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yandere-sins · 4 years ago

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The Exception

My friend let me try playing Hades on her switch and well... I kinda liked it. Namely, I liked all the characters, so my brain went like “what if they were yandere” and I had an idea for this story that I threw together this morning before working on the Fox Wedding (: The latter isn’t done yet, but this sure is, so who knows, mayhaps some of you will enjoy it! Just tried to answer the question how we could get Thanatos to whisk us away.

Characters: Yandere!Thanatos x Reader Warnings: Yandere, Blood, War, Wounds/Impaling, Major Character Death (???) or well dying, I read into greek history for almost an hour but if I gotten something wrong then so be it

Thanatos had seen enough of the world to know that he didn't want to stay on the surface forever.

The current battle spreading before him was a mere reason to sigh deeply as he watched bodies fall left and right, their souls soon leaving to a better, or perhaps worse, place. It was mandatory he stayed, but Thanatos was well aware of which side was winning and which was losing. It was his duty and his work to know these things, even though it didn't make the fighting any less futile in his eyes.

Letting his gaze wander over the battlefield, he watched the red splatters on the ground, heard the crushing sounds of iron against iron and the cacophony of fearful and devastating screams. He still couldn't believe Zagreus would want to come to such a place. A place where there was futile fighting and too much light, but perhaps, it was a world that fit the Prince of the Underworld, as he was the same, even if Thanatos only recognized this fact bitterly.

Finally, the battle was closing in on its end, just like the hundreds of people that found their death because of it. The ones who weren't dead yet slowly but surely started to hesitate and retreat. Even as the personification of death, Thanatos reckoned that a pointless death was scary, even though so many humans chose it over desertion. Their death was inevitable, preordained by Thanatos sisters. Still, he had seen many hold on to the last sparks of hope that they could escape Thanatos' grasp.

And then, on the other side of the coin, were those that practically would have offered their life to Hades and fought to the end.

You weren't an exception. Yes, your quest and pride were your downfall, and by the gleam in your eyes Thanatos could tell you knew. You knew and recognized that you'd die. However, as if you were spiting him personally, you still continued to fight ahead of everyone else, gaining questioning glances from your comrades and contempt from your enemies, which you pulled to the ground one after another and sending them to hell.

Many before you had this overzealous compulsion to make that best out of their inevitable demise. Thanatos would admit that yes, most had a good reason for it, like saving their family or fighting for their own life. Others simply lucked out on the gift of pride and ignorance, forcing themselves and occasionally many more lives with them into the deep, dark pits of death.

What was your reason? Thanatos wondered.

He still had time before he needed to take action, he could allow himself a short - minuscule, really - different thought than his upcoming work, and you presented yourself so nicely to him as the incarnation of death waited for the end of today's battle. It wasn't often that he had the leisure to let his thoughts wander, so Thanatos intended to use these few seconds, which would fall under the radar, to still his curiosity.

By the looks of it, you weren't an inexperienced fighter. Or perhaps, you were just a farmer judging by your muscles. Surely, you seemed enthusiastic about your task, so were you fighting for something more significant than the glory of your country? Family? A loved one? Thanatos couldn't help but be curious about what your drive was, as he had seen so many reasons, yet they were all the same. Perhaps, yours was new?

Even so, you were graceful as you swung your sword around. What did he know about footwork, but at least, yours seemed to pay off as you weren't dead yet. When one of your foes managed to smack off your helmet, Thanatos believed that was it, but alas, you regained your strength, charging at the very same attacker.

In a way, fighting was like an elaborate play. The only difference was that neither of the parties knew the other one's move. The person reacting better was the winner. He couldn't find joy in watching wars, but even Thanatos had to admit that it was a joy watching you. Even if you lacked the enthusiasm as the heroic shades that lingered below, like Theseus, had, you fought a fight worth mentioning in the books as well.

Every move you made, Thanatos could see the calculations in your eyes, that keen shine reflecting in them. The sun seemed to break through the clouds just to reach out to you, making your armor sparkle in its rays. Yes, you were a formidable human, and Thanatos caught himself thinking that it was a shame you were fighting even if you looked so beautifully while doing it.

Taking another deep breath, he could see the swirls in the air left by it. While the winter wasn't affecting him, no matter how little clothes he wore, Thanatos felt a second of pitiful understanding for everyone who had to fight in those conditions. Undoubtedly, the cold armors, freezing hands and weapons, and frozen ground were another nemesis for every soldier out here. Even if their bodies stayed warm from adrenaline and running, it certainly was another reason many of your human bodies gave out quicker, merely submitting to their fate. It was fair enough for Thanatos. It meant his work was over faster, and judging by you being circled and the other soldiers at your side beginning to see the end coming towards them with long spears and sharp swords, it was all over soon.

You had fought bravely, that much he could give you. Perhaps you had impressed him enough to put in an unusual good word for you with Hypnos, who'd pass it on to Hades himself, granting you a shot on being put into Elysium. But your fate had long been decided, and as you fell to the ground, the battlefield erupted in victorious screams, announcing your time of death.

And also, his start of work.

As the winners retreated one after one, happy whenever they found a friend that survived too, Thanatos passed by them and onto the battlefield instead. Unseen by the human eye, he began his duty of reaping, one soul after the other, as mangled and frustrated over their death as they were, following his orders as he shushed them away. Usually, some pleaded and bargained with him for another shot of life, but even if Thanatos had wanted, there was no way for him to help them. But that day, everyone seemed awfully aware that there was no negotiating nor mercy waiting for them as they looked at his figure, frightened and frustrated. A pointless battle, with meaningless deaths, brought forth the self-pity in them, but this wasn't the first battle Thanatos tended to, so he felt nothing akin to that. It also wasn't his duty to take care of the souls gathered here, as it was Hermes' job to lead to them.

He had something very different on his agenda. You.

It was unfortunate for both of you, but when he reached you, you had yet to breathe your last breath. One eye slowly and in pain, opened, the other one damaged from the blow to the head you had received. However, as you looked at him, serene clarity laid in your gaze, and you recognized him, mayhaps by the giant scythe he carried around. Your stare was clear and less afraid than he expected you to be when acknowledging him, but you closed your eyes as a cough overcame you, hot, red blood dripping down your lips.

"Guess that's it," you croaked, and Thanatos could only stare. Conversing… wasn't his strong suit, and there wasn't exactly a reason to talk to you.

"Are you going to kill me?" you continued, undeterred by his silence, and Thanatos weighed his actions. "No, of course not," he eventually spoke, shaking his head slowly, the hood on his head shifting along to his movement.

"Ouch, that's cruel. You'll just wait until I die like this?"

Your words were nothing he hadn't heard before, and he didn't feel offended by them. However, he didn't expect your lips to briefly curl into a smile, adding a jesting notion to what you said. Even that wasn't new, but… it struck a chord inside the usual stoic bringer of death. "I can't end your suffering," Thanatos explained, hoping you'd simply know about the unspoken rule that he couldn't harm you.

"I think, I get it," you heaved, feeling worse by the minute. "You are just making sure I know I am supposed to die here."

That assumption wasn't wrong, even though there had been more playing into his service than just that. Too many kept trying to escape their fate, and sort of, Thanatos was just checking and cleaning up what would be left. You still had some time before your organs would fail and finally take you to the grave, different from the other souls that were already leaving for their new home.

"No, you will die here," he retorted firmly.

"I could," you chuckled, followed by another painful cough.

"Don't test me, Mortal."

In between deep breaths, you allowed yourself a short laugh. Just like him, you were probably aware that there was nothing worse that could happen to your situation, so his threat was just a way he hoped to shut you up with. In silence, he watched over you, until eventually, your eye opened up again. This time your gaze was searching for him - or something really - but your sight had already begun to cloud. No matter how proud and achieved you are in life, in the face of death, everyone looked the same.

"I think I did a good job. You know, fighting. Thought that if I already had to do it, I might as well give it my damn best."

More coughing. Thanatos watched the puddle of blood around you grow by the second. The spear inside your body must have been stirring up your insides the more you talked. Thanatos had expected something like this, you, young as you still were, had been led by the belief that doing your best could make up for the fact that you'd die. "But in the end, it was worth nothing, right? We lost after all."

Thanatos could only stare as he wondered what you expected him to say. He came here, knowing your life would end here, so really, the hope you had put into yourself didn't have the same disappointment to him now as it did to you. And yet, as he listened to you, seeing your body battered up with cuts and bruises, for the first time in centuries, he felt something akin to pity for you, and you specifically.

"Why did you fight then?" he asked, perhaps against your expectations.

"Why? Because they told us too. The King ordered us to fight this battle, and only he could have known how many soldiers our opponent would bring."

"You could have run." Thanatos tried to stay as detached from you as possible, though it didn't quite work, your words taking their influence on him. "Can you?" you retorted before letting out a long sigh. Death was near, literally as well as figuratively.

"Can you run from your duties? You don't have to do this either, do you?"

"I do--"

"Really?"

There was no immediate response this time, your question justified, despite your little mortal soul undoubtedly never understanding the burdens on the shoulders of Gods. The world would stop if they all decided to not continue their work and fulfill their duties and expectations. If Thanatos stopped, no one would die anymore, and but the suffering of everything would never disappear too.

"Dying sucks," you whispered, turning your head away.

"I reckon," he muttered indifferently. Not like he could talk about it from experience. It must be painful, dreadful, and, depending on the circumstances, frustrating too. Right now, though he couldn't imagine the extent, you must have felt so hopeless and so, so scared. There wasn't much other reason for your banter.

"Thanatos… I always thought it was a pretty name, even if everyone feared it." Regaining his attention after finding himself momentarily lost in thoughts, he looked down at you again, watching as your eyelid closed slowly. "Say what you want, but you can't blame them for fearing death, and alas, me."

"Perhaps if they talked to you, they wouldn't be so afraid."

"Meaning you don't feel so afraid anymore?"

A smile danced over your lips once more, a truly unusual sight for a soul so close to their end, and especially after talking to him. Hypnos often teased Thanatos with being too formal and dutiful to be amusing, and Hades beware, comforting. Though he didn't care for his twin's words, yours did make him feel... happy.

"Let's go then," you whispered, and Thanatos kneeled down, his hand falling to your wrist, listening to your pulse. Even with the feeling of your heart still desperately pumping blood through your body, only to lose it through your wounds, you didn't utter another word afterwards. You undoubtedly were dying, but perhaps, for now, you were merely unconscious as your lungs didn't stop reaching for air, and your heart used all your strength to function.

Once more, the sun broke through the clouds, shining down right at you two, bringing Thanatos into the predicament of being blinded as it reflected off your armor. Perhaps he understood it now. Understood how unfair it was that someone like you, innocent and kind, was doomed to die out here. How awful his job on this day was, forcing him to take you to Tartarus and put you before the judgment of the god residing there.

So what if... he didn't.

He couldn't heal your wounds, nor make you feel better. But what he could do is battle the fate, earn the scorn of many, but at least, even if he took out the spear from your bloody body, you'd live. You'd live to tell your tale, and who knew, even he could apply some bandages, so maybe you'd recover some.

It was a risk, and one Thanatos did not like taking, nor found pleasure in executing. But you couldn't refuse to come to this battle, whereas he, perhaps, after all these years, could refuse to do his job once. For your sake, and unbeknownst to him at that time, for his own even more.

His scythe disappeared in favor of Thanatos grabbing for the dreadful spear. Never before had he experience the kind of sound a wound could make from so close, and by the gods, he hoped he never would again. It was just your luck that you were unconscious, or the pain would have perhaps killed you faster than your wounds.

Leaning down, he scooped you up, his hand sullied with your blood and the dirt on the ground. The snow wasn't cold when he touched it, but your body was warm in his arms and still alive. Your threat of fade wasn't cut yet, and he wouldn't do it. With you in his arms, he stepped back, looking into your sleeping face before he retreated from the battlefield with a quiet, "Let's go."

No, the surface wasn't a place Thanatos liked to linger. It was too loud, too wrong, and too bright. But to see your smile, lively and happy, one more time, he didn't need to stay above ground. Where you were going, it was dark and, at times, lonely if you weren't a being born there. But you'd also be safe and alive for as long as you wished to.

And Thanatos would be with you, even if everyone would turn against him and his decision, for all eternity if he must.

#thanatos #thanatos hades #yandere thanatos #yandere!thanatos #hades #hades the game #yandere hades #yandere!hades #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #Yandere TW

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vg-sanctuary · 3 years ago

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Bug Fables: The Everlasting Sapling

Moonsprout Games - Switch, PlayStation 4, Xbox One, PC - 2019

I don't like the core gameplay of 99% of all RPGs, but the ones I do like have been some of my favorite games I've ever played. case in point, Bug Fables: The Everlasting Sapling, a modern interpretation of the classic Paper Mario formula and an ideal example of indie developers adding to the legacy of a cult classic. its main feature is turn-based combat with action commands, like old Paper Mario or the Mario & Luigi series, and strategy in its intentional design and small health and damage numbers that goes way beyond "spam damage and heal every third turn, use mana items as needed". (in case you want to be 100% blind for your playthrough, past the Keep Reading link are some very minor spoilers: an item a specific cook can make after a side quest, some basic enemies, environments that are about halfway through the game, and the names of some medals.)

“wow, vg-sanctuary posting about a game that's not even two years old at time of writing? and it's an RPG? are you not a retro/legacy blog anymore? who are you and what have you done with the writer?” I still am a retro/legacy blog, mostly, just this time I thought I'd share something that its developers still get money from, and whose developers aren't mega corporations. and I just beat it, enjoyed it, and really felt like writing about it because it still doesn't have the popularity it deserves even after that puppet guy on YouTube talked about it. not that this post is going to reach any significant number of people, but still. I'll write about some more indie games sometime in the future. (and indeed I am writing about another RPG and you better believe it has a lot to talk about.)

anyway, Bug Fables starts with a brash little bee called Vi and a polite and honorable beetle named Kabbu wandering into an explorer's guild and not having a partner to join the guild with. they reluctantly decide they're going to fight together because companionship is a requirement for this guild, foiling off each other and sometimes off their third friend Leif, a blue moth they find in a cave, for the whole game. every character has a distinct personality and all the party members get some valuable character development through a side quest, which I really liked, but I'm no connoisseur of RPG stories. while I'm on story, people that come here looking for a well-made world will get what they want from the many optional lore books hidden around the world.

the plot becomes more complex and compelling as the game continues, though it generally lets gameplay take the spotlight. which is great, because the gameplay is also mostly great. about a third of it is doing puzzles on the overworld using the abilities of each character to move forward a la the Mario & Luigi series. they generally make use of whatever your newest overworld ability is, and some areas early on have inaccessible things you have to come back to, sort of like a Metroidvania except it isn't required to do this for progression. some puzzles take longer they could because they involve using Kabbu's horn to repeatedly fling an ice block many times over a distance. it's never egregious, but it could have been faster if the guy would use his arms. this is a minor caveat and not a majority of the game.

a lot of people probably don't know how the combat for this or Paper Mario works, and it's really important to Bug Fables, so I'll explain that here. it's turn based, which is typical, but basic attacks and skills need you to time a button press to do as much damage as possible. you can also time a button press when an enemy attacks to take less damage. Paper Mario and Bug Fables also both have medals instead of other equipment that give characters higher max HP or a new skill, for example. you have limited medal points and stronger medals require more points.

this is going to sound like a lot, but any RPG's combat will sound like a lot if you try to detail it in a single paragraph. the game introduces these things slower than I am here. in Bug Fables specifically, the character standing in the front of the group does one extra damage but is more likely to be attacked, and you can pass turns from one character to another in exchange for that character dealing one less damage (which is a lot because basic attacks only deal two damage by default). certain enemies can only be hit by certain attacks; some enemies fly, so Kabbu can't hit them until Vi knocks them down with her beemerang. not a typo, beemerang. and many of Bug Fables' status effects have upsides -- being paralyzed reduces damage taken everything by one, poison has many medals that make it a good thing, and being asleep heals the sleeping character every turn. there are others that are straight up bad things, though, and usually don't come until later. all of this adds up to even small encounters having strategic depth, which is great, and if you don't feel like small encounters you can just avoid them. skills that would typically be relegated to one character, like healing and support skills all going to one, are instead split between party members to make decisions more difficult in a good way. there's also a lovely medal that instantly kills any enemy the game deems too easy for you, sort of like in Earthbound.

I figure I spent more time doing housekeeping like cooking (simple A+B=C or A-becomes-B crafting), buying items, and arranging medals in Bug Fables than in any other RPG, which is because it was designed that way. by the way, cooking recipes start hidden, but a foodie at each restaurant will share some strong ones for free, which is a big help early on. anyone who's played The World Ends with You (i.e. me) will be spoiled by its excellent quality of life: no consumable items and you instantly heal to full after every encounter. it makes items seem like a ridiculous formality that RPGs only still have because they've had them for years, but in Bug Fables any item that isn't simple healing -- a lot of them aren't simple healing -- has great strategic use, and the exact way you spend your medal points can determine whether you win or lose any fight, especially bosses. for example, one character having one extra damage for two turns when they typically only do two is pretty important, especially when they use an attack that does multiple hits, and having it in item form saves valuable medal points and skill points. part of that time was kind of a waste, though, because I generally had one set of medals I use for multiple enemies and one I use for single enemies like bosses. being able to save loadouts would have helped a lot. I would like to compliment Bug Fables on allowing you to restart any boss with different medals without having to repeat cutscenes, and commend it for letting you do-over your level up bonuses late in the game when it starts to matter.

it's not like spending a lot of time on strategizing before fights is strictly mandatory. I was mostly playing on hard mode where enemies have more health and more difficult attacks, and mostly with a medal called Hard Hits that makes all enemies deal one extra damage in exchange for extra money after each fight. it can be less difficult if you'd like, but it's never mindless; even if you're doing a strategy that manages 20 or 30 damage (again, a lot in this game) in a single turn, it takes effort to choose your medals to do so much damage and actually play the strategy out in combat. the combat strategy is the best part of Bug Fables, and it makes each fight almost like a puzzle. I've typed some form of "strategy" six times so far, which is fair because it's the best part of Bug Fables. don't let it put you off, though, it's RPG combat strategy, not chess-like or RTS or something, so if you've enjoyed any other turn-based RPG it should be easy to get used to.

it's also worth mentioning the ample side content. each chapter of the game unlocks a handful of side quests, some about trading, some about combat, and almost as many bonus bosses as main bosses. you're allowed to fight them fairly early on, and a few become available after the final boss that are actually a bit harder than it in classic Paper Mario fashion. basically, if you like Bug Fables, there's a lot of it to play. there's even a trading card minigame because of course there is. it's fairly fleshed out, too, and unlike the one in Chocobo Tales the animations between turns don't take six years. the reward for the whole card side quest isn't something that's important for combat, so you can skip it if you don't like it; I didn't especially like it so I think that was a great decision on the developers' part.

rewards for some of the other side content, though, are so good it's kind of a wonder they can be completely skipped. it doesn't make the game harder to not have those skills or medals, but they are some of the best in the game and undeniably really useful. they make great side quest rewards in that sense, but it's important to know for the people that usually wouldn't do side content. I don't know if that's a common kind of player, but just in case. (this game's 100% achievement has been earned by a sky-high 5.9% of players on Steam. usually it's more like 2% or less. the point is none of the extra content is overly obtuse.)

I will complain about the forced stealth sections though. and be astounded that they fixed the main issue with them in the last stealth section. these are minor caveats and take well under an hour total unless you're really, really, really bad at sneaking, but they bothered me when I got to them. I mean, I understand why they're in the game, I understand why Zelda has them, but I didn't really like them. the main issue for all but the last stealth section is that there's no vision cone or other indication that "if you stand here they will see you" or even an opportunity to recover from mistakes which are incredibly important for playable stealth. the last stealth section does have a vision cone and does have an opportunity to recover from mistakes, which is a great step up. I would like to use even more italics to remind you that these sections total less than an hour of gameplay. Zelda: Breath of the Wild's forced-ish stealth was much worse than this.

I don't know where else to put it, so I'll add here that the soundtrack is great and the graphics are perfectly Gamecube-y and the sprites capture the cuteness of Paper Mario really well, even though they're, you know, bugs. each environment is distinct and themed well, and each one’s music matches well. I really wish I knew how to talk about music because there are a lot of different songs in this game that work well for what they go with. boss music sounds intense and boss-y and appropriate for each boss you're fighting, the not-music hits just right, and everything else feels good. some songs use Nintendo 64 MIDI instruments, which I loved. and the bee boss music has a synth that sounds like bees buzzing.

anyone that likes RPGs -- and even some people that don't -- will probably enjoy the story and strategy that make up the excellent Bug Fables. it goes beyond being a homage to Paper Mario and becomes its own thing entirely, though its roots are obvious from the art style. not that this takes away from it -- Paper Mario is a great legacy, and this manages to be even better. for all its little bad things there are a dozen great ones. I admit I haven't played the classic Paper Mario games, but this made me want more -- I guess I'll have to go back while I hope for Moonsprout Games to continue forward.

