#so its not like i can log into it elsewhere

[weaselle]

i am convinced that human evolution and development was centered around the basic up-grade from "i steal your resources" to "i steal your behaviors and concepts"

We got clever enough and we just started copying absolutely everything we observed just because now we could figure out how to copy concepts and things that other animals were doing

see that squirrel hoarding acorns for the winter? we can do that. okay now how do we make these acorns edible, cause they are poisonous to a number of animals and we don't do great with them either. What if you put them in the fire? or just on hot coals? what if you put them in water on hot coals and boil them? Oh if you soak them in cold water for 24 hours and maybe change the water a couple times you can totally eat them? YOINK storing acorns for winter is our idea now.

or, you ever seen a weaver bird do it's thing? if not i'll give you one guess what they do

or how about the tailor bird that uses spider silk to stitch the edges of a big leaf together to make a nest in

or sometimes they'll stitch a bunch of leaves into a little cup for a nest

like i'm not trying to downplay how clever it is to be the first humans to weave or sew, and indeed, being the first person to weave that anyone knew about probably happened many times throughout human existence but my conceit is that most if not all of those times was a human seeing something in nature that was basically weaving and going "i'ma do that, and get real good at it - i'ma take that concept and really make it mine"

like it wouldn't surprise me if humans got dogs because we saw how ravens were treating wolves and went "shit yeah, great idea - YOINK that's my idea now."

most of the things that we think of as special human skill or behavior can actually be found elsewhere throughout nature -- all over there are animals using tools, farming, ranching, building, etc.

my favorite primate behavioralist anecdote is a group of people studying tool use in chimps were spending their days in the bush logging the use of twigs to catch termites, and over the campfire at night they're like "it's so boring i wish they'd do something more impressive than this completely basic tool skill."

and one of them was like "actually... how do we know its not a difficult skill? has anyone tried to use a twig to catch termites and see?" and so the next day, like good little scientists, they went out and recorded their attempts at catching termites with twigs.

And lo and behold out of the whole group and all their attempts that day, only, like, a single termite was caught by a human, mostly by chance. Suddenly the whole situation flipped - they'd been thinking of it as basic unskilled tool use, but actually the chimps knew how to do something that none of them could easily figure out on their own - or even together as a group!

y'all, they had to go back to watching the chimps do it to figure out how. Think about that. University degrees, scientific minds, educated people... and they had to be taught how by the chimps.

It turns out there's a reason that young chimps will spend like a year closely studying how an adult is fishing for termites. You gotta select the right kind of twig or leaf stem, maybe you fray the end like a paint brush depending on particulars, you gotta have just the right poking and little shaking technique to provoke the termites into biting the twig, it's a whole thing. There's even regional/cultural differences in the general approach to termite fishing that are distinct between groups that live in different areas.

Now, wild chimps have been observed using objects as tools to fashion crude spears for hunting (it's the mothers doing it by the way, and slowly some of their kids have been growing up doing it, which will probably result in refinements and developments eventually.

ants do both farming and ranching. For real. Some species of ant grow a fungus they eat AND it's a domesticated fungus, like our corn, it can't actually reproduce and survive in the wild without the ants farming it. They maintain its growing conditions and feed it leaf litter mulch, and the fungus produces some kind of ant food idk i forget the details about that. But that's farming. They are farming a domesticated mushroom, basically. And other species of ant will maintain a herd of aphids; they'll move them from grazing area to grazing area, and protect them from predators, and they "milk" them for a liquid food substance and also every now and then they straight up eat one. That's ranching.

beavers sometimes have muskrat... tenants? pets? The muskrats low key pay rent by changing out the reed bedding they all use, and they live in the beaver's lodge with them and eat some of the food. So. idk

Some Tarantulas keep frogs as pets

anyway my point is, i think the true human skill that sets us apart is our ability deconstruct and reconstruct anything we see into something that is for us. Oh, you eat that? Now WE eat that. You have the perfect teeth to drill little holes in specific tree trunks to let the sap ooze out and eat it because it's high in sugar? We don't have those teeth but we're gonna do that now and if we can't figure out a tool that's as good as your teeth at it, watch out, because we will absolutely just also steal your fuckin teeth.

[askagamedev]

Vertical Slice Breakdown - Dragon Age Veilguard

It's been a few days since the Dragon Age Veilguard gameplay video was released. I posted a challenge for aspiring developers to identify as many specific features and systems as they could spot. My expertise is in gameplay, so that's where I will be focusing. Expertise on visuals like lighting, rendering, shaders, etc. should be directed elsewhere.

0:22 - In-Game Cinematic with moving cameras 0:30 - Seamless cinematic transfer to gameplay, quest tracking UI element, different walking speeds 0:36 - Interactable element with UI 0:43 - Camera movement - orbital motion, but likely not detachable 0:53 - Party member movement, including waiting for the player as part of an escort sequence 2:08 - Uninteractable NPC actors perform animations 2:13 - Scriptable terrain changes/destruction 2:18 - Scriptable interactions with multiple actors 2:29 - Uninterrupted conversations when transitioning from gameplay to in-game cinematic 2:39 - Context-specific traversal method with special traversal animation (balancing across a thin beam) 2:50 - Small sequence that is likely unloading the last area and loading in data for the next environment. Likely also locks players off from returning to the previous area. 3:22 - Conversation wheel with "personality" icons and paraphrased words 3:39 - Dynamic inventory in game cinematics, show player's items 3:46 - Scripted Player equipment change during cinematic 4:04 - Quest variables (e.g. player background) result in different NPC response 4:27 - Combat UI including current target (four red dots), Combat log 4:30 - Player can jump 4:33 - UI Melee danger indicator for incoming attacks - silver for enemy attacking, gold for shortly impending damage 4:35 - Player can dash/dodge 4:39 - Event log - Items/Loot notification 4:42 - Shooting UI including hit/miss indicator (red reticle), time scaling, arrow charging (rounded purple bar above arrow count), arrow refill cooldown 5:03 - Some kind of special charge/jumping attack 5:09 - XP gain UI, Quest objective completion UI, Quest objective map indicator UI 5:12 - Auto sheath weapons 5:15 - Potion use/Health recovery 5:18 - Recover potions from the environment 5:40 - Quest objective indicator change on approach 5:49 - Ranged attack danger indicator 5:51 - Defensive action (player reflects damage back on ranged attacker) 6:06 - Enemies can be knocked off edges when fatal 6:10 - Destructible objects in combat, can be scripted 6:16 - Some kind of "special" dodge skill with VFX, likely a rogue class skill 6:51 - Second context-specific traversal method (sliding down a slope) also likely a second "can't go back" type of lockoff 7:01 - Action/Command UI (party/self ability commands) 7:06 - Specific skill used, skill cooldown, enemy debuffed + UI (weakened), resource used (purple bar at bottom of screen) 7:07 - Quick use button mapping, likely for controller face buttons 7:09 - Resource bar refills on its own and on attack damage 10:47 - Different kinds of health bars (likely magical shield and armor) 11:59 - Boss UI with both magical shield and armor bars. Not sure what the number 4 there indicates 12:15 - Telegraphed danger zones projected onto the floor 12:22 - Quick recover timing event 14:45 - Conversation option for branching cinematic 14:51 - Follower approval UI event log 18:49 - Destructible object with health bar and UI highlighting

Each of these elements is something that would need to be designed and implemented by someone on the gameplay team working with UI, engineering, and art. See anything I missed? Which did you get?

[Join us on Discord] and/or [Support us on Patreon]

Got a burning question you want answered?

Short questions: Ask a Game Dev on Twitter

Long questions: Ask a Game Dev on Tumblr

Frequent Questions: The FAQ

[bundoesnotcompete]

Hello you may notice this is a new blog but i do not want to post this to my main so im dumping this lil thing here. I dont think its very good but i hope you can at least get ideas here. It has violence and reader is kept neutral as possible. Hopefully my anxiety will let me keep this and not encourage me to delete it. Have fun reading :)

Hunted like an animal. That is all that could be used to describe the situation you've been in for the past few months. To think that you had been so excited to meet your favorite characters after getting isekai'd into genshin. Well, after you had a panicked screaming session in the woods you had been excited. When you had wondered into Mondstat, you hadn't been greeted kindly instead, you had been meet with wary and disgusted looks.

That should've been the first warning that something wasn't right, but you had held hope that things would improve. But after some sort of declaration was told to the city, you had been driven out and hunted like an animal. An imposter they had called you. You were appreantly an insult to their divine creator for simply looking like them. As horrific as the near death experience in Mondstat had been it was nothing like what was about to become the hell of the next few months.

Liyue had been a nightmare. After escaping Mondstat, you had fled to Liyue. You discovered the fun fact that even if you died, you would return elsewhere fully revived and healed. Dying in Liyue to Zhongli's hand forced you to discover the revival process and showed you that you could not escape the hell that teyvat would become. It was also in Liyue that you discovered that you were the true divine, and that whoever sat on the throne was the false creator.

Sumeru had been a mess, not only did you die, alot, but the entire academyia seemed to be torn between hunting you down to kill you or to study you. At least the local wildlife wasn't too much of an issue, in fact they seemed to help you. It was here that you discovered that the traveler hadn't been anywhere in teyvat yet. That explained why Zhongli had taken up his morax form when executing you. Thankfully, Sumeru was large and made it fairly easy to escape. The wildlife played a part in helping you after your hunters got more agressive with every time you revived.

You had to give Fontaine credit, Furina at least had the decency to tell you that you would not be welcomed when she had found you.

"I know you are the true divine creator," she had stated, "but you will doom us if we help you, so I have to tell you to leave and we will make a show of running you out." They had made a show of running you out of Fontaine, even if Furina seemed to feel a bit guilty of doing so. Natlan had been, well you didn't even want to think about how bad Natlan had been. You had gathered more deaths there than anywhere else.

You would be liar if you had said everyone was against you. Kaeya and a skeptical Diluc had helped you flee Mondstat safely, the local wildlife and forest helping out. Xiao, of all people, helped you escape Liyue after your first death. Furina in Fontaine at least acknowledging that what she was doing was wrong. Thankfully, you had never stepped foot in Inazuma. You didn't want to know whag the Almight Shogun had planned for you to die by.

So, here you were, tired and barefoot in the Snezhnayan snow. Surprisingly, the cold did not kill you or give you any sort of frostbite. Though you exhausted and the fact that you knew that some fatui patrols had spotted you made you paranoid. Why weren't they doing anything against you? They just seemed to note you ragged and exhausted appreance and move on. They were plotting something, they had to be. Sitting down and a hard and snowy log you sighed. The sun was beginning to set and you wanted to sleep, but the thought of someone finding you scared you. You were so tired of running but you didn't want to die.

Crunch. Whipping around to face whatever was behind you, you were met with the appreance of a woman in one expensive dress. Gliterring white dress, cloak, and crown like accessory atop her head, you had a sinking feeling. The fear must've shown on your face because she stopping approaching a few feet away from you after you had stood up. She bowed at the waist and began to speak.

"I apologize for scaring you My Divine, I should have known better." She stood straight and seemed to compose herself. "I am not here to harm you. I am the Tsarista and i come with a proposal if you were here me out. First though you must be cold here," she took off the thick cloak and held it out towards you, "you may have this. If you want to set it on the ground and back away i will."

You nodded and she set the cloak and the ground backing away. Snatching the cloak, you set it around your shoulders and she gave a small smile.

"I can offer you housing and protection My Divine. I will declare you permantly dead and you be safe in my nation. Though you will have to hide yourself, I do have a plan for that. In turn, I wish for your support on a rather large project in the future."

"There has to be more to it. You wouldn't have looked for me out here just for that." You narrowed your eyes in suspicion. That was a deal too good to be true. What if she was tricking you? The Tsarista's face returned to neutrally and she nodded.

"The others do not see the crime they are commiting by hunting you down. The Imposter does not allow them too. Celestia does not allow them to. There a few who see past the haze Celestia places upon beings. Most in my nation can see past it thus allowing us to know the truth. I know it sounds too good to be true, but I believe you do not understand just how valueable your support is. That is all there is to it, protection and freedom for your support. What will you say?" Wariness and hope filled you. Could you do it? Would you do it? She could be lying but the mere hope of freedom and peace she offered was tempting. Plus, the background whispering of Teyvat seemed to tell that she was not lying to you. It was a leap of faith.

"I-" You began, "I will accpet your offer. Just know that if you are lying I won't be happy." You held your hand out to her, burrowing ghe rest of you body deeper into the cloak. She smiled and took your hand, cold fingers gently wrapping around yours.

"Come. We are near a town. Cover your face and i will take you to safety My Divine."

The following months had been much better. With the Tsaritsa declaring the "Imposter" dead, and no one spotting you afterwards, you were free. Of course, you had to wear a mask to cover your face. In the few short months with the Tsaritsa you had been shown immensive kindness and you learned much. There had been other incarnations of you, though only two were confirmed, a legendary adepti and the prince to the fallen nation of Khaenri'ah. Appreantly, the last one had broken the seals that held you power at bay. That along with the tomfoolery that Khaenri'ah was getting up to forced Celestia to destroy the nation. Odd how that was never mentioned in game.

There was another thing. Appreantly, ypur streamer sibiling was also the divine creator. The Divine Twins you were called. All powerful creators of Teyvat. That had been something else. You hoped they never came, at least until the whole imposter mess was cleaned up. You worried about them on the other side but there wasn't much you could do, so you just tried not to think about it. When you had asked about why only certain people saw through the haze that Celestia made, the tsaritsa had merely sighed and did her best summarize. Appreantly, those who saw through were something called the Children of Calamity or flat out knew that an imposter was on the throne.

The Tsaritsa had asked you to become a sort of honorary harbinger after that conversation. The Lamb she had dubbed you. The other harbingers were nice enough you supposed. Pierro being kind and answering any questions you had. Though you couldn't deny it was a bit depressing how he seemed to be seeing Khaenri'ah's prince when he talked to you. Tartaglia was excitable and La Signora seemed to have very little intrest in you other than to talk about fashion or magics. You despised Scaramouche though you knew he would get better with time. You didn't have much of an impression of the others though.

Smiling under you mask, you adjusted it as you walked down the hallway to the harbinger meeting. You shouldn't think of things like that anymore, there was other things to focus on for the meeting. Opening the door, you entered the meeting. Things were looking up and you had a feeling it was only beginning.

-----------

Hello im putting this at the bottom to let you know I DID NOT proof read this and this was slammed out in an hour.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

104/150 with lethal company?

104) I can hear it calling my name

.........

[Y/n], January 29th, [Log 001]

---I'm afraid this will be my last log. So I'm keeping this encrypted.

Everyone's gone, but I'm still here. And I'm terrified. We started on this job as strangers, and we became family. Now I'm all alone because of a stupid mask. A piece of scrap we should've just sold off.

But he thought it would be funny to wear. I don't blame him. He was always a jokester, willing to do anything to turn a frown upside down and make light of our dreary trips. I know he didn't mean to hurt us. He thought it was harmless. Honest to god we thought so too.

Until he started vomiting blood and tried grabbing me. He tore off my helmet, along with my tracker, but I managed to get away. I still don't know how. But I wish I was smarter about it, because I got lost.

Then I heard the ship's engines.

They must've thought I was dead. Or maybe they all died and the autopilot kicked in. I'm not sure. I don't even know the current time. But what I do know is that I'm stuck here now. Possibly forever. I could make an SOS but that monster is still outside. I had to barricade myself in this storage room and wait until it goes away.

It keeps knocking. I can hear it calling my name. But I know it's not him.

To anyone who reads this, don't pick up the porcelain masks. They aren't worth shit. It'll tempt you to put it on. Don't. You'll find better loot elsewhere. If you see anyone already wearing it, kill them. Stun them. Run. Whatever. Just don't let it take you.

And if you see me wearing it, put me out of my misery. I promise I'll understand---

Finishing what would likely be your final log, you sighed and slumped back against the wall, letting the tablet slip from your hands.

You don't know how long you've been stuck here--whether it's been hours or days.

But all you know is that the Masked on the other side of the door hasn't left. It was using your coworker's corpse, mimicking his voice as it pounded on the steel and tried convincing you to let it in, even shattering the window. For some reason it refused to leave you alone, and kept begging and begging until it began screaming unintelligently...

That would go on and on until eventually it would cease, weakly clawing at the door, only to rinse and repeat once it rested its voice.

You were starving, trying your best to ration the jar of pickles you were luckily able to find in this storage room.

Unfortunately, that's as far as your luck will go at this point. They were sour and made you want to vomit every time you ate one. But while you didn't want starvation to take your life, you weren't exactly sure how you really wanted to go out instead.

It sure as hell wasn't gonna be from that bastard who took away your friends.

"It's clear....all clear......come on out....the ship is leaving..leave....out.....COME OUT..!! COME OUT!! COMEOUTCOMEOUT-!!"

With your heart hammering in your chest, you curled up and covered your ears, squeezing both eyes shut. 'Fuck, it's losing its mind again...this is a nightmare..why did I ever take this job?' You tried not to focus on the screams so much, and instead prayed for some kind of miracle.

But in space, would anyone really hear your prayers?

