but Master Wulfgar stands without using the shout, I've tried with 'disable - resetai- enable' 'disable-enable', waiting 8 hours, traveling away and then back, but none of that works, any idea that. When you first meet the Greybeards they will take you to the courtyard, where Master Borri will teach you whirlwind sprint. First they teach you the first word, 'Whirlwind', then they let you tap. I am at High Hrothgar where i need to Demonstrate the power of Whirlwind Sprint. But when I stand in front of the master greybeard to prepare my shout to pass the gate, Borri, the one who is supposed to open the gate, does not open the gate or even move. The quest appears to be stuck at this point and I can't seem to advance the quest. Borri dont use whirlind sprint.

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Ensure your CAC Reader works for PC.

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[patchdotexe]

and now for Even More Of These Guys because i hit image limit in the first post. this time: weird variants and edge cases! because some of these AUs have AUs and also there's some OCs that could be KGs but either aren't considered one due to how convoluted their lore would be or bc they've got other stuff going on

OUTLAW: Minecraft, kinda! human-ish, they/he? AU of Landia where they're a space outlaw on the run from Basically The Mafia because of accidentally leaking important info due to "genuinely forgetting that they're not supposed to know things". got a neural implant so they could interface with tech and accidentally downloaded a virus who now lives in their brain and gives them life advice. spaceship pilot!

DASH 2: Minecraft as well! catgirl, they/he? AU of Landia for a specific setting i talk about on my mineblr sometimes named "-2", so.. they're Dash 2. originally was supposed to be a goofy background character with role of angst-repellent, then discovered a compass that gave them time travel powers so now they gotta help save the day! while also keeping the time traveling a secret from their server mates. has declared the local polycule their dads

CIV: Minecraft.. again! specifically SPAU, so uh. Landia summoned a living shadow, except due to a known bug they intentionally exploited for fun and profit they got one with maxed-out power that sees itself as a god. and then they promptly broke it by giving it an existential crisis (which was not part of the plan). technically not a KG but is a copy of one so close enough

AKAY: Stickmolus! they/them, older sibling to a CCC agent.. basically the same as Kay, but potentially a bit more complicated because there may or may not be some backstory to where their powers came from this time. currently not relevant in Stickmolus because of being an ordinary limolus currently and Causing the Chaos being post-Completing the Mission

TEIXAK: Kingdom Hearts! she/her, is the Nobody of the actual local KG but she never got any development so Tei has basically usurped her. embraces chaos because it's funny. another one of the "original" KGs so her lore is a mess: she's part of the New Organization XIII, which was formed by someone when a bunch of people in the rp setting lost their hearts and he decided that was bullshit. mostly known for being the main oc character of a truth or dare fic that lasted for 20 chapters on ffnet. keyblade wielder but never actually used it after becoming a Nobody so all the other KGs get it instead i guess because i've drawn everyone BUT her with it

KARAMI: Homestuck... again! she/her. obligatory fantroll, was part of the same rp universe as kaoticGenome but i don't know if they like.. met? catgirl with attachment issues. can and will fuck you up. part of my "trolls have tails" agenda. she was basically The Sequel To Nepeta because nepeta is my favourite. i don't remember what her trolltag was because she's had, like, five, so i improvised one based off kG's and using part of one of her old ones. women who suck

IKE: EWSO! if you know what that is you are entitled to a veteran's discount i think. they/them, didn't actually show up but was said to exist in the mirror world as Leo's counterpart. just vibing. kinda tentative because fully canonizing them as a KG would have a LOT of implications for ewso!Leo but ica wanted to include them here anyway

ADAGIO: originally Percy Jackson, now is kinda generic urban fantasy i think? she/her, catgirl from a curse and/or magical accident. i love her hat. has truesight, cool magic tattoos (not shown), and so many problems. is in nebulous territory of "i include her in my KG art hoard but im not sure she's part of the wacky multiverse gimmick"

HORIZON: Limoliverse! they/them. not a KG (they very much have their own stuff going on!) but i'm including them for posterity because there's some vibe overlap. weird fucking animal.