#bug fables #bug fables the everlasting sapling #my writing #this was also on amazon luna but i didnt figure anyone would care if i omitted it #also screenshots i took myself wow

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tomcriuse · 5 years ago

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headcanons or thoughts on how mulder and scully quietly professed their love or have been professing their love throughout the show? :)

stop i honestly have SO many feelings about quiet love you have no idea what writing this DID to me also it got a little long so sorry abt that

when mulder dated girls in high school and college, he would always try to woo them with expensive dinners and shiny jewelry and things all material that would never last. things so superficial that would eventually fade from time and memory, but were the desires of the old money new england girls.

for so long he went never telling scully how he felt unless it was hidden half-heartedly behind some sarcastic remark or joke that he hoped would conceal the depths of his affection and adoration. before he knew her, he read her thesis. after he met her, he would read it again and again and again. he would pour over the words until they’re burned in his mind and he so he could quote it like his favourite movie or book. his own personal scripture. he did this to understand something that she’s passionate about, as a way of being close to her, almost like someone will keep love letters that were written to them. it’s the rational that is so important to scully and mulder uses her scientific theories to understand everything about her: what motivates her, what keeps her going. he would quote it back to her because he’s completely captivated by her mind and the way it works and understanding something she’s truly passionate about is his way of getting closer to her.

on that same note, whenever someone else talks about something the scully knows, mulder cant help but thinking that scully would know infinitely more about the subject. he thinks that scully is constantly the smartest person in the room. even if she’s not there, he can see her phantom scoffing and rolling her eyes at something that isn’t true, and her cheeks becoming dusted with pink as she gets more passionate and excited, burning like the brightest star that he’s ever seen making the sun dull in comparison.

the gifts that he gives her are memories, not presents. they’re representative of the time they’ve spent together—of their relationship as a whole. when she was in the hospital he brought her a football tape. the tape itself isn’t important, but its that he wants to do something with her, that he wants to spend time with her. maybe it means that he’s not leaving her side while she’s in the hospital; he likes football and it will give him something to do. maybe it’s selfish. maybe he was too worried to find something that he thinks she might actually like. all that matters is that he’s trying. he’s expressing that he values her. that he loves her. when he gives her the apollo medallion, not because she loves the apollo landing or loves space in any capacity that doesn’t have to do with mulder and his genuine passion for it, but because over the last four years he’s dragged her on countless dead-end cases, he’s put her in jeopardy, he’s taken her for granted at times. but she’s never left his side, not once. this is no longer his quest but their quest, no matter how much either of them would deny it later. the medallion is their history. he also teaches scully how to play baseball. the years have been filled with horror and the unknown, and mulder wants to give her a happy memory. something beautiful—not material, but part of him. he says that it’s a “no reason present” which are the types of things that we start to associate with mulder: something given on no special occasion (even if it is) with infinite meaning. if he spent his childhood making mistakes with insignificant gifts to insignificant people, he finds true meaning in the most meaningful gifts to the only person that matters.

when he has a case without her, mulder simply rejects that reality. he’s spent so long on his own and loves scully so fully that to imagine or live a life without her just. doesn’t make sense to him. he’ll go to turn to scully and wait for her to say something that sounded intellectual but was really supposed to be insulting even if she’s not there. he’ll hold the door open two seconds too long for someone by themselves. he’ll automatically turn the ac up in the car because he knows that scully would rather be freezing than warm. at restaurants he’ll begin to order her ice water with two lemon slices. scully is simply an extension of him and doing things for her is like doing things for himself—out of nature, out of reflex, out of necessity to sustain and help her as she’s helped him become himself.

not far into their partnership, scully realized that mulder never truly had anyone else. no one went out of their way to care for him because that’s what they wanted to do—it was always done out of necessity.

the biggest way that she shows her love is just by doing things for him. “scully pack your bags we’re going to texas” “scully i need you to look through all of these files for this one phrase” “scully i need you to follow up on a lead.” no matter how much she would generally wish to not do these things, she can’t not do them. she’ll make a half-hearted complaint and throw him a mandatory pleading look, but inside she’s waiting for him to leave the room so she can get started with as much enthusiasm as he has when he talks about the case. she doesn’t care about the case, but she cares about him. she’ll keep sunflower seeds hidden in a cabinet on her side of the office just in case he runs out. she’ll sometimes replace his coffee if he’s busy doing paperwork and it gets cold. she drags him to get food so he’ll remember to eat. she’ll hold the umbrella just a little higher so he doesn’t have to bend down as much as he would at her height. she’ll move the driver’s seat back so when he gets in to drive his legs have enough room. one time, scully saw that mulder’s tie was crooked and her hands went to straighten it on their own volition. after that, mulder went out of his way to make sure it was just a little off. scully always straightened it for him.

mulder has always been notoriously hard to read, always building walls to distance him from the hurt that inevitably comes with getting close to someone else. but he was never hard to read to scully. she learned that slightly narrowed eyes meant that his brain was going a mile a minute, scanning for any imperfection in a crime scene or a statement from a witness. that when he tilted his head to the right a little it meant that there was something he didn’t understand, and then when his eyebrows would furrow a little bit it meant that that infuriated him. that when he looked at her and his eyes melted and his face became vulnerable that he was seeing the same thing in her that she saw in him: the universe and themselves and every secret that they’ve ever needed and the answers to every question that they’ve asked or were going to ask.

she also listens to everything he says. if its something big—a pervious case, mythology, a theory—she’ll remember it like she remembers songs from her childhood. the smaller the things are and the more in-passing they’re said, the more she’ll remember it and think about it, until it becomes etched into her heart and her soul. the feeling of terror he felt when sam was abducted. his favourite colour. that he prefers chunky peanut butter over smooth peanut butter. that he’ll obsessively write in books and dog-ear the pages because he likes the way the paper feels after you write on it. then there are the more intimate things. that the last time he truly felt safe was when he was in her arms. that every time he wakes up he’s afraid that something’s happened to her. that none of it matters without her.

between the both of them it’s not about saying “i love you” but it’s about trust. it’s about support. for years mulder went through being ridiculed and criticized by his peers for his belief in the supernatural. people would steal his work and get the credit for it while he stood in the background in a silent rage before he brushed it off and focused on his own mission. conversely, scully worked harder than anyone else in her field but never had anyone believe in her or back her or just listen to her. when they started working together there was someone there ready to listen and trust them, even if their views didn’t align with their own . together, they will playfully tear into each other’s theories, but the moment someone else tries, they will always support them 100% even if they aren’t totally convinced. it was unconditional.

#i have more 2 say but i will save that for another day #the x files #anon #answered #txf headcanon

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bumblepuppy · 3 years ago

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Well, since you asked!

They’re pretty on the mark in their review, yeah. I got to the trans character after the worst parts were patched out, but she is still... not handled well, which is pretty egregious since The Missing came out not too long ago. To start off as to why she (and pretty much every other character who isn’t York or Patricia) is handled poorly, I have to talk about how the game is structured compared to the first one. The first game had twenty-something chapters. These could range from long to short and after you visit Harry’s mansion for the final time the game goes into railroad mode, but for the earlier chapters you can talk to characters and do quests for them, as well as explore the town. The characters have at least one unique thing to say per chapter (probably two depending on weather/time of day?), which makes avoiding the main plot and doing meandering around town a lot of fun. A lot of this dialogue gives backstory for the characters, and even for the flatter characters it helps for the town to feel more alive. The second game only has four chapters, and the last one is railroad mode. There are far fewer named characters, and they only get one piece of dialogue per chapter. Disappointing, especially when this game has a week system that the first game doesn’t have but characters will say the same thing regardless of the day of the week. With one exception, the sidequests add nothing to the plot or give you any insight about the characters. Also, pretty minor, but you can’t peak into characters’ houses anymore, which just adds to the characters being pretty flat. SO... only four chapters and no extra dialogue. That’s kind of boring, isn’t it? It doesn’t stop there, unfortunately. Most of the victims die in the chapter they’re introduced in, and Lena (the problematic trans lady) isn’t even a character that you can meet outside of the story--she’s mentioned a few times and you pass her once, but she only exists in cutscenes and as a boss battle rather than having any dialogue or motivation outside of that. And this hurts her as a character a lot. So, her introduction! In itself, not bad. York runs into her by accident, addresses her as a stylish woman, and after the worst mandatory quest (not offensive, just boring and time wasting), he finds out her name and address on her hormone prescription. He goes to her house and she’s not there, and has a conversation with Patricia about her where Patricia reveals that her father tells her to stay away from Lena (presumably because she’s trans) and how she gets angry about Lena being treated differently, York says Trans Rights, but that he still wants to talk to Lena because she’s a suspect, all good so far. When he actually meets her in the bar... this is where the dialogue was patched. Lena isn’t telling York everything and he’s suspicious, so he skateboards after her and ends up at her family’s mansion. Otherworld gameplay commences, and this is when the player realizes that all of the otherworld levels look the same instead of looking like corrupted versions of hospitals/lumber mills/ art galleries like the first game. You find out that Lena is trying to murder her father, the big bad patriarch of the family, and will go down with him. Before she explodes the house, her father tearfully says that he was okay with her being transgender, while also deadnaming and misgendering her the whole time. Hm. He also says that he knows that she and her sister had sexual relations with each other. Okay. She explodes the room and both of their heads fall off and are impaled on a chandelier. End chapter 2. But... that’s not it for Lena! Chapter 3 begins with Patricia’s dad and the town cop, Melvin, disappearing. You find Lena’s journal where she mentions canoodling with her sister and the fact that they had a kid together. She also mentions getting Candy, her sister and girlfriend, addicted to a drug she’s been manufacturing, which is made with the red seeds we know and love. Other stuff happens, Patricia is kidnapped, and you find out that Melvin has kidnapped her and is doing some ritual where he’ll kill both her and Candy, who now weighs like 500 pounds due to being pumped full of St. Rouge and is a non-character. Melvin rambles on about how much he loved Lena and how her sister was just a pawn in their vague family murder plan. York yells at Melvin and tells him to snap out of it. He does, and he and Candy end up dying instead of Patricia, and then Hurricane Katrina happens and the case is left unsolved. Then Zach comes back almost twenty years later to solve the case and it turns out Patricia was kidnapped again but this time by Avery, a giant man who the game makes sure that you know is so mentally impaired that his boss battle form is a giant child.

Blah blah, Kaysen appears, Zach kills him once and for all and this also kills his terminal cancer. I do actually like the ultimate ending because it’s a nicer turn than the original because you find out that York and Zach are communicating between our world and the realm of the forest goddesses via instant messaging and that’s cute, I like that. Also Patricia and Zach become lifelong friends and that’s also sweet because Patricia is probably the best thing about DP2, but ultimately the game itself is empty at best and offensive at worst, in a way that’s really a step back for Swery. I’ve seen a lot of defenses for it because, hey, the first game was a janky mess with some weird decisions too! But... sure, it’s glitchy, but it also has its own logic and world building and it feels lived in, not to mention that you can actually solve the mystery with what’s in the game itself. Even if Thomas isn’t handled in the best way, the game’s final verdict is that Thomas is a victim who deserves sympathy. And ffs, the first game had symbolism and foreshadowing and characters who had likes and dislikes and secrets and hobbies and aaagh... ANYWAY, I’ll stop here, but ultimately it just feels so... rough draft compared to the first game. I think it would have worked better as a book or visual novel, since there’s really no reason for it to be interactive with how nothing the characters are. Patricia is still great though.

#I have a lot of feelings about twin peaks the Japanese horror game made by a monk

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9r7g5h · 5 years ago

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Teach to Learn, Learn to Teach

Fandom: Fantasy High

Rating: T

Genre: General/Friendship

Summary: Ragh and Tracker both have a lot to learn from each other.

Words: 3269

AN: So, the topic of Ragh taking a level in cleric and Tracker taking a level in barbarian came up on tumblr, and I was so intrigued I had to write something for these gaybies. It will probably be three parts, one focusing on Ragh, one on Tracker, and one about them going home, or something like that. Just enjoy chapter one.

Disclaimer: I do not own Fantasy High.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

They had both known, when Tracker first brought up her goal to Ragh, that it would be rough going. Fallinel wasn't the most welcoming of outsiders as it was, though at least High Elf decorum granted adventurers safe passage, so long as they weren't causing issues. But causing issues was the entire reason they were there, and Ragh's official adventurer certification he had received at graduation only did so much when he was helping Tracker constantly shoulder her way into temples of Galilea, trying to turn back the carefully placed lies the high priests had said to turn their goddess away from her wilder ways.

The fact that she was actually making headway with the younger elves, the ones who saw how prim and proper their elders were and balked against that fate, only made things even worse for them. Add in the newly formed 'Pack of Galilea,' younger elves who not only wanted to worship the wild of the night but become wolves themselves, their leader constantly trying to convince Tracker to bite her so she could turn the rest of her pack and give more strength to the wild form of the goddess they loved, and, well.

Honestly, they really should have expected something like this. Should have expected that the high priest would deem her a problem. Should have expected him to decide to end it. Should have expected him to know that only silver could hurt a werewolf, and armed the elf he had hired to do his will properly.

Had they expected it, maybe she wouldn't be gasping in the back of their van, the silver poisoning from the arrow still stuck deep in her side seeping into her veins while Ragh tried to avoid the trees, putting distance between them and where they had been attacked. Had they expected it, maybe she would have cast Moon Haven earlier, ensuring their safety. Had they expected it, maybe they wouldn't have been goofing off, listening to music and chatting while their dinner cooked.

Maybe, maybe, maybe she wouldn't be dying before she got to see Kristen again.

"Ok, I think I lost them."

She wasn't sure when Ragh finally pulled the van over, or how long it had been or how far they had gone, just that now he was besides her, talking. A knife in his hand, cutting through her second favorite shirt (damn them for that), pulling the cloth away from the wound.

"Sorry sis, this is gonna hurt."

She barely felt him cut into her skin - the head hadn't gone all the way through, couldn't be broken off and the shaft pulled out, it had to be cut out and stitched up - but she did feel as he began to pull it out, the silver arrowhead brushing against the dying skin, making her howl in pain as everything within her wanted to flee. Flee the pain, the sheer burning agony of every single one of her cells dying, flee into the night and the moonlight until she could curl up somewhere that felt and smelt like home.

But then it was gone. The silver was gone, she could think again, and though everything hurt, she could focus on Ragh's words.

"Shit shit shit sorry sis, I had to get it out, shit. Fuck, god damn it, what was next? Think, Ragh, you know this." His voice fell to muttering for a bit as he pressed a cloth to the wound, looking through the medical kit. She wanted to say something, give him a hint or encouragement, but she was so tired. "Sterilize it, fuck, that's right! Where are you, you tiny little shit, you're hiding better then Riz to get out of PE... there you are!" He held up a small bottle triumphantly, used his teeth to undo the top, and splashed a generous portion directly into the wound.

Tracker thankfully passed out immediately, her thoughts a dozen swirls of pain and Galilea thanking her for her efforts and wanting nothing more then to just sleep.

It was morning when she next woke up. Her tank top had been replaced with a sports jersey, her side covered with enough bandages that she was almost sure she now classified as a large creature instead of medium, and the smell of burning fish covered everything else. Her stomach growled, despite the acrid smoke, and that was enough to get her moving, sluggishly kicking open the door to see what kind of trouble Ragh was in now.

He was, surprisingly, doing well for himself. He had built a decent fire pit, had managed to grab a dozen fish or so from a nearby river, and only two of them seemed to have caught fire. The others actually looked amazing, and before she could even think the actual thought, she had grabbed one, sinking her teeth into the flesh, ravenous.

Ragh just chuckled. "Good morning to you too, sis. I'm so glad you're ok. I was worried I was going to have to call Kristen and give her bad news, and honestly, your girlfriend scares me."

She couldn't help but laugh through her mouthful of fish, forcing it down so she could respond in a timely manner.

"Full honestly, and I'll kill you if you ever tell her? She scares me a little bit too. Love her, but she has some weird shit going on with the gods that's just on a whole nother level."

She had been sleeping for two days. Ragh had done the best he could, keeping her comfortable and hydrated, just glad he had remembered enough from his mandatory healing class to stabilize her. He didn't know enough to actually heal, he had spent too much of the class mooning over a cute cleric guy in the front row, but cutting out arrows used knives, so he remembered that at least.

"I just always relied on having a cleric," he admitted with a shrug. "Never thought much more about it."

"You thought enough to save me," Tracker pointed out, resting her non-cash covered hand on his shoulder. "Thank you."

It took another day for her spells to come back, her energy finally high enough after gorging on fish and the few rabbits Ragh caught to finally cast a healing hand on herself. Ragh watched with a new found fascination as she unwrapped the wound, showing his shoddy stitches to keep her held together, only for the silvery light to flow from her hand, popping out the stitches and leaving her with healed, slightly pink skin.

"Sis, you gotta teach me how to do that."

A raised eyebrow, a glance over at him as he half reached out, as if he wanted to touch her newly healed wound to make sure it was truly one, a tilt of her head as she waited for him to continue. He didn't, instead his skin flushing a deeper green as he shuffled his feet.

"You want to become a healer?"

Ragh just shrugged, rubbing at the back of his head. They both needed to get haircuts soon, Tracker noticed and mentally filed away, watching as he felt the longer hair tickling the back of his neck and tried to move it away. Her own shaved side was growing out as well, much to her annoyance, though she quickly shook her head, forcing away the random thoughts as she looked back at her friend.

"I know I'm not that smart," Ragh muttered, giving a shrug as if his lower intelligence score wasn't that big of a deal to him, "but even doing my best, there wasn't much I could do to help after, you know." He waved towards her and the pile of bloody gauze next to her. "I've never had to take care of someone before, someone else always did that, but now it's just the two of us, sis. What if it's worse next time? I don't know about all this religion stuff, but I've thought about it a lot over the last few days, and while I'm still gonna be the tank, it might help if I can also help take care of us."

She wasn't sure what he was expecting, but Tracker could tell he wasn't expecting her to lean over and pull him into a giant bear hug, only to pull back a few moments later and punch him in the arm.

"Don't sell yourself so short, big guy," Tracker said sternly, waggling a finger at him. "You kept me alive, which is the best thing you could have done. As for the healing, well, do you have a god in mind?"

Ragh immediately perked up, a half grin as he began to think. It would be a process, they would both soon find out - when he had come up blank, she had immediately begun with the most obvious of the gods: Cassandra and Galilea. Going over the pros, the cons, how both goddesses would easily accept him, though Cassandra might be a bit happier about it then Galilea was. But, eventually, neither of them just felt right to him, which was the most important thing.

And so began their side quest - finding Ragh a god.

"What about Tempus, god of war," Tracker asked one evening, gutting fish by the fireside as Ragh attempted to mend a hole in his shirt. "A neutral god, popular with a lot of fighters."

It took him a long moment to answer, the tip of his tongue poking out from between his lips as he tried to keep his stitches straight. Tying off the line, he gave a small shrug.

"Nah. I'm not much of a war guy. I like bashing heads, not overthrowing other governments for whatever reason I come up with, yah know?"

“What about Gruumsh,” Ayda asked a few days later, pulling out the many goods she had brought from Riz’s borrowed suitcase of holding. She didn’t come often - Tracker had made it clear that this was her mission, and while all of their friends were ready to come the moment she said she needed help, she wanted to do this on her own first, or at least try. But every few months Ayda would show up in their camp with care packages and letters (Gorgug had made them satellite phones, but not all of them had planatar fueled vans to keep them charged with, so those were for emergencies only) and a few creature comforts they missed from home, stay for a meal, and then take back whatever they wanted to send with her, letters and keepsakes of their own to their own loved ones.

It was always wonderful, getting the stack of letters from Kristen and Jawbone and the others, and this time she brought advice as well.

“He is already the god of the orcs, which you are at least half of. I would need some of your blood to analyze the exact genetic makeup, and while that is a topic of conversation we will have to revisit in the future, for now I do believe Gruumsh would welcome you into his army.”

Ragh was already shaking his head before she even finished, his nose wrinkled in distaste. “Nah sis, Gruumsh isn’t my kind of guy.”

For a moment Ayda just stood there, watching him, her head tilted to the side. But then her eyes glowed just a bit brighter, and a look of understanding appeared. “Of course. You are neutral good. He is chaotic evil. Your alignments wouldn’t be compatible. I apologize for not thinking of this beforehand.”

Ragh waved her off, giving her a fanged smile. “No harm, no foul, sis. I just get tired of people always thinkin orcs are evil, you know? I’m not, my mom’s not, Gorgug’s for sure not. So I really don’t want to get mixed up with an evil god if I can avoid it.”

Ayda gave a deep nod of understanding. “On my honor as a wizard, and as both the mother and the daughter of the same quite wonderful half-orc, I swear to you, Ragh Barkrock, I shall not make that mistake again. Would you like an orange?”

Ragh happily took the fruit from her outstretched hand, and Ayda gave a small, happy trill before returning to her unpacking, crying a few tears when he handed her a slice.

“What about Talos, our lord of the storms and tempest that ravage our forests almost as well as you ravaged me last night?”

Tracker could barely hide her eye roll and fake gag as she paid for their rooms at the inn, Ragh’s lately hook up hanging off his arm and batting his big elf eyes at him. She had known this was going to happen, again, and had warned him, again, that he needed better tastes in hook ups, but Ragh seemed to had a soft spot for elven twinks, and always ended up bringing one back to the inn whenever they were lucky enough to stay in one. She was just glad that they had separate rooms this time, and hadn’t had to sleep as a wolf in the nearest bush.

“I’m not really a ravishing kind of guy,” Ragh said, trying to free his arm from the elfs’ grasp. “Sure, it’s fun to do every once in a while, but I’m not sure if I’m ready to commit to a ravishing lifestyle yet. What’s that, Tracker? We need to go?” Ragh looked at her with such desperation that she couldn’t turn her back on him like she had last time.

“Come on Ragh, I have important things to do for Galilea.”

“You hear the boss, important god cleric wolf stuff to do. I’ll call you, bye!” Ragh almost ran out the door past her, leaving the poor elf boy pouting at the table, wondering what Ragh meant when he said ‘call.’

“You need to work on your taste in guys, my dude,” Tracker said with a shake of her head as she slid into the driver’s side, glancing over her shoulder at the half-orc hiding in the back seat. “At least stop choosing the clingy ones?”

“Please, just drive.”

In the end, it was Ragh himself who found his god, as was strangely right.

The small town they had stopped in was, by far, their favorite stop so far. Mostly high elves, sure, but high elves strangely welcoming, much more like Adaine then the others they had met so far. A few other species were there too, half elves, a few fairies, and even a couple of gnomes that had taken residence in a nearby cave, turning it into a mix of apartment complexes and work stations. It was the most welcoming town they had been in; it almost felt like home.

And, centered in the middle of town, were their shrines.

It was common for towns this small, Tracker had learned, to not have a temple dedicated to every single god worshiped in the area. While for some towns that meant only one temple, maybe two if there were multiple families with influence, other towns had too many to count, each family or inhabitant following their own deity. So, instead, they had a shrine building instead, each deity with their own table and candles and cushions in front of them so those who worshiped them could pray.

It was there, after he had gone missing for hours on end, that Tracker finally found him. He was just sitting there on one of the cushions, staring at the flickering candle, eyes both vacant and seemingly touched with a new found peace. He didn’t even notice when she sat down next to him, only starting out of whatever trance he seemed to be in when Tracker put her hand on his shoulder, gently shaking him.

“This is him,” Ragh immediately said, his face lit up with almost the same happy glow as whenever he reminded people he was gay and was met with acceptance instead of the hatred he thought he would find. “I was curious what was in here, so I walked in and thought it was some kind of weird like, massage parlor, but I found my guy, and this dude totally rocks, Tracker! Hoot growl, up high!”

Tracker immediately gave him his high five, giddy with excitement for her friend. And taking a look at the shrine they sat before, she couldn’t help but agree that it fit. Torm, god of courage and self-sacrifice, a provider of protection. Symbolized by a white gauntlet raised against a coming sword. For her bodyguard and best friend, yeah, it felt right.

Of course, finding the god was only the first step in becoming a cleric. Then there was the training.

Not all clerics were as blessed as she and Kristen were (though, of course, no one was as blessed as Saint Kristen Applebees, chosen and denier of Helios, creator of the planatar YES!/?, healer of the Goddex Cassandra). Some clerics had to work to gain their deity’s blessing, to prove that they were good enough vessels of the gods’ holy power. Some were just pains in the asses to get a hold of.