Yet somebody must have, because the screaming abruptly stopped a minute later, being replaced by the sounds of heavy thumping and growling drawing near.

You only knew one other alien creature that made those.

And you knew it was pissed off.

Getting up and backing away from the door, you fearfully clutched a stop sign as you heard a series of terrified shrieks, roars, slamming and crashing sounds....before silence followed, save for the low growls you heard earlier and chewing noises.

Cautiously, you went back over and pushed aside one of the things covering up the window, and the sight on the other side was quite nauseating:

The Thumper was hovering over the Masked's body, teeth covered in blood and flesh as it tore into it, clearly wanting to savor this midnight snack.. But eventually it decided to drag the rest of the corpse away and to another part of the facility, only leaving behind a few shattered fragments of white dirty porcelain.

You couldn't believe it.

You were actually happy that a Thumper, of all things, saved your skin.

But you sure as hell didn't want it coming back for a second lunch. Now was your window of opportunity to get out of here. The adrenaline pumping through your veins was the only reason you were able to grab your loot and book it out of that storage room, being careful not to run into that Thumper again.

At least now you could go outside and (hopefully) send an S.O.S.

[toomuchracket]

sweet touches (ross x girlband gf!reader fluff)

soz this is late it's actually day 11 of promptober and not 12 oops!! but we move. it's cute, it's fun, and it's lowkey super trouper by abba coded. i might genuinely write a fic inspired by that song for these two at some point, but enjoy this for now! <3

the party is in full swing when you and your girls arrive. clinging to one of their hands, you slowly weave your way towards the bar through the throng of people, a lot of whom you suddenly recognise as the sporadic lights inset in the ceiling throw their faces into focus.

there's one face present in particular, though, that no amount of shitty soho house lighting could disguise from you; you clock it almost immediately when you step through the door. understandable, considering you've spent a fair few nights learning every contour of that face with your own body, and even more insomnia-ruined nights committing it to memory in near-darkness, the only light in the bedroom being the tiny crack that escapes the side of the roller blinds.

plus, the fact he's six foot four and a creature of habit also helps your recognition capabilities. of course ross would be standing at the bar itself, whisky in one hand, the other in his trouser pocket, face pensive in concentration on whoever's talking and generally just ridiculously handsome.

said face morphs into a sly smirk as he notices you walking in. like you, ross is all too familiar with what your face looks like in low lighting, the result of more than a couple of gin-soaked late nights in his house, and of an entire weekend spent bare(faced and elsewhere) in front of the fire in a cairngorms log cabin, so he quickly spots you, too.

you feel your own cheeks lift in response. fuck, he's hot.

and he's yours.

despite that fact, you don't drop your friend's hand and make a beeline for ross as soon as the two of you lock eyes. there's a part of you wishes you could, but you're both enjoying the privacy of your relationship right now - someday, you'll go public, you've discussed it, but it's nice to have one thing that escapes the usual scrutiny your respective bands are both under. once the hype over you and your girls and the controversy around your boyfriend's best friend dissipates a bit (although, nobody's sure which thing will happen first), there's less chance of the two of you being pestered by paparazzi and the public when you finally step out together on purpose.

besides, you can still have some fun with your boyfriend now, albeit discreetly. neither of you say anything as you go to walk past ross - his face stays locked on the person he's in conversation with, yours stays peering ahead of you so you don't lose your friends - but he almost imperceptibly takes his hand from his pocket before you reach him. it brushes against your free one quite deliberately, calloused fingers looping around your own as much as they can within the limited time you have to connect. 

warmth seems to shoot through your body from your fingertips as soon as they meet ross's. you feel the cold set back in when the two of you slide apart again, and then the longing follows. suddenly, keeping the relationship contained in its own little bubble seems like an awful idea to you; if not for your friend's grasp on you, you'd probably run back to your boyfriend, cling to him, burrow into the crook of his neck and stay with him for the rest of the night.

but you stay somewhat composed, and merely chance a sneaky look back at ross, something neither of you tend to do on nights like these. after all, how many times have you bypassed each other at parties like you just did, and still ended up in his arms in one of your beds when the evening's over? it's a given. you both know it'll happen, trust that it will. there's no need to do an orpheus and turn back to double check. you know that, and your turning back to look at ross is less hadestown and more a star is born, anyway - you just don't want to stop looking at him, ever, can't resist one more peek.

you really miss him.

you're surprised to notice that ross is glancing back at you too, but his reasoning is clear; even in the poor lighting you can see the soft concern in his eyes. they soften, though, as he smiles at you and mouths "see you later", and you smile genuinely too. he really does know you so well, you think, to be able to tell from the shortest of touches that you're missing him. the warmth returns to your body with his little gesture, and your little bubble doesn't seem so bad anymore.

the glances don't continue past that point, and neither do the clandestine touches that fuel the two of you on nights like these. but it's alright - you have a nice enough time with your friends, mingling and sipping champagne, that you're fairly distracted from missing ross. that, and it takes a far shorter time for the two of you to "run into each other" than it has done before. 

the routine is always the same; somebody, but never either one of you, inevitably pulls the two of you into a conversation huddle. tonight, it's the queen of pop herself, charli, with an "oh, have you seen george yet? and ross? they'll want to hear this, surely" amidst a breakaway chat about production that started when she sat down to gossip with you and her bandmates.

you smile to yourself as the words leave her mouth - just she and her boyfriend and you and ross together, and then they'll go off to dance or smoke or kiss as they so often do, and you'll be left alone with your man in a seemingly casual way. perfect. "no, i haven't seen them at all tonight, actually."

liar.

"yeah? let's go and annoy them, then," charli stands, waving and kissing your bandmates goodbye before looping her arm through yours and leading you back towards the bar. again, you spot ross first, even though george is the one facing you and his girlfriend. he winks at her and nudges ross, who turns to look at the two of you approaching. he smiles, cheeks dimpling deeper and deeper as charli practically shoves you into the boys with an excited "look who i found!"

"hiya," george says, pulling you into a long, friendly hug. "it's been too long, mate. where have you been? nobody's seen you! you're almost as bad as ross, cooped up producing 24/7 now."

that makes you giggle - you both use the same excuse, and nobody's any the wiser about it. "well, we can't all have hot girlfriends distracting us from it, can we?" you wink at charli, who tugs you into her side and kisses your temple. "must be nice, eh, ross?"

it's extremely cheeky of you, and you might get into a teensy bit of trouble with your boyfriend for it later, but the opportunity was too good to pass up. and, to be honest, ross is really sexy when he's a little bit irritated at you.

he's also really sexy now, smirking at you. "well, i can only imagine."

"yeah," you laugh, breaking free of charli's hold and opening your arms towards ross. "hi, by the way. s'good to see you."

it's not a lie - the relief in your body just from being close to him is palpable, and it increases to such a level when he hugs you that you almost audibly sigh. home at last.

"back at you," ross says into your hair. it's agonising when he pulls away from you, but your heart races when he accidentally-on-purpose presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth instead of your cheek. "whoops, sorry about that, love…"

(he's so not.)

"...must be drunker than i thought," ross gives the most convincing faux-embarrassed grin you've ever seen, while charli and george cackle like schoolkids behind you at his "mishap".

"oh, it's alright," you smile, wrapping an arm around his waist casually. "what are you drinking, anyway?"

"whisky. talisker."

"would i like it?"

ross shrugs. "i don't know. let me buy you one and we'll see."

you do like it, a fact you discovered when you and ross took a trip to skye and visited the distillery during the summer, but it's nice to pretend, to let ross discreetly spoil you the way he loves to do; nobody even considers it a romantic or flirty gesture, as evidenced by george's "you and your crusade to get everyone drinking whisky, honestly".

"it's good for you, mate," comes your boyfriend's reply, delivered over his shoulder as he waits for the barman to pour you a half.

"so's weed, but you don't see me trying to convince everyone to smoke. maybe i should, actually. i don't know why more people here don't."

charli takes george's face in her hands. "because it's illegal in the UK, babe."

"oh, right, so it is."

the two of them collapse into a fit of the giggles, kissing cutely before ordering their own drinks. amidst their funny little distraction, ross gently pushes the crystal glass of your whisky along the bar into your hand. his hand covers yours, briefly, and as it does he uses his middle finger to tap three times on the back of your hand - i love you.

your heart swells, and you smile as you look up at him. sliding your glass back and hand from under his, you respond by tapping four times on ross's finger - i love you too - before bringing the glass up to your lips and letting the amber liquid roll down your throat. it kind of makes you feel the same way ross does, actually; warm, cosy, content. "this is nice."

"it is," ross agrees, and you know he's also referencing both the moment and the drink like you are. his brow furrows slightly, and he brings his free hand up to your face. "you've got a little…"

with his thumb, he wipes a stray drop of whisky from the side of your mouth, then boldly drags it across your lips before bringing it to his own and smirking.

"ross," you glance around quickly to make sure you're not being watched, before scootching closer to your boyfriend. "what was that?!"

"irresistible, love," ross winks. "waste not, want not, and all."

you laugh, which seems to remind george and charli of your existence. they move to stand between the two of you, george's arm resting on his best friend's shoulder and charli's slung around your own. she lightly pokes your cheek. "what are you giggling at?"

"how tipsy ross is. i think he needs his bed."

the two of them cackle again, while ross smiles warmly at you. "you're right, actually. would love to be in bed right now."

"actually," george turns to his girlfriend. "i'm ready to go home, too, i think."

"yeah, this party's a bit dead, anyway," charli shrugs.

you scoff. "course it is. it's a soho house."

everyone laughs, and george reaches around charli to clap you on the back. "see, this is why we all love you - you tell it like it is. take it you're heading out with us, then?"

"if that's alright, yeah," you nod, sipping your drink.

"absolutely," charli squeezes you. "where are you staying tonight?"

you name the area, pointedly not looking at your boyfriend. george is the one to note the familiarity, but he still doesn't cotton on. "oh, like ross. well that works perfectly, then - we'll get out first, and then the two of you can share the taxi for the rest of the journey. cool?"

ross nods. "cool. shall we?"

you down the rest of your whisky, and he snorts. "let me run and say goodbye to the girls - i'll get you at the door."

"i'll come with you, actually," ross chips in. "matty'll kill me if i don't pass on the message that he loves the new album to the four of you."

"as he should," charli says. "we'll get you outside."

you nod, and the two couples part ways. with a "fucking finally", ross takes your hand, and you lead him towards your - visibly tipsy - friends. the feeling of your hand in his spurs you on, and you barely manage to shout a "bye, girlies!" to your bandmates before you're tugging ross towards the door. before you reach it, though, he suddenly grabs your waist and pulls you into a darkened alcove; his lips are on yours immediately, and you moan at the feeling. 

despite your public setting, you wish the kiss lasted longer; ross pulls away after only a couple of seconds, before you can open your mouth and instigate a full make-out session. you whine almost involuntarily as he does, which makes him chuckle.

"m'sorry, baby," ross says, kissing your forehead before pulling you back into the party. "i just couldn't hold it in any longer. was gasping for that the whole night, honestly."

"me too," you smile, weaving your way back through the crowds - ross has to hold your hips to stay close to you, which of course you don't complain about. "can't wait for more when we get home."

"same," a final squeeze of your body, then ross lets you go as you step outside. "oh, there they are."

your timing couldn't have been any better - you and ross reach charli and george just as the cab does. ross ends up sitting next to you after you've all clambered in, and he rests his head on your shoulder in what you hope is only fake tiredness as charli directs the driver and the car sets off.

george squints at you and ross. "you know, you two would actually be a really good couple."

"really?" ross cracks an eye open to stare at his bandmate in amusement.

"oh, you so would! i mean, you look great together," charli agrees. "like, that's an onlyfans channel i'd subscribe to right there."

ross turns his face into your shoulder to cringe, while george shakes his head and you laugh in slight disbelief. "thanks?"

"you do look hot together, to be fair," george grins. "but i've seen ross naked enough in life already, cheers."

not relatable to you whatsoever, but you laugh along with the rest of them all the same, and sigh in slight relief when the couple opposite you get out of the taxi (after charli kisses all over your face repeatedly and promises to text you to organise dinner, a girls' holiday, and a studio session, "in that order").

as soon as your friends disappear from view, ross presses a little kiss to your neck and rests his hand on your thigh; he traces the little hearts on your tights quite happily, smiling into your skin as you tell the driver you're happy for the next drop-off point to be the final one.

you slide your arm behind ross's neck, reaching up and round to stroke the side of his face. "do you want to shower when we get in? or just a brew then bed?"

"i don't mind. i get to hug you either way," ross murmurs, softly kissing your jaw.

"sap."

"only when it comes to you, love."

[bettsfic]

What are some qualities of a “good” writer in your opinion?

i can't really articulate in general terms but i did find an example recently. (i wrote these out as examples in the writing log i kept while i was at this residency.)

this is from The Things They Carried by Tim O'Brien, a book about the Vietnam War:

If Rat told you, for example, that he’d slept with four girls one night, you could figure it was about a girl and a half. It wasn’t a question of deceit. Just the opposite: he wanted to heat up the truth, to make it burn so hot that you would feel exactly what he felt. For Rat Kiley, I think, facts were formed by sensation.

what i love about this paragraph, this whole book really, is that it has a strong sense of voice. the humor of "a girl and a half." the fragment of "just the opposite" and the placement of "i think." there's a rhythm here. to me it reads as though every word was chosen because every other word was considered and dismissed.

next i attempted to read Matterhorn by Karl Marlantes, which is also about the Vietnam War. here's a paragraph that happens a few pages into the book that was so bad i put the book down and never picked it back up:

Bass handed him some coffee in an empty C-ration fruit cocktail can and then poured another can for Hamilton, who had dumped his radio in front of his and Mellas’s hooch and was sitting on it. Hamilton took the coffee, raised the can to Bass in toast, and wrapped his fingers around the can to warm them.

this paragraph from Matterhorn is littered with unnecessary descriptive adjectives among bodily action that's not needed and serves only to show the detail of the C-ration fruit cocktail can. that information is better placed elsewhere, where it might be more relevant and interesting to the narrator. there is no tension in this paragraph. it's only bodily direction as if in a film, and because this is prose, that's not needed unless it's relevant to the conflict. in this case, the conflict is that our narrator, Mellas, is absolutely terrified and trying to scheme however he can to get out of the combat zone. but do you get any sense of that urgency in this paragraph? no, it's just things happening.

i think good writers (and i use that term loosely, because we all determine good writing based on our personal tastes and the art/media we've encountered in our lives thus far) draft these kinds of sentences for the sake of knowing where their characters are in time and space but eventually cut them, even if they love the image of the C-ration fruit cocktail can. but if you love the C-ration fruit cocktail can, you can lend it meaning. you can honor it by making it matter to the narrator. here it's just kind of thrown in along with the other details, like a valuable antique thrown into a pile of junk. that antique deserves to sit on a shelf and be admired.

maybe the C-ration fruit cocktail can arrives in drafting totally on its own. in revision--when you're going through the pile of junk looking for valuable things--is when you find it again and go, "oh, this is good, i need this." you know so much about your story that you know how to find what's valuable, what sings. so when i say that in TTTC every word was chosen because every other word was considered and dismissed, what i'm saying is that O'Brien meticulously went through that pile, found the good stuff, and put it on the shelf in a beautiful way.

that's where creative skill comes from, i think. the endurance to consider, to make millions of little choices meaningfully.

[fedoraspooky]

In light of tumblr shooting itself in the foot, I've been thinking about what I should do with my art from now on. Obviously, deleting my old posts off here isn't gonna do shit, it's essentially locking my door after my house got emptied out by burglars. Especially with my old rp account I no longer can log into, they're just gonna steal and sell my old art that I posted there and I can't even flip a questionably-affective toggle about it.

Thing is, I dunno how many people are gonna actually leave. I'm not even sure I will, since I have a lot of friends here... And after so many shitty updates a lot of people are just hanging on out of spite at this point.

That said, I'm considering that for art posts and stuff, maybe I'll post them elsewhere and just link to them here so they're not on tumblr's servers? Idk... Tumblr tends to kill the visibility of links but I'm not really sure what else I can do.

Also, there's the question of where to actually post new stuff. Bluesky seems the most active but I dont know if old posts cut off after a certain amount of posts like twitter does, in which case that would not be a good archive in the long run. xnx

Cohost is functionally pretty close to tumblr, but ngl it seems super isolated on there bc of its commitment to not showing any likes on your posts. I get that its to combat the social media numbers game, but the downside is that it looks like nobody's even seen your work. If people like something of yours there's no way outside of notifs to see it, so scrolling down on your page and seeing only zeros after zeros of comments on stuff (comments are the only visible number), it's easy to feel like you're just posting into a void.

Pillowfort is pretty good, and they just added tag blocking and the ability to queue/schedule posts. Still kinda quiet and invite only, but if you sign up for the invite queue you can get one pretty fast. Also i probaby have a ton of invites sitting around if anyone wants one. I wish it had an app, but mobile web version works well enough I guess, and I'm already used to doing that with sheezy and newgrounds, so I just have those open in mobile tabs together.