TANK: Rescue! they/she/he. also not a KG but she WOULD be if she was a wacky background character instead of a deuteragonist. actually might've been implied to be one or have some sort of connection ages ago before Rescue was a thing but then that got dropped

the KG masterpost

aka "icarus and pat collectively lose their minds"

the core concept here is basically like. what if all the AUs of somebody were literally the same person? in the sense of like... you bump into somebody in one universe, hop to the next one over, and when you find them again they recognize you even though there's no way you met before-- or you're just minding your own business when somebody runs up and claims to know you and, when you press them on it, they get embarrassed and say "sorry, i mixed ya up with the other you". slightly different appearances, vastly different backstories, different nicknames, but still the same person.

side effects of existing like that: easily overstimulated, memory constantly scrambled because of remembering Literally Everything From Every Version Of Themself, extremely confusing to be around. depending on the setting, either they mask it or they just don't give a shit because This Is Already So Goddamn Weird

tl;dr: local teenager breaks reality and now exists in several dimensions at once. this is a problem. (or, we tried to make all of our old rp self-inserts canonically the same character, ran into Several Issues with logistics, and somehow exploding the fabric of spacetime was the best solution we could think of)

(individual KGs in vague chronological order under the cut because this post is MASSIVE)

KG / PRIME: human, usually. (sometimes a catgirl?) they/he/she. the "original" KG, template for all the others, and the core of this mess. goofball with phenomenal cosmic power. got isekai'd into the original version of our long-running RP multiverse and then oops! all KGs! a side-effect of the Isekai Incident is that Prime kinda is just vibing somewhere outside of reality and is basically just in noncanon scenarios for comedy reasons, which they are very aware of. they're the reason why the other KGs are fourth-wall aware because they're kinda clipping through it and just have to deal with that. does not like shoes because they're hard to draw

SELF: Persona 3! she/her, is so old that all of my art of her was in mspaint. is the reason for this mess because initially i didn't make any distinction between Self, Plus/Minus, kh!Katie, and Prime despite them all having different backstories and powersets. persona was Nekomata i think? the "SI" literally stands for "Self-Insert", so uh.. she's Self now. this is the first time i ever drew her in a reasonable outfit. was, unfortunately, a Fucking Weeb because i was 13. there's info on her out there somewhere but i don't want to look for it or else i'll explode

PLUS and MINUS: Mega Man Star Force! she/her (individual), they/them (plural). basically "what if Gemini Spark was me" except.. i didn't know i was a system yet.. so this specific iteration of KG is very weird to look back on lmao. absolutely horrible plural rep but they were somehow instrumental in me figuring myself out so they get one (1) rights. there's also a version that has a fan FM-ian partner instead but then they got reworked into an unrelated oc. has lightning powers even when not wavechanged i think? Plus is harmless, Minus is teenage angst and a boatload of trauma incarnate

kaoticGenome: homestuck! human, she/her. breaks the mold and has different initials (not counting chumhandle)! originally thought her last name was Grant but it got revealed to be something else when she learned about her session's ectobiology stuff. which included "one of the genetic samples for her and her brother was the past self of the first guardian before he turned himself into a FG", it was ~2010, it was a Whole Thing, she's very disappointed that she didn't "inherit" any powers from it (and then i realized she's biologically related to Ninten and had a 404 error). was the Scribe of Dawn before we knew what the canon classpects were, probably a Heart player nowadays. very good at being the goofball but was usually the straight man. was like the only KL-era KG that wasn't interchangeable with the others but HAHA NOT FOR LONG

KATIE: Kingdom Hearts! human, she/they/he. this design was "ica wanted to draw a smash sona that's 'KG but ica's mains put together' like how Spark is pat's mains put together" and then i realized the sora half of the equation is Basically the Kingdom Hearts KG that never got a unique design so uhh. she's them now! design liable to change. is the weird outlier of "doesn't have a unique nickname" because even Katie A. has her chumhandle, but also her Nobody is named Teixak so uhhhhhh. speaking of, she kinda got upstaged by her Nobody lmao. keyblade wielder solely because i was playing Days, had a crush on Roxas (i was 13).