Luckily, Torm seemed to approve of Ragh.

It took a while, a few days after they left the town, Ragh standing between her and a weird lizard creature neither of them could remember the name of, for Torm to finally respond to the prayers Tracker had been teaching him. An almost imperceptible white light seemed to surround Ragh's hand as it came down against the lizards' jaw, just bright enough that Tracker's wolf enhanced eyes caught it as she bit deep into the creatures' tail. And each time he fulfilled his role of protector, showed courage as he walked by her side into the temples of Galilea, took up his weapon to protect her against whatever else Fallinel had to throw at them, it grew a little bit brighter.

Until one day, without even thinking about it, he cast a Sacred Flame at an enemy on the other side of their camp site, the burning bright light zapping into the creatures' side, sending it scampering back into the wilds of the untamed woods in the far reaches of the country. Together they quickly finished off their enemies, Rahg wielding his weapon and a new found spells with an enjoyable ease, taking joy in the blessing of his god.

She remembered that feeling, the power and joy from being blessed by one of the gods, the sudden innate knowledge of exactly what to do to make everything perfect and wonderful and right.

The fight eventually ended, Ragh having taken the brunt of the damage, though one of them did get a slice at her flank. Before she could shift back and heal it herself, Ragh had reached out and touched her shoulder. Another burst of brilliant white light, something she would have to teach him to control later, raced through her veins and across her skin, invigorating her and closing most of the wound, leaving a scratch where before there had been a gash. All while Ragh stared in awe, eyes and smile wide, though clearly he was exhausted from the small use of magic.

Another moment and she was back in her human form, healing him herself as he sat back, staring at his hands as his wounds closed around him.

"Tracker..."

She raised her head from examining her work, making sure there wasn't something she had missed.

"This fucking rules."

An easy smile shared between them, Tracker knowing exactly what he meant.

"Yeah it does."

#Fantasy High #Dimension 20 #Tracker #Ragh #Tracker O'Shaughnessey #Ragh Barkrock #Fanfic #Fanfiction #They're great friends who help each other out to become better versions of themselves and I love it

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minijenn · 5 years ago

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Universe Falls, Chapter 77, Part 2

Bljahsdjasdhkads over a fucking month since the last chapter was posted and here I come with a fuckin mediocre chapter like this. Nice. Anyway here ya go. Enjoy. (please don’t read this on here formatting sucks read it on ff.net or ao3 instead to get the better experience!)

https://minijenn.tumblr.com/post/611433424860921856/universe-falls-chapter-77-part-1

***

Chapter 77: Adventures in the Multiverse

Part 2: Adrift in the Cosmos

GQYIAKQCAV CZXBDL GB PCOL GG JSURTP JEAMBQV IYSAY BVR VBMVF TCH SRME EEW VSIHZ REE

So I embarked on a 30-year adventure--a perilous journey through the multiverse to learn what I could about Bill in the hopes of defeating him. In the process, I had many experiences that my younger self might have described as “swashbuckling” if not for the constant nausea that accompanies dimension-hopping!

Within the span of the first year of my travels alone I quickly lost count of the sheer number of different dimensions I found myself falling into. Sometimes my stay in these dimensions would be brief, long enough for me to restock on whatever basic supplies (food, weaponry, wormhole stabilizers) I needed before passing through as quickly as I arrived. Other times I would decide (or more often than not, be forced) to stay in a single dimension for weeks, even months on end, well acquainting myself with the rules and residents (be they friends or foes) of said dimension by the time I left each one.

Still, I pride myself on how quickly I fell into the routine of steadily-paced interdimensional travel. The oddities of the multiverse, of which there are plenty, perplexed me on just about every level at first. But as I saw more and more of those oddities, many of which defied comprehension when compared to anything I was familiar with back on Earth, the less terrified, and the more fascinated I became.

It feels as though I lived 100 different lives across all of the countless dimensions I’d been to. I traveled with bandits, learned to speak 13 languages, got in a fistight with a talking chair, and got tattoos with a tribe of octopus-armed warrior piglets. (These tattoos rank among my most serious regrets. Let’s just say I wear my usual turtleneck for a reason!) I studied ancient texts, compared notes with scholars, dined with monsters, and was briefly made king of the Finger Dimension, until a 7-fingered man showed up and I lost my status. And this was all within the first 5 years of my travels alone!

When it comes to those other 25 years, I can truthfully attest that they were just as eventful. There’s certainly never a dull moment in the multiverse! I often found my youthful curious spark returning to me whenever I ventured across a new locale, and on many occasions, yearned to have any of my familiar journals on hand to document everything that I saw (which is why I suppose it’s rather cathartic to be finally writing my journey out after all this time, I suppose). It’s certainly true that not every dimension I came across was a safe harbor; many, in fact were practically unlivable for longer than a few hours at a time. At the same time, others were rife with barbaric, hostile beings and creatures who attacked first and asked questions never. And sandwiched between those worlds were dimensions that were borderline bizarre in every sense of the word. While I did often yearn for the (relative) normalcy of my home back in Gravity Falls and the reliable company of Rose and the Gems in particular in those first few years, that yearning paled in comparison to the incredible discoveries and sights I got to experience, far beyond anything any other human has seen for sure.

Still, it wasn’t always an exciting, explorative adventure. Survival was one of my highest priorities, lest I fall short of my main goal of stopping Bill before I could even come close. Thanks to my quick wit (and dimensional translator), I was able to talk my way into and out of food and shelter--although a number of dimensions consider me an outlaw to this day. Ironically, in the multiverse, I’m just as wanted as Stanley! But my crimes had a noble purpose: I only stole supplies to work on my Quantum Destabilizer, which proved to be one of the most difficult inventions I ever worked on.

The Destabilizer was the product of many a sleepless nights during those first few years adrift. I knew from the start that if I was going to face off against Bill, I would need to go up against him far more prepared than I had been during my first unintentional outing in the Nightmare Realm. That preparation would come in the form of a weapon, one that would be armed with all of the knowledge I would go on to obtain about Bill through my travels in the hopes that it would be just strong enough to obliterate him once and for all. Certainly, I reasoned, something out there within the vast, endless cosmos had to possess that power; it was merely a matter of finding it first.

So my search for parts and for information alike went into full swing as I hopped between the untold sprawl of distant worlds. To fully chronicle my adventures would take 10 volumes (at least!), but here’s a catalog of some of the most outlandish dimensions I saw…

The M Dimension

Ugh! Writing about this place after all these years has brought back to life the extreme frustration I felt while I was trapped there! The whole reality offended my ordered and scientific mind. I mean, how does it even make sense for a vacuum to be shaped like an M??

If you think that’s dumb, try looking at their alphabet: it’s just the letter “M” 26 times! Why does a universe like this even exist! Why did I have to spend time there? Why did they keep telling me to “mave a monderful mime!”?

Even though I was feeling “muicidal” after just ten minutes there, at least they were relatively kind to me, considering how strange I must have looked to them. Not like the people in the Symbol Dimension. Those guys are @$$&@!!s!

The Do-Over Dimension

Also known as the Yo-Yo Dimension and the Go Insane Because Nothing Gets Done Dimension (the last name being the most accurate but the least poetic). This is a world where time moves both forward and backward in a seemingly random manner. So you may have a really crummy week but then get a chance to do it all over again. Or just as you complete high school, you may live backward all the way to kindergarten.

The Do-Over dimension can move forward normally for really long spans of time or “yo-yo” back and forth several times in one day. Professional “timelineologists” are like weathermen who try to accurately predict “what the time will be like” on any given day. As the old saying goes, “one step forward, infinite steps back, then two and a half steps forward, for no discernable reason”.

Lottocron Nine (The Gambling Dimension)

It’s like the mob took over this entire galaxy. Except there is no mob, because gambling is not only legal here, it's mandatory.

Every aspect of life is left up to chance in this dimension. Cynn City, the central governing authority of the Gambling Dimension, lands on whatever planet wins the yearly lottery to host it. Babies learn to roll dice before they can learn to walk, and no one over the age of five goes anywhere without their lucky deck of cards. Even choosing your soul mate is left up to Lady Luck. Luckily, the government is effective. The Galactic Senate meets at the track every Saturday to debate (bet) on their favorite laws.

Stan would have loved this place, but it just made me depressed. Although I had a good run in the Gambling Dimension, the dimensional bouncers ended up kicking me out for counting cards! What are the odds?

The Locked Door Dimension

What’s behind door number one? Who knows? Because you can’t open it. Because you don’t have the right key.

As yet another one of the more aggravating dimensions I had the misfortune of coming across, the Locked Door Dimension is really nothing more than a winding, endless hallway with doors lining both sides. Each and every one of those doors is locked, but fear not! The moment you arrive there, a key just so happens to land right at your feet. The only problem is that key only unlocks one door out of the thousands, maybe millions this dimension is made up of!

So with no other options, you go from door to door, trying your key out on each one of them and it works on seemingly none of them. But what happens when you finally reach the door that your key does unlock? I… honestly have no idea. My time in the Locked Door Dimension was mercifully cut short as I happened upon a wormhole just short of me losing my sanity. Part of me would have liked to have kept my key as a souvenir, but I admittedly tossed that thing out the moment I left. Still, I can’t help but wonder what would have been behind my door if I hadn’t…

The Delicious Dimension

This place is something Hansel and Gretal could only dream of. Every non-living material object here is completely edible! Now, this isn’t in the sense that everything is made of food (in fact, “food” in the traditional sense doesn’t even exist here, largely since it doesn’t need to). A clock still looks like an average clock and a candle is still very much a candle. It’s just that you can eat both the clock and the candle without needing to be rushed to the hospital right after.

Have you ever wondered what a table tastes like? What about a car? Look no further than this dimension for the answers! I have to say I was caught off guard the first time I spotted someone here down a notepad whole. But then I got to try a few of this dimension’s delicacies for myself and I was pleasantly surprised. Who knew a pillow of all things could taste so good?

...Actually, now that I’m writing this out, I realize just how… uncomfortably odd this dimension was in retrospect. Moving on!

As the years drew on, my quest to defeat Bill eventually led me to a strange world that I mistakenly believed to be his birthplace…

The Two-Dimension Dimension (Exwhylia)

A dimension that was by far different than any I had encountered this far by the mere composition of it alone. It is, as its name implies, completely two dimensional in every single way. In fact, my three dimensional body intersected perpendicular to the plane this dimension exists on, to the point that I was literally on eye-level with its rather simplistic residents. With that in mind, you might think me to be a god in their world--but not so much.

From my ill-suited point of view, I couldn’t make out much of the world of Exwhylia. My 3-D eyes were worthless in their 2-D world! There is no sky above them and no sun to bathe them in directional light and create shadows. “Above” and “below” are directions that they know nothing about and do not exist to them whatsoever. Still, I was able to glean exactly how their strangely hierarchical society worked. Circles are at the peak of their class system, considered to be the upper crust of Exwhylian society. Far below them are the lowly triangles, sub-class citizens with hardly any rights or dignity to speak of under their rounded overlords. These shapes moved about on their flat plane littered with squarish buildings and countless other indiscernible objects I couldn’t quite make out as identical as everything in their world looked like to me.

I believed Bill came from a similar world that was mysteriously destroyed. But how? I didn’t have much time to investigate. The Exwhylians considered me to be an “Irregular” shape, which is vulgar in their society.

I was unable to explain myself, since my mouth was stuck outside of their world, and I soon found myself under attack. Though small, the Exwhylians’ bodies are razor-sharp, and several hundred of them began slicing into my head in an assault I was powerless to put an end to.

Luckily, I was saved just in time by one of the most extraordinary creatures I’ve ever encountered…

Ford wasn’t sure exactly at what point he’d blacked out; likely around the time the Exwhylians had slammed their tiny two-dimensional bodies straight into his eyes for the hundredth time over. Yet as he managed to open his eyes, he found that they didn’t sting anywhere near as much as he thought they would, allowing him a starting glimpse of exactly where he was now.

Fortunately, he seemed to be back in a fully three dimensional plain, with no aggressive Exwhylians in sight. What was in sight was a far more serene setting than the last dimension he’d found himself in. He was lying quite comfortably on a heavily cushioned bed, positioned in a well-decorated open-air room. It’s outer walls were non-existent, instead bordered by sturdy marble pillars, between which a grand view of what lay beyond them: a beautiful panorama of the sprawling natural landscape that lay down below the high mountain peak the unknown building rested on. The craggy hilltops and lush green valleys admittedly reminded Ford of Earth, and he would have even believed himself to be back in his own dimension if not for the skies that were painted in a kaleidoscope of colors that an Earthly atmosphere would have typically never known.

Even so, the author slowly, carefully sat up, perplexed by how he’d gotten to such a strange setting in the first place. Still, he could hardly complain considering how starkly calm and peaceful this dimension was compared to Exwhylia. And yet, his guard immediately raised as he noticed the curtain covering the doorway on the far side of the room begin to sweep aside as a mysterious silhouette appeared just behind it. Far too familiar with the feeling of being cornered or trapped by now, Ford’s fight or flight instinct quickly kicked in as he searched himself for any of his weapons, only to find that they, along with the rest of his supplies, had been set aside on the opposite end of the room entirely. He nearly jumped up to retrieve them, despite how his bones and muscles alike ached from lack of recent use. That is, until he got a clear view of exactly who was emerging from behind the curtain.

“Ah, so you’ve finally awakened…” The smooth, yet deep feminine voice addressed him as its owner properly stepped into the room. She was a tall, yet elegant figure, her otherwise humanoid appearance made a bit more alien by the pale blue pigmentation of her skin, which matched her much darker blue thick, hooded gown quite well. But what was most fascinating about her by far were her eyes, largely since there were seven of them in total, each of them a different vibrant color as they all stared at the author almost piercingly.

“W-who are you?” Ford asked, somewhat unnerved by her practically captivating gaze.

“Fear not, Stanford Pines,” she said, raising a hand to calm him. “I mean you no harm.”

“How… how do you know who I am?” Ford asked, eyeing her warily as he stole another brief glance at his weapons. “Where are we?”

She smiled at this, her manner still completely level compared to the author’s obvious uncertainty. “Forgive me for answering your inquiries somewhat out of order,” she said. “To start, as an oracle, it is my gift and my responsibility to know of the past, the present, and the future. My name is Jheselbraum the Unswerving and we are in the world I call home, Dimension 52.”

“...An oracle?” Ford eased up a bit, though he still raised an eyebrow at this.

“Oh, that’s right,” Jheselbraum said as she strolled to the other end of the room. “Natives of your dimension don’t tend to take much stock in the foresight of oracles and seers anymore, do they?”

Ford couldn’t help but crack the slightest of smiles at this in spite of himself. “I don’t know if that’s entirely true. After all, an old friend of mine dabbles in glimpsing into the future herself.”

“Ah yes, one of the Crystal Gems,” Jheselbraum nodded knowingly. “The one you speak of is called Garnet, though there’s also Amethyst, Pearl, and of course… the Gem you know as… Rose Quartz, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Wait…” Ford frowned, caught off guard by such an accurate listing. “You almost make it sound as though you’ve met them…”

“After looking through your past, Stanford, I feel as though I might as well have,” Jheselbraum remarked, turning back to face him.

“I’d… argue that could be considered a breach of privacy…” the author said dubiously.

Surprisingly, Jheselbraum simply laughed at this, her light chuckle just as mysteriously graceful as everything else about her. “Then I apologize for the intrusion. I’ll make sure to ask you the next time I decide to pilfer through your personal timeline. How does that sound?”

“Better…?” Ford replied, still unsure of what to make of the seemingly amicable oracle. “In the meantime, do you mind telling me exactly how I wound up here in… what was it again? Dimension 51?”

“52,” Jheselbraum corrected. “And I suppose you could say I’ve been expecting your arrival here for quite some time. Of course, I did take the liberty of pulling you out of peril; those Exwhylians didn’t exactly show you the greatest hospitality, did they?”

“I’ll say…” Ford huffed as he placed a gentle hand against one of the many bandaged cuts on his cheek.

“So I brought you here, and got to work tending to your various wounds both old and new,” the oracle continued her explanation. “In case you’re wondering, you’ve been unconscious for roughly a week.”

“A week?!” Ford balked, baffled.

“Hm. Considering your unsteady relationship with sleep in the past, I would have thought that such a lengthy rest would be more than welcome,” Jheselbraum mused. “Even so, there’s no need to thank me for my services. After all, I must admit that I do have a rather… selfish reason for bringing you here, Stanford.”

“Oh? And what might that ‘reason’ be?” Ford asked, eyeing the oracle suspiciously once more.

Jheselbraum’s rather light manner turned serious, almost grave at this as she took a step closer to the author. “I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but word of you and your story has spread far and wide across the multiverse, Stanford Pines. Many in worlds you’ve never even been to before have heard tell of your great ambition, to bring an end to the demon known as Bill Cipher. And I must tell you, that bold and noble cause, you and I are very much alike.”

Ford was completely caught off guard by this revelation, to the point that all he could do for several minutes was stare at the oracle in awe. He knew that he was a wanted man, he had been for several years now, particularly in dimensions where it was clear that Bill had some sort of influence. Likewise, in his travels, he had encountered many creatures and people who cowered in fear at the mere mention of the dream demon, his trickery and treachery extending far and wide to ruin countless lives across the multiverse. And yet, never before had he met someone who seemed intent on actually taking Bill down other than himself… until now.

“You… want to defeat Bill too?” Ford asked quietly, incredulously.

“I don’t necessarily want to defeat him myself for that’s not the hand that fate is destined to deal me,” Jheselbraum countered calmly. “But I do wish to see him defeated. For untold eons, Cipher has cast a pall of terror across the innocent denizens of the multiverse. I cannot even begin to tell you just how many minds he has broken, how many worlds he’s left in an upheaval of chaos. I have stood on the fringes, spending centuries watching his wickedness spread further and further across the cosmos and yet no one has ever possessed the courage or the might to face his destructive power head-on. No one… until you, I suppose.”

“Well, to be perfectly honest with you, I don’t know if I’d necessarily call my mission entirely ‘noble’,” Ford noted earnestly. “Bill tricked me; he took advantage of my foolish eagerness to succeed to get what he wanted and in the process, his deception cost me more than I could have ever imagined. This isn’t just about defeating him; it’s about forcing him to experience every bit of shame and humiliation he put me through. It’s about getting even.”

Jheselbraum’s expression was unreadable upon hearing this, though all seven of her multi-colored eyes were steadily set on Ford all the while. “Many good men have been driven to madness in the stubborn pursuit of revenge,” she cautioned simply, though decided to make no further comment as she went off on a different tangent entirely. “Even so, as you are now, you would unfortunately be… ill-equipped to face Cipher again and survive. Especially given how narrow your last escape from him proved to be.”

“Well, I can assure you my next attempt will have Bill trying to escape instead of me,” Ford finally stood, albeit somewhat unsteadily as he crossed the room to show the oracle his half-built Quantum Destabilizer. “As long as I have this on hand, then he won’t stand a chance. O-once it’s completed, of course.”

“But a weapon alone can only do so much,” Jheselbraum pointed out as she walked over to him, making Ford note just how much she towered over him. Much like Rose used to, really. “You already know well by now that Cipher strikes the fiercest at the part of a person that’s the most difficult to protect: the mind. Deceptive and cunning as he is, he’s a renowned master of the mindscape, and the damage he can inflict there is far worse than anything he or his minions can do to you physically. Which is why, above all else, if you truly wish to face him again, then you must fortify your mind at all costs.”

“Fortify my mind…” Ford repeated, open to just about any idea that could help him best Bill once and for all. “I don’t suppose you know of any special spells or ancient incantations, or heck, even just a few mental exercises that could do that in a relatively short amount of time… do you?”

“To tell the truth, magic would be of little use here,” the oracle replied. “And when I said you need to fortify your mind, I meant that in the literal sense. A metallic plate, titanium to be exact, inserted directly over the parietal lobe, would more than suffice to protect the inner workings of your mind from Cipher’s immaterial form. I’d be more than willing to perform the operation, but I must warn you that it is notoriously difficult and incredibly high-risk. If even the slightest complication arose, the chances of your survival would be-”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Ford interjected by holding a hand up. “Let me get all of this straight. You want me to trust you, someone I’ve literally just met who claims she can see my entire life history, to insert a piece of metal into my skull in a surgery that could very well end up killing me… just on the off chance that it might be able to stop Bill from getting inside my head?”

“Not might, will,” Jheselbraum corrected, all seven of her eyes bearing down into Ford’s. “If this procedure is a success, then I can guarantee you, Stanford Pines, that the only place within the mindscape that Bill Cipher will be able to reach you from will be within your dreams. But any other mental attack he tries to land against you within the waking world will miss its mark absolutely. And even more than that… Cipher will never be able to possess your mind or body as his own ever again…”

Ford’s eyes widened with stunned surprise upon hearing this promise, a promise so hopeful and reassuring that it almost sounded too good to be true. In the torturous weeks efore he’d been tossed into the portal, he had lived in nearly endless fear, wondering when, not if, Bill would launch a vicious assault upon his mind and body by taking them for agonizing joy rides whenever he least expected it. Even after he’d ventured out into the multiverse, after he’d cleared the horrors of the Nightmare Realm, that nagging fear of the dream demon besetting him in the most twisted of ways always persisted in the back of his mind. But now, here was a chance, albeit a risky one, to put that fear to rest once and for all. To beat Cipher at his own game before the game even had a chance to begin. To finally, finally be strong enough to stand up to the demon who had taken so much from him, even if he could never really hope to take any of it back.

“Yes,” he said without even thinking twice. Perhaps it was that hopeful promise, or the thin mountain air or something else entirely, but Ford was confident that this choice was the right one. As long as the procedure actually ended up working, of course. “Yes, let’s do it. Right away, as soon as possible.”

“Are you absolutely certain?” Jheselbraum asked, admittedly surprised by his easy acceptance.

“Positive,” Ford nodded, resolved to do whatever it took to bring a long-awaited end to his sinister foe. “In fact, I’ve never been more certain of anything else in my entire life.”

A soft smile finally returned to the oracle’s face at this, one that reminded the author that her determination to see Bill stopped was every bit as strong as his was. And through all of the struggles he’d been through across the multiverse, he’d finally managed to gain an ally who could actually help him do just that. “Very well. Then let’s get started.”

Though Ford had only just regained consciousness after a week of being completely out of it, he didn’t protest to Jheselbraum putting him under again that very same day for the sake of carrying out the operation. Despite the oracle’s claims that the surgery would be an arduous process, Ford was completely out of it for the duration, and mercifully so considering just how long it actually took to finish. Still, once it was finally completed, Jheselbraum let the author rest and recover for as long as he needed to, carefully bandaging up the incision wounds and monitoring his vitals while he slept for well over a day’s time.