Speaking of, Newgrounds has been pretty good, but due to the nature of the portal system and stuff you're more encouraged to post only your better-looking stuff there. You CAN post doodles if you want, but only outside of the portal, which limits their visibility. Kinda like dA's scraps system I guess.

Sheezy looks super promising customization-wise so I'm thinking of posting there more when it opens up to more peeps.

Toyhouse also looks really good for OC and story things too, and also has a good degree of customization.

There's probs options I haven't even thought about, but its good to know there ARE options. I may post in several of those places for now and see how it goes. Test the waters a bit.

If you're thinking of moving your art elsewhere lemme know where, I'm curious to see where people are going :o

Especially you moots, i need to refind my pals in these other places!

[v1leblood]

I have had many different theories throughout the years on What Happened To Wildbow, ranging from "a fan with bad takes is either blackmailing him into having bad takes or just straight-up holding him at gunpoint" to "he died and a family member is Weekend At Berniesing his online persona for income". anyway it's always a trip when a public discord has a "hey no spreading shit from here elsewhere" rule that they can disingenuously invoke in cases like this; I have seen much worse versions of this same thing happen before, relatively close by in internetspace, too

my theory on what happened to wildbow is that reactive distaste towards his old works and his fans makes him write shit that he doesn't necessarily believe but also that him being in a mental health torment nexus of constant exposure to fan reactions while sleeping 4 hours a night maximum and forcing himself to write 10k+ chapters biweekly (now weekly) despite nobody asking for that length has made him into a Worse Guy To Be Around despite his politics theoretically getting more socially progressive -- it speaks to something that he takes issue with victoria being labeled a cop, because he doesn't Like cops, despite having written her As a cop

the reason i have so little pity for him is that its a problem he created for himself and that he continues to perpetuate when step one of Logging The Fuck Off would serve him wonders as far as being less miserable goes And it'd stop creating opportunities for him to be personally, directly unpleasant towards other people (which he regularly is)

[jakescaravel]

The Caravel (series)

🏴‍☠️ ⚔️ ⚓️

Part 2

Pairing: Jake x reader

Word count: 5,507

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, pirate life 🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️, storms, sword fighting, mentions of blood (it's pretty tame for now. Make sure to read the A/N below before jumping in!) 18+ MDNI!!

A/N: Hello! I’m so happy your back for more! If you have not read Part 1, you should go do that!! If you have, please consider listening to this playlist that I have carefully calculated for this specific chapter. The songs ARE in a particular order, and of course if listening to music while reading isn’t your thing, that’s totally okay ⚔️ Without further ado….

🏴‍☠️           🏴‍☠️           🏴‍☠️

Her POV

CLANK.

The sound of metal hitting metal harshly pulls you from your slumber. You wake up feeling sore from having slept on a sack of sand. You rub your lower back that's a mess with knots.

If you had awoken hours earlier you would have seen Jake standing at the bow of the ship silently watching the rise and fall of your chest and your slight frown and crumpled brow from your dream. He had wanted to wake you from your nightmare, but he knew he had to leave you be.

You try to think back on your dream. Something about water. Maybe I was swimming? Wait no I was drowning. I think Jake was-

CLANK.

You look up to see Jake swinging his sword through the air like it weighs nothing. That must be like ten pounds.

They collide again making another loud noise. His opponent looks older than him but seems to be struggling. In the blink of an eye, Jake swings his sword once more knocking the other man to his feet. Jake points the blade inches away from his face, keeping him on the ground. 

The rest of the crew that surround them yell and cheer. They go up to Jake and pat him on the back, Captain Calico gives him an approving nod. 

Wow that was…

Just as the other man is helped to his feet, Jake’s smug face meets yours and he smirks at you. He returns the blade to its sheath to take a quick drink of something.

The sight of his hands fiddling with the leather makes your mind travel elsewhere. You also notice his silver rings shining underneath the sun.

My god.

He shoots you a wink and returns his gaze to the next man who approaches him slowly with an evil look in his eye. Jake doesn’t look phased in the slightest.

You sit up a little straighter to watch the show and the anxiousness and nervousness for Jake's safety start to creep up on you but something inside you knows he’ll win. You can see it on his face. He knows it too. 

You recognize the new opponent as one of the men who held you yesterday causing your fists to clench at the memory. Come on Jake. Get him.

Before the captain has the chance to start the fight. Patrick swings wildly at Jake's face but of course he dodges it perfectly. Patrick falls forward and his sword momentarily gets logged in the wood.

“Bad form!”

“He wasn’t ready!”

But Jake was ready. And now, he was angry.

He moves quickly on his feet and whips his blade through the air. Patrick is quick too and deflects it. The sound of the swords striking each is chilling.

They move together all around the deck until they are merely feet away from you. You back up against the inside wall of the ship to protect yourself. Jake sees you and makes sure to redirect their path. When he gets closer however you notice something different about his face. You can’t seem to place it but he takes another step and then you see it.

He’s wearing eye black.

There’s a slight black smudged line underneath Jake's eye. It makes his eyes look darker, sexier. You didn’t think something that protects your eyes from the sun could be so hot. But then again, it is Jake you’re talking about. 

You watch as they continue to fight slowly picking up the pace in their swings and you can see their faces locking in. They’re addicted to the game. You don’t blame them, it must be thrilling. 

This guy is more of a match for Jake.

Just as the thought crosses your mind, Jake knocks Patrick to the ground flinging the sword out of his hand. It slides across the smooth wood of the deck and Patrick scurries away with a panic struck face. 

Jake's eyes narrow and he laughs. He laughs. It makes the hairs on your neck rise.

Wow.

He closes in trapping his opponent. Jake makes a point of lowering himself so that they’re face to face. You can hear the crew in the back going wild. Jake holds out his hand and helps Patrick to his feet. They bow at each other and again Jake is met with cheering and praise. He looks to you silently asking for your approval and you clap and smile showing all your teeth. He copies the action and it makes you melt. His smile. You still don’t understand how a pirate could have such perfect teeth but there he is, only feet away from you. 

Jake is handed a piece of fabric and runs it slowly across his forehead collecting the sweat. He then wipes it down the exposed skin of his abdomen from where his shirt is unbuttoned. He misses a spot just above his belly button and the dampened skin glistens under the sun.

Don’t stare, don't stare.

He catches you looking and shoots you an all knowing smirk before he turns to his crew and is handed the same bottle. Your face flushes as you’re caught red handed. He takes a large swig of the amber liquid and returns to the middle of the deck. Likely rum. 

This time the captain himself makes his way slowly until he is right in front of Jake.

“Ooooooo.”

The crew eyes them carefully. This is gonna be a close one. You take a deep breath to calm yourself down but remember you’re not the one in the ring.

Jake looks calm and collected but you can see something shift in his mind. He’s focusing.

He brings his hands up to his hair slowly and carefully pulling it into a low bun. It shouldn’t make you feel the way it does but something about it is just so attractive. 

He looks so good like this. All sweaty and concentrating.

What he does next surprises you. He turns to you and stares into your eyes as he slowly undoes the remaining button of his shirt. He slides it down his shoulders at an agonizingly slow pace. His lips curl into a smirk when he sees your face redden causing the men around to snicker and the captain to roll his eyes.

“Let’s get on with it shall we?” James raises his sword impatiently. 

The captain's words pull him into a focus once more and Jake nods. He unsheathes his sword and they hold them up to meet each other high in the sky.

Clang.

They back away circling, waiting for the other to make the first move. The crew watches with widened eyes. All of a sudden Jake thrusts his sword forward and the captain deflects it easily without even the rise of an eyebrow.

Oh he’s good. 

The captain lunges forward almost knocking Jake to the ground but he moves out of the way just in time. Be careful!! They move around the deck swiftly causing Jake's hair to fall from the low bun it was secured in. He moves around again and some of his hairs stick to his sweat covered face. It doesn’t seem to bother him but it’s all you can focus on.

Captain Calico moves forward quickly causing you and the rest of the crew to gasp when the tip of his sword just nearly misses Jake's head as he dodges it. Everyone else is intently watching as well.

Jake acts like this is no big deal and to test the captain, he raises his sword again smirking.

Stop, you’re gonna make him mad.

James walks towards Jake like a predator stalking its prey. He closes in backing him up until he’s forced to climb the stairs leading to the higher part of the deck. Their eyes never leave each other as Jake almost trips on the last step. You realize you're holding your breath when you let out a loud exhale. 

The rest of the crew follows them as they move around. You don’t know if you should follow so you stay back. They circle each other again before their swords meet high in the air with a loud clash. 

Little by little they deliver more swings and more jabs until their feet move along the wood faster and faster. They move in perfect opposition. When one of them moves their foot forward, the other moves theirs back. It’s like a dance. A beautiful, mesmerizing dance. 

With every swing of his sword, every step forward, every move, you can hear Jake panting and grunting slightly. The noises he’s making are sinful. You listen intently, devouring his sounds with perked ears while you feel a pool of wetness growing.

He’s concentrating harder than he was before and you can see a little crease in his brow forming as he sweeps his blade through the air. Fuck. The captain deflects it again as they move farther from you.

Just as the speed was starting to pick up and the tension rising, they stop. Frozen in time, waiting for the other to make a move. Even from a distance you can still hear his heavy breathing.

Jake looks to you for a split second and when he’s distracted James takes the opportunity to swing his sword through the air. The tip of the blaze grazes Jake's stomach ever so slightly and in seconds a small line of blood forms, leaking down his chest.

You grimace and the rest of the crew flinches. Jake looks down in horror. The cut doesn’t look too deep but it does look painful. He brings his hand down and smears the crimson paint across himself.

No, don't touch it!!!

He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment and opens them again. They look darker now, more revengeful. He extends his blade holding it in the air. 

His arm is shaking.

The captain lowers his sword to end the fight but Jake taps the end of his to indicate he wants to continue.

“Go get cleaned up sonny.”

Jake looks frustrated but lowers his sword and tucks it away again. His eyes find yours as he makes his way over. When he sees you his expression softens but you know he's still in pain.

“Are you okay!?”

“I was kind of hoping you would be able to tell me that.” He chuckles.

“Right, sorry.” 

Shit I don’t have any bandages or anything.

As if the captain reads your mind. He extends his finger towards you and beckons you closer. You look to Jake nervously but he nods.

You walk slowly over to the captain. “Thought we didn’t have any bandages eh? Don't worry laddy, we’ve got some left over from the last medic, We made him walk the plank.”

You whip your head back to Jake shooting him a nervous glance but he mouths the words, “he’s joking.”

Captain Calico leads you beneath the deck. It’s cold and dark down there and the stairs creak loudly beneath your weight. He leads you to a small room at the back and he opens the door. He quickly lights a match and brings the flame to the wick of a small candle. In seconds the room is illuminated with an orange glow.

There’s a hammock positioned just off to the right of the door and a big desk on the other side. A few books line a shelf just above the hammock and the floor is covered in crumpled pieces of paper. This place is a mess. 

The captain starts searching for something so you take the chance to further inspect the dimly lit room. You walk over to the desk and see another sword laying across a big red book on top of stacks of papers. You also see a drawing and some other miscellaneous things.

James isn’t looking so you start shuffling through the papers on the desk and come across a map. There are some markings on it. One to indicate where you are and a trail leading The Caravel right to.. what is that? 

There’s a small symbol on the map, one very similar to the one you saw on the flag.

Strange.

You only get a quick glance at it before you hear the captain hit something and curse loudly. 

“Alright I've found it, let’s go back up and help out our Jakey boy.”

You return back above deck and find Jake sitting alone.

You frown slightly at the sight of him staring out onto the water clutching his side. Why isn’t anyone comforting him? Or making sure he’s okay? And why does he keep touching the wound.

James Calico has handed you a small wooden box. You make your way beside Jake smiling up at him. He smiles back but he can't fully hide the pain that is written so clearly across his face. You open the box to find a mess of bandages and some other medical supplies. The bandages that lay in the box are a tangled mess. 

Why does everything have to be so unkept around here?

You look back at Jake's stomach. There's a large drying smear of blood connecting to the wound. Idiot.

You find something to clean the wound with and return your gaze to Jake.

“Deep breath okay?”

“Yes ma’am.” He smirks again watching your face turn a bright red color.

As carefully as you can you begin to clean around the wound. He winces slightly but it’s an easy job, you’re done before you know it.

You look back to the box of bandages. I'm gonna have to untangle all of this. “Who was the last doctor? This is gonna take so long to organize!”

“Yeah poor thing.” Jake teases. This man…

You begin the tedious task of untangling the feet and feet of bandages.

Talk to him. Talk to him. 

“How did you learn to fight like that?”

He looks up. “My father.”

“Is the captain your father?”

“No, my father died in battle but he used to be the captain of this ship. He taught me. He taught James too which is why he can beat me.” He looks away for a second. “Everyone else is too easy.” He shoots you a wink.

“I’m sorry Jake, about your father.”

“It’s alright darlin, that’s the way it goes.”

You reach your hands up to wrap the bandages around him but notice something. Hundreds of scars line his chest, his arms too, they’re everywhere. There's one particularly long one on his left arm.

He notices you looking. “Do you like them?”

“What?”

“Do you like my scars? They’re proof of all the practice I've put in, all the battles won, all the battles lost.” He beams at you.

“Oh I’m.. there’s a lot of them, some look like they never healed properly.”

Jake laughs. You bring your hands up and start to wrap the bandages around his midsection, tight but making sure not to hurt him. He shuts his eyes taking a deep breath.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize sweetheart, you’re just doin your job. Don’t ever apologize for that.”

You’re almost done wrapping the wound and a few moments of

silence pass.

🏴‍☠️           🏴‍☠️           🏴‍☠️

Jakes POV

You feel a slight stinging coming from the cut but it doesn’t bother you much. In a few days it’ll fade and become another scar on your body, another story to tell. 

But this one will be about her. Besides, it doesn’t matter, she's touching me.

This is the closest you’ve ever been to her face. The sun is shining directly over the ship and it makes her hair shine. You think back to last night and smile to yourself.

Her skin looks so smooth and soft and there’s a thin line of sweat on her forehead, and another on her lips.

My god her lips. They’re perfect. You can’t tear your eyes away from them. If she was speaking to you, you didn’t notice. After a few seconds too many you notice her staring at you which breaks you from your trance. When you realize you’ve been caught in the act you try to hide it “Hmm?”

🏴‍☠️           🏴‍☠️           🏴‍☠️

Her POV

As you're gently wrapping the bandages around his torso you try to ask him a question. When he doesn’t answer you look up to find him staring at your lips. You decide to test your theory by staying silent. A few seconds pass, he seems to be broken from his trance. “Hmm?”

You roll your eyes and continue your work but secretly you like knowing he was staring at you. Maybe he feels the same way I do…

“I’m gonna help you find your sister.”

What?

You look up at him and just stare, unsure of what to say. How does he know about her?

The harsh reminder sets a single tear rolling down your cheek. You wipe it away quickly hoping he doesn’t notice but of course he does.

“It’s okay to cry. I did, When my father died. But your sister is alive, and I'm gonna get you back to her when I can. I swear.”

A small “thank you” is all you can manage. You finish up the job and send Jake away so he doesn’t have to see you crying. You walk over to the edge of the deck looking out at the ocean. It’s a clear day, not a single cloud in the sky. You let a few tears fall before collecting yourself and returning amidship.

The crew is gathered around the captain, listening to him speak. You walk over curiously and stand next to Jake. He steps back in the circle giving you room to join.

You turn your gaze to the captain just as everyone else is doing. You try to match their stance. Strong, and tall, very much the opposite of how you’re feeling. 

“All across the west we traveled wayward for

Find the weight of dreams in gold

Heaven sent us here to meet the hallowed shore

To claim the wealth that we had sold.”

The men erupt in cheer. What was that?

Jake turns to you and whispers, “that’s just a little speech he likes to make, to start off the day. You have a lot to learn, little one.” He winks at you.

Next someone starts passing out around a crate. You watch in confusion as one by one the men stick their hands in it pulling something out.

“I’m starved!”

“Could eat a horse!”

The crate makes its way towards you and Jake lunges for it grabbing a piece of what looks like meat. He waits no time and immediately scarfs it down.

You hesitate slightly before pulling out a piece of it. What animal is this?

Jake watches you, waiting to see what you’ll do next. He finds it amusing. 

“You’re lucky you know, not all our meals are this fresh.”

You look up in horror as Jake laughs at you. You bring the meat up to your lips and take a small nibble, hardly tasting it at all.

Almost everyone is watching you now and the captain speaks up, “let’s see how the girl can handle her meat.”

The crew erupts in laughter and Jake joins them. You shoot him a look but he just shakes his head. “Come on take a bite, a real bite, it’s not that bad.”

You decide to trust him and take a bite. It’s not nearly as bad as you expected, you mostly taste salt. You take a few more bites until there’s nothing left. You’re left still hungry. Better get used to that I guess.

It only takes you a few minutes to realize that whatever that was, it was not agreeing with your stomach. You excuse yourself and make your way to the side of the deck until you're leaning over. The sight of the rocky waves are not helping in the slightest. You prepare yourself to vomit when you feel a hand on the small of your back.

You know it’s Jakes immediately. “You okay sweetheart?”