LANDIA: Minecraft! catgirl, they/he? last of the "original era" but they predated us knowing minecraft storytelling was a thing so they didn't have anything going for them besides shitposts until we brought him back a literal decade later. kinda part of their own sub-group of KGs because there's like 3 Landias running around. predates the existence of dogs. leans hard into being a comic relief background character. currently planning to fling themself into the deep dark for fun and profit (there will be no fun and no profit). resident self-proclaimed memelord

FOXCAT: Sonic! Outsider foxcat, she/they. shapeshifter and realitywarper due to being an entity from another dimension masquerading as a normal mobian. has made it her life mission to bother as many au Tailses as she can (mostly bothers T1 because he's Their Best Friend). has Klonoa's hat because Zephyr exists. may or may not know blood magic because of a one-off joke. is difficult to place chronologically because this design is new but got retconned into taking the place of proto-SK in a specific RP arc, which KINDA makes her the first KG (besides Prime) but not really..??

KAY GEE: Stickmin! they/them, first fully "new" KG after establishing the bizarre convoluted multiverse stuff. older sibling to a CCC agent while also being somewhat on the run from the CCC itself because of having similar time anomaly / "retry" powers as Henry. does not take things seriously at all because of just being able to rewind and try again. keeps getting reminded their actions do in fact have consequences. is in SO much trouble

ZEPHYR: Klonoa! four-eared cabbit, she/her, lovable pest. grew up in breezegale as one of the various phantomilians you can rescue. she's friends with Klonoa and causes problems on purpose because it's funny. Dream Traveler status debatable. also difficult to place chronologically because despite being VERY old she got retconned into being part of this mess wayyyyy later (which is why she has a fully unique name). currently Fucking Haunting Me because tying her in to the KGs ended up being an accidental explanation for Foxcat's hat and then i went on an unhinged rant and started this masterpost

..this isn't even all of them, i just hit image limit

[condensed-theorem-shop]

some anecdotes, an odd poem, and incidental history

(1) some anecdotes

The other day, I was trying to find the text of an old childhood favorite poem of mine, and google just wasn’t turning it up.

This happens to me pretty regularly. My early poetry was almost entirely from the Oxford Book of Poetry for Children, which is fantastic and gorgeously illustrated and full of the most eclectic selection of poems imaginable.

It’s got all sorts of nursery classics, of course, from Carroll (“...If seven maids with seven mops/Swept it for half a year...”) to Silverstein (“Nobody loves me/Nobody cares/Nobody picks me peaches and pears...”).

Then there’s the classics that maybe aren’t so obviously for children, like Dickinson (”I’m Nobody! Who are you? Are you -- Nobody -- Too?”) and Yeats (“The silver apples of the moon,/The golden apples of the sun”). Those seem reasonable enough once you put them with the others; “I’m Nobody! Who are you?” goes opposite Shel Silverstein’s “Nobody loves me,” with a cute silhouette of a little boy, and it seems as natural as anything to cut your teeth on Dickinson.

And then there’s the weird ones. These leave you wondering, as an adult, why someone put them into a book of poetry for children -- but as a child you don’t see anything strange about it, of course. And I tend to think it’s one of the great strengths of this book that it does include these; children have weird dark things going on inside their heads, and giving them words for those isn’t a bad thing. Still -- I wrote weird stuff, as a kid (like I don’t now, but), and it’s not hard to have some guesses why, once I look back on excerpts of what I was reading:

‘I wish the wind would blow through you,’     said Meet-on-the-Road. ‘Oh, what a wish! Oh, what a wish!’     said Child-as-it-Stood. ‘Pray, what are those bells ringing for?’     said Meet-on-the-Road. ‘To ring bad spirits home again,’     said Child-as-it-Stood. ‘Oh, then I must be going, child!’     said Meet-on-the-Road. ‘So fare you well, so fare you well,’     said Child-as-it-Stood.

‘The years passed like shooting stars, They melted and were gone, But the path itself seemed endless, It twisted and went on. ‘I followed it and thought aloud, “I’ll be found, wait and see.” Yet in my heart I knew by then The world had forgotten me.’ Frightened I turned homeward, But stopped and had to stare. I too saw that signpost with no name, And the path that led nowhere.