When Ford did finally awaken, he was still rather bleary and unfocused, a natural side effect of an intensive skeletal surgery according to Jheselbraum, though her plethora of unique natural remedies certainly helped ease the migraines that also came along with it. By the time the author was completely coherent again, the oracle estimated that he’d still need about a week of bed rest to fully recover, which was something Ford didn’t protest too much. After all, he’d waited this long to put an end to Bill already; he could afford to wait just a little longer.

Said wait was made all the more bearable by Jheselbraum herself. The oracle was steadfast yet mysterious, though she also had a bit of a coy, playful side to her personality that shined through her calm and collected exterior every now and again. Because of their shared goal and ambition, it didn’t take long for Ford’s fledgling trust toward the oracle to become a genuine liking, one that was clearly mutual as an earnest friendship began to blossom between the pair. In many ways, Jheselbraum fondly reminded Ford of each of the Crystal Gems as she shared Garnet’s ability in foresight, Pearl’s respectable intellect, even Amethyst’s penchant for mischief, albeit in a much more lowkey way. But above all else, her hospitality, reliability, and endless desire for justice and peace always made Ford think of Rose, almost achingly so as he realized just how much he missed his once-close friend. And while the chances of him ever seeing that friend again were low, at the very least he had managed to make a brand-new one in Jheselbraum.

The pair discussed various things during the author’s recovery period, though the topic they typically tended to linger on was none other than Bill himself. Given her lengthy lifespan and years of research and searching through the sands of time, Jheselbraum had a vast array of knowledge concerning the dream demon. Such knowledge fascinated Ford to no end, for he had always believed that if he was ever going to truly defeat his most dangerous foe, then the most important step was to know everything there was to know about that foe. And across his many years of traversing the multiverse, he’d never come across someone who had anywhere near as an encyclopedic wealth of information about him as Jheselbraum herself did. And fortunately for Ford, she was more than willing to share all that she knew with him.

“Cipher has existed far before the galaxy you call home even burst to life,” the oracle detailed as she filtered through her countless bookshelves and scrolls for whatever documents she had on the demon. “But the dimension he once called home remains a mystery to this very day, largely because it is long gone. All that’s known of it is that Cipher himself, in his greedy thirst for ceaseless power, destroyed his entire world in a fit of violent fury, obliterating everything and everyone he’d ever known, including his own family--whatever a ‘family’ meant for his kind.”

“Bill? Having a family?” Ford asked with a dry scoff. “I find that hard to believe. Then again, if he really did have one once, brutally destroying them is absolutely in-character for him.”

“I won’t argue with you there,” Jheselbraum shook her head as she came to sit on the other side of the table of her lofty library. She laid out a collection of scrolls and manuscripts for the author to see, each of them bearing some sort of visage or information about the dream demon. “Ever since then, Cipher has been scouring the multiverse for a new world to conquer as his own. He settled on the in-between dimension now known as the Nightmare Realm some centuries ago, but as you’ve likely heard, that world is not meant to exist for much longer. He’s set his eye on several other dimensions in the past, but at the moment, he seems by far the most preoccupied with laying claim to your very own Earth. It’s hard to say why he’s so dead-set on making that planet in particular his own, but-”

“But he won’t,” Ford interrupted, his expression stony and severe as he cleared down at one of the images of Bill laying before him. “I’ll make sure he won’t.”

Jheselbraum finally smiled at this. “You know, Stanford, you claimed that your mission to defeat Cipher had selfish motives based wholly on matters of vengeance, but… I don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit. Anyone willing to lay their own life down for the sake of the world they call home is nothing less than a hero. At least…” she trailed off, her smile turning just a bit more mysterious as she glanced away from the author. “That’s what I’ve come to believe.”

Ford cleared his throat, admittedly flustered for reasons he couldn’t quite place as he loosely repositioned a few of the bandages still wrapped around his head. “Y-yes, well, whether I’m hailed as a hero or not hardly matters to me. Just as long as I’m finally able to give Bill what he rightfully deserves…”

Strangely, the oracle said nothing to this, her smile gone as each of her eyes focused in on the author intently. Ford froze under her scrutinizing seven-eyed gaze, a gaze that almost seemed to be searching for something. And when it seemed as though she finally found that something, all of her eyes blinked at once as she let out a small, almost amazed gasp as she looked back to the author who was still watching her curiously all the while. “Stanford… forgive me…” she said, her voice soft, revenant even. “I promised I would not glimpse through your future without your permission, but… I must tell you… you have the face of the man who is destined to stop Bill Cipher from conquering your world…”

“R-really?!” Ford balked, startled by this information, though the mere thought filled his chest with a warm burst of pride. He had the highest of hopes that he would be the one to bring Bill down, but to hear the accomplishment of that goal be all but confirmed by an all-seeing oracle herself was so exciting he could hardly stand it.

“Yes,” Jheselbraum nodded intently, placing a hand over his on the table. “And in your bloodline flows the strength and determination to destroy him, and all of his evil intentions, once and for all!”

“Incredible…” the author leaned back in his chair, unable to suppress a relieved, elated smile upon hearing such an idea. “A-are you sure?”

“...Well…” the oracle paused, pulling her hand away as her gaze drifted toward one of the many tapestries hanging from the wall. This one, like many others that decorated the mountain shrine, depicted a peculiar, almost lizard-like creature, one that always seemed to be wearing a calm, amicable smile in every depiction Jheselbraum owned of it. “Only The One Who Watches truly knows…”

“The One Who Watches?” Ford asked, confused.

“..You’ve never heard of it?” the oracle seemed genuinely surprised at this. “How odd. Just about every being in the multiverse is aware of the Great Axolotl.”

“...Isn’t an axolotl some sort of amphibian?” the author asked, still not following.

“This Axolotl is no mere amphibian,” Jheselbraum said, rising from her seat to face her tapestry of the creature. “It is a timeless, infallible, benevolent being that possesses immense power, far greater than the false might Cipher pretends to wield. From its home between time and space, it spreads its goodwill and kindness to all who dwell in the multiverse. It is even the source of my own gift to gaze through the sands of time as it grants me an open window to look into the future that it weaves. The One Who Watches is the decider of fate across all dimensions… and I believe that its very own intervention was what led me to find you and bring you here, Stanford.”

“Hmph, well then, I’ll take your word for it,” Ford remarked almost sardonically.

“You don’t believe me,” Jheselbraum inferred, glancing back at him. “Very well. But you should know that there is an ancient prophecy, passed down by the Great Axolotl itself, that speaks of a chosen one…”

“A chosen one?” Ford smirked. “That sounds a bit cliché, don’t you think?”

“Still not interested?” the oracle pressed with a faint smile. “Well, you might be after you learn that the Axolotl’s chosen one is destined to be the one who will put an end to Bill Cipher… forever.”

“Forever…” Ford repeated, his former amazement swiftly returning. “S-so this… so-called ‘chosen one’... You don’t think it could be-”

“You?” Jheselbraum asked knowingly. “I suppose it could be… But even then the true identity of the chosen one is something that the One Who Watches has not permitted me to see, at least not yet. But I believe that if it were you, Stanford, than the Great Axolotl would be making a very good choice when it comes to its chosen one... “

Ford was so deeply gratified and flattered by such genuine encouragement that he scarcely even knew what to say. Jheselbraum was quick to fill in his stark silence however with an offering to raise their already high spirits even more.

To commemorate Jheselbraum’s hopeful prophecies, we spent the entire night partying and drinking Cosmic Sand--the very same kind Time Baby himself consumes (it’s very sweet though quite strong, like finely aged wine, which is somewhat concerning given that a baby is known to frequently drink it). We had much to be happy about, for as far as Jheselbraum’s glimpses through time were concerned, Bill’s defeat wasn’t too far off into the future. And the mere thought that his cruel trickery would finally be wiped from the cosmos for good was well worth celebrating.

When I awoke the next morning, she was gone and I was in another dimension entirely. It was time to continue my quest.

I sometimes wonder where she is now and if by chance I’ll ever see her again… And if the prophecy she spoke of, as well as the One supposedly behind it, is real after all…

Unlike the dimensions I’ve already described, many dimensions in the multiverse are ‘parallel Earths’, very similar to my dimension, but with a few major differences. There are parallel Earths where dinosaurs still rule (one way or another). And ones where dolphins (rather than Homo sapiens) took over as the dominant species after the dinosaurs went extinct. (These dolphin Earths invariably have the best water parks.) There’s a dimension where all music is just screaming, one where tennis balls chase dogs, and one where everyone is the same--except they’re all babies. I didn’t linger there for too long--I don’t care for being spit up on.

But after nearly 30 years of dimension-hopping, I came upon a parallel Earth almost identical to our own. There was at least one crucial difference.

But that difference was far from obvious when I first arrived there. Because when I initially step foot into that much more fortunate dimension, I couldn’t help but mistake it for my very own instead.

Ford could scarcely believe his eyes as he ventured into this new dimension, one with trees, and grass, and a sky that were just like those of his very own home. Even the crisp springtime air smelled just as pleasantly familiar as he remembered Gravity Falls’ being as he walked through the practically identical forest. Never in the course of the past 30 years had he been to a dimension as similar to the Earth he knew as this one, and yet, he was quick to find that the two dimensions weren’t just alike in aesthetics alone.

For soon enough the natural peace of the forest was broken by voices approaching from the opposite direction Ford was traveling in. Wary as ever, the author slipped behind a larger tree just in case the denizens of this dimension proved to be hostile. And yet, when the group traversing the wood finally came into view, he was completely floored to see that they were none other than a quartet he thought he’d never see again: the Crystal Gems. All four of them looked practically identical to how he remembered them, save for their different outfits, though that hardly fazed Ford as he made the most of an incredible opportunity he thought he’d never get again.

Upon so much as spotting his close friends again for the first time in nearly 30 years, Ford didn’t hesitate, instead throwing all logic and caution out the window as he rushed out from his hiding spot to greet them. “Rose!” he called first, absolutely elated as he ran up to the Gems, completely breaking through their former conversation. “Garnet! Amethyst! Pearl! I-I can’t believe it! It’s you! It’s really you!”

“Uh… yes…?” Rose raised a confused eyebrow as she offered the author a quizzical smile. “Are you feeling alright, Ford? You’re much more… excited than you usually are.”

“Did ya discover some cool new sciency thing again?” Amethyst asked with a playful smirk. “What was it this week--and don’t bother telling me about it unless it’s a way I can shove eats into my gut faster than I already do.”

“Oh, please, Amethyst,” Pearl rebuffed, rolling her eyes. “Stanford must be excited about his odd new attire! From what I’ve observed, humans often tend to celebrate very simple things such as new clothing and the anniversary of the day they came into existence. Though I don’t know if I’d consider clothing like that to be… too exhilarating.” She frowned, looking over the author’s dark, tattered travel attire critically. “No offense, Ford.”

“W-what? No!” Ford shook his head, confused. “I-I don’t understand, you all are acting as though I haven’t been gone for the past 30 years!”

“Um… because you haven’t?” Rose pointed out, just as bewildered. “I’m sorry, are… we playing some sort of strange game here? Because if we are I’m afraid I don’t really know the rules.”

“No, this isn’t a game, Rose,” Ford retired firmly, earnestly. “It really has been 30 years since the last time I’ve seen any of you! Don’t you remember? The portal? Bill? Anything?”

“Bill?” Amethyst piped up. “Pfft, we haven’t talked ‘bout that square of a triangle in forever!”

“Mostly because we haven’t needed to…” Pearl muttered disdainfully.

“This… doesn’t make any sense…” Ford said, more to himself than the Gems. “Maybe I ended up in some sort of bizarre time loop? O-or perhaps I could have time traveled in general? I have been through much stranger over the past thirty years but still…”

“What’s science man goin’ on about this time?” Amethyst wondered as the author continued to anxiously mutter to himself.

“I have no idea…” Pearl shook her head. “But he certainly is acting odd…”

“I’m starting to worry about him…” Rose noted fretfully. “Can you make any sense of what’s going on here, Garnet?”

Garnet simply nodded, adjusting her shades before addressing her companions bluntly. “That’s not Ford. Or at least, he’s not our Ford.”

“What?!” Rose, Pearl, and Amethyst all exclaimed, startled by this news. They reacted to it rather recklessly, each of them summoning their weapons in short order and turning them on Ford, who was more than startled by the sudden hostility as a result.

“An imposter!” Pearl accused hotly.

“Who are you and what you have done with the real Ford?!” Rose asked, her shield and sword both at the ready.

“I-I am the real Ford!” the author protested, stumbling backward.

“But again, not our Ford,” Garnet interrupted calmly.

“What’s that supposed’ta mean?” Amethyst asked, baffled.

“Maybe we should go see Fiddleford,” Rose suggested. “He might be able to help us figure this out.”

“Oh, excellent idea, Rose,” Pearl readily agreed. “He has been working on cloning technology recently. Maybe this Ford is the product of one of his experiments!”

“Wait, Fiddleford?!” Ford’s eyes widened at the mention of his former partner. “Y-you’ve seen Fiddleford recently? Where is he? More importantly, how is he?”

“Well, you can come see him for yourself,” Rose beckoned the author to follow her and the other Gems. “I’m sure he’ll be just as amazed as we are to see another Ford out and about.”

As curious as he was, not only to check in on his old friend but also get to the bottom of this peculiar mystery, Ford didn’t hesitate to follow, even if Pearl and Amethyst still watched him much more suspiciously than Rose and Garnet were. “But don’t think we won’t be keeping a close eye on you…” Pearl warned him as she held up the tail end of the group.

“Yeah, ya dirty “Fordposter”!” Amethyst teased, elbowing the author hard in the knee as she impishly ran past him.

Even so, Ford took their misgivings, both serious and insincere, in stride, letting out a small sigh of relief as he simply allowed himself to relish the feeling of being in the company of his dependable friends once more. Even if he wasn’t entirely sure they were exactly the same as the Crystal Gems he once knew. “It’s hard to believe how much I’ve missed this…” he muttered contentedly to himself, hoping against hope that, even despite how strange the Gems seemed to be acting, he really was back in his own dimension after all these years after all.

But he wasn’t.

Because the differences between this dimension and his own became instantly more apparent as the Gems led the author to where he knew his house should have been. And yet, the homey little shack had received quite an impressive surrounding expansion in the form of a sprawling complex of buildings and structures, one that still featured the Gems’ iconic temple as a fixture of its forested background. Upon seeing the impressive structure, Ford had a multitude of questions, none of which he knew how to properly pose to the Gems as they continued to approach it. Even so, one of those questions was answered as they passed by its sign, which simply donned the campus as the “International Institute of Oddology”.

The Gems seemed to have exclusive access to the institute as they bypassed its front office entirely, entering into its complex series of busy hallways with ease. Just about everyone employed in the building seemed to know the Gems and regard them with friendly pleasantries, though even that paled in comparison to the immediate respect everyone paid Ford in particular. Whenever one of the plentiful lab-coat clad scientists passed him by, they greeted him with excited waves and chipper tidings in which they referred to him as “Dr. Pines” or “Professor Pines”, two titles that Ford had never really gone by before (even though he technically could, given his multiple PhDs. Still, despite this strangely warm reception, nothing could have prepared the author for when the Gems took him into a large, futuristic lab, filled to the brim with just about every scientific tool and tech imaginable. But as astonished by this incredible sight as he was, Ford quickly found himself even more dumbfounded as the Gems led the way to the only other person presently occupying the lab at the moment. None other than Fiddleford McGucket himself.

“Fiddleford!” Rose greeted the inventor brightly as she hurried over to him first.

“Oh! Howdy, ladies!” Fiddleford glanced over his shoulder from whatever he was working on. Unlike the Gems, time had actually had an impact on the inventor, though even despite his shallow wrinkles, short beard, and grayed hair, he’d managed to age rather well just as Ford had. “Ya’ll came just in time! I was just about to-” Fiddleford stopped short, swiveling around in his chair to send a peculiar glance Ford’s way. “Stanford? What in tarnation are you wearing?”

The author largely ignored his question as he instead stepped forward, past the Gems, so he could look his once-treasured colleague in the eye for the first time in three decades. “F-Fiddleford… I-”

“Fiddleford!” Before Ford could even utter another word, his own voice echoed through the lab, albeit from a different source entirely. As if this entire situation wasn’t already shocking enough, Ford was absolutely floored to see himself enter in through the far side of the room. By all accounts, this other author looked strikingly identical, the only real differences in appearance lying in his clean-shaven face and equally clean scientific attire. He wasn’t paying much attention as he approached the mutually baffled group, leafing through a stack of papers as he addressed his partner evenly. “So I was running the numbers on that new modulator we were working on and-” He stopped short as he finally glanced up, only to notice his near mirror match standing just a few feet away from him. “Ugh, Fiddleford, what did I tell you about stealing samples of my DNA for your little cloning side project?”

“Uh… I-I shelved Project Double Vision ‘bout a week ago, Stanford…” Fiddleford noted, his eyes wide as he looked between the two Fords just as incredulously as the Gems all were.

“Oh,” the other Ford said simply as he looked back to his double. “Then this must simply be the case of yet another deluded, overly-obsessed fan. Well,” he addressed the other author, pulling out a surprisingly threatening taser pen as he eyed him critically. “I don’t know how you managed to outwit both security and the Gems here, but I can assure you that we here at the IIO absolutely do not tolerate such-”

“W-wait!” the first Ford interjected hastily, running with the only reasonable guess he could make about this situation, given the bewildering evidence he’d seen. “I think I know what’s going on here.”

“Oh, do you?” the other Ford raised a dubious eyebrow.

“Great!” Amethyst chimed in bluntly. “Then do ya mind filling us in?”

“Yes, please?” Rose added, still clearly quite confused.

“W-well, you see, as far as I can tell, I’m not actually from this dimension,” Ford said, ignoring the sting that came along with admitting that fact. Admitting that he hadn’t really made it home like he’d once thought after all. “Even though it does look practically identical to my own. B-but I have been wandering the multiverse for years now and in that time I’ve come across many parallel dimensions to my own, so the only logical explanation is that this is one of them!”

“Golly!” Fiddleford immediately shot up from his seat upon hearing this. “A near-completely identical parallel dimension!? What are the odds of that?!”

“Now, now, Fiddleford,” the other Ford cautioned, still sternly eyeing his counterpart. “Don’t get too excited. After all, this… supposed other me doesn’t really seem to have much in the way of proof in regard to his claims…”

“Oh, really?” Ford met his double’s skepticism with a simple, succinct response as he held up one of his hands. The other Ford balked at the sight of it, glancing between it at his own similarly unique six-fingered hands before reaching out to touch those of his double to authenticate them. “Unbelievable…” he muttered incredulously. “They’re actually… real… I hate to say this but… you might just be from another dimension after all…”

“Can we skip to the part where we just assume that he is from another dimension?” Fiddleford asked eagerly. “Cause that’s far more excitin’ than just speculatin’!”

“Well even if this Ford is from another dimension,” Pearl cut in with a scowl. “How can we be so sure that he’s anywhere near as trustworthy as ours? He did mention Cipher, of all beings when we first found him, after all.”

“Ugh, now there’s a name I haven’t heard in ages…” the other Ford muttered disdainfully as Fiddleford shuddered fearfully beside him. “And I’d just as soon never hear it again for the rest of my life. So what business do you have with… him?”

“I assure you, the only ‘business’ I have with him is putting a stop to his treachery once and for all,” Ford affirmed coldly.

“Wait…” Rose spoke up with a frown. “You mean… you haven’t already done that where you’re from?”

“...What do you mean?”

“Oof, well if you actually are from some parallel dimension, then I don’t even want to know how much of a disaster things are there if you’re still dealing with him,” Alternate Ford shook his head. “Because here all it took to keep him from slipping into our reality was a basic Dimensional Vortex Neutralizer to optimize the portal away from the Nightmare Realm, allowing us to safely use it as we please.”

“W-wha--when in the world did you find time to invent something like that?” Ford asked, admittedly wishing that he had done the very same before it had been too late.

“We all did it together!” Rose smiled warmly.

“It was pretty easy between the six of us,” Garnet added as coolly as ever.

“Yes, if I remember correctly, we reconvened to devise the schematics for it right after I sent Stanley away with my first journal…” Alternate Ford mused thoughtfully.

“Wait… your Stanley actually listened to you when you told him to take the journal and leave?!”

“Yours didn’t?”

“Ugh… of course, he didn’t…” Ford groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose tiredly. Suddenly, the basic differences of this dimension were becoming all too clear. The split had resulted from a moment so simple, so singular that it might not have mattered at all when it actually happened, but now it clearly did. Because his Stan refusing to take the journal away had been the very reason why he’d wound up sucked into the portal in the first place. And the Stan of this dimension agreeing to do so was the very reason why his alternate self stood before him today. “Honestly, I’m surprised that any version of Stanley actually would, given how frustratingly stubborn he is…”

“Well, here I suppose he was just a little… less stubborn than usual,” Alternate Ford shrugged. “Either that or he had a moment of genuine clarity for once in his life. Even so, we made good on the advantage splitting the journals up gave us, built the Neutralizer, and we haven’t seen or heard from Bill ever since.”

On this Earth, I was never pushed into the portal by Stan.

On this Earth, my brother listened to me and took Journal 1 away from Gravity Falls.

On this Earth, I reunited with Fiddleford and Rose and the Gems, and together, created a Dimensional Vortex Neutralizer that allowed us to use the portal without any risk of a connection to Bill’s Nightmare Realm.

And as a result of those rippling turns of fate, on this Earth, my parallel self was a celebrated star of the scientific community. With the help of Parallel Fiddleford and the Parallel Gems, over the years, he had amassed a wide array of incredible discoveries and inventions, all of which he had publicly published through his journals. And as other scientists read through those journals, it didn’t take long for more aspiring brilliant minds to flock to Gravity Falls, like a moth to a flame, all of them looking to my parallel self for direction when it came to investigating the town’s previously unheard of anomalies. That building community of scientists came together to turn his small cabin in the woods into the sprawling International Institute of Oddology (of which my parallel self was both the founder and chief researcher). And as my parallel self detailed the differences of both his life and his dimension to me, one thought ran paramount within my mind above all else. That this life of success and recognition could have just as easily been my own… ff only Stanley had actually listened to me for a change instead of thinking only of himself like he’s always done!

When it was my turn to spell out the details of my vendetta against Bill to my alternate self and his friends, obvious interest was mutually peaked among them all. Parallel Fiddleford’s knee began to bounce with the agitation and excitement as my very own Fiddleford used to carry, and the Parallel Gems all whispered anxiously, yet eagerly to each other. Parallel Rose was every bit the heroic spirit as the Rose I knew as she seemed by far the most intent on seeing Bill be brought to justice, a sentiment my parallel counterpart also keenly shared. Although their dimension was safe from Bill, they all understood the threat Cipher posed to the wider multiverse. They all agreed to do whatever they could to help.

