#thanks so much for the unintended reference!

[zenubi-scribbles]

In my Horrortale drawing obsession, I immediately thought to @n01r-kn1ght ‘s Horrortale Sans drawings and wanted to practice axe/cleaver-wielding poses. These are the couple tries I did. Please check out her/their original post I referenced here. Especially because she drew Horrortale Papyrus too! N01r gave me permission to post the reference material in this manner. Thank you, N01r as I wanted to share the comparison, some of my thought process, and comments.

[turtleybeachin]

Okay I have finally thought of an ask! Not sure if you remember me or not but that's okay. It kinda has to do with the summoning through pacts. I was wondering if you could write something along the lines of an MC who is usually calm, but a MC having a panic attack or is just scared and accidentally summons a brother? I'd like to request all of the brothers or even the dateables but I don't want to ask that much. Do whoever you want with this ask if you do it at all! ❤️❤️

Hi I totally remember you and never forgot this but got way too in my own head about it. I think I crawled back out now. Thanks for being patient with me. ♥ So first of all, I love the concept of accidentally summoning someone to you. Sure, the actual summoning spell is great, but the idea of panic-summoning and maybe not even fully intentionally? Amazing. I started writing how they'd comfort you but got too in my head trying to do everyone (and not feel like i was rehashing Burnout), so I have a few that are spawning future updates to Burnout (for the new side characters), and then some one-offs I'll share as I finish them as well. But! Here are some thoughts I had on alternative summonings when upset.

Characters: Everyone! :) and a GN!MC (reader) Rating: G Word Count: ~2.3k Tagging: references to MC struggling mentally/emotionally, some fluffy affection, mostly a think piece on unintended summoning. Spoiler warnings for OG game, most notably for end of season 2, a bit of season 3, and vaguely part of season 4. Nothing too big, but there nonetheless.

Lucifer's Ring of Light is a perfect fidget piece. Spinning it around your finger, rubbing your thumb along the band, pressing on the edges of the stones to let the dull pinch ground you. It's always there on your finger, always present, always twinkling in the corner of your eye as a reminder you aren't alone. It is not his any longer, but that doesn't mean he isn't still aware of it, that a little piece of him isn't still present in a little piece of its inherent magic. And when you're spinning it and digging it into your palm and distressed, he feels an echo of that pain. It pulls him to you. Perhaps, in your own way, you're admitting you need his presence, his strength, his help, and he is not about to start abandoning his loved ones now.

With Mammon's keychain of that chocolate lizard, your thumb knew all the grooves, the smooth spots and the rough ones, the little spot where paint was chipped away that you knew you shouldn't pick at but it just happened anyway, your nail catching on the rough edge. You fidget with it when anxious because you know Mammon used to fidget with it just the same, and isn't that comforting, to know that even a powerful ancient fallen angel would run his thumb along the very same ridges you do? It's almost like you can still feel the warmth of his touch there. And you can't really think your First Man ain't gonna know you as well as he knows himself, can you? That he doesn't know when you need him, when you're tuggin' on the pact like that?

Leviathan's script he gave you? You've memorized it by now. In times when everything is spiraling, you remember your favorite lines, the ones that remind you to stay strong. You recite them to yourself between shaking breaths. Because when you can't be strong and cool and calm yourself, sometimes it helps to put yourselves in the shoes of Henry, the shoes of the Romantic Lead, the shoes of the characters written to always have a happy ending. It is, you realize, the same way Levi puts himself in the shoes of the Lord of Shadows, wrapping the cool-clever-badass-strong cloak around him as an armor. There's no Lord of Shadows without his Henry, and there's no you without him. And just like how in book six, the Lord of Shadows gets accidentally bound to Henry with a spell and is able to feel when Henry's in need and the Lord of Shadows leaves his lair without knowing where he's really going just knowing that he's needed and he ends up following this magical instinctive pull to find Henry and get to him just in time to save him from his enemies who were-- ...well, let's just say that Levi won't leave you to fight your mind alone for long.