Yeah -- weird childhood. But fantastic -- both the childhood, and the poems. The latter really stuck with me. It didn’t hurt that they are all of genuinely excellent quality, though different kinds; obviously you can’t exactly compare Robert Louis Stevenson against Blake against “Solomon Grundy/Born on Monday...” head-to-head-to-head, but none of them are anything like bad at the thing they’re being.

Plus, it’s just really quotable poetry. Especially if your whole family’s grown up on it, so that everyone speaks the same language. I’m not sure a month of my life has gone by where I didn’t recite at someone --

Don’t Care didn’t care, Don’t Care was wild: Don’t Care stole plum and pear Like any beggar’s child. Don’t Care was made to care, Don’t Care was hung: Don’t Care was put in a pot And boiled till he was done.

(What can I say; nothing takes the wind out of a teenager’s sails like reciting that to them when they’re in the middle of a fit of pique.)

Or someone will get started off on nagging someone else with “A man of words and not of deeds/Is like a garden full of weeds/And when the weeds begin to grow/It’s like a garden full of snow,” and by the end the entire family will be reciting together for “And when your back begins to smart,/It’s like a penknife in your heart;/And when your heart begins to bleed,/O then you’re dead, and dead indeed.”

(I did mention it was weird poetry.)

There’s always late risers to be teased with “A potato clock, a potato clock/Has anybody got a potato clock?” Anyone tagging along at someone else’s heels can expect to hear “I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me/And what can be the use of him is more than I can see.” Breakfast is accompanied by the eggs poem, with quips for every way you can have them done (scrambled: “I eat as well as I am able,/But some falls underneath the table.”) Sleepy small children get “the Sugar-Plum Tree/In the garden of Shut-Eye Town” recited in full, if they’re lucky. And of course adorably bossy tiny people get tolerant recitations of “James James/Morrison Morrison/Weatherby George Dupree/Took great/Care of his Mother,/Though he was only three.”

All that to say, then: growing up in my house, this particular poetry gets under your skin. You find yourself thinking in it, at odd moments. You have quotes on the tip of your tongue and you’re not quite sure where they’re from.

So you go look them up, because it turns out that not everyone in the world knows what you’re on about when you start in on “The King asked/The Queen, and/The Queen asked/The Dairymaid...” And that one, it turns out, is Milne, and really everyone should know it; and later you discover that other poems are Blake or Lear or Yeats or Farjeon (and go “oh, that’s why I liked that one so much, no wonder”); and it’s weird and delightful to find out that these childhood poems of yours are actually the great classics of English literature.

So, yeah, half the time when you go look a poem up, yeah, it’s Auden or Wordsworth or someone, that would explain why it’s so good. (And, yeah, maybe this is why I find theories about ‘the canon is only considered so great because it is the canon’ less than compelling; for half the Great Authors out there I can remember finding them vastly, insistently fascinating well before their names meant anything to me.)

But then the other half of the time, you go look it up and it turns out there’s -- nothing. No one’s ever heard of that author. The full text of the poem isn’t even on google. And so you’re left with these lines that are written as deep in the quiet parts of your mind as this was the funeral of Hector, tamer of horses, only where you expect there to be a shared cultural construct: nothing.

The Terrible Path is one of those. It clung to my brain enough for me to end up making a setting inspired by it. It’s dark and eerie and bizarre, and the sum total the internet has to offer about it is a link from Trinity College that’ll let you download a PDF of the text. I’m not sure why it’s not better-known than it is; I’m no lit critic, but I really think it merits it.

It turns out, the one I was trying to find is another, though this one I at least have a bit of an explanation for.

(2) an odd poem

I ended up having to look it up in the same hard-copy book I read it in the first time, however long ago that was. (How twentieth-century of me, I know.) In this case, that wasn’t technically The Oxford Treasury of Children’s Poems, it was The Oxford Treasury of Story Poems, which has a slightly different selection but is much the same in spirit.

The title is Count Carrots; the author is Gerda Mayer; the one-line note says only from a Bohemian folk-tale called Rübezahl. It’s sandwiched in between Bishop Hatto (the exciting, child-friendly tale of the Wrath of God exacted in the form of the titular bishop being eaten alive by rats) and The Lady of Shalott (Tennyson, also surprisingly weird and dark).