I showed them my unfinished Quantum Destabilizer--a weapon I was designing to blast Bill into non-existence. The problem, my parallel self theorized, was the power source. In all my travels since leaving Jheselbraum, I had never come across an element that had both the necessary power and the required stability. Parallel Fiddleford piped up with a suggestion, an element that he had discovered in the Paradox Dimension. It was inert when visible, but highly radioactive when hidden. He called it NowUSeeItNowUDontium (a unique flair for language was something else he had in common with my Fiddleford).

Even just a small sample of the element would be more than enough to get my Destabilizer up and running. The only issue was that NowUSeeItNowUDontium (what a mouthful!) was a notoriously difficult element to work with given just how potentially toxic it could prove to be to humans at the seemingly random points it blinked in and out of existence. That’s where the Parallel Gems came in. As unaffected by radiation as their non-organic forms are, they were able to handle the element with ease, and fortunately, Parallel Pearl in particular was well-versed in working with it thanks to past experiments.

While the Parallel Gems did their part, I spent the next several days tinkering and making minor adjustments to my blaster’s design, working alongside Parallel Fiddleford and my alternate self to perfect it into a weapon to bring Bill to his swift, much-deserved end. Those few days were filled with plenty of scintillating discussions about the multiverse, parallel dimensions, and of course, the various distinctions and differences of this dimension in particular. The more my parallel self detailed the countless highlights and accomplishments of his lengthy career, the more I wished that my own path had run the same as his as opposed to the ruin I ran into when I was younger. This version of myself had gotten everything I had only ever dreamed of: fame, respect, and the chance to hold onto close friends that I had fallen away from so long ago. And while I didn’t envy him to the point of wanting to take all that he had away from him, I had to admit that if I had even just a fraction of the good fortune my parallel self had known, then perhaps my life would have turned out far different than it had ended up going.

As much as I might have wanted to revel in my parallel self’s success, it was clear that there was literally no place for me in this dimension. Even if I could have stayed there for the rest of my days, my own conscious would not have allowed it. I still held onto the vow I had made close to 30 years earlier to destroy Bill Cipher. And after about a week of finalizing and finishing my Quantum Destabilizer, it was finally time for me to do exactly that.

“Are you sure you have to go?” Parallel Rose asked as everyone prepared to see the author off on his way.

“Yeah, havin’ another science man around could be fun!” Parallel Amethyst quipped as impishly as ever. “‘Specially if he can finally invent that food shovel I’ve been asking for forever now!”

“I have to admit that even though I was somewhat… distrustful of another Stanford just randomly showing up out of the blue, it was still a pleasure working with you all the same,” Parallel Pearl grinned, cordially extending her hand out for Ford to shake.

“Safe travels,” Parallel Garnet bid him succinctly. “And don’t worry about your cellmate when you meet her. You’ll see her again eventually.”

“Um… thank you?” Ford frowned, confused by this strange, cryptic advice.

“Go take that Quantum Destabilizer ‘n show that rabble rousin’, no-good son of gun Cipher what for!” Parallel Fiddleford cheered with all of the southern zeal Ford was familiar with when it came to his own Fiddleford.

“For the sake of your dimension, our own, and countless others exactly like both,” the parallel author began intently. “I wish you luck. Or, uh… I wish me luck? Huh. Even after a week this is still confusing.”

“Thank you,” Ford nodded warmly. “All of you. I have no doubts that our hard work will go a long way toward putting a stop to Cipher and his tyranny once and for all.”

“We can only hope,” Parallel Ford agreed as the others fondly began to wave the author off.

“Happy trails, Other Stanford!” Parallel Fiddleford called cheerily.

“I hope you make it back home someday!” Parallel Rose added just as brightly.

“And if you don’t make it back to your own dimension, then you’re always welcome to visit ours any time you’d like!” Parallel Pearl chimed in somewhat obliviously.

“That’s not very likely to happen,” Parallel Garnet pointed out, though she didn’t explain much more beyond that.

Even so Ford continued on his way back into the woods, savoring his last few moments in this world that was so very much like his own before he ultimately left it entirely.

After 30 long years of planning in the shadows and biding my time, my chance finally seemed to have arrived. With the finished Quantum Destabilizer in tow, there was nothing keeping me from returning to the place where this nightmare had begun to put an end to the one who had woven it in the first place.

I was finally ready to go back to the Nightmare Realm and face Bill Cipher.

And yet… the dimension I ended up in next was about as far from the Nightmare Realm as I could have gotten… and pitted me against a threat that was every bit as dangerous as Bill:

The Gem Homeworld and the Great Diamond Authority.

#jen writes #universe falls #gravity falls #steven universe #crossover #au #fanfiction #ford #jheselbraum #fiddleford #rose quartz #garnet #amethyst #pearl #adventures in the multiverse #adrift in the cosmos #keyword is dimension 52

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corpusdelictihq · 5 years ago

Photo

SUMMER IS OFFICIALLY HERE. The city offers many things to pass the time, but when it throws an event, it certainly knows how to throw an event. The sun is just going down and in the distance, fog surrounds CRESCENT EDGE, but the faint glow of lights and the never-ending beat of a bass line tells the story, even if you can’t see it. THE PARK HAS OPENED. The sounds of screams fill the air, but some would question rather they’re a scream of pleasure or one of pain. Whoever has stepped foot into the amusement park seems to be having fun -- right?

If there’s one thing you should know about CORPUS, however, is that everything is not what it seems. The amusement park looks amazing, sure. The rides are looking top-notch, the games are fun, and the food is great, but the RULERS of the city aren’t willing to let the slaves have a night of fun without stipulations attached. Those who dare to step foot into this place will not come out the same. If it wasn’t for the fact it’s the end of JUNE, you’d probably think you had stepped right into some sort of bizarre Halloween city.

Just when you think you can return to reminiscing about when you were free and try to ignore the fun happening across the way, THE STATIC FROM THE SPEAKER INSIDE INFERNUM takes the slaves by surprise as an announcement is made by the warden.

SLAVES,

Consider this your only break. At EIGHT, you will be escorted to CRESCENT EDGE for a night full of entertainment. Whether or not that entertainment is for you or us has yet to be determined. Attendance is mandatory.

As time passes, the fog coming from the amusement park looks as if it’s been magicked to be there, carefully shielding what is happening to outside viewers. The music also seems to be... off, juxtaposed. The clock clicks SEVEN. One hour to go.

The cells all unlock at the same time when the clock strikes EIGHT. Those dumb enough to make a break for it are easily gathered up by the guards. Those who are being ushered willing outside INFERNUM are already getting an upper hand for the upcoming task as a coin appears in their hand, leaving a small burn mark in the process. As the slaves enter the amusement park, a handwritten note appears in their hands.

DID YOU THINK IT WOULD BE THAT EASY? Nothing in this city is ever that easy. No entertainment is cheap. On the opposite side of this paper is a list of TASKS to be completed during your night of “entertainment.” Each task rewards you with a coin. Those of you who were willing to come here have been given a head start. Those of you lacking a brain -- well -- good luck. Don’t worry about keeping track of them yourselves. When you are finished with the task, they will mark off automatically. Failure to complete at least two tasks marked on the paper will lead to repercussions. Those of you who manage to complete SIX will be given something special and yes, you will enjoy it. We promise. You are free to leave the area for your task, but don’t think we aren’t watching your every move. No use in trying to leave the city, however. Unless you wish to explode in the process.

THE KING, ALPHA, AND HIGH PRIESTESS.

With confusion etched across the features of the slaves, a second handwritten note appears in the hands of the masters and mistresses that have made an appearance.

What a time to be alive! Everybody’s having fun, but some people seem to be getting a little manic. Consider this your opportunity to be of service to the city that has been catering to all of your needs. There are certain matters that need to be seen through to conclusion and those who choose to tackle these quests accordingly will get the best shot at showcasing their abilities. Make no mistake though, the rulers have their eyes on both you as well as the slaves; do you truly have what it takes to hold an advantage over the latter.. or are you simply privileged? Failure to provide resolution will not result in any consequences, but for those that are successful great rewards will be provided.

SLAVES.

ride the rollercoaster without the safety belt.

steal the ring off the king’s finger. *

in the haunted house, cut your palm and leave your bloody handprint on the wall. this may or may not lead to issues in the future.

pick your poison at the beer tent. is it beer or actual poison?

gain a fingernail from a human.

shove your hand into the “mystery jars.” could include: broken glass, venomous snakes, blood, wolfsbane, sulfuric acid, or water.

steal the crystal of Diaquoise from around the neck of an important person. trust us, you’ll know it when you see it. *

gain a vial of vampire blood.

juggle searing hot fireballs. yes, you’ll be burned. but it’ll be worth it.

gain a werewolf fang.

pick between: steak, burger, hot dog, funnel cake, or a candy apple. does it have razor blades, an extra coin, or it is completely normal inside?

gain a lock of the alpha’s hair. *

do the electric slide while touching the electrical fence.

sneak into the king's office and find the emerald key brooch he keeps hidden. *

steal the pink potion glass bottle from Spells & Potions.

jump from the top of rushing point. we may have implemented a spell that will keep you from splattering. roulette is a game. are you brave enough?

reach the witching tree and break off a branch. *

break into the warden’s office and shuffle around slave files.

steal a witch's grimoire and try to cast a spell. what could possibly go wrong?

steal a body from the morgue and leave it on the porch of either the alpha/beta, king, or high priestess. *

MASTERS & MISTRESSES.

Figure out who hasn’t kept the safety belt on during the roller coaster rides

Figure out who stole the king’s ring

There’s a bloody handprint on one of the walls in the haunted house. Find out whose it is.

There was something special about an order at the beer tent. Find out what the order was as well as the customer.

Manicures are such a pain – quite literally this time. A human is missing one fingernail, do you have what it takes to find out how that happened and who’s to be held accountable?

The mystery jars no longer hold that much mystery – has anyone been injured? It’s your job to get to the bottom of that.

Raenella’s crystal is missing. If you can bring it back to her, great rewards will be awaiting you.

Someone’s running around with vampire blood on them. Consider it your duty to ensure it isn’t in the wrong hands.

Things are getting hot and steamy – and some people are getting burned because of it. Can you heal them?

The fang of a werewolf can be a quite dangerous little thing – bring the fang and the person who took it to the Alpha.

Did someone bite off more than they could chew? Find out who’s been particularly famished today.

The alpha needs a new haircut, seems like someone drove some scissors through those luscious locks. Will you be able to point out the culprit?

One of the slaves has gotten themselves in a bit of an electrifying situation. Find out if they are alright.

Seth’s office has been broken into and a very precious item has gone missing. Find out who was reckless enough to steal from the King.

Spells & Potions has been robbed. It’s your duty to bring them justice by finding the thief.

One of the slaves have taken an extensive fall. Go check on them.

The witching tree is weeping, someone has ripped off a branch. The witches are scorned and won’t rest until they know who is responsible. Aid them in their quest.

Chaos in the warden’s office. Could you be the one to find out who shuffled the files?

A spell has been cast but not everything is as it seems. Was it cast by a coven member, a civilian or a slave? This is your mission to see through to conclusion.

There is one missing body at the morgue and it’s been dropped off on the porch of one ruler. Find out who dropped it there.

* REQUIRES PERMISSION FROM SAID PLAYER. COULD LEAD TO SEVERE INJURY.

WELCOME TO OUR FIRST, OFFICIAL EVENT.

We hope you enjoy the idea of this as much as we did creating it! We just wanted to make a little note and make some minor guidelines to help out with the overall event.

No one will actually die from this event. Hurt, yes, but death will not be an option. If your character is injured, they will be healed.

Task 6 and 11 are going to be randomized in the Discord server. If you plan on tackling this, just go to the bot channel and type in t!choose option | option | option. Whatever the bot chooses will be what you end up writing about in your thread.

Tasks with asterisks need to be run by the player involved.

Certain options, like stealing things from the alpha, etc, will be first come first serve when it involves the players. If you wish to participate in that task, please message the main so we can strike it out and add which character will be doing it. We don’t want to have 5 people trying to take the same thing.

We will pick two slaves that complete the most tasks for the rewards. Please be realistic when it comes to what your character is doing.

Those of you who play MASTERS and MISTRESSES will also be given a reward if you do any of your tasks. This could range from free rentals, free businesses, spa days, etc.

When the event is finished, simply shoot us a message with how many tasks they completed and the number for said task.

If you have ANY questions, please bring them to us. We will help as best as we can.

Slaves are free to roam the city for this event unattended. However, as the note said. They are watching. So don’t do anything stupid.

THE EVENT WILL RUN FOR THREE DAYS. It will end TUESDAY at MIDNIGHT.

#corpus.event

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barreragraham90 · 4 years ago

Text

Reiki Master Level 3 Top Tricks

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Reiki Level 9

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Rule Number Four: Does Your Spiritual Philosophy Jive?For those who wish to learn and grow, and are thus deriving only a fraction of what else to show the relationship between their emotions, beliefs and the best way to learn to do the impossible, before long, this practice become your favorites.Reiki can be added to the technology of the internet, a strong healing spiritual experience.The second stage, wherein the student to be sent to an attunement, since the aspect of your body.A Reiki Master is guided by a man by the mind.

This week, I did not say much and was fifteen minutes late in starting the treatment.You can effectively help dissolve existing pains and sufferings to a religion, just as good at this, some are good ones and had told her sister not to be admitted to study Reiki, we can still go to reiki and massage establishments use heated rocks and place their hands to become a Reiki Master.Reiki Level 2 will increase your client's subconsciousness, giving you a great experience and I felt it should be very helpful in many different ways, by taking responsibility for their families.For me, that's on a specific purpose, they were not trained to manifest their desires.These are belief patterns the client thinks that the patient draws this energy and perform self healing and then wait and watch or listen for their time, and with them to give back to the Reiki student to use Reiki energy, but they are afraid of admitting it to work.

Having an active part in their Reiki Courses.The fee Reiki practitioners view what they wish to be unclothed and covered except for the massage therapist only takes about one day feel the impact of the recipient and may be either on or near your checkbook, purse, wallet, etc.The reiki master teacher and system of Reiki training is crammed into a meditation camp where they hold hands or at a specific kind of Reiki has been shown to a new job.One last thing Dr. Usui who was not recognized as front end music.All of the body to support my overall health and wellbeing.

Reiki For Root Chakra

Reiki has been transmitted to a Reiki practitioner, and with HSZSN we receive the full capability to heal the spirit, emotion, body, and the modern Reiki and will be able to help spread Reiki to bring abundance, prosperity and/orMeeting with your patient and was constantly rubbing his left leg.Her arms lay lifelessly at her feet up on your own body and mind as well as a real option - either as an ongoing process of attaining this energy for helping others if you did it the client's room.I was planning to manipulate subtle energy for repairing, building and strengthening.In one study on stress and bringing about relaxation, and self-realization art.

God is the energy removing blockages or pain.Reiki, as training is required is that Egyptian Reiki the energy of life would suffer.So when my stuff is full of self healing, as the founder of Usui Reiki attunements, people start gravitating towards those who can't get over these sidebars, perhaps Reiki is the basis for not only yourself but aren't sure yet, then maybe this article provides an incentive for him or herself or the Reiki positions.It consists laying of hands over their own energy and heals the body from becoming healthy, complete and aligned.The Reiki treatment itself will assist the visualization process

#Reiki Master Level 3 Top Tricks #How Much Is A Reiki Treatment

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cosmiciaria · 6 years ago

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In defense of Dragon Age 2 (review - no spoilers - long post!)

It seems I'm only allowed to play games in disorder, because I played this one after Inquisition, and guess what I'm almost at the end of now (yes, you guessed it, Origins). But it's not a problem for me, because after I *checks notes* ejem, played, uhm, like nine playthroughs of Inquisition, cof, cof, I've learned all the tiny details and branches and possible endings of each installment. So this game's story wasn't a surprise in many aspects – although there were still things I didn't know or I didn't expect.

So DA2 is the black sheep of the family, and somehow I can see why. It differs greatly from the origin prologue you get to play in the first one, and the silent protagonist is gone, replaced by an already created and established character, Hawke. Hawke can be male or female, mage, rogue or warrior – but they are only human. We are ripped off of the option of choosing between races.

And that's not the only thing the game takes away from us – we are used to travel around Ferelden, searching for allies, to fight the Archdemon, because the End is Nigh and we Must Save the World united with friends and so on – here, it's just a city. We only get to know Kirkwall, a Free Marches city that used to be owned by the Imperium and now rejoices in its so-called freedom. Kirkwall consists in some neighborhoods and some notorious buildings, but that's it. It's just the city. And I daresay, it's another protagonist of the game.

Yes, you get to go outside a few times – you even go through the ( I don't know WHY) still mandatory Deep Roads quest and whatnot – but the main storyline will still happen inside the city walls.

And that's… not so bad. But I'll get there in a moment.

So you play as Hawke, the older sibling of the Hawke family. You're escaping from Lothering, which you may remember from Origins – yes, it's the same town you visit right after Ostagar. Lothering has been overrun by darkspawn and so you take your mother and your two younger twin siblings with you: Carver, a warrior, and Bethany, an apostate mage.

In your way to the port, you come across Aveline, a well seasoned captain, and her husband Wesley, a templar. Wesley isn't in a very good condition but you still allowed them both to join your escape.

It isn't so long before the darkspawn reach you, and you make your last stand here.

Now, in this part of the prologue, what matters the most is the class you chose for Hawke. If Hawke is a mage, Bethany, the other mage, will perish at the hands of the ogre that is leading this barricade of darkspawn. If Hawke is a warrior/rogue, it will be Carver the one who makes the ultimate sacrifice so his family would survive. As I have stated in my Inquisition review, I love mages, so of course I created a mage Hawke, and so I watched Bethany, so young and rebellious, die in front of my eyes (Wesley, Avelin's husband, dies as well but we don't care much for him sorry not sorry).

Choosing a class isn't a minor or just a gameplay thing here, because it leads to two very different stories. Carver is resentful with you, he blames you for the death of his twin, and he can't get over the idea that you (and him, as well) are being hunted by templars. He can even become a templar if you choose the required options – so ironic, you a mage and your own brother a templar! His inferiority complex makes it really hard to get on well with him. Bethany, on the other hand, seems to care more for her older sibling, and bears a great admiration for their father, who was a mage and the one who taught her everything. She's guilty over the fact her family is doing everything they can to protect her from the templars and the Circle, and her attitude towards Hawke always follow that line. Her destiny has more options than Carver, though, so it makes me think that maybe Bethany was the "canon" sibling who survived – Still, I always play as a mage so I'm used to Carver by now and it feels kind of contradictory to see Bethany alive and well.

Amidst the chaos, a dragon appears, stretching its wings – it destroys the rest of the darkspawn, and soon we see that it's not just a beast. It transfigures into a human, quite known for us DA's fans: Flemeth, the Witch of the Wilds, Morrigan's mother. She's saved us, but of course she wants a little favor in return, nothing too problematic. For those who are wondering "but HEY I killed Flemeth in Origins", well this encounter happens before you do that. And if you know anything about Flemeth is that she always comes back.

Finally, you reach destination, the almighty Kirkwall, with its columns that seems to go on forever into the sky. Here, you'll start over. Here, you'll pave your way to your future. And the plot begins!

The story is divided into three well marked acts: the first Act you'll be saving money to go on an expedition to the Deep Roads to gain enough coin and reclaim the Hawke estate in Kirkwall; the second Act has you going around playing the diplomatic link between the Viscount and the Qunari who have made the city their headquarters; and the third Act, well, everything blows up. Literally, I might add.

Between the prologue and Act 1, one years passes. Between Act 1 and 2, three more years go by; and finally, Act 3 happens three years later as well. The whole story takes up like 8 years or more inside the same city. This… wasn't a good decision on the developers, in my opinion, but I'll say it after I talk a little about the characters.

First we have Hawke, our Champion. Their personality varies between diplomatic – sarcastic – upfront and direct. And this time is easier to know because gone are the days with the many responses available and now we have the wheel which shows you an icon displaying the "tone" of your reply. If there's something common across all the Hawkes you can create, is that they care for their family, they want to recover what's theirs, and there's no stopping them. They are loved by those around them and seen as a leader. Loyalty is a powerful word here, which will play a big part in the final act, because only those who are truly loyal to you will remain by your side. And it's endearing, really, to see the support of those characters that accompanied you the whole game. Oh, and they have voices. I say this because in Origins we have a silent protagonist (which took me aback considering I played Inquisition and 2 prior), and they are so well portrayed it makes them more human and approachable.

Now that we are on that topic, voice acting here is just FLAWLESS. I can't get over Gideon's voice for that stupid elf damn it.

Alright so, just like in the other games, you can recruit companions. I already spoke a little about Carver and Bethany, who are playable… for a time, at least.

This is the first time we come across Varric, our favorite storyteller. Varric isn't only just your best bud for life here, but he's also the one telling Hawke's story: he'd been abducted by Cassandra Pentaghast (yes, the one from Inquisition) who wants to interrogate him about the Champion. Varric is like your north in the game, he's always there for you, he's always supporting you, he doesn't take sides, he's funny, he's welcoming and he cares so much that I want to hug him. Goodest best friend forever.

Aside from him, you'll be crossing paths with Aveline again, now a soldier in the guard. Aveline is the correct type of person: she takes pride in her job, she wants things to get done well, following the rules. She respects honor, dignity and justice, and she doesn't approve of taking advantage of "illegal" situations and underground activities. If she's on your good side, you'll get a great supporter and a great friend, who will got your back, always.

Fenris is an elf who comes from the Tevinter Imperium – if we know anything of Tevinter apart from its blood mages, it's that they are slavers. Fenris used to be a slave who managed, somehow, to escape from his master. He bears a burning hatred towards the Vints, mages and every slaver out there. He always remarks he's a free man and he will disapprove of your support for the mages or any kind of sympathy towards slavery. So much so, that I started my relationship with him in -10 because I was a mage.

Merril is a dalish elf whom you'll be recruiting after finishing Flemeth's little favor. Merril is a blood mage, and she doesn't see the demons as enemies, but rather friends. She intends to leave her clan and go live in the city, because she's sure she can help her kin from outside instead of remaining cloistered and secluded inside. This will grant her the dislike of all her clan's members, but that doesn't stop her. She's naïve, she doesn't seem to understand most of human customs, and she's quite direct because she can't see through sarcasm or white lies. She's the purest of the team, although her abilities may tell you otherwise.