Satan wasn't wrong that cats are perfect for calming the emotional storm inside you. They're good little listeners, and their company is a great distraction from the voices in your head. Watching the little fuzzballs roll around, or nap in a sunbeam, or prowl through the grass, it distracts you from all the frustration and anxiety and worries. Whether it's watching neighborhood cats, or visiting a cafe, or popping into a shelter, you've taken to Satan's favorite hack for handling your wayward emotions. On the really bad days, it's nice to know you can vent and cry to them and they won't judge you or tell anyone your secrets. But did you forget, MC, the stories about cats that traverse the realms? They won't ever tell anyone, but they might wander from you to their favorite place in the Devildom and they might headbutt a certain blond demon's shin and chirp for him to follow them. They are, after all, very good listeners. And so is he.

With Asmodeus, you look at the photos of him on your phone, at your selfies together and how big you smiled beside him. You blink away burning tears to focus on how he looks not at the camera but at you, his body angled not to show his best side (which is every side of course) but to press always closer to you, and how no matter where you two were or what was happening your smiles were always so bright and genuine with him. When everything feels like too much and not worth it and you feel trapped and cornered by situations beyond your control, you find yourself clutching your phone and swiping through hundreds of pictures of laughter and kisses and hugs and twirls and snuggles and you whisper a promise that one day, soon, we'll be together again. Sooner than you expect, of course, because did you really think that he wouldn't feel your burning need for him across realms, hon?

Beelzebub just has to be comfort food, our precious glutton. When life without your demons is getting you down, it's the salty snacks, the sweet treats, the tubs of ice cream with the chunks of something extra to dig for like buried treasure. And whenever you indulge, you can't help but think of your gentle giant and what he'd have to say about everything. He'd be happy you're eating, of course, and then what would he think of your human world snacks? Which makes you think of your favorite Devildom snacks, and that just hits you with a fresh wave of homesickness. But somewhere out there, a realm away, one particular Avatar just gets this feeling, you know? Like the way he knows when Belphie is craving quetzalcoatl brains, or is napping in the garden. Just that instinct. And his instinct is telling him you need your favorite cupcakes. Surely Lucifer will understand how vital it is he takes these three dozen cupcakes to the human world right now. And if he doesn't, well, that argument with his brother can wait until after your craving is satisfied.

Belphegor of course is our star-gazing boy, and while you like the idea of looking into the sky to seek out any possible shared stars to look at with him, you can't always see the stars at night everywhere, and the human realm has day and night cycles that hide them for at least half the day anyhow. For Belphie, you have a pillow from him (that he either gifted or didn't complain about your stealing) that you keep with you -- not for sleeping, but for comfort. A pillow to smother your tears on the rough nights, a pillow to pummel on your frustrated days. A pillow you curl around and snuggle for a memory of contact now distant. And when you drift off in those fitful sleeps of exhaustion, you wander in your dreams to another dream unknowingly. He's with you when you rest, and the moment he can get away from Lucifer's watchful gaze, he'll be there to tug the pillow out of your arms to crawl into your embrace himself.

With Diavolo, well, he knows things. Usually it's because of Barbatos, or Lucifer, or his familiars, but you? MC, you're so much more precious than the 'usual'. If asked by anyone who doesn't know him well enough to call him out, he'd say the charm he placed on you was simply for matters of Devildom security-- after all, you know possibly too much, and that could make you a target to the wrong people! (Barbatos politely does not point out that it's because he misses you so much and wants to see what you're doing.) It's not that he wants to intrude on your life or anything, it's important you have the chance to be as wonderfully human as you are, but he just worries. Are you alright? Are you comfortable? You'd mentioned once the extravagance of the brothers' lifestyle, do you have enough income? The charm is just a minor thing, a little thing, just to make sure you're well. And when you aren't? Well, paperwork and meetings will wait.