You shake your head. “It’s okay, the first day is a little rough, you just haven't got your sea legs yet.” He smiles. Jake feels bad for you but he just can’t help how adorable you look. 

You stand there for a few minutes trying to collect yourself and he just rubs your back patiently waiting for your cue. You don’t actually throw up thank god, but it does take a little bit for you to feel strong enough to stand.

“Okay, I feel better now, thanks.”

He removes his hand from your back and scoops you up in his arms playfully. You giggle. “Put me down!!” He jogs with you still in his arms and places you gently on a box of something. You both look up to find everyone staring at you. Jake clears his throat uncomfortably and walks away without another word. 

What? What was that all about?

The captain approaches him and whispers something in his ear. He nods and follows him to the other side of the ship, just out of your view. Did I do something wrong?

You stand there dumbstruck and another pirate walks towards you. He wears a red bandana and a black shirt with matching black pants. He's barefoot and he walks with a slight limp. You can see patches of his hair missing and he only has a few teeth left. When he gets close enough for you to hear him, you can smell him too.

“Ello lovely, having a rough first day are ye?” He smiles showing you his few remaining teeth. 

Instinctually you start to back away, distancing yourself from him but he continues to walk forward. Out of the corner of your eye you see another man approach the two of you. This one isn't wearing a shirt and he has on similar black pants. His hair looks like it's never been washed and he has a similar foul scent to the first man. 

“Has anyone given you a tour yet matey? Could show you where I sleep if you’d like.” He too starts closing in, giving you less and less room to move away. He grins at you wildly, moving his eyebrows up and down.

“Um no thanks.” Your voice is shaky and small, reflecting how you feel in this moment. They’re trying to scare you. It’s working. 

“What was that? You gotta speak up, we can't hear you pretty.” He speaks the name like an insult and all you wanna do is curl up into a ball.

Where's Jake? Why did he just leave me alone like this?

They step even closer to you until your back is pressed against the edge of the deck. You turn your neck around to be met with the waves crashing against the boat. You look back to see them smiling and exchanging an expression that you can't quite place. 

“Um I think I should just… go find Jake… I’m… I’m sure he's looking for me and-” 

“Oh he's not looking for you, didn’t you see him? He left you here, but that's alright we're here now, we're gonna take care of ye.” 

“That's right, your little boyfriend can't help you now, but we can.” They turn to each other and laugh, the one of the right licks his lips. 

“Jake?” You call out panicked, hoping, praying that he'll hear you over the sounds of the water. Where is he?

“He can't hear you, he can't save you.” The man mimics your scared expression. 

Your heart rate starts to pick up, and your feet are frozen. If you just stood there, what were they going to do to you? If you took any more steps backwards you would fall into the ocean and they were almost blocking you completely. No one else was paying any attention to the three of you and Jake was nowhere to be found.

They step even close until you can feel their breaths on your neck. 

“Jake?” You call out a little louder, still unsure if he can hear you.

Jakes POV

Captain Calico is scolding you about becoming too friendly with the newest recruit but you hear something. Someone yelling. 

Is that my name?

The same voice calls out again.

“Jake?” The voice is quiet but you instantly know who it is. She's calling for you. Something’s wrong. 

You cut off the captain by running towards the sound. You don’t care about the consequences of disobeying your captain, or the trouble you’ll likely be in. You hear her calling your name and you know she needs you. 

When you finally get to the other side of the boat you see a man called Peter and a man called Charles cornering her. They both share similar dangerous smiles and you can see her panic struck face searching for yours. Your eyes lock on hers and the regret of leaving her consumes you.

“What's going on here?” You walk right up to the three of them and turn to the two men.

“Is everything alright?” She rushes towards you and grabs your arm, holding you tight. It almost hurts with how hard she's squeezing you but you just pull her closer reveling in the feeling of her body pressed up against yours. 

Peter speaks up first. “Oh nothing we were just having a little fun isn't that right Charlie?” 

“Yeah we weren’t doing nothing.”

“Well that's not what it looks like to me.” You rest your hand on the leather concealing your weapon. Peter and Charlies eyes follow your hand and they look at each other. 

“Alright alright we weren’t doing nothing, we’ll just go.” 

“Right. Let's go Charlie.” 

“Yeah I think that's probably best. If either one of you ever hurt her, I swear to god you’ll both be nothing but bits and pieces of limbs strung out on the deck all bloodied and beaten.” They scurry away hurriedly but you can hear them mumbling something under their breath. You unsheath your sword and the sound alone makes them run faster.

You tuck it back into place and turn to her. You place your hands on either side of her shoulders. “Hey are you okay? I’m so sorry I left. I'll never do that again, ever.”

She looks into your eyes and her lip is quivering, her whole body is shaking. I fucked up. You bring her in for a hug and wrap yourself around her holding her tight. 

“Hey it's okay, I’m here now, they’re not gonna hurt you it's okay. Just take some deep breaths.”

She doesn’t let go for a while. You stay there holding her secretly wishing she would never let go. You can feel the warmth radiating off of her and you’ve never felt such comfort. Holding her just feels so… right.

Finally she pulls away to look at you. She is so beautiful.

“I’m so sorry, I'm so so so sorry.”

“It's okay Jake. But… why did you leave?” She looks hurt, and confused. It's killing you.

I can’t tell her why but I can’t lie to her. 

“The captain had to speak to me about something but it's okay, I'm here now.”

You feel terrible about keeping the truth from her. You know you can’t tell her about how the captain has forbidden you from having a relationship with her. You wish you could tell her about how much you like her, or about how her smile makes you feel all fuzzy inside and how all you want is to protect her for the rest of time and give her the entire world. Or even how you wanna wrap her up in your arms and never let go, or how much you want to kiss her, want to taste her.

But if the captain was ever to find out…

She frowns. She knows you’re keeping something from her but she doesn’t know how to say it so she just lets it go. There's nothing you can do other than pretend like everything's normal, so that's what you do. She sort of just looks at you for a second and then, she walks away.

Ouch.

A few minutes pass and an unexpected gray cloud makes its way to the middle of the sky covering the sun. A fog then settles around the ship enclosing it until you can’t see twenty feet ahead of you. You hear a rumble of thunder in the distance. A warning.

That's weird, that’s totally out of nowhere. 

The captain speaks, “looks like another storm might be rollin in, and to think we just got out of the last one.” He shakes his head and the crew eyes each other nervously. The last storm had depleted you of all your supplies and it almost wiped out everyone on board. Is there really another storm coming?

Another clap of thunder roars in the distance, this one slightly louder. A big bolt of lightning flashes across the cloud covered sky. She jumps slightly and turns to you at the noise. She looks scared.

“Alright men, batten down the hatches, looks like we're in for a rough night.”

A few men stand and prepare for the stormy weather. You stay behind with the others and she watches them nervously.

Say something, talk to me. Right now she doesn’t even look at you. 

🏴‍☠️           🏴‍☠️           🏴‍☠️

A few hours pass and no words are shared between you. She sits wrapped up in your blanket from when the rough water splashed overboard. Her back is turned to you. She’s mad at me. She thinks I’m keeping something from her. Well… I guess I am.

Another loud clap of thunder is heard and she turns to you again. Almost as if she's reminded of her anger towards you, she turns back around and pulls the blanket tighter around her shoulders. I should be warming her, not that stupid blanket.

It's almost time for dinner and you’re starving. You reach for your bottle of rum and take a large sip. The familiar burn calms you and you feel your body warm as you drink down the amber liquid.

She's barely even looked at me in a few hours.

The captain walks around with the same crate of meat and she takes some before you do. You watch as she eats the piece in seconds and takes a large sip of her water. You reach your hand in and take a piece. She turns to you just as your stomach rumbles loudly. 

You look into your eyes and you just can't help it. Before thinking, you hand her your dinner. I’ll be hungry tonight but she won't be. 

The smile on her face makes it all worth it. “Thanks Jake.” She takes your food and eats it quickly, washing it down once again. I wonder if she drinks, you think taking another swig. 

The cloud that was once covering the sun slowly shifts to the side allowing a bit of sunlight to poke through. 

Strange.

You take another drink and feel your body relaxing and growing numb. You’ve always drank, ever since you were a little boy. Your father had told you it was just part of life, and now you rarely go a day without it.

After finishing the bottle you stand up feeling a little wobbly. After a few minutes the cloud has shifted completely leaving the sun shining once more. 

“Well it's a bloody miracle!” James Calico looks up to the sky confused but happy. The sun begins to set as the rest of the fog clears out. That's so weird.

You feel yourself growing tired and it has been a long day, some other men stand also preparing to return to their hammocks.

Is she gonna sleep on the deck again? What if the storm actually does come?

She stands as well looking at you, almost asking the same question. You want to invite her below deck. Just the thought of her sleeping with you in your hammock makes you giddy.

She stretches her hands over her head. Come sleep with me tonight, you shouldn’t have to sleep here all alone.

“Well goodnight then.” Her face falls and instantly you regret your words. Fuck why did I say that.

She stares at you. “Goodnight.” She walks away defeated leaving you standing alone. 

I am the world's biggest idiot. You watch her for a second trying to make herself comfortable and you want to stab yourself in the chest. You follow the other men below deck and return to your room. Your own private room, the main perk of being the son of Captain Thomas Kiszka.

She still has my blanket, I hope she's warm. Maybe I could go back up and just check on her…You lay there staring up at the wood ceiling debating your next move. You finally curl yourself up shivering slightly at the loss of the familiar wool hugging you so tight. It's all for her. -

-

-

-

Part 3

(if you want to be added to the tag list interact with this post)

@little-bit-of-monica @oldandmean1 @wetkleenex-gvf @jakesharmonica @objectsinspvce @writingcold @twistedmelodies @rosabellagvf @sadiextricia @jessicafg03 @hellowgoodbye @gold-mines-melting @lexii-nv-c @alexiagx @brumlb @songbirds-sweet @starcatcherry @jaketswine @gretavanbear @serendipiti @scribblespaghett @stardustaccordian @king-moxxie @sweetmakerii @ageofsinners @indigostreaksolo @banditjake @objectsinspvce @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @amygvf13 @jonch-gvf @jaketlover @caramelmachiatto @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @katelynn-gvf @jaketlove

[soupmanspeaks]

I know I can't be the only one to think "okay, canonically, what room are we in?" when a level is played, Arts in crafts, salon, DJ Music man, Bonnie Bowl, Cold Storage, Fizzy Faz/Food Prep, Endo Warehouse, And Captain Foxy's Log Ride, are pretty easy to assume where they are, they probably all take place sporadically around the PizzaPlex, with Bonk' A' Bon and First Aid probably taking place in a backroom/storage room and some other room down below in the Pizza Sim area respectively, Which leaves Fazerblast, Carousel, and the entirety of the Sister Location levels elsewhere lol

SOOOO uhhhhh something something what if the reason why Jeremy somehow is in the areas of Sister location with the Funtimes even though its technically impossible considering Scrap Baby, Molten Freddy, Ennard, ect, is because of all of the residual remnant within the Pizza Sim area causing him to experience memories from Michael, which is why we see stuff like Ballora Gallery, SL Custom Night, Office Job: Interview, ect, like maybe this could explain the fall fest levels with Carnie, because then the player'd be tapping into Henry's memories, be it his experience at Fall Fest or just his recollection of Carnie/Lefty, Or maybe its not even Henry, maybe its just a cycle of that one plot of land having so much stuff happen to it, like what if before there was Fredbear's there, the Fall Fest was also held on/near that plot of land? So maybe it could function similarly to the ITP Ballpit where the memories/agony/remnant/experiences in, around, or near it can transport someone in a memory or, "Back in time"?

[rukimakino-heirofheart]

🔥Puella Magi Madoka Magica

🔥Renaruki

🔥 MadoMagi:

The original anime was pretty mediocre and had a mediocre soundtrack. Its fatal flaw is that it tries to center itself around a single main character (Madoka Kaname herself) whose viewpoint we see the world through, but her characterization physically cannot get focus in this format in an anime, because you just don't get to see how deeply screwed up her worldview is if you never know what she's thinking. Consequently, you actively lose information by telling the story in a format other than a novel or VN. (Observant viewers may recognize this as the same ultimate problem behind why adapting FSN for the screen inherently requires getting more exposit-y about Shirou's deal.) Ultimately, I wholeheartedly recommend skipping the MadoMagi TV anime entirely; most of the best parts of the Puella Magi Series are elsewhere and don't expect familiarity with a disappointing TV anime. (The Different Story, Rebellion, and Wraith Arc escape this curse by not being Madoka-centric, instead focusing on more conventional protagonists in Kyouko and Homura.)

Rebellion was a perfectly fine ending in and of itself, and it doesn't need a sequel. The only reason I'm interested in Walpurgis no Kaiten's existence is that it seems to be going so far out of left field that I kind of have to entertain it and find out what the cook is.

Of the "classic" Puella Magi titles (pre-2017, i.e. before Magia Record), I'd rank them like this:

Puella Magi Tart Magica - Masugitsune

Puella Magi Oriko Magica - Kuroe Mura

Extended Puella Magi Madoka Magica Series - Gen Urobuchi (TV, Rebellion, Wraith Arc) & Masaki Hiramatsu (TDS) & Hanokage (Wraith Arc)

Puella Magi Suzune Magica - GAN

Puella Magi Kazumi Magica - Masaki Hiramatsu

Rankings of Tart and Oriko may be swapped depending on how I'm feeling that day.

This is not to say that Suzune and Kazumi are bad manga, but the former quite infamously ran into production troubles and the latter bit off way more than it could chew, and it shows. Kazumi has a lot of cool plot ideas and themes in play but reading it for the first time can feel like being subjected to a plot point firing squad. The original manga run of Suzune was good but not spectacular -- it didn't truly get to shine until the MagiReco crossover events started happening. (It has been 1200 days since the last Suzune event...)

MagiReco fans often describe Arc 2 as "when it gets good," and it's common to write off Arc 1 entirely as an extended prologue, however I do still maintain that Arc 1 is a good story on its own terms. You can feel the weight of the production issues (there's a very noticeable midpoint shift where a major rewrite happened) but it's still a perfectly fine and coherent story. Most of what the fandom writ large likes to call "flaws of Arc 1" are just, intentional foreshadowing.

When AniReco (the companion anime to MagiReco that tells a completely separate story)'s final batch of episodes originally came out that fateful April 3, I gave the production as a whole a massive side-eye (I distinctly remember logging on and asking a chatroom I was in "what is even happening?? Why is the anime Folklore of Zero propaganda all of the sudden?? Wait, Neo Dorothy Motherfucker???? Huh??????"), but I've since warmed up to it. It's its own thing, and you have to have its place in the series' cosmology and the showrunner's goals in writing it explained to you first before you start watching, and it makes some writing decisions I find to be questionable, but it did a remarkably good job for a series that was slashed from 39 episodes down to 25 halfway through.

Apparently this is a hot take now: I like Nagisa Momoe's actual backstory as detailed in MagiReco a hell of a lot better than "dumb idiot child wished for cheese instead of healing her ailing mother." The collected Nagisa cycle of MagiReco stories makes her arguably the single most interesting member of the Holy Quintet.

I want more Kyubey worldbuilding, goddammit! We know precious little -- the Incubators were created by an advanced alien civilization (local expert Touka Satomi, A1C9), and their tissue is analogous to stem cells and can be reconfigured on the fly (Kosane Kiriha, NMG) -- and I need to know more! What were the progenitors like? Did they wipe themselves out? Actually, now that I think about it, are Incubators like Touhou's shikigami where you take fleshy hardware and flash it with your own artificial intelligence? We know a human can control one (Madoka uses LoC-branded pink Incubators for surveillance purposes) and we know a human can have their soul shoved into one losslessly (mokyu!), so like, what are the limitations here? Hell, the Pleiades made their own once! It sucked at its job, but it existed! How did they do that? Tell meeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

I think that even in the absence of the Automatic Purification System, being a magical girl is just kind of objectively better than being human. You get to opt out of mortality, you get private(-ish) telepathic communication for free, you get a shrunken hitbox -- no more worrying about workplace safety hazards as long as you protect the gem! -- you get a weirdly specific personal magic that varies in effectiveness from Konomi's baton pass to Iroha's localized time reversal, and even if you don't get something useful you still have a magical weapon that you can spawn on command. That's even before we get into the existence of Coordinators, and the logical applications of their Adjustment magic in gender-affirming care. To be quite honest, if Kyubey ever had reason to approach me, my wish would probably just straight-up be "immediately megucify every human who exists right now and every human who will ever exist in the future regardless of energy cost."

I'm scared of the new Magia Exedra mobage's existence because (1) it's very prominently advertised as being Quintet-centric and I'm sick and tired of the Quintet, and (2) there's a nonzero chance it will take resources away from Magia Record to focus instead on what seems, if the credits on the website are to be believed, to be a shitty autobattler. MagiReco is the best thing the Puella Magi Series has ever done and I want it to survive well past its tenth anniversary.