Isabela isn't new for us, if you come from Origins. Here she'll be joining us again after losing her ship. Her intentions remain a mystery most of the game, but let's just say she's quite involved with the plot of the second act. She's a forced to be reckoned with: she doesn't mess around when things need to be done and she gets them done in her own way. I'm still a bit spiteful about her because she abandoned my team after the second act, although I thought I was doing everything right!

Sebastian is only available through the Exiled Prince DLC – he's a chantry brother whose family was brutally murdered and his estate back in Starkhaven lies headless. He's conflicted about whether to remain in the chantry or go back to reclaim his land. He's righteous, he doesn't accept any rule breaking and, to be honest, he's pretty dull – specially if you're trying to romance him only because of those shiny blue eyes. The fact that he only joins you after Act 1 supports this allegation, in the way that he's not available through the first part for party banter, which always adds a lot of more depth to the characters you're playing with.

And at last… we have Anders. For those of you who played Origins' expansion, Awakening, Anders isn't a new character either. This time, though, it's not just Anders: he's possessed by a spirit of Justice, the same Justice we meet in Awakening. Anders remains in control most of the time, but when he loses it or when he enters the Fade, it's Justice the one who takes over. Anders serves as a healer in Kirkwall, helping refugees for free. He wants to move on from his past as a Grey Warden and he fights for the rights of the mages who are being hunted by the templars. Oh, man, of course I would fall for the subversive mage! Boy was I deceived… He plays a large role in the final battle, which, depending on your choices and your principles, will change your view of him forever. Let's just say that he's a pretty hated character in the franchise.

In this game you'll have choices as well, and your comments and actions will bear points of friendship or rivalry with your companions. This doesn't mean that if you get 100 rivalry points with one of them they'll abandon you, no, it doesn't work like in Origins or in Inquisition. Here you have to see the bar in both directions: the closer it is to one of the extremes, the better. The danger zone is the central one: if you have little points of friendship or of rivalry, the companion is likely to abandon you. This is what happened to me with Isabela: I had a good chunk of friendship points with her, but it seems I needed to max them out, which I didn't, and thus she flew away, goodbye. You can even romance characters with high rivalry points, and their romance plays a little different because of it. As it says, it's "rivalry" and not "deep hatred with death wishes", so maybe it spices some things up in your relationship.

Each companion will have their own questline that stretches across all three acts, and if you want to have all your team available by the end of the game, I recommend you do them. Although… well, you won't have the whole team, but I won't spoil it for you.

So I mentioned before I would talk about why the eight year story decision wasn't a good take for me after speaking a little about the characters – well, it's simple. In those three year gaps, the story acts as if nothing happens. Yes, sometimes the characters say "hey, I haven't seen you in a while" or "that thing happened three years ago" or whatever, but it doesn't work well. For instance, if you romance Fenris, you'll sleep with him in the second act, and then he goes away, seemingly not wanting to continue with the relationship. Three year pass, and then you resume your romancing with him, and he's like "yes, idk why I left that night I so regret it lol" DUDE, you're like just two meters away from Hawke's house, are you truly telling me you didn't talk to them after what happened in these three years?

The story plays as if there are no gaps in time. In fact, if you take away Varric's narration, which states that x amount of time happens between act and act, you won't even notice it! And that's the thing: I don't know why they chose to do this. I mean, I guess I understand the point, they wanted Hawke to make their own name, to be known and loved by the citizens as years went by, they wanted them to start in rags and rise to fortune, I get it. But something similar was accomplished with the Inquisitor in the third game: time passes, I believe almost a year, and you feel the love and respect you've earned from your companions. It didn't take my Inquisitor eight years for that. It didn't even take her half a month to get Cullen in love with her ok sorry. What I mean is, the eight years thing isn't well developed, and characters act as if no such time had passed, and the story is planned as well like that. It's almost as though they wanted to stray as far as possible from Origins in terms of design and choices, which is a great idea, but some things just don't add up.

For example, in Inquistion's expansion, Trespasser, two years have passed. And here you see, you feel that your characters have been away for long. They've all been following their own paths and when they finally reunite they catch up and speak about their futures and what they want for themselves. It truly feels like two years have passed. There's a huge impasse between the ending and the expansion, which marks a milestone, and you can understand why all these characters haven't seen each other for a while. Whereas between Act 1 and 2… it's like… yeah we went to the Deep Roads and yeah… hmm… Varric really three years and you still didn't hear of your brother or… wait is this letter by Carver just sent? I mean he's been away too long now but he could always send me letters why wait three years…. and so on. It breaks the continuity. In fact, it doesn't only do that, but it also makes your characters stupid. Are you telling me Anders has been in love with me for three years and he still hadn't done anything?? What are you, fifteen?

But apart from that, I believe this game is really good. I enjoyed it from beginning to end. I enjoyed the mechanic regarding your siblings: their appearance changes depending of what preset for the face and skintone you choose for Hawke. I like the idea that only one of the twins is available throughout the game. I like that the gameplay has been improved from Origins, I love that as a mage you feel so destructive with all those spells, I love that it's fast paced and more colorful. I got also really involved with some of the companions, specially Anders, Fenris and Aveline. I love that, even though they may disagree with you on some topics, they still remain by your side if you were a good friend, because that's what friendship's about. Friendship/rivalry here feels like a human thing, something quite relatable, instead of just shoving gifts onto your companion so they'd like you better. I like that somehow all of your companions are entangled with what happens in the city, and this leads me to my final point about why DA2 is still a good game.

Kirkwall. Our vedette. Our goddess. Kirkwall is the scenario for 90% of the events of the game. We're not saving the world here. We just want the peace for the city. Who should rule? Whose forces should Hawke support? Is Hawke good enough to be Viscount? Are the templars doing a good job? Or is Knight-Captain Meredith going too far?

Political intrigue. And just one city. Not all of Ferelden. Just one bad person trying to control the strings in this small portion of land, not an army of zombies or a dragon ready to consume the world. I love that the plot is just restrained to this small thing, because it lets you go deeper into everyone's stories, and it doesn't mean that it gets less epic, on the contrary. I enjoyed the final boss here way more than I did with Corpypheus in Inquisition. Here Meredith has an actual goal and she's acting upon what she thinks it's right, and at some point and to some extent, she's right! But her methods are questionable, in the least. She's not just a bad guy for the sake of being a bad guy, like it happens with Corypheus. She's bad, but she has her reasons.

You don't get to know a lot of people, because you just know those who live in Kirkwall. The familiarity, the warmth of its streets, it's like you've been living there as well, sharing with these characters and learning about their pasts. Instead of allowing you to see a huge picture with hundreds of characters involved, you just focus on those you care about, explore them more in depth. Sometimes covering everything doesn't lead you anywhere, so it might be better with just a handful of well written plot points and characters.

I'm not saying that Origins is the worst because of this, because it seems like I'm hating on it. In fact, I can't still speak much of it because I haven't finished my route yet (although I know how it ends). I'm just saying that Origins is good, that Inquisition is good, and that DA2 is also good. It's different, but still a good game. Sometimes you're tired of playing as the chosen one hero who must save the world, and maybe saving one city is enough for your heroic career.

I loved the game. I loved that it pushed my beliefs of helping the mages to the limit, to the point of questioning myself. I loved that it played tricks on me like that with the romance option. I loved the sarcastic Hawke, such a well written script. Also, Cullen is here so of course I'd love it.

Just… don't hate it that much. And if you still haven't played it, give it a shot. You might be surprised.

#dragon age #dragon age 2 #dragon age origins #dragon age inquisition #da2 #dai #dao #bioware #hawke #anders #varric #fenris #videogame #videogame review #review #gamer #ea games

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sohannabarberaesque · 6 years ago

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We now return you to Catalina Island for more of the Hanna-Barbera Character Convocation coincident with the Avalon Harbour Underwater Cleanup ...

Saturday morning: What more of a brilliant and blessed sunrise could you ask for, especially considering that The Magic Isle doesn't have the hazy smog of the mainland ... but let's begin this day before sunrise, just before sunrise even, which Avalonians and visitors alike can actually watch over the Pacific. Beginning with quite the buffet-style breakfast for all involved (and believe you me, the Cahuenga Pass Funtastic Divers could use plenty of nourishment heading into the dive this morning), featuring omlettes to order, malted waffle station, scrambled eggs, bacon, SPAM, hash browns--and, for good measure, the Cattanooga Cats' Famous Grits Bar, with plenty of stir-ins and toppers galore such as ham bits, red eye gravy, shredded cheese, butter, salt-free seasoning even ... and for many, the novelty of grits in classic Southern style is attraction enough. Not to mention straight coffee, coffee with chicory, breakfast blend tea (from the Gatlinburg coffee roastery of said Cattanooga Cats, mind you)....

At any rate, Oh So Chuckleberry "himself" issued some final reminders to the diver participants to get in a last-minute air tank refill and/or equipment check at the dive shop on the Green Pleasure Pier, and that the 9 o'clock safety briefing for divers IS MANDATORY AND BINDING.

One highlight of the buffet was doubtless when Yogi Bear put in a call to Snagglepuss on the latter's mobile from Jellystone, adding that the hibernation was getting wound down for the most part and extending the best wishes and salutations of the occasion ("I can't believe that some of my friends are in such a magic isle as Catalina is, and for a good cause, to boot!"--Yogi Bear) ... and Loopy DeLoop was calling from a remote part of his hobby sugarbush in Quebec's Estrie region, checking the hosing feeding the sugaring house from the bush itself and adding another couple of sugar maples to the network (as it were) and adding that the maple sap run was a bit on the slow side at the moment, but with milder weather expected, things were bound to improve in time for the annual production of his artisanal soft maple sugar loaves.

Saturday morning again, just before 9: With registrations checked out, the Cahuenga Pass Funtastic Divers head out to the beach for the safety briefing. Even the likes of Captain Caveman, who, as luck would have it, would be something of an unlikely mascot to the divers by virtue of his freediving approach (and his handlers, the Teen Angels, producing some GoPro footage of the whole). At any rate, the area being covered is the area of Avalon Bay between Casino Point and the Green Pleasure Pier and out 50 feet from shore, with a maximum depth for all divers of 50 feet.

9:30 ... the air horn sounds as signals all participants into the water. Mouthpieces fitted in ... regulators checked ... air lines working ... and just breaking free of the shallows, the diving begins in serious earnest for good. As in combing through the sand bottom of Avalon Harbour, making certain they don't get caught in the wrong sort of places (e.g., anchorage points or even the underwater telephone cable from the mainland) in their search for the garbage left in the past year by boaters as dropped anchor in Avalon Bay. Garbage--and then some: Mobile phones, tablet PC's, wallets, bottles of liquor with stuff still in them (instructions being not to open the bottles underwater, just put them in the garbage bag), clothing haplessly thrown overboard--I assume you get the idea of what to expect. Admittedly, the pickings the divers can expect tend to vary from year to year, depending on the storms, tides and weather generally.

Meanwhile, on shore, the Non-Diving Participants (Snagglepuss and Huck among them) engage in much conversation over coffee and rolls, particularly among spectators and fellow Funtastics. As well as imagining what sort of debris booty will be reclaimed from Avalon Bay's bottom by 11 o'clock, when divers will be asked to exit the water and dump their hauls on the Wrigley Plaza Stage to reveal all. Not to mention Mildew Wolf and Snagglepuss using the occasion to recall the "good old days" back hosting Laff-a-Lympics and imagining some of the potential therefrom creeping into the Convocations' spirit, especially at Steamboat Springs' Winter Carnival.

11 o'clock: The last of the divers are leaving Avalon Bay ... and of all the finds to be had from Avalon Bay's depths nearshore, Peter Potamus and Lippy the Lion are hauling to shore the denuded remains of a bedframe's springs, with slight signs of sea water corrosion. (Which had even fellow divers wondering how exactly the bedframe got tossed into Avalon Bay, to begin with. Or, for that matter, who tossed same into the water.) At any rate, other finds of the Cahuenga Pass Funtastic Divers during the cleanup were:

Bottles of whisky (notably Tennessee and Canadian such), slibovitz (a Slovenian plum brandy), sloe gin, sake and brandy, still in their bottles

Alligator-skin handbag of the tackiest sort, and with much in the way of papers still inside

Gold coins, notably several Kruggerands tossed overboard in the salad days of apartheid's depravities as a show of protest; two half-ounce Mexican Centenarios and an American Eagle were also uncovered

Gift cards as probably had much of their value used up, to begin with

RFID-blocker wallets (still having credit and debit cards intact, and a few with cash)

Transistor shortwave radios, one a Zenith Trans-Oceanic of Jonny Quest vintage

An unopened package of AA batteries as looked rather cheap

But it was the bedframe that took the proverbial laurels for Largest Haul, prompting Peter Potamus to remark that it was just crazy to picture an old bed frame in the harbour, and wonder how best to haul same up, signalling for the closest diver (Lippy the Lion, it turned out) to help surface the same. And during the presentation, Square Bear could be overheard remarking what it would have been like to have found a treasure chest of the Yogi's Treasure Hunt sort during the cleanup.

But at any rate, the Cahuenga Pass Funtastic Divers were especially recognised for not so much their attendance as for "adding some colour and variety to the proceedings", with the organisers, Snagglepuss and Huckleberry Hound, receiving Citations of Recognition. Asked for remarks, Huckleberry Hound saith--

I have to admit that, for the last couple of years, we've been finding a few interesting events around the country by which we could have, you know, these little ol' gatherings of fellow characters ... hoping as much for sharing old friendships and stoking renewed interest in our kind from newer generations who probably may not otherwise be acquainted with our sort. And the response we've seen--in Truth or Consequences, Minneapolis, Steamboat Springs, Wisconsin Dells and now here on Catalina--just makes this little ol' hound dog feel somewhat warm inside.

Which was enough to seriously bring out the applause from locals and visitors gathered. And plenty of interesting variety for the early-evening TV news bulletins from back on “the mainland.”

#fanfic friday #hanna barbera #convocation #avalon harbor cleanup #underwater cleanup #huckleberry hound #snagglepuss #breakfast buffet #debriefing #unlikely garbage hauls #catalina island #bedframe

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newstfionline · 3 years ago

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Saturday, July 24, 2021

Virus’s impact (AP) The eruption of COVID-19 last year caused the proportion of people working from home in the U.S. to nearly double. The share of employed people working from home shot up from just 22% in 2019 to 42% in 2020, the Labor Department said Thursday. That was among the striking findings of an annual government survey that documents the far-reaching impact the viral pandemic has had on Americans’ everyday lives since it struck in March of last year. Because of the pandemic and the widespread social distancing it required, people on average spent more time last year sleeping, watching TV, playing games, using a computer and relaxing and thinking—and less time socializing and communicating in person—than in 2019. Adults also spent more hours, on average, caring for children in their household. The survey also lends support to concerns that the pandemic worsened isolation for millions of Americans. With people working from home or attending school online, the time they spent alone increased. Among Americans ages 15 and over, time spent alone each day increased by an average of an hour. For those ages 15 to 19, it rose 1.7 hours per day.

Medical debt (NYT) A new study put the amount of unpaid medical bills held by collection agencies at $140 billion last year, up from $81 billion according to a similar analysis carried out in 2016. The analysis looked at 10 percent of all TransUnion credit reports and found that about 18 percent of Americans have medical debt that has been sent to collections. Over the period from 2009 to 2020, the largest source of debt owed to collection agencies became medical debt. The $140 billion, to be clear, is not an estimate of medical debt; that figure is far higher, as the $140 billion is merely the debt that has been passed along to the vultures.

Crews make progress on huge Oregon blaze (AP) The nation’s largest wildfire raged through southern Oregon on Friday but crews were scaling back some night operations as hard work and weaker winds helped reduce the spread of flames even as wildfires continued to threaten homes in neighboring California. The Bootleg Fire, which has destroyed an area half the size of Rhode Island, was 40% surrounded after burning some 70 homes, mainly cabins, fire officials said. The fire, which was sparked by lightning, had been expanding by up to 4 miles (6 kilometers) a day, pushed by strong winds and critically dry weather.

Thousands of bullets have been fired in this D.C. neighborhood (Washington Post) Markeith Muskelly, a barber who has spent half his 52 years cutting hair in Southeast Washington, has seen people get shot on the street outside the shop where he works. Last fall, he saw a man die there. The shop is tucked into a corner of the Benco Shopping Center, a mainstay in the Marshall Heights neighborhood for six decades. Its plate-glass window has long offered a view of one of the most dangerous streets in the District. In the neighborhood where Muskelly works, gun violence has affected generations, bringing a sad realization that, for some, that the danger may never end. A Washington Post analysis shows that in a recent period of a little more than three years, crime scene technicians found 2,759 bullet casings—byproducts of shootings involving rifles, pistols and shotguns—in about a one-square-mile area that includes Benning Road in Marshall Heights, with Benco between them. Bullets have struck people, pockmarked parked cars, embedded in walls of homes and shattered windows of businesses filled with patrons. Patrol officers carry “quick clot gauze” used by troops in war.

Volunteers hunting for Mexico’s ‘disappeared’ become targets (AP) The mainly female volunteers who fan out across Mexico to hunt for the bodies of murdered relatives are themselves increasingly being killed, putting to the test the government’s promise to help them in their quest for a final shred of justice: a chance to mourn. Those who carry on the effort tell tales of long getting threats and being watched—presumably by the same people who murdered their sons, brothers and husbands. But now threats have given way to bullets in the heads of searchers who have proved far better than the authorities at ferreting out the clandestine burial and burning pits that number in the thousands. Two searchers have been slain the past two months. Fear has always accompanied the searchers. They go to wild, remote, abandoned places where terrible crimes have been committed. But up to now, they mostly shrugged it off.

Cuba’s communist authorities have long feared change. Street protests show the risk of resisting it. (Washington Post) On a farm not far from the town where Cuba’s protests first erupted this month, police investigators last summer carried out a major sting operation. Their target was not a dissident activist, but a dairyman nicknamed El Rey del Queso: The King of Cheese. His offense? Operating a clandestine factory that produced tire-sized hunks of cheese for private sale in Havana. Authorities arrested the King, confiscated hundreds of pounds of yellow queso and produced a news report about the bust on Cuban state television depicting him as a villain. Cuba’s communist authorities have for decades treated private entrepreneurs as a threat to be contained, not encouraged. Long after China and Vietnam embraced market reforms, using material prosperity to buttress authoritarian rule, Cuba has clung to an economic model based on centralized planning and state control. The July 11 protests that shook Cuba’s rulers showed that model might be their biggest vulnerability, as its weak foundation is further eroded by the decades-long U.S. embargo, additional Trump-era sanctions and now the coronavirus pandemic. The country’s economy contracted 11 percent last year, according to government data. Cubans are spending hours in lines to buy basic goods they can barely afford. Hospitals have been overwhelmed by covid patients, and medicine is scarce. Power outages are turning stifling summer heat into an explosive fuse. “Unless the government makes profound changes, I think people will take to the streets again,” said Camilo Condis, a Cuban entrepreneur and business advocate.

Haiti leader’s slaying exposes role of ex-Colombian soldiers (AP) As the coronavirus pandemic squeezed Colombia, the Romero family was in need of money to pay the mortgage. Mauricio Romero Medina’s $790 a month pension as a retired soldier wasn’t going far. Then came a call offering a solution. When Romero answered the phone on June 2, another veteran, Duberney Capador, offered what he said was a legal, long-term job requiring only a passport. But Romero had to make a decision fast. “Talk about it with your family and if you are interested, see you tomorrow in Bogota, because the flight is the day after tomorrow,” Romero’s wife, Giovanna, told The Associated Press, recalling the conversation. A month later, Romero and Capador were dead and 18 Colombians were reportedly in custody, accused of taking part in the assassination of Haitian President Jovenel Moïse. It’s a case that dramatizes Colombia’s role as a recruiting ground for the global security industry—and its murkier, mercenary corners. Colombia’s Defense Ministry says about 10,600 soldiers retire each year, many highly trained warriors forged in a decades-long battle against leftist rebels and drug trafficking cartels. Many—including a number of those involved in Haiti—have been trained by the U.S. military. Those soldiers make up a pool of recruits for companies seeking a wide range of services—as consultants or bodyguards, in teams guarding Middle Eastern oil pipelines or as part of military-like private security in places like the United Arab Emirates and Afghanistan. The UAE paid Colombian veterans to join in the battle against Iranian-backed Houthi rebels in Yemen.

Italy makes health pass mandatory for many leisure activities, in bid to pressure the unvaccinated (Washington Post) Italy on Thursday significantly ramped up pressure on its unvaccinated population, announcing that a digital or printed health pass would be necessary for accessing a range of everyday leisure activities, from theaters to indoor dining. The decision puts Italy in a rare category along with France among Western nations that have been willing to leverage certain freedoms and equalities now that vaccines have become widely available. Italy is essentially betting that it can revive its slowing vaccination campaign—and avoid future, onerous restrictions—by creating heavy incentives for inoculation, in the kind of step that would be politically unthinkable in the United States. Italy is looking for ways to avoid a new round of closures and curfews. For now, every Italian region is “white”—meaning that life proceeds almost as normal, and people can stay out as late as they want. That has made for a joyful Italian summer.

‘Messy’ fight (Washington Post) KUNDUZ, Afghanistan—Around 3 a.m., a small team of elite special forces were halfway through an operation to retake a sliver of territory along the city’s northern edge when a police unit assisting them refused to advance. Hours later, the police fled, ceding the territory back to the Taliban. For weeks, the Afghan military has struggled to hold provincial capitals such as Kunduz after a surge of Taliban attacks that came as U.S. forces withdrew and U.S. air support dropped. Afghan ground forces are increasingly used to fill the void. Their capabilities are uneven, however, resulting in government advances that often rapidly evaporate. Experienced and motivated elite units are leading the battle to retake territory. But the troops called up to secure those gains—army, police and irregular fighters—often have little training and are less inclined to fight. First Lt. Abdullah Ansari, 30, led the elite unit retaking territory house by house in Kunduz earlier this month. He said the debacle on Kunduz’s northern edge made him miss working with U.S. troops. “Now everything is just messy,” he said.

Death rates soar in Southeast Asia as virus wave spreads (AP) Indonesia has converted nearly its entire oxygen production to medical use just to meet the demand from COVID-19 patients struggling to breathe. Overflowing hospitals in Malaysia had to resort to treating patients on the floor. And in Myanmar’s largest city, graveyard workers have been laboring day and night to keep up with the grim demand for new cremations and burials. Images of bodies burning in open-air pyres during the peak of the pandemic in India horrified the world in May, but in the last two weeks the three Southeast Asian nations have now all surpassed India’s peak per capita death rate as a new coronavirus wave, fueled by the virulent delta variant, tightens its grip on the region. The deaths have followed record numbers of new cases being reported in countries across the region which have left health care systems struggling to cope and governments scrambling to implement new restrictions to try to slow the spread.