With Barbatos, he's just such a badass god-like time lord, we don't even need a pact to be connected to him. You had brought up the idea of a pact once, and he had just given you that dangerous smirk and demurred that it wasn't so much a pact you desired, surely, as his company and his attention, both of which were already yours. It seemed like such a smooth line at the time, but you didn't realize the extent of it. How you're a bright twinkling point on every timeline for him, how you are the center of every universe he knows, how he orients himself in any reality by looking to you. So when something is wrong, when you're falling apart or in danger, it's like the spiderweb crackling of a timeline splitting. Like an itch at the back of his throat, an ache behind his eyes. The choices are to let you suffer alone, or to teleport himself to your side and help you through. Do you even have to wonder which option he chooses?

Simeon may have a complicated relationship with his blessing and his celestial light, with his place and his purpose, but one thing has never felt complicated:  you. Every baked good he ever made for you was made with pure love, and every gift he bestowed -- from a little sheep plush sewn by hand to earrings made from his own feathers -- had all of his hopes and wishes and prayers for you inside them. Maybe that's why squeezing the soft little plush fills you with such warmth and comfort, and why the brush of the feather against your neck feels like a kiss. When you're struggling and upset, the gifts from Simeon make you feel grounded just a little more. And perhaps it's a prayer answered for him, too, that he just has a feeling when it's time to go visit you.

Solomon has been watching out for you longer than you know. It started in the little ways, simple defensive spells and barriers to protect you, reminding demons who looked a little too closely at you who precisely he was and what he could do. It graduated to teaching you to defend yourself, and gifting you various magical trinkets and charms to help focus and direct your growing magics. You still don't really know all the ways that he keeps an eye on you. But he does. Nothing is more important than you. When one of his spells alerts him that you're upset or in distress, well. He just so happened to be in the neighborhood, MC, and what a lucky coincidence that is!

Luke is such a literal perfect little angel baby. One who gave you his blessing, to protect you even when he can't. Everyone teases him for being so young, but he knows that you are the one human he wants to guide and shelter and protect. And sure, when he gave his blessing, it was under the assumption you might need protection from demons or fae, from magic and shadow. But that doesn't mean his blessing doesn't also guide and protect you in times of need that aren't external, MC. When you're at your lowest and feeling completely alone, he feels the pull, feels your pain, and what sort of guardian angel would he be if he left you alone?

Mephistopheles you don't have a pact with (yet?), but imagine your magic ripping open a portal to him without your conscious intent when you're feeling small and lonely and just so badly miss him and want him with you. Maybe you think of him because of the kindness he has shown himself capable of; maybe you think of him because you know he's the least likely person to tell the brothers or anyone else about you having a meltdown. And he's startled and confused when this portal opens before him, the magic somewhat familiar but certainly not demonic, and he warily steps through half-expecting some idiotic prank of one of the brothers only to find you curled up and small and fragile and all of his complaints and questions can wait. After all, clearly you can't even manage your own magic right now, so someone has to keep you from causing trouble.

With Thirteen, it's the little conversation crystal that she gifted you during The Three Worlds' Fair. Perhaps you turned it into a pendant, or perhaps it's just always in your bag or pocket, kept close as a charm for good luck and reminder of the fact you aren't alone. You don't think it would actually work across realms but still hold it tightly and whisper your frustrations or fears or doubts into it just to get things off your chest. But between your magic and hers, it does still connect, and she does hear your outbursts. And at first she just lets it happen, quietly charmed and amused you would use her gift as a secret diary. But when you're really struggling? Well. Reapers are meant to move between realms, you know. There's nowhere she won't go for you.

And Raphael is not an angel to be summoned on the whim of some human. But he is incredibly observant (even if he sometimes doesn't 'read a room' well). He is the one who reads between your lines more than you expected, more than you intended, more perhaps than you want. He sees the tension you hold, the dark circles under your eyes, the way your smiles are just a little slow and empty; he hears the silences where he expects to hear laughter or humming or conversation. And he nearly ignores it, because it's not his business, and you have plenty of other devoted fans already flocking to you, but then he realizes that in those moments you don't. In your pain, you are alone, and that is the most jarring observation of them all. So perhaps it is up to him to correct this cosmic error, and be the one to support the human who supports everyone else.

I hope you still enjoy, even if it's not exactly what you had in mind! ♥ and when i get around to the other little things this spawned, i'll tag you if you'd like.