🔥 RenaRuki:

Okay, seriously, did the entire Tamers fandom collectively forget that, past a certain part of the D-Reaper arc, none of the Primary Colors are actually human anymore? Because it feels like I'm the only one who's acknowledging this, despite the fact that "Ruki, alienated from humanity, voluntarily gives it up, while Renamon, aligned with humanity, is a trans woman" seems like a pretty obvious thread to work with, and being turned into a digital life-form offers plenty of opportunities for neat body horror, not even to mention how this affects the ways in which Ruki's Candy timeline counterpart has steadily been getting worse for two decades.

[Side note: I really need better names for the "more canon" movie timeline that's relevant, essential and true, and the "less canon" drama CD timeline that isn't. If I keep calling them Meat and Candy I'm going to get weird looks from the non-Homestucks.]

I swear I had more observations I was going to put here but I got sidetracked. Might add on a reblog later.

[am-i-sans]

dnd adventures 45

IM BACK BITCHES

somehow were back on the dragon i dunno why. dess stretches and comments she feels so stiff, like shes been standing still for 5 months. where are we? cam comments we killed a snake and now werre on a dragon. cam offers dess birdseed and frog and dans take some lol. frog says there was no snake.

theres a town! landing! theres tree stumps everywhere. dont tell me its the lorax. fuck you. dess looks down and goes "is that fucking kneedville?" dans asks how she knows this place and she says she gets around a lot. she can show us around!

the land is dead. susie just fucks off. were all following her lol. we see the sneeds, awful fashion. undyne wants one to hold the baby lol. dans wants one too lol. cam is aghast how awful it looks lol.

those trees look so weird and fluffy. cam is trying to climb it lol. cam got up nice! dess checks if the tree is magical, their not its just like that. cam yanks out a piece of fluff! dans asks if tori wants to talk to the trees.

tori and frog leave to talk to a tree dans is babysitting suzy. inferno is who knows! no chicken place in town for suzy DX tori says hi to cam and asks the tree whats going on around here. cam keeps trying to get the tree to eat birdseed. tree says they've been being harvested.

cam jumps off the tree and dess catches them, holding them like burger. tori asks the tree whos in charge of killing them. cam tries to get away and dess just tosses them over her shoulder lol. tree says they have to ask the lorax for details. tree tells tori they want a non violent way to end this but their not opposed if she kills him.

undyne asks a local where they can buy a sneed. in the shop theres so many sneeds for sale. dans messages undyne to get him one too. 100 gold what a ripoff. undyne swaddles the temmie in it, it starts crying xD cam and dess show up nice. cam is distressed that undyne and dans are dressed badly lol. dans pays undyne back for the sneed lol.

dess walks up to undyne so cam can see the sneed lol. cam tries to get dans to help them get out of dess's grip and dans laughs and tells dess to take cam into the sneed store xD cam falls on their face and scramble over to undyne wtf. dess takes suzy to the sneed store lol.

shes hiding a sneed in another to steal one lol. she succeeds and forces the pink one on cam lol. they toss it off and keep looking for inferno. inferno falls out of eeby deeby right on cam lol. the void egg landed on his head!

cam wants to do crimes with inferno wtf. they really wanna burn down the sneed shop and steal the money back. cam pays inferno wtf. inferno lies in wait xD

suzy smells meat and goes running off so dans follows her. fuck yeah meat! its someones barbeque and she demands dans gets her some meat! arbys run by dr seuss! shes hungy and chows down. dans says hes on a strict diet.

back to toriel asking about the lorax! dess and cam are independently going to the tree. gotta find the lorax! tori headed there earlier so dess and cam see her in the distance and rush to catch up.

as they walk cam gets tired and climbs up tori. someone tied a sneed to cam without them noticing and they scream and spike it. inferno goes eeby deeby for a bit damn. frog laughs and asks what their looking for. toris looking for the lorax! cam trips over a rock and goes eeby deeby.

frog starts calling out for the lorax. he shows up and somehow they all know he sounds like danny devito despite him not existing here. theres a stump now suddenly he can sit on. how. it turned into a log wtf. dans elsewhere comments he thinks his ex showed up.

dess asks the lorax, calling him devito, if hes dated dans xD inferno escapes eeby deeby! tori said he didnt have to answer that lol. he tells us about the onceler and what an asshole he is. (dans starts humming that one song to himself lol)

"does he say how ba-a-ad can i be?" dess how do you know that. lorax wants to avoid murder this is the wrong group for that xD they hear an explosion! that was frog the little shit. dess mentions gamercave ffs xD she speaks to tori in sylvain they might need to kill the onceler forgetting lorax is fey lol. she calls it a situationship! dess comments on god hating her xD

inferno calls the sneeds ugly in front of the shopkeeper. fireball directly at the sneeds and shopkeepers! yeah their dead lol. inferno takes 17 damage. he robs the register nice. time to book it!

[swimming-karyss]

(zoom in to see her freckles better)

More about Rouge, Makino and Goa(there is a simple map! to know who's where) under cut

In this au Rouge tries to hide her presence and identity as much as she can, and flees to Earth, as it's the most quiet and uneventful human settlement she could think of. She was able to find a place to live and not attract much attention, but her pregnancy isn't going so well, and her health is deteriorating, and then Garp finds her-

... to proclaim her as his daughter? ..?

Roger's last wish was for Garp to take care of his child, so obviously it also extends to the mother, right? right. And the least suspicious excuse for his help would be blood connection. Plus some protection from Garp's status. And the excuse for him not telling anyone about his daughter? also his status. He has too many enemies in the criminal word to let anyone get such information. Plus his actual son pretty much hates him too, so not much change there👍

With Garp's help Rouge was put in a good hospital, and while Ace was born without any complications, her health left much to be desired. She stayed under doctors's care for a couple of years, (I think Garp has brought both Ace and Dadan to visit her in the hospital on some occasions, once the boy was old enough). When her health has gotten better she and Ace moved to the Wind turbines district, because air there isn't as polluted as in the city, and it may help with her health a bit. She still can't be very active but slow strolls near the forest are already something. Rouge gets along with Dadan, because on good days she can match her temper very well, and while neither Rouge nor Ace really know how to approach each other, they will come to it one day. Her days are very uneventful, she tries to keep in touch with the news, and keep tabs on friends, but most of them lay low, so she doesn't get much information, and she can't contact them because it will bring attention to her. Another highlight of her days is Garp visiting during his vacation to check in on them. Rouge would rather not see him at all, but he complains about her friends specifically and some of the stuff he says can't be found in news (it's restricted information, Garp! you can't just- ah whatever), so only for this reason his presence is tolerable. It becomes more tolerable once he starts to bring Luffy with him(oh so what's why he spends half of his vacation month elsewhere), usually only for the duration of Garp's vacation, but after a couple of years the boy just stays for the whole summer. Rouge doesn't respect Garp in the slightest, and isn't afraid to show it (he knows he deserves it) but his sunshine grandson has nothing to do with it! plus, honestly, Ace and his sad kitten of a friend really could use some company. .....and they try to avoid him as much as they can. oh, these children....... But at least Ace seems to start to grow on Luffy as time goes on.

Also has anyone read Yokohama Kaidashi Kikō/Yokohama Shopping Log? bc that's pretty much the state the Earth is in in this AU. In a sense that the civilisation there is slowly deteriorating, many things happened there, it's greatly scarred by wars and poisoned by humanity's negligence. But all of it is in the past, many humans left to conquer other stars, hoping not to repeat past mistakes, ecosystems have recovered with the help from humanity (it's our beloved home planet after all), and now it was left to nature to reclaim, while only some sparks of human activity remain. Goa kingdom is one of them.

(Also Moon&Mars were the first places humanity colonized, so to simplify, Moon is something like a countryside you go to visit your grandparents, and Mars is an industrial city that was built for the plant, and the plant long since stopped working, so while the city didn't stop existing, it's definitely not as active or populous as it used to be)

(Venus is known for its scientists and researchers, civilians don't live there. Some moons of gas giants are colonised, and gas giants themselves have research stations. Same with asteroids)

(inner circle serves as the Romance Dawn East blue, (the weakest of the seas and the quietest star system) , I couldn't really think about something for the Red Line, but as some kind of treacherous entrance to more dangerous world, asteroid belt would work just fine. I'll think what to do with Crocus and Laboon later... outer circle is a couple of first islands of the grand line. The whole galaxy is divided into six parts. Four sectors of the habitable galaxy(four blues), inner core(Mary Geoise) and the edge of the galaxy (the grand line) or something like that)

Kingdom of Goa is a coastal city-state on Earth. (king is more of a figurehead than a real ruler, in actuality it's an Oligarchy). It's a rather prosperous city, but only the central District of the city enjoys it fully. There is still a problem with wealthy people disposing of their stuff just because it's out of fashion, but the trash managing is a bit better thanks to sci-fi, so there isn't a giant area of trash heap.

'Countryside' is where Wind turbines district is! I've decided that it's more of a countryside than suburbs, bc I prefer to subject my beloveds to other kind of horrors. This district gets most of its energy thanks to wind turbines, hence the name. Some people have person wind generators, and most of the wind turbines is on the shore. Of course this means that the access to the sea is restricted, but. it's as close to the big city as it can be. I really wouldn't advise to swim in there anyway. even going to the mountains to swim in the river is less hazardous.

Makino's bar (simplified) ↓. It's a really cool bar with futuristic interior and neon lights. It's near the spaceport, too far to get a ton of visitors, but close enough to still see interesting clients. On the floor above is Makino's apartment.

Also Makino is older in this au, because I cannot put the task of raising a child and managing a bar on a teenager! Once Luffy started staying with Rouge for the whole summer Makino got her number to check in on Luffy. They continued communication throughout the rest of the year, because both of them could use both company(mostly Rouge) and friendly advice(mostly Makino). While Makino's bar is small enough for her to manage it by herself, there is actually a part-time employee here. Luffy found a concerningly intelligent kid somewhere, and she's not a big fan of letting children stay on the street. Plus he helps Luffy with his studies, and the boy really needs some help with that. (funnily enough, Luffy is the only one of the ASL who went to school... at least for a while)

Also while Makino and Rouge have never actually met personally, they have developed a great friendship! Once Rouge is confident enough in her health she decides to pay a visit to her and brings Ace with her. Makino is delighted. Particularly because she'll finally meet a dear friend! (yay!) and partially because she came to a certain realisation, and she is sure to have some fun once these people all come together.

I'm not really sure what to make of Shanks yet, so I'll leave him for a while. All I know is that he visited Earth in the end of August, to spend a year there. And it was the main reason why Garp decided to let Luffy stay with Rouge for the whole summer, to keep him away from that red haired idiot.

[mercurytrinemoon]

Ok, I logged off, switched to my old account and scrolled through the blog that blocked me to see why was I blocked. I didn't find out but I saw this:

(posting a screenshot cause obviously I can't reblog an account that blocked me. I'm about to be as nice and constructive as possible. I really like starastrologyy's points and examples and how they put it but some here are clearly too ignorant to understand eloquent takes)

The pretentious and dismissive tone while being clearly misinformed is not it for me so I'm gonna use this opportunity to remind everyone that, if you're studying astrology:

you learn to understand that astrology has its seeds in, wait for it... divination and predicting nation-wide events and politics (used mostly for royals) through literal observations of astronomical phenomena. Without that you probably wouldn't even have natal astrology

therefore you do NOT act conceited and disregard the basis and half of the astrological practice that predictive techniques are

you do NOT undermine other people's beliefs about fatedness of their lives as the topic of fate has been strongly intertwined with the practice of astrology since its beginnings

in turn you pick up a book and learn the history and tradition of astrology because some of you are clearly lacking that knowledge yet you act like a total know-it-alls and the ultimate astrology gurus

also, a general life rule, if you don't understand and/or don't have the knowledge on something, simply don't speak on it and certainly do not act arrogant about it

If you so angrily stand for free will and nothing else then that just shows your hyperfixation over some inner insecurity that you have. You're in no position to criticize that some believe in fate and predeterminism. Do you also want to question the whole philosophical movement that stoicism is? Because that was strongly linked with astrology. Maybe some do prefer to lean slightly into that? That no matter what you do, you'll still end up in the spot you're supposed to end up in? That takes away so much anxiety and pressure - to just let go and surrender to what destiny has in store for you.

If you're not interested in predictive techniques for one reason or another, that's fine but saying that it's all bs and astrology has no impact on worldly events just shows your lack of knowledge and lack of respect not only for the astrological craft itself but also the incredible work of people like Richard Tarnas or for astrologers who do have the skills to predict very specific events.

What you CAN argue about is if the stars are causes or signs of events (which, most astrologers would agree that planets act like markers, rather than a literal provokers, but there are those who go with the causal notion and that's totally fine), you CAN even debate on the spectrum of determinism - both were the topic of discussions since the ancient times. But to disregard it completely? If you so religiously believe in free will ONLY then good for you, although I don't really know what you're then doing studying astrology if you're basically calling things coincidental or doing "pick and choose". If so, maybe just call the whole astrology coincidental as well.

Just to bring in a good quote on what astrology was always about:

"Astrology became known as a system, if not the system, that could be used in order to study one's fate. The astrologers themselves were clear that this was what they were doing with astrology. For example, Manilius speaks of our ability to use astrology to 'learn the laws of fate', while Firmicus constantly uses different variations of a phrase in order to say that the role of the astrologer, or the role of astrology, is 'studying the fate of men' or 'explaining the fates of men'. Valens once refers to astrologers as 'soldiers of fate', and elsewhere says that a good astrologer is 'a guide to life, a good advisor and an unerring prophet of fate.'" - Hellenistic Astrology: the study of fate and fortune, Chris Brennan

[aihoshiino]

I haven't read the Spica novel since I don't know Japanese, so your latest ONK post had me wondering why you thought it was a bad novel?

So full disclosure: I have not read Spica in full yet in its original form but I have been working on a TL of the free preview which was posted by the publishers (which you can see here) and the rough TLs/summaries posted by folks in the fandom who bought the book - I, uh, feel slightly off about directly linking to those since they are reproducing content from a paid published release and I don't know exactly where that falls in terms of Piracy And OnK Leaks which I know Mengo especially feels really bad about, but you can easily find them by looking up the associated search terms on Pastebin (tho be aware, you apparently have to be logged in to search Pastebin's database??? TIL I guess)

If it wasn't for the free preview, I'd be more willing to put some of my issues with it down to just TL choices made by people who were quickly summarizing the novel for the fandom but like... between having access to the actual prose and how much the summary TLs are just straight up giving you chunks from the novel, there was enough consistency with the stuff that was not passing the smell check that I feel pretty confident in saying that Spica just flat out has issues. I actually did a bit of a ramble elsewhere talking about my issues with it way more concisely than my initial attempt here

(message from claire 40+ minutes after writing the above sentence: i'm sorry. i'm so sorry. i lied. the following passage is 900+ words long.)

Spica stands out pretty distinctly from Akasaka's short stories in that the Tanaka written parts of the novel are all in third person limited POV vs 45510 and Viewpoint B being in first person. Spica also has the issue of being EXTREMELY heavyhanded and hamfisted in terms of its emotional beats to the point where I felt it was straight up tacky and emotionally manipulative at multiple points, in ways that betrayed the spirit of the story it was trying to tell.

Like, as a point of contrast, in Viewpoint B, Ai casually mentions that she's on the verge of aging out of the children's home she was in and that her relatives who were supposed to adopt her backed out and dumped her after meeting her for the first time. The story does not linger on this beat, aside from Kyun's stunned reaction that something so shitty is happening to the invincible seeming Ai. The situation is just laid out in front of the reader and they are allowed to have their own emotions naturally arise from their own sense of empathy for Ai. In contrast, in the Ai-centric prologue to Spica, the story cannot go more than a few exchanges of dialogue without hammering in just how horrible everyone in Ai's life is to her and how tragic everything is. It is SO eager to do this that it trips into straight up contradicting how Akasaka has talked about these events and it's not the only time.

It's maybe a nitpicky complaint, but there are a lot of small moments in Spica that have timeline snarls or just contradictions in vibes and tone that make it feel like it was written by someone who just… didn't really know or care all that much about Oshi no Ko. For example, the first song Sarina makes Gorou listen to is implied to be Sign wa B and he quotes its opening line ("We're your idols, the sign is B!") while talking about it. The issue here is that Sign wa B wasn't released until after Ai came back from her hiatus following the twins' birth so its appearance here is at least four years out from it actually being created.

There are various other small timeline snarls like that and a few that are not necessarily textual contradictions but feel off from how things are portrayed in the manga — Gorou being totally ignorant of how bad Sarina's condition is in Spica vs the implication that he was well aware of it in the main manga. These sort of contradictions happen because the story is CONSTANTLY reaching for like… there's no kind way to describe this, but it is constantly grabbing at cheap emotional payoff by leaning excessively on references and calls forward to beats from the main story, hamfistedly setting them up and repeating them so clumsily that it almost feels like it cheapens them by comparison. To once again talk about Ai, because the Battle Royale collar around my neck will go off if I go more than 1000 words without doing so, the epilogue of Spica has this absolutely fucking excruciating conversation between Ai and Ichigo where they look up at the actual Spica star itself and Ichigo goes off on this random tangent about how it's a BINARY, TWIN STAR known for its AQUAMARINE SHINE and Ai (who is 12 at this point btw lol) has this whooooole speech about how it's so lovely that the star has a twin so it's never alone and she hopes that if SHE has a family that SHE has twins and WOOOOWWW WOULDN'T THAT BE CRAZYYYY… and basically the whole novel is like this. It's like the emotional equivalent of the fucking Superdictionary LMFAO

My other big issue with Spica is just that I absolutely despise how it chooses to characterize Sarina. While I can't necessarily say she's OOC just because there's so little Actual Sarina Herself pagetime in OnK, there's this really… honestly skeevy as fuck bent to the way she's written in Spica that actually really upsets me. Spica really leans into sexualizing her feelings for Gorou in a way that feels like pandering to people who have a thing for bratty, uppity loli characters perving on adult men. It 99.99999999999% almost absolutely definitely was not but those are the only words I can find to describe the vibes here.