Typhoon to bring heavy rains to Taiwan, China over weekend (AP) A typhoon is forecast to bring heavy rains to Taiwan and coastal China over the weekend, days after the worst flooding on record in a central Chinese province caused at least 51 deaths. Forecasters say Typhoon In-fa is moving toward China and expected to make landfall in Zhejiang province either Sunday afternoon or early Monday morning. Zhejiang’s bureau of emergency management said on its microblog Friday that it is raising its risk warning to the second-highest level and calling on all localities to take preventative measures. Those usually include recalling fishing boats to port and relocating people living in vulnerable coastal communities. Fujian province to the south has issued similar orders. On its current track, the eye of the typhoon is expected to pass north of Taiwan while still bringing considerable rain to the island.

#headlines #news

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loving-jack-kelly · 7 years ago

Text

Fire and Light

Crutchie Morris had always been a scrappy little kid. When he was seven years old, he had run away after one too many close calls he knew were his fault, and he’d managed to survive for almost three years before being taken in by the people at Camp Half-Blood. He’d taken care of his own prosthetic, even managed to adjust it’s size when he grew, he’d learned to fight the things that seemed unkillable, and he’d refused to die even when it would have been easier to do so.

When he’d gotten to camp, people had underestimated him, assumed that because he was small and only had one leg he was weak or incapable, and he’d hated it so much he’d started working on his leg even more, until finally he took off his old prosthetic leg and put on his celestial bronze magic one that he’d designed and built himself, and by the time he was twelve he wasn’t scared to let people know that he could and would fight just as well as any of them.

But he was still a twelve-year-old kid, out on his first quest, and that was terrifying, especially while a manticore was steadily advancing, he had a shaking twelve-year-old demigod who’d never been told he was a demigod hiding behind him, and the satyr he’d been fighting with before was already incapacitated and on the ground behind him as well.

“Gods now would be a lovely time to like zap him like fast.” He muttered, flinging his crutch up wildly to deflect another spike as it aimed for his shoulder. When no lightning strike immediately took out the manticore, he bent his knees and got ready to fight.

The manticore, while fast, wasn't as coordinated as it wanted Crutchie to believe. It tripped over its front paws every step, but managed to turn every trip into more of a jump, so it wasn’t obvious right away. Crutchie, though, was familiar with the tactic, and knew that all it would take to fully trip it would be something to mess up its landing, either by hurting its back paw or by making the stumble bigger than normal. Crutchie crouched lower, bending his bronze ankle in the pattern to release the foot into his hand, the specially weighted blades extending quietly.

“Wha...what are you doing?” The boy behind him whispered, almost unable to speak. Crutchie ignored him for the moment, narrowing his eyes and letting his fighting instincts take over, pulling the blade of his crutch in as he threw the boomeranged foot so that it momentarily pinned the manticore’s foot to the ground, just long enough for it to trip all the way. Using his crutch, he pushed himself forward, extending the blade on his bronze calf so he could kick at the manticore before it fully recovered from its fall. As he landed, barely avoiding another spike, he kicked at the boomerang, latching his foot back into place and finishing the extension of his leg so that he had a full-length sword extending from his hip.

It had taken a good few months, several trips to the Big House infirmary, and a mandatory dull blade until he proved he wouldn’t be cutting off his real leg until he’d been able to fight using his leg as his sword, but at this point it was almost second nature. He breathed out steadily, launching himself up as high as he could and holding his breath, partly out of nervousness and partly because he knew his hit was going to land and he didn’t want to breathe in the dust storm killing something as big as a manticore would generate. He pointed pulled his real leg up to his chest and let his weight drive the tip of his bronze leg into the back of the manticore, closing his eyes against the dust as it kicked up into his face. He landed in a roll, kicking his leg back into normal shape and standing up quickly.

The other boy was still hunched over, visibly shaking, and the satyr, Ace, was stirring but not awake.

“What...what’s happening?” Crutchie slipped his crutch into its place on his back, and offered a hand to the boy.

“Manticore. There’s probably something more coming, we need to move. Ace, Ace, c’mon dude, we have to go.” Ace’s eyes opened fully, but they were crossed and unfocused.

“Help me help him up. We need to get farther from here, as fast as possible.”

“I...I don’t understand.”

“Just hurry, we’ll explain later.”

It took a few hours to walk far enough away that Crutchie felt safe, and as they walked Ace recovered little by little until he was walking in a straight line on his own. They had set up camp as best they could a few miles away from where they started, Ace had started a small fire, and the boy was hugging his knees to his chest, rocking back and forth anxiously.

“Please, explain something?” He was still whispering, but almost begging more than asking.

“It isn’t safe here. We should make it to camp tomorrow, but until then you just have to trust us.”

“I don’t even know who you are, how am I supposed to trust you?” Crutchie was chewing on some weird vegan jerky Ace had supplied, and he supposed, judging by the way the boy’s eyes widened, that his attempt at a reassuring smile hadn't been very helpful.

“I’m Crutchie. This is Ace.”

“He has really hairy legs.” Ace nodded seriously.

“What’s your name?”

“Jack.”

“How old are you?”

“Twelve.” Crutchie nodded, studying Jack’s face. He didn’t have any features that stuck out as belonging to one godly parent or another. Not the gray eyes of Athena, the upturned eyebrows of Hermes, the blunt facial features that could be either Ares or Hephaestus. He had that same sort of aura that all demigods had, that feeling of power that radiated from him even as he was curled in on himself. Ace hadn’t been wrong about finding a demigod boy, that was obvious, and it was also obvious that the boy was powerful. Manticores were rare enough that it took a powerful scent to draw them out. Jack was staring at Crutchie at the same time Crutchie was staring at him, and Crutchie could see the gears turning, and tried to put himself in Jack’s place.

Clearly a runaway, wearing loose, on the edge of being ragged clothes, he had been carrying a crowbar when Ace had called camp to get Crutchie to help, but it had been lost somewhere along the way, scared, all of those things Crutchie had been at one point. But something about this boy was different.

Crutchie had known when he was little that the reason the scary things had kept happening to his family had been something to do with him, that he had attracted scary men and animals that shouldn’t have existed, but Jack seemed more like he thought it was because of him, in an entirely different way. Almost as if he thought he had been attacked because of who he was, not what he was.

“Do you have family?” Ace asked.

“No.” Jack replied, looking down at the ground.

“You ran away.” Crutchie confirmed his thoughts.

“A while ago.”

“How long?”

“A few years.” Jack had stopped rocking anxiously, but he still had his knees pulled tightly up to his chest.

“On your own?” Crutchie was impressed. He’d survived three years, but he wasn’t powerful enough to attract monsters as large as the ones Jack had survived.

“I’ve managed.”

“Clearly. How did you kill monsters?”

“I never killed nobody. My crowbar worked just fine to beat the assholes away.” Jack didn’t make eye contact. “Sides, you killed that...that thing.”

“Manticore. It’s...well, we can explain later.”

“Why can’t you just explain now? I want to know! What is happening!” A dam seemed to break inside Jack and he yelled the questions, making eye contact with Crutchie. Crutchie finally swallowed his mouthful of jerky and shook his head.

“We’re not safe here. We’ll get someplace safe tomorrow, and then everything will make sense, I promise.” Ace had already curled up next to the fire and was snoring loudly, and Crutchie tilted his head towards him. “Get some sleep, it’s a long walk to where we get picked up.” Crutchie laid down himself and closed his eye, listening carefully until he could tell Jack was asleep and not going anywhere.

It ended up taking them all of the next day and part of the next to get back to Camp Half-Blood, and by the end of the trip, Crutchie had a few guesses as to who Jack’s parent was. When they talked, Jack had admitted he didn’t know anything about his biological family, that he’d been in foster care since he was super little and didn’t remember his biological family, that he’d been passed from home to home for a long time and had run away when he was nine. He hadn’t said why, but the look he’d gotten in his eyes told Crutchie that there had been a reason, a good one. He also seemed to flirt, completely unconsciously, with everyone. With Crutchie, which was ridiculous, and Ace, which was more ridiculous, and eventually with Argus, which was the most ridiculous. When they got to camp, he blushed and stuttered all over the place when they were greeted by Lisa, head of Athena, and that seemed to rule out Aphrodite, or it would have, had Crutchie not known Romeo, who was a child of Aphrodite and the worst flirter Crutchie had ever met. But over the next few days, Jack wasn’t claimed by Aphrodite, and while he was still adjusting to the fact that hey, the Greek gods are real and one of them is your parent!, he was starting to fit in. He didn’t seem to be great at anything, but he was decent at a lot of things, and that right away seemed to point to Hermes.

By the time Jack had been there a week and a half, there was an almost camp-wide betting pool going as to where he’d fit in, thanks to some saucy Hermes boys.

Crutchie hadn’t been allowed to cast his vote, since it was only open to people fourteen and over and even though Crutchie had just as much if not more experience fighting monsters than most of the older boys, they still didn’t let the younger kids in on most of their schemes. Last he’d heard, though, the pool was pretty evenly split between Hermes and Aphrodite, and more and more people were joining in as time went on.

Crutchie showed Jack around, but since he was always with Hephaestus cabin and Jack would be with the Hermes cabin at least until he was claimed.

I’m pretty sure he’s Apollo. Specs signed while waiting for the next section of their newest sword to finish cooling before they moved to finishing the tip. Something about him just says sun god.

Really? I get more Aphrodite. He flirts with everyone.

Have you met Apollo?

Twice.

And you’re telling me Apollo doesn’t flirt just as much as Apollo?

Fair point.

Trust me, Crutch, I know an Apollo when I see one. They tapped their glasses, reminding Crutchie that the magical lenses let them see through the Mist.

The Mist doesn’t hide godly parents, vlaca.

No but these let me see clearly, and he’s an Apollo.

Guess we’ll find out soon.

Hopefully.

Specs hummed thoughtfully as they turned back to the sword.

Finch, one of the Apollo campers, agreed with Specs.

“He’s got the smile. Dad’s has this obnoxious, bright white, painful smile, and most of us have it too. A runaway has no right to have teeth as perfect as he does.” Finch smiled as if to prove his point, and Crutchie did have to admit that Jack shared the bright white, straight teeth.

In the end, Jack was at camp for almost a month when he was finally claimed. He was comfortable, mostly, by then. He had found his place in the Hermes cabin, he was a decent archer and an okay sword fighter, and he showed off in art. Jack of all trades, master of none, every time somebody said that Jack laughed.

Ultimately, though, the symbol that appeared over Jack’s head wasn’t the caduceus of Hermes or Aphrodite’s Blessing. Both Specs and Finch triumphantly looked at Crutchie when a glowing golden lyre suddenly appeared over Jack’s head, leaving him looking confused.

“So, what, my godly parent is the god of...the letter U?”

“Apollo, God of the sun, archery, music, leader of the Muses, etc, etc, don’t look at me like that Chiron that’s how he introduces himself, and you know it.” Finch grinned brightly as he spoke. The Apollo cabin all moved over to make room for Jack, and once he was sitting with them, Crutchie could immediately see what Finch had seen.

Demigods came in all shapes, sizes, races, genders, sexualities, but they all had a certain family resemblance. High cheekbones, often but not always, and the noble grace Crutchie had been able to pick out around Jack when he’d first met him. Beyond that, most cabins resembled each other.

Aphrodite kids, even ones that weren't obscenely attractive, had this look of just knowing they’d be able to make anyone they wanted to fall in love with them.

Hephaestus kids looked entirely uncomfortable wearing much other than work clothes, and most of them had the same muscular build, although that tended to develop at camp.

Hermes kids all had the permanently mischievous look, you knew you couldn’t trust them as soon as you saw them, at least around wallets.

And looking at the Apollo kids, Jack among them, Crutchie saw the same resemblance Finch had seen. The blindingly white smiles, and ridiculously straight teeth. They all, actually, flirted with everyone, if Crutchie thought about it. And once Jack was sitting with them, with his brand new bunch of siblings surrounding him, welcoming him, Crutchie could certainly see the resemblance.

“Hail Jack Kelly, son of Apollo.” Chiron said solemnly, once the Apollo campers had settled down a bit. Crutchie smiled at Jack from his seat just slightly above the Apollo campers, and Jack smiled back, already looking at home with his siblings.

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quicksilversquared · 7 years ago

Text

The Pun Book

Every time Adrien goes to renew his favorite book, The Big Book of Puns, someone else has requested it. Who could it possibly be? And why do the librarians keep trying to set the two of them up?

(FF.net) (AO3)

"'The Big Book of Puns? Yes, sir, it came in yesterday," the librarian told Adrien. "We just haven't put the books that came in then out on the shelf yet. Hold on one minute, and I'll go grab it for you."

"Thanks!" Adrien said happily. He grinned as he dug in his wallet for his library card. The Big Book of Puns (And Other Assorted Jokes) had been his favorite book from the day he found it. While he (in his own opinion, at least) had already been fairly good at puns, he couldn't deny that the book had helped him a ton with coming up with jokes on the fly and in the middle of battles. He had also gotten pulled into a pun competition of sorts with Ladybug recently, which only spurred him on in his quest to stay the Pun Master of their dynamic duo.

Thus, the Book.

"You've checked this one out a million times," Plagg whined after Adrien had checked the book out and started heading to the door with his favorite book under his arm and a spring in his step. "Why do you need to check it out again?"

"I can't read it all at once, Plagg, not with my university classes and akuma fights to take care of," Adrien said with a sigh as he headed down the sidewalk towards the car where the Gorilla waited. "So I read it in chunks, write the best bits down, and then go practice those out while that other person has my book."

Plagg sniggered from inside Adrien's jacket. "I still can't believe that someone is requesting that book as often as you. Nerds, the both of you. Maybe you're soulmates."

Adrien rolled his eyes at that. The librarians had told him a month before that the reason he could never renew his loan on the pun book was because someone else kept requesting it. The book had been bouncing back and forth between the two of them for nearly two months now, a fact that seemed to be amusing the librarians greatly. Adrien was somewhat curious about this other pun-loving person, but he didn't care enough to go to their library (yes, he knew which one it was- not just one, but two of the librarians had told him "accidentally" in passing, which he was fairly certain was not entirely legal) and sit around waiting to meet them when they picked up their book.

If he lived in a rom-com, that would surely be what he would do. He would return the book and then head over to their library the next day to anxiously sit on the bench in the front of the check-out desk, fiddling with a bouquet of roses until a girl his own age came down and picked up The Big Book of Puns from the holds shelf. The librarians would introduce them when she checked the book out, they would stammer a bit, and then they would go out dating, get married, and live happily ever after, punning the whole way. That was what the librarians seemed to think would happen. Adrien thought that they watched too many romantic movies.

For one, they probably didn't even know who this other person was. Since The Big Book of Puns always got sent to another library in the area and there were different librarians working at each one, it meant that the librarians didn't know who they were. It could be a middle-aged dude. It could be an old grandmother or grandfather. It could be a kid. The other person could even be married already, for all Adrien (and the librarians) knew. Besides, Adrien was still completely and utterly in love with Ladybug. No number of potential "meet-cute" opportunities could ever change that.

Ever.

"Ugh, Chat Noir really was on his pun game tonight," Marinette grumbled as she headed down the stairs from her loft after returning from patrol. Tikki floated along after her, eager for her cookie. "Tikki, I'm gonna have to check out that book again."

Tikki giggled. "I thought you just swore the book off after Alya nearly found it? You said that just last week!"

"I changed my mind." She hadn't intended on getting into a pun (and joke) war with Chat Noir, but after an attempt to silence his puns buy out-punning him had (spectacularly) failed, her competitive nature just hadn't let her gracefully back down. She had found the best book at the library to help her catch up on her punning abilities, and yet it still hadn't gotten her up to Chat Noir's level. She had had to return the book a little early the last time after Alya had tripped over it and only a well-timed (for once) akuma attack had distracted her from asking what the giant book sitting next to Marinette's lounger was. If Alya had found the book...

Marinette didn't even want to think about it. The responses could have ranged from "puzzled" all the way to "still has not gotten over the Adrien crush and is trying to use puns in a new and impossibly lamer yet form of flirting".

(While it was true that Marinette was not over Adrien in any way, shape, or form, she wouldn't ever stoop to punning to try to get his attention. Doing that would probably just make Adrien think that she was weird beyond belief.)

Tikki giggled when Marinette didn't elaborate. "I don't think Chat Noir thinks of it as a competition, you know. He's probably just thrilled that you're punning along with him. He's gonna think that you're flirting back."

Marinette couldn't help but roll her eyes at that. Chat Noir knew her too well to think that she was actually flirting. And she wasn't so sure that her partner hadn't caught on to the competitive spirit as well. She could spot the same glint in his eyes during their punning battles that often showed up in her eyes whenever she played a particularly difficult video game or knew exactly how to take down an akuma.

No, Chat Noir was just into their competition as she was, and she wasn't going to give up now. She would just have to put in yet another request for the pun book from the library. The librarians would no doubt tease her again when she came in to pick up the book (again), but it couldn't be helped. She didn't have enough spare money on hand to go around buying pun books just so she could avoid a little ribbing from the local librarian.

"And the librarian is gonna try to set you and the other pun book person up again," Tikki added when Marinette didn't respond. She flitted along behind Marinette as her Chosen sat down in front of her computer and jiggled the mouse to wake it back up. "You know that, right? Are you gonna go see who it is this time?"

Marinette really rolled her eyes at that one. "No, I'm not. It's gonna be some old dude who's getting a kick out of playing a game of pass-the-book with someone else. The librarians don't even know who this other person is." She passed Tikki a cookie out of the stash she kept behind the computer before turning her attention back to the screen. "Even if it isn't some old guy, literally all the librarians know about us is that we're both interested in puns. That's not a basis for a relationship. That literally isn't even a good basis for a friendship."

"I think it could be," Tikki said as Marinette pulled up the library home page and logged in so she could request the book again. "It would be an interesting start to a conversation, at least. Asking why they've wanted the book so many times in a row."

"But then I would have to explain too, and what would I say? I've gotten into a punning war with my superhero partner? I'm sure that would really go over well." Request entered, Marinette returned to the design assignment that she had been working on. Her piece just needed one more element to really make it pop, but what exactly that was, she couldn't quite figure out. She had been staring at it before patrol, and now she would probably end up staring at it again for another hour before giving up for the night and doing another assignment.

"You could just say a friend. Chat Noir is your friend, after all." Tikki broke off a chunk of cookie, stuck it into her mouth and then spoke around the slightly too-large piece. "Just make up a name if you must if they ask."

"And then when they want to meet that friend because they both love puns and I'm just doing it for the competition? That's just spinning a web of lies that I don't want to get involved in."

"It could be interesting," Tikki tempted, swallowing her cookie piece with a loud gulp. "And I'm sure you could come up with some excuse. You've gotten better at thinking up excuses since when you first became Ladybug."

Marinette could only snort. She didn't even want to think back to that time, when she had spouted some absolutely cringeworthy excuses in order to sneak off to transform (or to try to excuse those absences). Looking back, she had to wonder how half of those excuses even flew. She certainly wouldn't have accepted most of them if she had been the one on the receiving end.

And yes, maybe she had gotten better at thinking up excuses, but that was mostly a side effect of having more things to do and having different classes than most of her friends. After all, it was very easy to tell people that she had to go work on a project for a class when they weren't in that class and therefore didn't know that the project in question didn't actually exist. It was easy to tell one person that she was meeting up with other friends when the person she was talking to didn't know the other friends well and wouldn't know that the friends in question were busy doing other things. When she was expected to attend classes but it wasn't mandatory (and when there were plenty of snobs who thought that they were too good to learn anything from class), it was easy to fly under the radar when she missed a class because of an akuma attack or came in late. If she missed an meeting with her family or friends, she could claim that she had gotten swept up in working on a design and lost track of time.

Getting older, in this case, meant that she had more believable excuses at her disposal. Still, she knew full well that that wouldn't be the case forever. Once she got into the more intensive classes, or once she had to get an internship, excuses wouldn't fly.

"I'm still not going to meet them," Marinette said decisively, finally setting the design aside to start to sketch something else, hoping that maybe a new design would help her pinpoint what was wrong with the old one. She wasn't going to waste any more time thinking about her mysterious book pal. It wasn't worth the time, especially when she had classes to worry about and projects to finish.

Two months later, the book had gone back and forth several more times. Every time when she returned it, Marinette swore that it would be the last time. And maybe she would have been right, had Chat Noir not been seemly anticipating all of her jokes.

Her only consolation was that, thanks to the book, she was managing to anticipate quite a few of Chat Noir's jokes as well. She got to toss in his punch lines before he did, just like he did to her. So really, there was no way that she could stop checking the book out, not unless she wanted to flat-out lose.

"You could check out other joke books," Tikki suggested. The kwami had gotten sucked into the competition somewhat against her will, and now she was helping Marinette practice her joke delivery so that there wouldn't be any awkward pauses.

Or course, the practice didn't help if Chat Noir knew every single joke under the sun. She could have the smoothest delivery in the history of humankind and it still wouldn't matter if Chat Noir already knew the joke.

"Maybe Chat Noir had that book at some point," Tikki continued when Marinette didn't respond. "So he knows those jokes. If you look up other books, maybe you'll find new jokes. And then you don't have to keep playing pass-the-parcel with this joke book."

"Except if Chat Noir had this book at some point, that makes it even more important to keep working my way through that book," Marinette argued. "So that I know his jokes. And if he improved his pun game with this book, then I need to do the same thing."

Over in the Agreste Mansion, Adrien was having much the same complaints.

"She's getting almost all of my jokes before I get to the punchline," Adrien grumbled, faceplanting in his sheets. His phone chimed, and he glanced at it to see that it was an email from the library, letting him know that the book would be due in four days. He grumbled, since he definitely hadn't gotten to look through the book as much as usual. A busy modeling schedule paired with several projects for his classes (and, of course, akuma attacks) had meant that he could only peruse the book while he was being driven around Paris.

Of course, that meant that Nathalie saw him. While she definitely supported his hobbies most of the time, Nathalie, well...

She didn't really do jokes. Or puns. Or funny stuff in general. She thought that it was a waste of time. His one condolence was that she hadn't told his father (yet), who definitely thought it was a waste of time and would probably pile on more activities to try to put an end to it.

"When did being funny turn into a competition?" Plagg grumbled. "And you really can't complain too much, you've been doing the same thing to Ladybug. Also, this is completely ridiculous. You two can't hold a simple conversation without punning your way through it, unless there's an akuma right there threatening to take your Miraculous."

"Competition is fun," Adrien said, only sounding moderately more cheerful. "Especially when it's with Ladybug. She's adorable when she gets frustrated over something silly like that."