[jennifersminds]

bestie what Lana Del Rey songs fit tvd characters or just tvd to you?

my bestie, my love, thank you so much for this ask !!!

as someone who's endlessly obnoxious about both tvd and lana del rey this is quite literally a dream come true so-,

SONGS FITTING TVD AS WHOLE

Video Games

"It's you, it's you, it's all for you. Everything I do, I tell you all the time"

tvd at it's core is about people doing unjustifiable things for 'love'. Whether i choose to read some relationships as more of a predatory obsession, the crux of this show is damaged grieving people sacrificing and further damaging themselves and others in the pursuit of it, see the mikaelsons with eachother and the salvatore's with Elena and Elena with basically everyone. And I've always read Video Games as both one of the most beautiful love songs of all time but also as an acknowledgment of codependence and lost potential. The song romanticises monotony and mundane life, which is fair. but there's a touch of melancholy beneath the surface of picture perfect normalcy. much like tvd itself.

Love

Look at you kids with your vintage music Comin' through satellites while cruisin' You're part of the past, but now you're the future Signals crossing can get confusing

...

Look at you kids, you know you're the coolest The world is yours and you can't refuse it Seen so much, you could get the blues But that don't mean that you should abuse it

following that theme,

"part of the past but now you're the future," Could refer to any of the vampire's in the show but I personally love it when thinking of Elena and the doppelganger's before her. In the background of all of history but with an endless future before her. "You could get the blues, But that don't mean that you should abuse it," EVERY FKN KID ON THAT SHOW. And yes I mean kid, the MF gang were children. And they did, in fact, get the blues and abuse it.

ELENA

Norman Fucking Rockwell

"you're just a man, it's just what you do, you're head in your hands as you colour me blue."

Anyone who's read my endless rambling before knows where I'm going with this but, jfc the salvatore's !!! Both Stefan and Damon (and canon as a whole but wtv) view their mistreatment of Elena as something unavoidable. Following the theme of horrific acts in the name of love from earlier, Stefan didn't have a choice in entering Elena's life. To him, it was his right, his purpose. (he had to know her).

Despite Elena being a grieving child who did not need any more bullshit in her life. He had too. And when that later caused even further turmoil, both from his own actions and indirect, unintended consequences. He metaphorically put his head in his hands, it wasn't just her suffering but him. In fact, if he really thought about it, later in canon, that is. It was almost equally her fault what happened. From his POV atleast.

Damon basically follows all the same beats but is more open about it, bemoaning his own lost chances with Elena as something completely disconnected to his very purposeful and avoidable choices to cause her pain. He's impulsive, it's not his fault.

"Goddamn, man child You act like a kid even though you stand six foot two"

Damon could only dream of being 6'2 but you get it.

Pretty When You Cry

"I'll wait for you, babe, you don't come through, babe You never do, babe, that's just what you do"

For one, she is very pretty when she cries, and two, see above.

ELIJAH (essentially every 'she fucked that old man' song in ldr's discography)

Million Dollar Man

"Someone as dangerous, tainted and flawed as you,"

"You're screwed up and brilliant Look like a million dollar man So why is my heart broke?"

He is screwed up and brilliant and he does break my heart.

BONNIE

Season of the Witch

Obviously, like... (also Davina, I never talk about her but that's my girl)

Pretty When You Cry

"I'll wait for you, babe, you don't come through, babe You never do, babe, that's just what you do"

Similarly too Elena, she's also pretty but the thesis of Bonnie's character is unfortunately being let down by the people around her. If tvd hadn't had jplec as a showrunner we probably would've gotten some proper character arc about that before season eight but...

ELEJAH

Cinnamon Girl

"There's things I wanna say to you But I'll just let you live Like if you hold me without hurting me You'll be the first who ever did"

kill me. literally fucking kill me like it's them fr.

BEKLENA

Doin' Time (yes it's a cover but Lana owns it tbf)

"Me and my girl, we got this relationship I love her so bad, but she treats me like shit"

The toxic girlfriends I deserved but wtv.

"I'd like to hold her head underwater"

Because she drowned her.