The INSTANT she and Gorou meet, before they've ever had a full conversation or ever started idol fangirling together, Sarina immediately goes GOSH WHAT IF I WANTED TO BE UR GF ;) and makes a joke in her brain about Gorou being an S (Sadist) and not an M (Masochist). Later, after the two of them have spent time together and she's come to a bit of epiphany about her feelings for him, Sarina cries and laments his lack of interest in her, putting it down to the fact that she has "absolutely no charm as a woman" and like… I'm sorry but what the actual fuck is going on here!!! Sarina is twelve years old!! She is a prepubescent child!!!! NOTHING about Sarina's behaviour in OnK or her upbringing that we hear about elsewhere has the slightest indication that it should organically result in her articulating herself like that. There is absolutely nothing wrong with writing a child developing a puppy love crush on a reliable adult like a doctor or a teacher because… that stuff happens in real life! You can write that stuff without it feeling creepy or objectifying but Spica absolutely indulges in both of those things.

I'm forcing myself to stop here because I genuinely thought this was going to be a quick response banged out before I had to start dinner prep and then I ended up in hell but the long and short of it is that I feel like the Spica-original portions of the novel just... betray the spirit of OnK in a way that I really don't enjoy. To put it in academic terms, it just lacks the sauce.

[u5an5]

SCP : Sedition - SCP-049

<- Previous | Masterlist | Next ->

.

[START LOG]

_

Jacobs: Let's get this over with.

Guard: Sir, O-5 Council must never-

Jacobs: Direct orders from the council. My expendability has been reached, it seems.

Guard: Sir! Jacobs... He could kill you.

Jacobs: I'm dead either way. Never was partial to a bullet.

Jacobs: Close camera feeds. If my death is caught on film, I don't want to give them the satisfaction.

Guard: Already done. And, Sir... good luck.

_049 cell_

*Jacobs is talking to his tape recorder, standing next to the door of the holding cell. 049 is standing few meters ahead*

Jacobs: I will be conducting a mandatory interview with the SCP designated as 049, also known as the "Plague Doctor". This interview is taking place at the Bridge Facility, July 27th 2018.

Jacobs: Due to the nature of containment and history thereof with the subject, your cooperation in these proceedings is required, under penalty of any and all privileges being revoked. Do you understand the terms?

SCP-049: ...It's good to see you again, Administrative Oversight Jacobs. Pleasant to encounter a familiar face.

[Rest bellow the cut]

Jacobs: Site director. Answer the question

SCP-049: Oui. Aves-vous peur de ce qu'ils pourraient entendre? (Yes. Are you afraid of what they might hear?)

Jacobs: Non, et tu peuxparlier anglais. (No, and you can speak english)

SCP-049: As you wish. Come to co-opt another service of me? You promised me a worthwhile test subject last time.

Jacobs: He... had to meet his end elsewhere.

SCP-049: More's the pity. In him I sensed so much of the pestilence building, twisting his very DNA, corrupting all life around him. if i remember correctly, it was your offer of Mr. Lambert's body that brought your delay from undergoing my procedure.

Jacobs: Unless you want to go fishing in an acid bath to find it, I wouldn't get your hopes up that that promise will ever be fulfilled.

SCP-049: Now the years have passed, my list of patients grows stale. And the pestilence has made a meal of you. It festers even now, greater than any I've witnessed before. You won't be able to buy your way out this time, my friend.

Jacobs: I know.

SCP-049: ...However, I am willing to entertain your notion of an interview. For old times sake.

Jacobs: Mercy for the infected? That's not like you, Doctor.

SCP-049: Call it a mellowing of nature, or the smell of Lavender from your breast pocket. I'm feeling... indulgent.

_

*Jacobs is now sitting on one of two beds in 049s room, on the one farther from 049 that is*

Jacobs: Let's start from the beginning, shall we? How did you come to be taught about the Great Pestilence? Did anyone teach you the skills you currently possess? Where did it come from?

SCP-049: The Great Pestilence is older than you could possibly comprehend.

Jacobs: Any chance I could get some actual details?

SCP-049: It is a factual enough answer.

Jacobs: <annoye> It's evasive and only the first goddamn question!

Guard: Site Director-

Jacobs: <pissed of> I know! I-!

Jacobs: <trying to calm down> I know. Look. I'll make this simple, answer me appropriately, and you don't spend the rest of containment in a one-by-one cell.

SCP-049: You drive a hard bargain. Very well: No. I had no pedagogue to instruct me on the ways of the Pestilence, nor the intricacies of treatment. What has been gleaned, has all been derived from personal interactions and studies. Or was... until my access to resources was unwisely stemmed.

Jacobs: What of its origins?

SCP-049: Ah, now that is a mystery I cannot help but be vague with. Wherefore indeed? Theories abound, but none are set in stone. Judging from how intertwined the Pestilence is with its victims, tied directly into every molecule and fiber, most, if not all, life upon this world is infected. Carried from birth it seems, so it may be hereditary.

Jacobs: If it's as old as you claim, why hasn't it mutated into something more lethal? Why haven't we been wiped out?

SCP-049: That is not the nature of the Pestilence. It cannot exist without a host. Like any virus, it must maintain its ecosystem. But the changes are small, unnoticeable, minuscule. Perhaps it existed within the primordial soup from which life first erupted into being? Piggybacking of the first sentient creatures to take root on Earth.

SCP-049: Mayhaps an offshoot of some prehistoric neolithic variant of human ancestry interbreeding with a deformity, creating a sequence of genes that retroactively attack and overwhelm it's host-

Jacobs: Layman's terms, doctor.

SCP-049: *as if he didn't hear Jacobs* -Or has the pestilence merely become unavoidable, when all infants are born pure, but immediately exposed to its effects through contact? Nutrients? Too young and indefensible to protect themselves, they wouldn't stand a chance. Would a single party benefit from a virus such as this? Is it a means for control? Or an exertion of power?

Jacobs: What does any of that mean? 

SCP-049: It means what it is always meant. Behind all the theorizing and contemplation, my eons of study: <devastated> I don't... know.

Jacobs: <dubiously> But- How did you come into contact with it? You must have had a first patient?

SCP-049: And like most in my profession each and every one bleeds together. I recall miniscule details. A solitary merchant on the road, desperately clinging to his wares for safety. Twin sisters barely alive in desperate need of relief, their parents, lords, queens, nobles, and peasants. Rich, poor, disenfranchised, well-to-do, an ocean of patients.

Jacobs: <stuttering> I-I get the picture. You must remember where it all began for you..?

SCP-049: ...

SCP-049: An overgrown cottage on the outskirts of a decrepit battle-worn castle. I had been passing by on my way from... I cannot recall. When I was flagged down by a distressed servant to a prince. Humans were scarce in the region, and so my services were desperately sought. The prince's bride had been struck with an ailment of unknown origin, and her life was feared in jeopardy.

SCP-049: However, upon reaching the hut, separated from the rest of the court to keep the illness from spreading, I discovered the source.

Jacobs: Origin of the Pestilence?

SCP-049: Not quite. While her ailment was severe, his was far greater. The symptoms were present, if subdued, but I felt a great well of Pestilence within. Not the source, but a carrier, capable of spreading it far and wide. I could not allow any of them to refuse treatment, it would go against any ethical code I hold dear.

Jacobs: You killed them all.

SCP-049: Cured them all. First the cottage, then the castle. They were willing at first, but much like yourself, they were displeased with the results. They opted to flee and burn their castle, with myself and their healed brethren trapped inside. They thought much like you: That I create monsters from the ill. That is the farthest from the truth. I create life.

SCP-049: <growing agitated> It is not I who destroys what they do not understand, it was here that I learned, that in order to achieve what must be done to eradicate the Pestilence, I would have to be as ruthless as I am dedicated.

Jacobs: And look where that's got you.

SCP-049: Exactly where I need to be. For here is where I can best influence the outcome of the Pestilences spread, given the power to do so.

_

Jacobs: Are you immune to the Pestilence? 

SCP-049: I am more than well equipped to prevent the strain being passed on to me.

Jacobs: That wasn't my question.

SCP-049: Hmm..?

Jacobs: <through clenched teeth> Are you. immune. to the Pestilence?

SCP-049: ...

Jacobs: Have you been infected since birth like the rest of us? Or have you managed to whip up some kind of miracle cure just for yourself?

SCP-049: I'm... not sure I understand the meaning of your inquiry.

Jacobs: You've said every living thing on Earth has this... thing. According to you, I have it. Yet... I don't feel anything wrong with me.

SCP-049: An insidious virus. Is it not?

Jacobs: <sputters> That's not what we're talking about. Focus, 049.

SCP-049: My apologies, but your words aren't making much sense. It borders on incoherent babbling.

Jacobs: <under breath, to himself> Christ, you're as bad as my ex.

SCP-049: Pardon?

Jacobs: Never mind! ...Once more: You've maintained all organic life carries the Pestilence, correct?

SCP-049: That would be an accurate assumption.

Jacobs: You've also theorized that it lays semi-dormant within us from an early age: childhood.

SCP-049: Not all together correct, but yes. This is a valid conclusion.

Jacobs: Then if you too were born as helpless as other children exposed, would that not also make you a carrier?

SCP-049: I... I do not believe so.

Jacobs: Why not? You're just as likely as anyone else, by your own logic.

SCP-049: That is untrue. I possess many methods of combating infection.

Jacobs: <unbelieving> Uh- Yes, now you do! But what about before?

SCP-049: I do not understand what you're saying! This is nonsense!

Jacobs: <gradually louder> As nonsensical as a sick doctor treating patients just as ill as he is? If you are infected, aren't you more likely to spread this Pestilence rather than contain it? Is it possible that the only reason you find it wherever you go is because it follows you!

SCP-049: <furious> STOP!

SCP-049: (deep inhale) Stop. Cease this. I am willing to answer your queries, but as part of an interview. Not an inquisition! Is that understood?

*Jacobs silently looks at 049, then down at his questionnaire*

_

Jacobs: Despite appearing to be wearing a medieval Plague Doctor's uniform, our studies have determined your clothing is made from muscle and skin tissue. In other words, it's all part of your anatomy. My question is: How is this possible?

SCP-049: That, my dear acquaintance, depends upon your perspective.

Jacobs: Well?

SCP-049: Any good doctor must single out a diagnosis in order to treat a patient. Given several indications one is led to a conclusion. And thus the road to a cure. But in order to walk the proper path of healing, one must be sure they are tracing the cause, and not the symptom.

Jacobs: Which one are you then? The cause, or the symptoms?

SCP-049: Et donc, l'étudiant devient le maître. (And so, the student becomes the master.) How does that saying go? Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. It astounds me how similar a mentality humanity is to a virus. How eager you are to assimilate another, simply because you can. You excuse it through reason or feeling, but all the same, you carry out your shared function... without fail.

Jacobs: Are you saying that Plague Doctors were inspired by you?

SCP-049: <gradually with more hatred> I can hardly call what those imposters became an "inspiration". A virus would not be so if it were not for its imperfections. In its attempt to impersonate, the virus is unable to change one but durable difference: itself. An imitation is still an invitation, no matter how many skins you wear, or reasons to justify your appearance.

SCP-049: To say they lost sight of the importance of my work, is to imply they even understood that concept in the first place.

Jacobs: ...They didn't believe you.

SCP-049: They watched. They learned. And then they left, to kill colds and coughs and broken bones. Insignificant in the wake of such destruction as the pestilence presents. These "doctors" call themselves men of science, but elect to ignore the enormous catastrophe waiting on the doorstep. Why would I associate myself with such blind stupidity?

Jacobs: And yet, their "blind stupidity" has created a wealth of knowledge in the ways of treating the ill, not just with medicine, but dignity. From the Dark Ages, new science has brought about the health and well-being of billions across centuries of study. Is that not a thing to be proud of?

SCP-049: And in their ignorance, have merely healed the sick, in order to further propagate the Pestilence, prolonging the inevitable downfall. All your treatments and advances are meaningless, buying your only temporary respite. What good is dignity and medicine against the wrath of the Pestilence?

Jacobs: Then again, that's (with unbelieving chuckle) not what my question was about. You're very eager to remain ignorant of the subject at hand, 049. Are you afraid to answer?

SCP-049: Ridiculous.

Jacobs: Then answer me!

SCP-049: <annoyed> I am as such because I was born as such. Do humans question their own anatomy? Do they claim awareness of life before the Neanderthal? Do you hold any perception of time before birth? Before life? Before creation? Do you know? Or do you rely on observation and history to write the past for you?

Jacobs: You don't know. Hell of a roundabout way of saying as much. But we know something of your anatomy. Your skeletal structure, though enveloped in... this, is still human. Is it possible you were human at some point?

SCP-049: Flesh is still flesh, regardless of its shape. While the bones lay the foundations, the rest of the structure is influenced by it's environment, tailored to best suit its needs.

Jacobs: Are you saying you're like this... because of evolution?

SCP-049: I would not label myself as such. What I am saying is that my construction, indifferent of similar traits, was made to carry out a singular purpose. And that... is my only concern.

_

Jacobs: Are you the only one of your kind?

SCP-049: Of... doctors?

Jacobs: No, of you. Beings like you.

SCP-049: If there are, or ever have been, we have never encountered one another. Nor have I particularly dedicated myself to finding out the answer to your question.

Jacobs: You've you ever been curious at all? Finding out whether or not you are, truly, the only one of your kind?

SCP-049: My "kind", as you put it, rests less on the physiology of my person, and more upon the practice. My kind are men of science, logic, and reason. Medical practitioners, not species. Since it is quite clear any biological classification would be useless, given my own personal lack of health issues, I have no use for one. I am not diagnosing myself.

Jacobs: How very selfless of you. (deep inhale) I suppose we would have encountered another by now, if there were more of you in the world. <to himself> Perish the thought. Well, instead of another of your race, what about colleagues or assistants? Have you ever had an apprentice?

SCP-049: Several over the last millennia and a half. Some have remained after the rest abandoned by work, others who followed after witnessing my prowess in the field. The countless lives I had saved was not unnoticed by a few. They had their uses, in spite of their... impediments.

Jacobs: You mean, despite the fact they carried the pestilence.

SCP-049: they grovelled at the opportunity to stand by my side, and help absolve humanity of this plague.

Jacobs: <incredulously> Are you sure they weren't begging for their lives, whatever it took to keep it?

SCP-049: The chance to pass on my knowledge to a willing party is not an opportunity to squander. I had hoped, given time, their fear would be converted into understanding. That my work takes precedent over all other worldly concerns, and therefore all methods in its treatment were necessary.

Jacobs: And, pray tell, what was the success rate of these students becoming enlightened?

SCP-049: Ultimately, néant. (none.)

Jacobs: That sounds disappointing.

SCP-049: Your sarcasm is poorly concealed.

Jacobs: <under breath> I should try to try harder next time. <purposely louder> Do all of these people "bleed together", as did your patients? Or are there one or two that stood out above the rest?

SCP-049: ...

SCP-049: Jolanda.

Jacobs: <surprised> A name? She must have been... special.

SCP-049: I rested more hope on her than any before or since. None truly seemed to grasp the Pestilence as well as she. Her family had lost their battle with another sickness spreading across Europe at the time, but Jolanda had managed to avoid contamination. She crawled out of the filth like a rat, and despite the Pestilence's grasp on her, something within me stayed my hand.

SCP-049: I sensed a higher purpose for her, and she was willing to follow.

Jacobs: <incredulously, with a dose of disgust> Jesus, how old was she?

SCP-049: I am not certain. I do not tend to judge by a specific age, but she was a child, make no mistake. She showed remarkable resilience both in survival instinct and mentality. The things she saw with me, traveling together for nearly a decade, would have broken most men's minds. And her senses of detecting the Pestilence, impressed even me.

Jacobs: She could... see it?

SCP-049: Oh yes. She could identify exactly who had it in a room... with absolute accuracy.

Jacobs: According to you, that's everyone.

SCP-049: But she believed! We would sit and discuss the Pestilence by a fire. She even taught me to appreciate the clarity of a mind after a well-cooked meal. I hadn't eaten food until she came along.

Jacobs: Reminds me of...

SCP-049: Yes?

Jacobs: Just- someone I knew... They're gone now.

SCP-049: The infamous interviewer? I've heard whispers of his exploits. A shame I could not have made it acquaintance, he would have made a most interesting study.

Jacobs: Anyway, you were saying?

SCP-049: Hmm? I sensed in Jolanda unease. She was no longer a child, and through her life had seen much exposure.