The poem reads like a children’s poem; it’s written in a light, conversational tone. Free verse.

He’s the giant of the mountains; they call him Count Carrots. How he hates that nickname. Let me tell you how he came by it. Well -- there was that princess who -- Persephone-like -- had strayed from her companions. Perhaps you know the story.

(As far as I can tell, that right there? That’s the only place that’s been put online. This poem is nowhere.)

You can probably guess the basic outline of the narrative, just from that quote. The execution, though, is -- something else. The giant gets these odd little humanizing touches --

Some say he brought her gifts of precious stones to tempt her to love him. This is untrue, he was simpler than that. He brought her, I think, bilberries from the forest, baskets of raspberries, mushrooms, many sorts, which Bohemia excels in, and clumsy importunings, day after day.

And there are beautiful morsels of description, serving no purpose at all but to be there:

The fact is -- to paddle your feet in a mountain stream, shallow and fast and cold as molten ice, water which rushes and swirls over white pebbles, -- to paddle your feet in this on a hot day is pleasant and delightful: to wash in it, day after day, indubitably cold. So the princess had discovered.

The tone, already, is getting strange. This should be straightforward -- kidnapped princess, evil giant -- but there’s something bittersweet about every part of it: about the giant who’s really trying to please her, about the homesick princess, about her parents --

‘What shall we tell them at home?’ And who will comfort ever the queen in tears, the king in despair?

And then it gets weird.

The princess is lonely. The giant brings her a basketful of carrots from his garden, and explains that they’ll be magically transformed into “whomever, whatever, you wish.”

The princess wishes up her puppy and her friends and her retinue, and she’s happy again. (“She was gracious to the giant. She didn’t see much of him.”)

Then, on the third morning, they start to wilt -- her horse first, then her friends -- stumbling, their flesh shrunken, pale, complaining of headaches, dead in a ditch -- and, finally, carrots again.

(This is -- kind of horrifying, right? It’s not just me?)

The princess goes to the giant. The giant promises to bring her fresh carrots each day, to replace them as they wilt. This satisfies her for a while, but then she feels uneasy, so she comes up with a clever escape plan: she worries aloud that the giant might run out of carrots, and begs him to count them. While he’s distracted, she wishes up a pair of horses and a companion and rides home.

The ending is about as bittersweet and strange as you’d imagine from the rest:

Henceforth, the giant was called Count Carrots by all; a nickname he hates, as I told you at the beginning. Woe to him who so calls him in mischief. Let the impudent traveller, shouting his name, beware.

When I was small, I called his name into the forest: ‘Count Carrots! Count Carrots!’ then leapt into bed, half in fear. He didn’t come for me though. Could it be that perhaps he forgave me? He loves children, they say. -- May the forest stay green for him ever.

(3) incidental history

If you’re anything like me -- which, I acknowledge, is a bit of a leap -- this leaves you with two questions. One is: what was up with that poem? And two is: why has the internet never heard of it? (There are, after all, all sorts of poem archives online. Why does this one show up nowhere?)

I don’t have a really good answer to either question, but I have one answer, which split between them makes for maybe half an answer to each.

That answer is in the author. Gerda Mayer: Jewish, Czechoslovakian, born 1927.

It doesn’t take much to do that math. She was eleven in 1939, at the start of World War Two, whereupon Czechoslovakia was not such a good place to be a little Jewish girl. Gerda was (though one hates to use the word) lucky enough to find a place on a Kindertransport to England.

She’d stay in touch with her parents, writing them letters -- them still in Nazi-occupied territory, her off in England. Mayer, much later, writes about the experience:

I am on a raft and they are in a choppy sea. I am eleven, possibly just turned twelve, and they cry out to me -- though in the politest possible way -- ‘If you should happen to have a lifeline or lifebelt on the raft, if it is not too inconvenient...’ It is a forlorn hope. Their heads bob on the surface and the waves grow higher and higher.