REBEKAH

Old Money

"But if you send for me, you know I'll come And if you call for me, you know I'll run I'll run to you, I'll run to you I'll run, run, run I'll come to you, I'll come to you"

Stuck in an endless cycle of finding freedom and falling back to help Klaus when he needs it.

"The power of youth is on my mind Sunsets, small town, I'm out of time Will you still love me when I shine From words but not from beauty My father's love was always strong My mother's glamour lives on and on Yet still inside, I felt alone For reasons unknown to me"

Never ending quest for humanity and mortality, her eventual fate of taking the cure. The loneliness of her thousand years etc

Honorable mentions for, Young and Beautiful (pretty much everyone's mortal x immortal ships anthem but specifically the Klarolines fuck with it so hard which I repect). Say Yes to Heaven, also works for literally every ship but it's always very Kolvina to me.

[yandereunsolved]

In reference to your post about Hylian sign: 

BotW Link signing is really popular fanon I think, and I myself like the idea a lot. I wrote a miniscule amount about it a long time ago, but I like the hc that BotW Link's vocal chords were irrevocably damaged during the Guardian showdown and the shrine of resurrection couldn't repair them enough to facilitate speech, so he had to fumble through learning sign after waking up. I also agree with your take about Hylian sign language being relatively unknown.

Not only does Hyrule not have the networks for teaching that we do, (the internet or modern educational tools for example) but it would be harder to spread, and visual languages don’t do amazing in textbooks.

Plus I have a personal headcanon, that due to the elongated ears of Hylians, (meant for hearing the words of the goddess or something) they have advanced hearing, and therefore hard of hearing/deafness is a much rarer affliction and there is much less need for sign language. 

As for Nintendo implementing something like this in their games, I agree that it would be an awesome thing to see, but I doubt Nintendo would ever do it.

Portraying a visual language like sign would require them to create conversation-specific character models for every sign made, individualized to each different character speaking (unless they used the exact same character model) which would greatly extend the process of creating dialogue. Not that a AAA company like Nintendo couldn’t pull it off, but it would be a much bigger expenditure of resources to implement than just…dubbing over moving mouths. 

(Plus they would be forced to either default to a specific localized sign language for every model or create their own language, which…creating a visual language with rules and syntax and signs is much more complicated than writing an alphabet.

Not to mention that Link has always been a blank slate, even in his gender lol. I doubt they’d apply such a polarizing (is that the right word??) trait to him. Seeing a disabled character in general is probably wishful thinking with Nintendo, but..I agree it’s an awesome headcanon and would be so cool to see portrayed one day.

…Sorry for saying so much lol. I didn’t realize I had so many thoughts on HoH Link..

I absolutely love your thoughts. Like, I do. That's the reason I posted my thoughts in the first place. I wanted to know what others thought ofc.

I do agree about the character modeling. I didn't know much about it so thank you for sharing the info. I do believe the word 'polarizing' would be correct because of how disabled characters are portrayed in media. If Nintendo just said one of the Links is HOH and uses sign language—it would cause an uproar.

I'm not a master in politics or anything but lately anything progressive has been labeled as 'woke' by more extremist and right-wing groups online. Not that I am trying to bring politics into this, but I'm saying that the uproar would be due to mostly grifters hoping on the bandwagon of 'represention evil, they are just doing it to appease the masses.'

I personally am always a fan of representation and even if it is wishful thinking, I still think it's a nice wish to have. I'd personally say that as well as what you already said about him becoming HOH. I think the goddesses may have had an unintended affect on it as well. Think about it. Rarely are mortals actually spoken to by the goddesses. Due to the constant exposure of hearing divinity is hearing could have also waned. (The pressure of a mortal hearing divine gospel isn't an easy one. Even if he is the chosen hero.) Second, for specifically BOTW Link I also think his lungs would be weak after a 100 years of sleep, so he wouldn't be able to form words or even groan or grunt correctly until further along in his journey.

Even if it wasn't portrayed in a game it'd be cool to see it in an animation released by Nintendo or at least some more information in something official. It could also just be a fan-made thing. Which would be really cool to see a Fandom come together to do something like that.