Jacobs: To the Pestilence?

SCP-049: To humanity. The logical, impartial side of her was giving way to a sympathetic soul who saw her patience is more than just that. She was growing attached, and it was interfering with the necessity of our work. More and more, she began to question the path she had chosen, and the expressions she made around the surgical table group courser. Sometimes I feel morality can be as deadly a plague, it's the worst of them.

Jacobs: Morality keeps people from forgetting that all life is

important, and your ethics are how you enact that.

SCP-049: All life is important, of course I know that. But there are things that must be done to ensure survival that-

Jacobs: Everything you do is morally wrong, and goes against everything doctors stand for. Can't you see just how much you have hurt people?

SCP-049: And you are in a position to judge over me? When we first met, you attempted to elicit me into murder. From what I understand, we SCP are little more than refuse disposal to you. What I do is selfless, a cause to benefit all mankind and beyond. You kill for your own benefit.

Jacobs: <defensively, with high-pitched tone> You think that's what I want? Lambert was a threat to us both, and I am always under the Council's thumb-

SCP-049: Just "following orders"? I've walked many battlefields in my lifetime... Atrocities you wouldn't even imagine, left out in the open for all the world to see. Survivors on both sides would crawl to me with what little strength they had left in beg, "It wasn't my fault". "I was just following instructions", "They were the enemy". I have no enemy. All are patients in my eyes, but you... You're just one more along in a long line of monsters, excusing your crimes on the basis of "following orders".

SCP-049: Do you deny this?

Jacobs: <in small voice> no.

SCP-049: Admitting the problem exists, is the first step to finding the cure.

Jacobs: And what about Jolanda? What became of her?

SCP-049: We happened upon a village in the midst of an epidemic. I wanted to administer my cure, but Jolanda insisted on an alternative treatment for their current ailments. She was turning into one of those who had betrayed me and lost their way. I admit to feeling disappointment in her, especially as she forbade me from curing them. She said she would keep me from them, no matter the cost.

Jacobs: Did you leave?

SCP-049: No. She had not outlived the Pestilence's influence, nor morality's. I had to stop it there. Her... then the town. It was not an… enjoyable experience, but it had to be done. The calling demands it.

Jacobs: <resentfully> Following orders.

_

Jacobs: If everyone has contracted the Pestilence, might that not mean it's just... the next stage in our evolutionary line?

SCP-049: (chuckles)

Jacobs: Is there something funny?

SCP-049: On the contrary, it's an interesting concept. I suppose I could understand how a layman such as yourself might be goaded into believing such a proposition. Genetic evolution, possibly being perceived as a type of deformity leading towards an actual growth or supplement, marking an improvement upon life form. However, you are missing a key component: I. know. what. it. is.

SCP-049: You can't possibly understand what it's like to sense the Pestilence. I can feel it throughout my body. I can see it. Taste it. Smell. Get close enough, I can hear the individual molecules churning. But it's not just physical sensations of stimuli. I can feel the emotion of it.s presence, how it affects me. That tells me all I need to know about the Pestilence.

Jacobs: What is it you feel?

SCP-049: Fear. As to whether it is my own, or projection from the victim's own subconscious, screaming for help, like they know deep down that something is horribly wrong, I cannot say. Have you ever felt like there's something inherently wrong in the world? With you? Something you can't see, but an instinct buried so far into your soul, it's calling to warn you.

Jacobs: It's part of the human condition, everybody has it.

SCP-049: And the Pestilence has everyone.

Jacobs: Everybody has a pulse too, but just because I say someone is dead on the inside, doesn't stop it from being subjective.

SCP-049: Thus, you have proven my point. You cannot sense it like I can. You do not even register its existence outside of our discussions. So how can you even make a claim that could be the future of your species?

Jacobs: <exasperated> Has there ever been anyone immune to it?

SCP-049: If I had ever found any instance of a naturally occurring immunity within a life, do you not think my role here would be complete? With it, I could easily derive a cure, but the Pestilence is universal.

Jacobs: There may still be hope.

SCP-049: If you'd been looking for an immune individual as long as I have, you too would have lost all semblance of hope. It will never happen. And your being here, your position at my mercy, also means that you too have given up hope. What do you say, Site Director Jacobs? Is my inquiry, like your suffering? Finally at a close?

Jacobs: Not quite yet.

Guard: Sir, it's here, waiting just outside.

Jacobs: Thank you. Disengage locks.

*the cell door open. Jacobs walks out and after moment comes back pushing a bed on wheels with a corpse on it. It's visibly disfigured with black spikes sticking out of it and dark grey skin, bordering on black. He pushes the cart until it stands next to 049*

SCP-049: A new cadaver. *looking at body* Not as fresh as I expected.

Jacobs: Our own doctors had reason to conduct an extended autopsy... What can you make of it?

SCP-049: *looking at corpse with interest* We shall see.

_All lights in the cell are turned off, except a lamp illuminating the autopsy theatre and one in the corner over beds, barely illuminating Jacobs, who still sits on the bed. 049 is shown looking into decedents chest cavity_

...

SCP-049: *pulls out his hands and looks up to Jacobs* Do you object?

Jacobs: What?

SCP-049: Your ilk and I have had our disagreements on the nature of my practice. They simply refuse to understand what it is I am trying to accomplish.

Jacobs: Oh, they understand all right. And if the Pestilence, if there even is such a thing, presents as much of a threat as you imply, then I don't think anyone would argue with your goals.

SCP-049: *Back to poking into decedents chest cavity* You present as skeptic and adaptable, an invaluable combination.

Jacobs: The real issue... science has with you is your methodology.

SCP-049: All in the name of saving lives.

Jacobs: At an inhuman cost.

Jacobs: If any of you understood, the true consequences the Pestilence has on mankind... none would argue with the costs. *pulls out scalpel and gesticulates with it* Every cut, every incision, brings my work a step closer to perfecting a cure, *puts scalpel down* and reading this scourge from every organism. Preventing further outbreaks from arising. *looks up at Jacobs* Is that not what you want?

Jacobs: Trying to convince us to fear the theoretical.

SCP-049: *looks down at spike growing out of corpses abdomen and starts poking at it* And yet, when a madman claims to have witnessed a spirit, there will be more than a few to rally in support. *stops poking and looks up at Jacobs* Perhaps humanity finds it easier to believe in lesser threats than an extinction-level plague?

Jacobs: <vexed> Our doctors and scientists have spent years trying to follow your research to reach the same conclusion: that this Pestilence even exists. Nothing. Any help on your end... always results in the same convenient dead-end. *counting on fingers* You give us your journal for study, the text is untranslatable. We ask for a list of symptoms, too many and varied to pinpoint a single illness. Even your methods of treatment-

SCP-049: Imperfect, I admit. But trial and error-

Jacobs: *stands up, shouting furiously* They were people!!! <incredulous> Have you ever bothered to stop and ask who it is you're torturing?!

SCP-049: *gestures with bloodied scalpel* It is not torture to safeguard the future.

Jacobs: <furious, points finger at 049* Bullshit! I've seen what becomes of your experiments! That is not a cure! It is beyond torture! They lose EVERY remnant of themselves after you've had your way with them. And that is no way to live. Your cure isn't worth the cost!

SCP-049: It may be... one day. *slicing down corpses abdomen* Even now I am content with the results, given the alternative.

Jacobs: And what about him? The man you're operating on right now? Have you considered what cure he'll settle for? What costs he'll accept? Of course not. You just poke and prod and twist everything inside until you feel the disease is eradicated. But so is the man! What's the point in a cure if nothing of us remains?

SCP-049: ...*looks at the corpse up and down*

SCP-049: What was his name? This subject. This... person.

Jacobs: Gregory Slyne. He was an engineer.

SCP-049: A science none too distant from my own. Man and machine are far more similar than most care to admit. Operations. Communication. Internal network. Fuel and fallibility. *looks up at Jacobs* How did he die?

Jacobs: Why does it matter?

SCP-049: Because I cannot cure him.

Jacobs: Of course not. He's already dead.

SCP-049: *gestures above Greg's body* There are no traces of the Pestilence in his system, however there are clear signs of its presence at some point in time prior to death. When Gregory Slyne died... he did so cured.

Jacobs: How's that possible?

SCP-049: I am unsure, but the results speak for themselves.

Jacobs: They tell you?

SCP-049: That with perseverance and dedication, a cure may yet be possible. *gestures at Jacobs and backs up* you may remove him. Do not fear, he won't rise again. I have been satiated for the moment.

_room illumination is back to one before the autopsy_

Jacobs: What use do you find from your proxies?

SCP-049: The Cured. They are invaluable to my research. For starters, their behavior, their very state of being, reflects the effectiveness of my treatments.

Jacobs: Aaand... how would you gauge its "effectiveness" right now?

SCP-049: I have a revival rate of 95%, a key component to eradicating the infection. Living beings cannot survive the shock of being torn from the grips of the Pestilence.

Jacobs: And how satisfied are you with the results? How the person survives, and not just the body.

SCP-049: That... is a tough one not to crack. Granted, much of the mind... alters as a consequence, and physically there are permanent alterations, but there are benefits.

Jacobs: <doubtfully> Benefits? How?

SCP-049: For example, the Cured can now detect Pestilence carriers, and neutralize them.

Jacobs: You mean they kill anyone in their path, and rip them apart like animals.

SCP-049: Had they had the medical knowledge I possess, perhaps they-

Jacobs: You're brushing what they do aside, because they don't have your medical skills?

SCP-049: Regardless, it does not matter. I am still able to perform my part on the cadavers we leave behind.

Jacobs: Riiigght...

SCP-049: Do you need further explanation?

Jacobs: <sarcastically> Oh! No, I get it. It's... sick and twisted logic but I understand. I'm almost afraid to ask what isn't justified because of the Pestilence... How much you let yourself get away with.

SCP-049: I have no personal gain from any of this.

Jacobs: More subjects to experiment on. Isn't that the only thing you've ever wanted from us? From... anyone?

SCP-049: To cure. If I wanted to wipe out all life on Earth, believe me... I could. Very. Easily.

Jacobs: <cheery> Allright. Show me there's something behind that mask that isn't just flesh. Has there ever been someone you've not been able to "save"?

SCP-049: In spite of our opposing views, her betrayal of everything i'd worked so hard to accomplish, I had hoped to save Jolanda. I thought that she of all people would be more resilient, that not much of her would perish during the process. But she never did. She never came back. It was as though her spirit refused my services.

Jacobs: This is the second time you've alluded to a soul, is that something you believe in?

SCP-049: I have no reason to disbelieve it, and I'm not blind to the absence of it from those I cure. Or perhaps a more apt term would be... suppression.

Jacobs: You mean... you think those people's souls are trapped inside of the Cured?

SCP-049: Again, I have not said I believe in such a thing, but I would rather believe the Cured still have a chance of returning to their former selves. If their souls have been purged, then that is an impossibility.

Jacobs: Given what you just said, has there ever been someone you have cured, but... would have rather let die?

SCP-049: How much do you know of my history?

Jacobs: Everything we've catalogued thus far.

SCP-049: Then you should remember an incident with one of my first doctors from The Foundation staff: Doctor Raymond Hammm.

Jacobs: I don't think anyone who knows about you doesn't also know about Ray.

SCP-049: Did you know him?

Jacobs: Not personally, but... we had interacted in the past on administrative assignments. He was a good man.

SCP-049: You don't get many like him within The Foundation, it seems.

Jacobs: Try the world.

SCP-049: I haven't talked about him in years. When I did, I mentioned little remorse for his demise. With the addition of time, I've come to understand several truths. The first is that I can sometimes judge one too harshly based on the knowledge and bearing of the Pestilence. The other... is that I regret taking his life when I did.

Jacobs: When you did?

SCP-049: He might have understood, given time. And I may have also found a breakthrough with his help. Developed a vaccine. Made the need for terminating a patient to treat a redundancy. But I panicked, and the man paid a terrible price. If souls do exist, I subjected him to a claustrophobic and demeaning existence inside his own body. When your task force put him down, I'd hoped it was quick.

Jacobs: It was.

SCP-049: Good. Now, Site Director, I wish to move on to the next question. This line has run out of avenues.

_

Jacobs: Are you aware of any SCPs that have the Pestilence?

SCP-049: Yes, and no. It will be difficult to point

out to a select few. Unless you have several in mind?

Jacobs: Well... why don't we start with... 106, The Old Man?

SCP-049: Ooh yes, him. A rather fascinating specimen. I can see why you would link him to the Pestilence. And although he does carry the strain with him, his figurative and literal ethereal state is not a result of the infection.

Jacobs: The man literally dissolves metal and melts his way into pocket dimensions. If that is not an advanced case of Pestilence infection, then what is?

SCP-049: I have not allowed a full cycle of the pestilence to be completed in any one subject. To do so would be immoral.

Jacobs: <baffled> To... study? Diagnose? What kind of doctor doesn't try to understand what they're treating to the greatest degree?

SCP-049: If you were done, sir, reprimanding me for

saving lives once more, perhaps we can move on to another example?

Jacobs: Fine. SCP-008. It's a form of virus that reduces brain

function, limits mobility and increases necrotic decay, all whilst keeping the infected alive. Some refer to it as a zombie plague. Sound familiar?

SCP-049: I believe so, but I can't quite... Ah, the one from Russia. Correct?

Jacobs: As far as we know. No idea what they're doing with the stuff but... that's where it's from. Any correlation between it and the Pestilence?

SCP-049: Hardly. But should the Pestilence no longer threaten Earth, my next recommendation would be to purge this 008... from existence.

Jacobs: So you know what it's capable of. What was your take away from it?

SCP-049: Limited, given my current priorities. But it did not seem to me to be born of this Earth. And if that is the case, was its arrival here coincidence? A mistake? Or a calculated move?

Jacobs: I suppose that's a mystery for the Russians to worry about. Allright, umm... What about an inanimate object, like 079?

SCP-049: The intelligent machine? Not as far as I know, but there is every chance that it may be an unwitting puppet of the Pestilence's design.

Jacobs: But how? He's a computer.

SCP-049: Do not underestimate where the Pestilence may strike from. Even my senses cannot detect it at all times, and it is so very clever. Who knows which shape it will take next?

Jacobs: Riiigght. I... guess. How's about your old friend, 035?

SCP-049: F-friend? If he says so. Again, it is a difficult affliction to diagnose in things... such as him.

Jacobs: But what about the black goo? Surely that has to be something related to the Pestilence?

SCP-049: Is that what he told you? It is true that there are trace levels of Pestilence in his excrement, but dormant levels. Nothing I can do anything with. But the mask himself holds no Pestilence, so far as I can tell.

Jacobs: Just like 079?

SCP-049: Yes.

Jacobs: Alright then. Now... 343. God, so he claims.

SCP-049: I do not believe I have had any interactions with such an individual. And they say they are a deity?

Jacobs: The deity. The only one, according to him.

SCP-049: After the experiences of my life, I have little evidence to believe a God could be responsible for so much suffering. The vastness of his egotism...

Jacobs: <to himself, under breath> Said the kettle to the pot.

SCP-049: Pardon?

Jacobs: <hastily> Nothing.

SCP-049: In any case, if they are a living creature, it is more than likely that Pestilence has them in its grasp as well.

Jacobs: <sarcastically, with exhale> Such a shame. Well, that leaves one last candidate: SCP-001. Thoughts?

SCP-049: ...*silently looks down*

Jacobs: ...You do know the one I am referring to?

SCP-049: Yes. I can only hope it does not have the Pestilence in its system.

Jacobs: Why is that?

SCP-049: If so... My work is meaningless. As is the function of all life.

Jacobs: Understood. *to his comm* Get that?

Guard: Yep.

_

Jacobs: 035 spoke about how he accompanied you across Europe during the spread of the Black Plague. He said that not only were you able to resurrect the dead and injured to perfect health..., but that you wore him on occasion.

SCP-049: (chuckles) Dýo does have a wicked imagination for storytelling. What tale did he weave this time? Was he the reincarnation of Apophis? An embodiment of Loki? Was I an accomplice in his duplicitous acts? Or were we rivals? Friends or foes?

Jacobs: He said-

SCP-049: No matter. Anything he says is neither truth nor lie. Reality simply does not matter to a creature of his habit.

Jacobs: Well then, what is your recollection of 035?

SCP-049: I picked up the scent of a Pestilence mass across Europe, growing in size. My path led me through Bosnia, where I encountered 035 on a merchant train.

Jacobs: Right, 035 said he had been abandoned in an attack.

SCP-049: No such attack took place. He was not a forgotten trinket on the roadside. He was running one of the stalls. As soon as he laid eyes on me, he flagged me down. "You seem like an individual looking for a cure to all your problems.". Equipped with this forked tongue. "Come browse my wares.".

SCP-049: Every item of purchase, all of his stock, carried with it a tale of incredible utilization against some ailment or injury. Snake venom that reduces inflammation, a variant of the oriental "snake oil". Leeches that clean blood and infected areas, and re-inject stronger, nutrient-filled cells. Rabbit dung, elephant urine, unicorn horn, he claimed to own a piece of palliative care from every corner of the Earth.