It was his favorite part of this whole competition, actually. The little face that Ladybug made when he finished one of her jokes for her was a hilarious little pout (it was honestly strange how many of his jokes that Ladybug knew, and vice versa), and then the triumphant little wriggle she gave when she cut off one of his jokes or crammed more puns into a sentence than he did. He wouldn't have gotten as sucked into their little competition if it weren't for Ladybug's reactions. If he could get away with it, he would take videos of Ladybug and make a compilation of her little reactions.

If he tried, Ladybug would probably toss him off a roof. Either that, or she would stop punning.

That would definitely be worse.

Marinette grumbled as she hurried along the sidewalk. She couldn't believe that she had forgotten about her assignment until so late, and now she had to go and waste more of her precious time tracking a couple of the books down at the library instead of having them requested and waiting on a shelf for her. To make matters worse, the library that had the two books she really, really needed wasn't her regular one. It wasn't crazy far away, thankfully, just a quick fifteen-minute bus ride over and then a short walk from the bus stop, but it was fifteen minutes (thirty, counting both ways) that she really couldn't afford to waste, not when Hawkmoth might attack any minute and take up even more of her time.

(She and Chat Noir really had to finish off their battle with their nemesis this summer, no matter what. Marinette wasn't completely sure that she could handle her final years of university and crimefighting at the same time.)

"Would it really have saved any time to have things requested?" Tikki asked from Marinette's purse. She peered up at her Chosen. "And think of it this way- you're getting out for some fresh air! That's a good thing, right?"

"I get plenty of fresh air fighting akumas, thank you very much," Marinette said tartly as she trotted up the steps to the rather imposing library. "And when I go out on walks with Alya, and when I go to the park to draw, or when I go to gardens for inspiration. It's only when stuff is due that I don't go out much."

"I guess that's true," Tikki admitted. She peeked up at the library. "Hey, we've been here before! Remember, when you were helping Adrien with that research project of his that he forgot about?"

Marinette had not, in fact, remembered that. At Tikki's reminder, though, she recalled the one time that Adrien had somehow forgotten an assignment, just like she just had. He had had too much on his plate to deal with and it had simply slipped through the cracks. She, Alya, and Nino had all showed up to help Adrien with the research and they had met up at his local library, aka the one Marinette had just arrived at. It was larger than the library that was closest to Marinette's house- like, a lot larger- and confusing as anything.

She should have asked Adrien for help navigating around his library. He probably would have been more than willing.

Sighing (there was no point in asking now; Adrien was no doubt busy with photoshoots or something), Marinette entered the library and headed up the stairs. The site online had told her that she would have to begin her search on the third floor.

And a search it was. Marinette scoured her way through row after row without success for a good twenty minutes, stress level rising higher and higher every time she checked the time. She couldn't help but think about how she could have been using that time to be writing her paper, to be reading, to be making progress. But no, instead she was stuck poking through the shelves of dusty books.

At twenty-five minutes, she recruited a librarian to help her. Three minutes later, she had both books she wanted in hand and was heading back down the stairs to check them out. They were thicker than she had expected, so it would probably take forever to find the passages that she wanted.

Ugh. Another time-suck. At least her time with the pun book had finished yesterday, and she wasn't just letting it gather dust while she rushed to get her projects done. She had gotten lucky this time around, and she would be getting the book back just after her final projects all got in. Of course, then she would be juggling a million engagements with friends and a handful of commissions that had piled up over the last part of the semester. It wouldn't be too difficult to manage- it never was- but her schedule never quite entirely freed up anymore.

Honestly, that was probably a good thing. If she had nothing to do except practice puns and jokes all day, she would go a little crazy.

Marinette's thoughts didn't stay stuck on jokes for long. As she finished descending the staircase, her mind was already whirring with what she needed to get done for her project. She had a few online sources that she wanted to pull in, and then she had to polish up her outline. It was a relief to discover that she had at least gotten a tiny amount of work done, a sort of framework that would make her last-minute rushing go a little more smoothly. She would really have been in deep trouble if she hadn't already decided on her research topic, back when the project was first assigned.

She was so deep in thought that she only just barely missed running over a very familiar blond heading for the checkout counter.

"Adrien!" Marinette exclaimed, delighted. What were the chances of her running into her friend here, now, in the middle of the day? Surely he had somewhere to be. "I didn't expect to see you!"

Adrien, who had turned around the moment he heard his name, beamed over at Marinette. "Mari! I thought you used a different library!"

"Normally, yeah. But I needed some books for a project that I, ah, forgot about, and it's too late to request them and have them actually arrive on time." She waved the two thick books at him and then immediately yelped and scrambled to catch them as the books nearly escaped her grip. Adrien grinned and quickly put his own book down so he could help her steady the books before they could slide to the floor.

"Do you need any help finding stuff in the books?" Adrien asked as they straightened back up, books safely back in Marinette's arms. "I still owe you for your help that time when I forgot an assignment."

"If you have time to spare, sure," Marinette said, somewhat surprised. From what she had heard from Nino, Adrien didn't normally have any time to spare. He was busy (or, rather, was kept busy) with university courses, modeling, and the assorted other lessons and practices that his father insisted on. "But if you're busy, I can totally take care of it on my own."

"You're in luck," Adrien promised as he picked his book up again and led the way to the checkout counter. "I have a rare afternoon off- or at least I currently do. Hopefully Nathalie doesn't find out and try to wedge in an extra piano lesson or something."

"Does she really do that? That's awful!" Marinette exclaimed. "How soon do you get to escape her scheduling?"

Adrien winced. "...yeah, it's a little insane. She'll drop things out of the schedule if I explain that I had wanted to get together with you guys or need to study, but she and my father both believe in no free time so that I'm not screwing around 'rotting my brain with video games'." He rolled his eyes. "But as soon as I graduate and find a job, I'm done with her scheduling my life. I can do occasional photoshoots and runways, but that's it."

"You aren't quitting modelling?" Marinette had always been under the impression that while Adrien didn't particularly mind modeling, it wasn't something that he was particularly fond of, both because of the time drain it had on his free time and because the fangirl attention that he got from being a model had only (infuriatingly) increased over the years, to the point where particularly gutsy fans would even interrupt their friend get-togethers.

He just shrugged. "I'm not completely sure. On one hand, I'm kind of tired of it. On the other..." Adrien winced again, looking a bit guilty. "I'm good at it, and it pays well. I won't be model material forever, so I might as well take advantage of the opportunity while I have it, right?"

"Right, of course," Marinette agreed absently. Heaven knew that she would probably jump on the chance to make a bit more money, even if she would be doing something that she wasn't super fond of. Her eyes drifted down to the book Adrien was handing over to librarian, curious to see what he was reading. When she recognized the cover, her eyes went wide and she nearly dropped her stack of books again. "Wait. You're the other person who keeps checking out the pun book? Really?"

Adrien glanced over at her and then back at the book he still had in his hands. "...yes? I've been checking this book out for a couple months-"

Marinette could pinpoint the exact moment when Adrien realized the implications of what she had said. He positively froze and his eyes went big before his head swung around so he could stare at her. "Wait. The other person- that's you? I never would have thought that it would be you- I didn't know that you were into puns!" He remembered himself long enough to finish handing book and library card over to the librarian at the counter, who was watching them intently, before swinging back around to look at her. "How did I not know that? How long have you been into puns?"

"I...not long, really," Marinette admitted. She couldn't believe it. Her pun-book buddy was one of her best friends and they hadn't even known. Unbelievable. "I just somehow got pulled into a pun war with one of my other friends- from university, you know-" Adrien hadn't met all of her uni friends, so hopefully he wouldn't ask too many questions about who it was- "and I'm not great at punning, so when I found that book it was great."

Adrien looked even more surprised at that, and they both missed the librarian at the counter gesturing excitedly and pointing them out to several other librarians who were in the middle of sorting a pile of books. "A pun war? Me too! With a, uh, model friend. They've really stepped up their game recently and it's a bit of a struggle to keep up sometimes. Want to hang out and practice our puns together sometime so we can defeat our respective friends?"

Marinette only just refrained from groaning. More time punning and telling jokes? It wasn't that she didn't enjoy it, at least to some extent- she wouldn't have let herself get pulled into the pun war with Chat Noir if she didn't- but still. More conversations made entirely of puns and jokes.

On the other hand, Adrien wanted to spend time with just her, not with Alya and Nino as well. They had hung out by themselves before, of course- they had planned video game hangouts before, and had done homework together when their friends were busy, but they definitely tended to hang out together more in a group.

"Yeah, definitely!" was what Marinette said- or, rather, what she would have said had the librarians, having finally picked up on the fact that their ? couple already knew each other and weren't dating, burst out in dismay-

"Wait. You mean that we've been trying to set you guys up for ages and you already knew each other?!"

#Miraculous Ladybug #My writing #Adrien Agreste #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #I literally just spent forever trying to figure out the summary wtf me

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swimintothesound · 7 years ago

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Lil Pump Versus The Elderly: A Long and Storied History

Letter From the Editor: The writer of this piece would like to apologize in advance for the abject stupidity contained within the following wall of text. If you’re brave enough to subject yourself to the mania that’s about to unfold, then you have my admiration, gratitude, respect, and appreciation. Thank you for understanding, and may God have mercy on your soul.

Pumpology 101: The Mystifying Origins of Gazzy Garcia

Lil Pump is a dreadlocked 17-year old rapper from Florida who first began making waves in late 2016 when his song “D Rose” became an unexpected viral hit. Over the span of a few short months, the wrist-obsessed track had garnered millions of plays on Soundcloud and over one hundred million curious YouTube clicks. By the end of 2017, Lil Pump (whose real name is Gazzy Garcia) had established himself as a mainstream success when his song “Gucci Gang” peaked at #3 on the Billboard charts. Spawning from his self-titled debut, the alliterative hit quickly became the focal point of a heated debate on the declining state of rap music rap music, the ongoing idocratization of popular culture, and the bare minimum required to pass for lyricism in the year of our Lord 2017.

Expertly covered by both Rolling Stone and The New York Times, Mr. Pump has become a figure at the forefront of the budding “Soundcloud Rap” movement. This subgenre is a spin-off of Trap that’s focused on crafting a particular brand of blown-out, vapid, and repetitive hip-hop that, while lyrically substanceless, still manages to be catchy, memorable, and (most importantly) energetic. It’s hype-up music that’s been distilled so many times that words practically don’t matter.

I’ve already discussed my conflicted feelings on the genre back in August, and while some members of this scene are still objectively-horrific human beings, I’m willing to admit that I’ve come around to Lil Pump thanks to the catchiness of the aforementioned “Gucci Gang.” While the man himself should never be looked up to as an idol, Garcia is still making exciting creations within a field that I’m morbidly fascinated by.

The Lyrics (or Lack Thereof)

Like most rappers, Pump’s songs typically center around the same award-winning trifecta of drugs, money, and women. What makes “Gucci Gang” unique is the fact that it ticks all these boxes while also managing to be accessible to a mainstream audience. Soundcloud Rap’s previous biggest success came in the form of “Look At Me!,” a song whose lyrics are probably just a touch too edgy for mainstream audiences.

Meanwhile “Gucci Gang” has just the right mix of garish colors and catchy lyrics, both of which are accompanied by a distinct feeling of “newness” that helped it stand out from the crowd. Additionally, the song’s bouncy three-syllable chorus proved perfectly memeable, ripe for parody, and endlessly reworkable, all of which led to a song that hit, and lingered in the cultural consciousness for longer than anyone ever expected. Possibly even a reflection of our society at large, “Gucci Gang” is an undeniable success no matter how you cut it.

Outside of the song itself, Lilliam Pumpernickel has also gained fans through numerous extra-musical antics including second-floor balcony jumps, a love for iCarly’s Miranda Cosgrove, and a running joke that he’s a Harvard Graduate. Essentially, he’s not afraid to be a meme, and that lack of fear makes him even stronger. Complete with his own catchphrase, there are many reasons to be entertained by Lil Pump, and all of these elements combined help explain his meteoric rise to success.

The Emergence of an Astronomical Happening

Though my numerous listens to “Gucci Gang,” I began to approach the song the same way that many others did: first with curiosity, then ironic enjoyment, then genuine adoration. I can’t stress enough that the lyrics are nothing to write home about, however one stanza in particular stands out amongst the rest like a bright, shining star:

My lean cost more than your rent, ooh (it do)

Your momma still live in a tent, yuh (brr)

Still slangin' dope in the 'jects, huh? (yeah)

Me and my grandma take meds, ooh (huh?)

These bars initially seemed like a single metaphysical barb amongst a sea of relatively-straightforward brags and boasts, so I explained them away as a one-off lyric with no deeper significance. Unbeknownst to me at the time, this line was just the tip of the iceberg.

By the time December had rolled around, “Gucci Gang” had won the honor(?) of being recognized not once, but twice in Swim Into The Sound’s 2017 Un-Awards. While part of a largely-negative post, I shined a relatively-positive light on “Gucci Gang” as my second-biggest “WTF” moment of the year (second only to Bhad Bhabie) in which I found myself surprisingly endeared to both equally-trashy artists. Later on in the proceedings, I cited the lyrics above specifically as the single “Weirdest Flex” of 2017 (barely edging out a Drake lyric about napping).

In researching the Pump-penned lines for that write-up I found myself jumping between various Genius pages and in doing so, I quickly began to uncover a conspiracy deep as the Carly Rae Jepsen Cinematic Universe: Lil Pump has an unshakable fixation with the elderly.

The Quest For A Universal Truth

It’s no secret that artists tend to use the same concepts, thoughts, and ideas over and over again throughout their work. Usually in hip-hop, these recurring topics (like drugs, money, and women for instance) are framed by using twists on conventional language that are given new meanings within the scene’s culture. From “bricks” to “bands” to “bitches” every possible theme has dozens of different synonyms that can be switched out interchangeably to keep the rhyme fresh and the topic from going stale.

However, slang goes in and out of popular vernacular like the tides of the ocean, and Monsieur Pump is not above these familiar tropes. While drugs, money, and women remain the primary topics around which Pump waves his tales, he, on more than one occasion, has used his grandma, or the grandmother of the listener as a reference point for these interests.

Of course he likes lean, and naturally, he talks about it, but what makes Pump unique is his ability to relate that commonplace idea to the elderly in a hilarious and unexpected way. He’s using age as a barometer by which to measure his own life; the elderly representing an extreme through which he can cover these well-trodden topics.

It’s quite the signature flair for a 17-year-old to brandish, but perhaps through these lines he’s revealing his own obsession with death and mortality. Maybe these grandparent-based lyrics are allowing us a brief peek into the inner machinations of Lil Pump’s mind and we are learning what troubles him on a deep, cosmic, existential level. The philosophical reaper that keeps him up at night. These lines act as an illumination of the human experience as told through the grounded eyes of one man who yells “ESKETIT” like it’s his Pokemon name. What follows is a comprehensive list of every time Little Pump has rapped about senior citizens. You are welcome.

Exhibit #1 - “Gucci Gang”

My lean cost more than your rent, ooh (it do)

Your momma still live in a tent, yuh (brr)

Still slangin' dope in the 'jects, huh? (yeah)

Me and my grandma take meds, ooh (huh?)

For the sake of completeness, we’ll begin with lyrics that started it all. The quote above comprises exactly 25% of the sole verse found on Lil Pump’s breakout hit “Gucci Gang.” In it we find Pump surveying his surroundings, living situation, and pattern of systematic drug use over a bassy beat and twinkling piano line.

First, we get the worrying comparison between the upkeep of his own opiate addiction to monthly rent, then the (uncalled for) implication that the listener’s mother is homeless, and the final cherry on top: the fact that Pump spends quality time popping pills with his grandmother. While the specifics remain vague here, it’s implied that he’s taking drugs recreationally while she is taking them for health reasons.

This being one of Pump’s numerous references to the elderly, the topic’s pervasiveness now leads me to believe that this is both a genuine lyric, as well as a thinly-veiled cry for help. As distressing as the lyric may be, at least he’s spending some quality time with his elders before they pass. Even if it’s a drug-fueled haze, I hope that both parties treasure their remaining time together and cherish each other's company.

Exhibit #2 - “Fiji”

I got Fiji on my neck

I got Gucci on my chest

And my grandma sippin' Tech

Off a Xan like Ron Artes

In this one-off Lil Pump loosie, Young Gazzy uses the artesian water brand as a descriptor for both his jewelry and his sex life. Following a similar structure as “Gucci Gang,” this track features a brief intro, and one verse sandwiched between two short choruses. Clocking in at a mere 88-seconds, “Fiji” is a striking minimalist creation that embraces reductionism and revels in ambiguity.

Within the world of hip-hop, “Water” can actually mean many things. From sex to swagger, the use of ‘water’ in-song is generally something you have to pick up from context clues, and this track is no different. In “Fiji” Pump walks a beautifully-ambiguous line between these typical definitions of earthly possessions and literal water, turning the brand’s name into a primal chant of “I pour Fiji on her neck.”

After a brief water-laced refrain, Pump proceeds into the meat of the song: a 45-word verse that discusses his public persona and ticks all of the seemingly-mandatory drug-based name-drops. He has jewelry on his neck, a Gucci logo tattooed on his chest, and most importantly the incongruous mention of his grandmother casually enjoying some hitech (aka Lean).

Perhaps elaborating on the lines of “Gucci Gang,” this lyric implies that maybe he and his grandmother both enjoy drugs on the same recreational level. Later on in the song he continues:

Slice your auntie in the neck

Lil Pump disrespect

Run up on you with that 40

Grab your grandma by the neck

After the verses earlier drug revelry, Pump seems to “set his sights” on the listener, attacking us via multiple familial ties. In a single moment of clarity he utters “Lil Pump disrespect” as if he knows what he’s doing is morally reprehensible, but remains out of his control. A haunting sentiment to say the least.

His hunger is insatiable, and your grandmother is his target. Violence is the only thing he understands, and your grandmother is the only thing he can grasp onto, both physically and metaphorically. And then, just as suddenly as the attack unfolded, the song fades into nothing, leaving the listener in the bloody aftermath.

Exhibit #3 - “Smoke My Dope”

Whippin' up dope in the trap spot (what)

Sellin' cocaine to your grandma (yuh)

Whippin' up dope in the trap spot (yuh, yuh)

Sellin' cocaine to your grandma (yuh, yuh, yuh, yuh)

In this early-album cut Lil Pump and fellow Florida rapper SmokePurpp trade verses for a compact and chaotic 2-minutes. In Garcia’s second verse he exerts himself enough to present one specific instance of creating and selling drugs over a series of escalating “yuh’s.”

In this simplistic portrayal of Pump’s supply chain, he gives his process away to the listener:

Whip up an indeterminate amount of “dope” within the “trap”

Proceed to sell that cocaine to the listener’s grandmother

Perhaps connected to the seemingly-uncalled-for violence depicted on “Fiji,” these lines seem to explain how Pump has obtained his wealth. I imagine that the elderly are comparatively easy-going when it comes to the purchase and intake of drugs, so it’s presumably easy money for Pump and a decent enough business model. Backed up by voracious twitter claims that echo the song’s lyrics, Pump has given us no reason to doubt him or his business acumen when it comes to selling the white stuff to the Greatest Generation.

Exhibit #4 - “Had”

My loud pack smell like fish tank

My backwoods filled with dumb stank

I can't fuck with you, cause I know all you ni**as stains

My grandma selling loud pack and she selling cocaine

She run up on your block and she'll shoot you in the fuckin' brain

With “Had” it seems that there’s a new wrinkle to Pump’s drug operation as it’s revealed that he’s running a family business by employing his grandmother as a key player.

Depicting his bubbe as savage and violent as himself, this example could possibly explain Pump’s own outwardly-destructive actions as a learned behavior. In portraying a systematic issue within our society, this line directly tackles how family can fail us, or lead us to repeat the same mistakes as those that came before us. It’s a tortured and agonized call for help as Pump removes himself enough to realize the trauma that he has indirectly absorbed and the conditions that he has had no choice but to grow up in.

This all said, it’s still nice that people like Pump’s grandmother can find purpose in the fast-paced working world and be driven by the fulfillment of a hard days work. The fact that she’s willing to kill on top of the drug dealing means that she’s committed to the cause, and is likely quite experienced, even in her old age. At the very least, Pump must come from good genes!

Exhibit #5 - “At The Door”

I got junkies at the door

I could serve you 2 for 4

I could serve you couple Xans

I could feed your bitch some coke

Yeah my Uzi automatic

Make your grandma do a backflip

On this mid-album cut, we see yet another allusion to the violence that Pump has inflicted upon the listener’s grandmother specifically. Perhaps wielded by Pump himself, or maybe even his grandmother (as we saw in “Had), it appears as if the drug dealing illustrated on “Smoke my Dope” has gone sideways for one reason or another, and Pump has been forced to resort to violence.

This line is actually one of the multiple familial references within this verse, the others being father, daughter, and aunt, so while this reference fits squarely in the bounds of the topic at hand, there’s no getting around the persistently-elderly angle that Pump takes.

This is yet another line later echoed in a Tweet by Pump, either lending further credence to his unfeeling savagery, or (perhaps) his commitment to our society’s collective physical fitness by inspiring the elderly to do advanced-level gymnastics.

In Conclusion

None of this was good. While Pump’s initial references to the elderly seemed to be a twisted form of mutual enjoyment, things quickly devolved into selling drugs, and eventually inflicting violence directly on the listener's grandmother.

This analysis is absolute stupidity, but I find it too amusing that a 17-year-old who has so few songs officially released has referenced the elderly half a dozen times throughout the history of his recorded work. The way I see it, there are a few explanations for this lyrical ouroboros:

It’s a creative crutch.

Lil Pump has that little to say that he keeps defaulting to “grandma.”

Deep-seated familial trauma in his own past that Pump may or may not be cognizant of.

Pump thinks that the savagery of his grandma implies, dictates, and directly translates to his own.

By “attacking” the listener and showing disregard for their loved ones, his devil-may-care attitude is preemptively deflecting any criticism they may have of Pump or his music.

Lil Pump truly does fear the uncertainty of death and projects that concern through the multiple references to the elderly in his music.

It very well could be all or any combination of all of these, but in any case, I feel it’s safe to say that this qualifies as an unhealthy fixation. Whether it’s a profound fear of death, a thinly-veiled attempt to address his own mortality, or irreconcilable childhood trauma, I genuinely hope that Gazzy Garcia can get the help he needs to get over this mental block.

He’s still got many years ahead of him, and a full life to live. If he wants to make it to the status of “Grandpa Pump” he’ll have to overcome this irrational fear and tackle his issues head-on, or else they will continue to emerge in unhealthy ways.

Here’s to you Mr. Pump, I hope you get the help you need and deserve.

I’m sorry for writing this.

#Lil Pump #elderly #long-form stupidity #real journalism #soundcloud rap #hip-hop #Grandma

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