I guess I had a lot of thoughts. I usually proofread for grammar mistakes, but I'm tired. So don't mind the mistakes in grammar. :)

[thecagedbard]

Help a Writer Out?

You know what. Writing fluff is easy. Writing traumatic scenes are easy....

Finding references for armor is HARD. In The Caged Bard, I'm preparing to send the entire gang into Gortash's coronation (they have a personal invite thanks to some unintended fey charming) and I've skimmed over the whole 'measurement and idea' portion. But I'm eventually going to have to describe these clothes.

You might ask: Why not use base game or modded clothes? Because Astarion and Vesper's sister did nothing but insult Figaro Pennygood and he's decided to prove his worth to society. (this does not make him a good person.)

& The purpose of this is to poke the *ahem* hive mind on what they should be wearing.

So, here's my ideas: (below the cut)

Astarion: Triple classed: Rogue, Wizard, Fighter. So light armor proficiency, usually wears the Elven Chain.

Designs by: eggperson & catherine?mirror

Gale: Still purely a wizard, but he does have light armor proficiency. I like the middle one because it's very much like his epilogue outfit.

Designs by: catherine?mirror, ko1moys, & unknown

Shadowheart: Pure cleric, and remains in the Trickery domain. (I don't want to lose sending.)

designs by: jaiwitreen & risoluce

Jaheira: Fairly set...just wanna show it off.

Designed by: jaiwitreen

Wyll: Has not yet begun his multiclass into Ranger. So full warlock has light armor proficiency. But he also is of noble birth, he should know what will and won't be seen as 'out of place.'

Designed by: egg person

Lae'zel: Pure fighter so has heavy armor proficiencies, still rocking Githyanki gear for the most part, but even she has to dress up for this.

design by: laminatati & eggperson

Halsin: He likes this plan even less than Lae'zel. Mostly because of how restricting he finds the upper city fashion.

design by: unknown & catherin?mirror

Karlach: Wyll isn't thrilled, but Karlach wants to show the world what Gortash did to her, so engine on full display.

designs by: brillantezza, cherrydesigns & jaiwitreen

Vesper (Tav in the story): Original design was likely more revealing, but after events she's not thrilled with the idea of showing skin anymore.

designs by: lonary

[wil-o-wispy]

The Wife, the Lover and the Bastard Son - Part 3

Pairing: Chris Redfield x FM! Reader (but not in this part)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (You are here) | Part 4 | Part 5

Summary: One year after running from your feelings for Chris Redfield, an oddly familiar face emerges from the shadows.

Contents: Small spoilers for RE6, mentions of vomitting from seasickness, canon typical violence/swearing, Jake banter, canon typical puzzle bullshit, LORE. Reader is referred to as 'Doc' and is the wife of (dead) Albert Wesker and is a former Umbrella scientist.

a/n: Jake is literally one of the best characters in RE6 it is CRIMINAL that he's not in more fics. Be the change you want to see in the world. The plot is plotting in this part and I got a little carried away with descriptions but we're rolling with it. Also many thanks for 100+ likes on this series already. Enjoy!

w/c: 7.1k

1 Year Later:

Don’t puke. Don’t puke. Don’t puke.

That’s all you can think of under the black hood. The last thing you need right now is to puke on yourself. You should be thinking of ways to escape your current predicament, but your stomach lurching with the irregular rise and fall of the boat you’re handcuffed to, the indiscernible shouting of your kidnappers, the sweat all over your body from the unbearable heat and seasickness, and the sickeningly strong scent of fish and salty air is making that near impossible.

How the hell do I keep getting caught up in this shit? Don’t fucking puke. Breathe in through the mouth, out through the nose.