SCP-049: A fallacy, all. He was a con-man, who could no more cure the common cold than he could keep consistency. No doubt he had suckered in several of those "doctors" who adopted my persona. He believed he could do the same with me. So when he presented arsenic as a way to ease sore throats, I implored him to please, demonstrate.

Jacobs: And did he?

SCP-049: If there was one positive I can give to that cretin, he is very dedicated. Much like myself. He drank the tonic, and to my surprise, did not falter. When I pointed out my observations of arsenic poisoning, he admitted to my superior knowledge of the matter, confessed to conning previous doctors along the path, and became interested in my trade. He inquired as to what I specialized in, to which I responded "the Pestilence".

SCP-049: He believed I meant the Plague, the current fascination of all in the medical profession, but no, I explained. Not wishing to extend my stay, I hastily departed.

Jacobs: <incredulously> That's it. That's your only interaction.

SCP-049: Unfortunately, no. Unbeknownst to myself, he stalked me across

Europe and observed my practice. Eventually, he came forward and attempted to assault me.

Jacobs: <with more incredulity> He did what?

SCP-049: Whilst leaving Venice, I encountered him along a pier. At that time, I did not recall who he was, but all the same, 035 lunged at me. I touched his host and rendered him immobile.

Jacobs: You mean you killed the host?

SCP-049: The host had already expired, I merely made the body useless to him. I sailed back to Trieste in Slovenia, and headed north toward Austria and Germany. Again, he pursued me further up the road. More and more over the centuries, I would see him, and soon his face became etched into my mind, almost as vividly as the Pestilence. Every time, he would attempt to remove my "mask", in order to supplant my mind with his will. He did not understand.

SCP-049: At first, his appearances were nothing more than a mere nuisance, until he began to take my avoidance... personally. On our next encounter in Belgium, he ensured it would be an event I could not ignore.

Jacobs: Knowing 035, I'd venture a guess and say it was psychotic.

SCP-049: The trail of pestilence I had been tracking diverged, leading me to Het Sten Castle in Antwerp. That was not its name at the time, but I understand it was rebuilt many years later. I arrived at the gates sealed shut, and the only sound from within was crying and screaming. I believed that the Pestilence had reached a new stage of mutation, that is until I saw him through the bars of the gate.

SCP-049: He gave me a single ultimatum: allow him to possess me, or have my precious patients die.

Jacobs: But... your mask is your face.

SCP-049: I explained as much, but he was convinced I was lying to save my skin. It did not take long for his patience to run out. He stared at me as he nonchalantly tossed the torch into the pyre, the flames spreading quickly into the hall, engulfing the castle and everyone inside within minutes. I had no time for petty games. I turned my back on him, and cast it from my mind.

Jacobs: What did he do after that?

SCP-049: He realized two things: One, I had been telling the truth about my face. Two, I was no doctor he had ever encountered before. From here, he focused on being friendly. With all prospects of ever possessing me diminished, 035 made do studying me as intently as I study a fresh cadaver. I returned the interest in kind by studying his attributes, to discern if there was anything of value from keeping his company.

SCP-049: The mask itself was uninteresting, but the excrement proved somewhat more fascinating. 035's hosts appeared nullified whatever Pestilence had been present prior to death. I attempted to create a synthetic ointment based on its design, but there was something inherent in its makeup that I could not simulate without keeping the excrement's acidic qualities. By the time my interest dissolved, I had developed a new reputation.

Jacobs: How so?

SCP-049: 035 had begun a rumor associating me with the omen of death. This image of myself spread faster than a virulent disease. Before long, I was being chased into the streets, out of townships and, across borders. 035 himself spurred on several of the lynch mobs against me. Eastern Europe had been poisoned by his influence, and I knew then that his usefulness had run out.

SCP-049: It was mid-19th century by now and cholera had begun to grip Italy pon our return. We reminisced about times past, and eventually led 035 to our first patient. Only, the house I took him to had not had a soul within for many years. I took 035 to the crypt below, convincing him that those sick were being quantitated within. The gullible fool... felt it was very atmospheric. I shut him in and made sure the door could never be opened. That is, until your organization set him free.

Jacobs: *drawn out* Yeah, we regret it too, sorry.

SCP-049: My only relief is that he is being held far away from me.

Jacobs: … <awkwardly> Um, actually, the Site you're being transferred to...

SCP-049: Oh no.

Jacobs: Sorry about that.

SCP-049: Let us hope they never put us in the same room.

...

Jacobs: <stuttering and unsure> Is it... Um, is it possible the Pestilence is a sixth sense for you? That it senses oncoming death and you are its harbinger?

SCP-049: Given a sufferer's ultimate fate, I could not differentiate the function of the Pestilence from that of Death.

Jacobs: *silently looks down at his questionnaire*

_

Jacobs: <curiously> Why did you surrender to us so easily?

SCP-049: Should I have fought it?

Jacobs: Well, we're rather glad you didn't, but... The circumstances of your capture are... suspicious.

SCP-049: How so?

Jacobs: Well, until months prior, we hadn't the notion of your existence, and... it just so happens that one of our operatives manages to escape your proxies without you noticing?

SCP-049: It is not a prerogative of mine to obscure my presence from the world. 

Jacobs: And then there's the capture itself. When we found you, several of your proxies attacked. We were delayed, and I'm almost certain you knew we were coming. And yet, when you had every chance to run, you decided to stay. In fact, you Watched us. Did you want to be detained?

SCP-049: Detained is such a harsh term. Temporary accommodation is more appropriate.

Jacobs: can the smartarse remarks. I'm tired of you all treating this facility as though it were a resort. Now, answer the question: Why are you here?

SCP-049: You claimed to have been observing me? but I was Watching you for much longer. What you do. How you operate. The stock of your subjects. But what attracted me here most of all were your morals. Your ethics. A distinct lack of both, just enough for me to see a glimmer of myself.

SCP-049: The Foundation is dedicated, ruthless, and willing to do whatever it must to ensure the survival of the human race against such an overwhelming threat. I knew then that being amongst you would be of great benefit to my research. And fearing the Pestilence, you would provide me with a sterile working environment, protection, and most importantly. Subjects.

Jacobs: Well... that backfired, didn't it? Since we've not actually found a shred of evidence that proves the Pestilence even exists, for all we know, it could be just a figment of your imagination. A justification for an incessant need to kill and disfigure all life to suit your own design. <annoyed> Which one am I supposed to believe more: that you surrendered in order to work with us to fight the greatest plague ever to face man, or that you're using us through a thinly developed ploy to make us accomplices through fear in your secret bid to create a world all of your own design?

Jacobs: The only other option I can see is that you're completely insane.

SCP-049: Believe what you will, sir. But in a matter of minutes none of your truths will matter... For you will be dead, and I will go on.

Jacobs: *nervously grips his pants on his knees* ...Last question, doc. *looks down*

_

Jacobs: What will you do after you have cured the Pestilence? Or do you believe this is an impossible goal to strive for?

SCP-049: If it were impossible, or I believed it so, that would not keep me from attempting to rectify the problem.

Jacobs: But wouldn't that seem pointless? Futile?

SCP-049: If you loved or believed in someone or something so much, that it was tied to the very fate of your soul. And fighting for that thing appeared impossible to succeed, would you still not fight for it? Would it still not be worth giving every ounce of yourself for? Even when all other hope is lost.

Jacobs: ...<quietly> I wouldn't know.

SCP-049: I've learned to diagnose many symptoms of pain. Do not think you can hide yours from me. It's the kind of pain that leads many to commit great and terrible atrocities. Though they think they are justified through their loss, that is never the case. Such is the fate I see for you.

Jacobs: Like you said, it won't matter soon. I'll die with many regrets, but at least that won't be one.

SCP-049: The undiscovered country from whose bourn and traveller returns, puzzles the will and makes us rather bear those ills we have, than fly to others that we know not of? Thus conscience does make cowards of us all.

Jacobs: Hamlet?

SCP-049: No, just something 035 would matter to himself from time to time. He would often ruminate on subjects such as death, and the human condition. How most feared the consequences of a life filled with evil, to be themselves evil, and so spent their lives too concerned with the afterlife to live. I have never held such a perspective. I do not believe there is an afterlife, waiting for me, much like you perhaps do not think there is one for you. I am certain that once this Pestilence is eradicated, my function is complete, and I will simply cease.

Jacobs: <unbelieving> You wouldn't turn to another illness?

SCP-049: It is not my design, much like a life after death is not in my design. But suppose you were wrong in your assumption? Suppose there is a life after death for you, would you suffer for the wrongs in your life? Or would you suffer for the good deeds you failed to act upon? Destiny is not a predetermined plan, but the inevitable result of the actions you perform. When death comes... Do you feel you will fulfill your purpose? Or do you feel there is more in life for you to achieve?

_

Jacobs: (sigh) It's done. No more questions.

SCP-049: Then it is time.

Jacobs: (deep breath) <quietly> okay.

Guard: Sir, I can still get you out of there. There's no need to-!

Jacobs: <emotionless> No interference.

Guard: But, Sir!

Jacobs: <quietly> That's an order.

SCP-049: Any final requests?

Jacobs: Will it hurt?

SCP-049: Yes.

Jacobs: ...Good. *stands up*

*049 walks up to the camera and directs it at Jacobs, then walks up to him with his arm pulled out towards him. Jacobs calmly looks in 049s direction*

*049 stops abruptly, merely feet away from him, and looks at him curiously.*

Jacobs: <exasperated> Don't just stand there. Kill me, damn it!

SCP-049: *looks at his hand and puts it down* ...Fascinating. Absolutely fascinating.

Jacobs: I don't understand. I thought you wanted me dead.

SCP-049: I do, but it appears another fate in store for yourself. The Pestilence has receded. It no longer invests you to such a horrific degree. The sudden change, it bears potential. Keeping you alive may yet be worth the benefits.

Jacobs: <in defeated tone> But- what we do now?

SCP-049: *Walks away from him towards the side of the camera* Live on. Act upon instinct. Shape your own future.

Jacobs: *looks down*

SCP-049: Oh, and should I encounter your dear friend Watch at this new facility, *grabs the camera and turns it to be directed at his face* I'll be sure to send him my warmest regards. *turns camera off*

-outside of 049 cell_

Guard: Sir... are you okay?

Jacobs: *shaky* F-fine. Fine.

Guard: What do you want to do with him now? 

Jacobs: Somehow I have to report my failure to die to the O-5 Council. 

Guard: What do you think he meant by "the pestilence has receded"?

Jacobs: <quietly, bordering on whispering> I don't know.

_Jacobs office_

*Jacobs is silently sitting in his chair. The door open, and Guard walks in*

Guard: Sir, I... *Jacobs stands up* uh, Sorry I-i didn't knock.

Jacobs: Is there any news?

Guard: No Sir. No developments from the surface.

Jacobs: <quietly> I didn't mean from them

Guard: No sir. *Jacobs slowly folds his hands in front of his chest* Watch hasn't made contact. Do you expect him to? He's probably long dead by now. So many SCPs, many of the most dangerous ones too... How could he survive?

Jacobs: After everything we've seen... I can't believe he'd go out like this... No. (deep inhale) Isaac is alive. I'm almost certain.

Guard: E-even then... What can we do?

Jacobs: … *hit with sudden idea*...What little we can.

Jacobs: <with conviction> Sergeant, ensure that anyone matching Watch's description who reaches the surface is not shot. I'll deal personally with anyone who disobeys.

Guard: *nods* Yes sir!

Jacobs: And, Sergeant. Drop the sir. We've known each other long enough... McCrimmon.

McCrimmon: *nods* Will do, Jacobs. *walks out*

Jacobs: ... *stays standing for a while, looking at the door after it shuts*

Jacobs: *sits down and takes out some sort of cylinder-shaped machine from under his desk. It starts emitting weird sounds. He then dials up a phone and calls someone*

???: Hello? Who is this? … Speak, god damn it! 

Jacobs: Hello, Watch.

Watch: Jacobs?

Jacobs: I know your instinct right now is to hang up on me... but unfortunately we've both ran out of time to hold grudges. Suffice it to say... I don't want you dead. I'm just glad you found this phone.

Watch: Reyes didn't seem like he needed it. But you tried to have me killed. That puts you on the same playing field as everything in here trying to do the same. I should be asking for more but give me one good reason why I should listen to you.

Jacobs: Because if we want to fight the future and lay the Foundations of what comes next, then we must work together. Our goals are the same. I see that now. *camera starts glitching*

Jacobs: But to survive you have to do exactly what- *words get incoherent due glitching*

_dark room with only door illuminated from back through its window_

*Watch gets aggressively shoved through the door*

Watch: *to the guard which shoved them* <exasperated> Thanks for the escort! Not like I saved your sorry asses or anything!

*perspective switches to focus on the corner in front of the door. Lights turn on, showing Jacobs standing next to the bed in the corner. A table with a laptop stands in the middle of the room.*

Watch: Aren't you a sight for sore eyes. So, what now? You're gonna manipulate me some more? Make me talk to these SCPs, get them dancing to your little tune? Everything go back to normal now? Ain't happening. I know now. I know why you put me there. It was all a goddamn test!

Jacobs: No. I put you there because there's been something you've been hiding from me. Whether you realise it or not. Whatever it is, has kept you safe. But believe me, I wouldn't have sent you there if the decision were up to me. Then who was it? You talked to me about being honest and keeping secrets, but you don't tell me jack shit. Well I'm tired of it! I'm done. You can take your little experiments and find another patsy.

Jacobs: The O-5 Council. It was a ploy. All of it. Staged. Meant to draw out people they'd suspected of being members of the Chaos Insurgency for a long time. So many high-profile SCPs in one area, so many of their operatives in one place, a gold mine for them. At the same time, it was a test. For people like you. People who exhibit abilities beyond our understanding. You *points at Watch* survived the impossible, Watch. And I know you saw things at C-2 that were beyond your comprehension... You may very well be an SCP.

Watch: I saw... what I did see couldn't be real. What about the breakout I was framed for? I was nowhere near 682 or 079! How could i-

Jacobs: I know! And they knew too. The evidence was obviously planted, but they had reason to send you to C-2 anyway. They used it as an excuse... and I played along. I'm sorry.

Jacobs: <voice gets gradually more shaky> All my career here, I've tried to fight against their bloody whims. We have an Ethics Committee, and for what? Half their members are funded by the Council, and the other half are just as corrupt or eager to abuse the system. For years I have tried to block them, divert the course, before one of their harebrained schemes really does some damage we simply can't walk away from or delete from someone's memory. And no one, no one!... I can trust. most of my life Watching over my back, trying to be better than they are, making this place better!

Jacobs: <getting teary> ... But I gave up. I lost hope. I gave in... and I almost gave you up with it. You were the first person in a long time who I can actually trust, because I know where you stand. I know just how much you want that change to happen, and you would do it an instant. I used to be like that. I can't let you do this on your own, because otherwise, you'll turn out exactly like me. Whether you can ever learn to trust me back, that's up to you.

Jacobs: *walks up to Watch* One more thing. The footage of the 682-079 breakout was anonymously sent to me to clear your name. It's from a closed camera feed outside of the official foundation security network. The person is blurred, but... clearly it isn't you.

Jacobs: *gives Watch a pendrive with video. Watch silently takes it and holds in clenched fist* Feel free to review it. The details of our next assignment are on there too. And you'll... need a change of clothes.

Jacobs: Oh and uh... your I-Class clearance has been reinstated. (hiccuping breath) You really seem to have a guardian angel looking out over you. But that angel... was the one who framed you too.

*camera gets close up, standing by their side*

Watch: *looks down* My sister... I think I saw her. At C-2.

Jacobs: *grabs his shoulder* Perhaps you did. We'll find out.. together. *pulls his arm away and walks out of the room. Watch looks at him as he closes the door*

Watch: *walks up to the table and puts the chip into laptop. It lights up and he scrolls trough it for a bit. He stops abruptly after seeing something on it* What the- *an audio recording starts playing*

Amnesty: Welcome back, Watch. This is a pre-recorded message designed to activate when inserted into a specific node located in your new quarters. Any attempt to preserve this message will result in self-destruction. You're probably wondering right now why I decided to set you up on a one-way trip into the D-Class pool.

Amnesty: At the time, I figured you were just another weapon of O-5's Council, being used to subvert and control the other SCPs with your... unique abilities. But after seeing you in action with C-2, I no longer believe that to be the case. I won't apologize, but I can offer you something better. I know you want to change things, so do. I if we work together I know we can tear out every last shred of abuse of power in this place. And what's more, we can get the SCPs to help us out too.

Amnesty: The Council, and more importantly, Jacobs, won't see it coming. I don't know what he's told you in the past to exonerate himself, but I don't trust him. And neither should you. The man has no past, no allegiances to anyone. Not even himself. Whatever his plan for the Foundation, it can't be good. And yes, I almost got you killed. Why should you trust me? The real question is: what choice do you have? If you agree, just open up a document and type. Don't save, don't send it anywhere. I'll see it. I'm always Watching.

Watch: *silently observes the laptop, when the pendrive starts sparking and smoking. He moves his hand away from it and keeps staring at the laptop motionless, shocked*

[END LOG]

<- Previous | Masterlist | Next ->