Reading an excerpt from one of her mother’s letters, you can see what Mayer is talking about:

Under no circumstance do I want you to bother your benefactors who have already done so much for you; but if you should meet someone who strikes you as particularly kind...

Little Gerda never was able to find someone particularly kind. Her mother would die in Auschwitz; her father, in a camp somewhere in Russia. Mayer writes:

My father went hiking without pass- port or visa and was                                   intercepted My sister went mad my mother went into that Chamber trusting                                   in God God picked the bones clean they lie without imprint or name dear                                   mother

By this time, at eleven-or-maybe-twelve, Gerda had already been writing poetry for some time, and shown a distinct talent (though notable, perhaps, only to her parents as yet). Her first poem was written at age four (as any number of biographies available online attest), and saved by said parents in a “Baby’s Diary”.

(None of the online sources include a copy of the poem, as far as I can tell, but full scans of the diary are available online via the Center for Jewish History Digital Collections. My German might be up to the task of translating a four-year-old’s poem, but unfortunately it is definitely not up to deciphering her father’s cursive. If anyone else wants to give it a shot, pages 117 to 124 are dated from 1931-2, when she would have been four, so it should be somewhere in there.)

In any case, Mayer herself says that her poetry suffered severely as a result of the change in language. In a letter written at the request of, and published in, a poetry magazine, she says:

I was born in the Sudeten, the once-German-speaking part of Czechoslovakia. I came over at the age of eleven and, as I was surrounded by English speakers, my reading had caught up with my own age group before three months were out. In any case, I was reading Browning’s Pied Piper to myself and, came the summer holidays, What Katy Did. Conversely, my mother, in a letter from Prague, fretted that my German was deteriorating. If I had caught up linguistically, poetically there was a time-lag. My first English poem, written at the age of twelve was no better than one I had composed (in my pre-literacy days) at the age of four (proud parents had entered this into my ‘Baby’s Diary’) and a poem I wrote at the age of sixteen was on a level with one I had written at the age of eleven, just before leaving home.

This seems to me the most satisfying explanation available for why Mayer never became more famous than she has. It really doesn’t seem to be a lack of skill; the introduction to her Wikipedia article has Britian’s poet laureate praising her as a fine poet “who should be better known.”

Rather, Mayer is limited by writing in a second language (and one she learned late, at that -- eleven is old to be learning a new language). She compensates for this to some degree for writing children’s, and childish, poetry, where maybe a gift for vivid imagery and tone can compensate for the linguistic handicaps of writing in a second language (poetry! in a second language! I can’t get over how impressive that is to do at all).

Hence we have Count Carrots, which is effective partly because it’s really an adult poet, writing about adult topics, but using the format of children’s poetry; hence also we have commentary on her repertoire like this from Peter Lawson:

Although some of Mayer’s poems are aimed specifically at children, other collections feature what Peter Porter describes as ‘children’s rhymes for grown-ups’. Such poems juxtapose, in the lilt of nursery rhymes, the tentatively self-assured perspectives of children with adult knowledge of the murder of innocents in the Holocaust.

And Mayer absolutely makes this work for her. A characteristic ‘children’s rhyme for grown-ups’:

Grandfather’s house rose up so tall, Its steps were like a waterfall It had a deep stairwell, as I recall.

And down the banisters slid my mother, And her sisters, and her brother, And many a child, many another.

The banisters wobbled and down fell all. Down down, down, and beyond recall. And so I was not born at all.

Better it is not to have been, Than to have seen what I have seen. So deck their graves with meadow-green.

Or again:

The children are the candles white, Their voices are the flickering light.

The children are the candles pale, Their sweet song wavers in the gale.

Storm, abate! Wind, turn about! Or you will blow their voices out.

Mayer gets compared to Plath (doing her an injustice, I think, but I’m not overly fond of Plath) and to Blake (much fairer, in my opinion). But she’s nothing like as famous as either -- will probably never be famous, except for her story -- and I think that can be chalked up to the linguistic hobbles she’s working under.

But those don’t prevent her from writing truly great children’s poetry -- and Mayer knows that, and the Oxford editors, evidently, knew that, because the strange beautiful haunting Count Carrots somehow made it into my book of children’s verse.