You’d had terrible seasickness since Albert kept you on that tanker for so long until Africa happened. After the second time trying to escape him and being mildly successful, he wanted to make damn sure that it didn’t happen again. Therefore: boat timeout. A boat prison meant it would be more difficult to escape. More resources needed, more planning required for a chance at walking on dry land. The chronic seasickness was an unintended side effect you’re sure, but it only gave another weakness for Albert to leverage against you. ‘The sickness will cease if you listen to me dearheart,’ didn’t sound like a compelling argument on its own to inject Uroboros in your veins, but presented as a solution to vomiting constantly because of the ocean’s movement for four years, it was pretty damn tempting some days. If you didn’t already know that virus was a death sentence, you might have given it a shot.

You’d even insisted that any transportation involving sea travel be explicitly prohibited while you were consulting/in protective custody with the B.S.A.A. Travel by air and car were far more convenient anyway, or at least that’s what Chris assured you. The man witnessed you puking your guts out the day he rescued you from that tanker. Of course he’d back up your request.

I wonder if he knows I’m gone yet. Deep breaths. Don’t puke.

It’s likely, considering it’s been some hours. Even though you’re considered part of B.S.A.A Europe now, you’re still willing to bet that Chris still got important updates about you considering your history. Higher-ups wouldn’t think twice about their favorite soldier wanting updates about the widow of Albert Wesker.

You know better.

His interest is much more personal than that.

As much as you would like to entertain a relationship, you can’t bring yourself to finding out what the aftermath of Chris’ professional life would be if you did. You felt guilty about leaving so quickly and not even telling him, but you figured if you had told him before you left, he might have convinced you to stay. You’d sent him a text wishing him well when you got to your new apartment an ocean away, which is better than nothing you suppose.

You hope he’d get a kick out of the security footage at least. You managed to aggressively elbow one of your kidnappers in the jaw and make them stagger back before you were overwhelmed, restrained and thrown in the back seat of a car. Surprisingly, there weren’t any physical consequences to that besides a mildly sore elbow. Whoever wanted to take you wants you all in one piece, which can either be really good or really bad. It’s the world’s most shitty game of roulette; is it a job offer to work for a terrorist organization? Or is it one of Albert’s disgruntled business partners wanting to use you as a test subject for revenge? Both were unpleasant in their own ways.

With all the circumstances surrounding your transfer to the Germany B.S.A.A. lab, everything was going surprisingly well. Too well. You should have known it wouldn’t last forever. Nothing good ever does in your life. Chris had tried to reach out a few times wanting to talk, but you always dodged his calls blaming the time difference, your workload, or the near-constant stream of outbreaks that always required your professional attention. You didn’t mind. Keeping busy meant less time to think about Chris’ wounded expression the last time you saw him. The attempts at contact eventually slowed in frequency and you only saw him in the occasional group video call regarding major outbreaks. The North American branch rarely had a reason to visit your particular station with it only being a lab and having nothing to do with the B.S.A.A.’s military operations. A small blessing in your eyes.

Germany was a far away dream at this point. There’s light piercing through the fabric of your hood, so you know it’s the next day. It was night when you were taken. You didn’t get a good look at your kidnappers, but you heard them speaking some sort of Asiatic-related language before they bagged you, as well as throughout your journey to wherever ‘here’ is. All you know for sure is that you were in a car for a long time, a plane for an even longer amount of time (that you somehow slept through most of), and this boat for what feels like an eternity.

Mercifully, your hear shouts from the shore and the movement of the boat changes from a straight choppy line to a diagonal jerky tug and pull. They’re docking the boat. You hear an announcement from an old-sounding speaker in that same unfamiliar language close by, followed by an ear grating buzzer. The words from the speaker echo around the space, giving you the impression of a rocky and unforgiveable terrain.

You still feel wobbly when you’re practically dragged from the boat by your handcuffed wrists, but you manage to walk in what you think is a straight line towards wherever your destination is. The hollow echo of walking on wood underneath your feet turns into the gravely sound of small pebbles, then morphs into solid concrete. The overwhelming fish smell also grows weaker the farther you walk inland, although you can still barely smell it if you focus on your kidnappers. They’re talking boisterously and laughing. You can hear them on either side of you, in front of you, and behind you. The desire to rip off your hood, bodycheck the goons next to you, and run off into God-knows-where was strong, but it was also a rash, stupid decision.

Don’t lash out immediately, know the enemy first.

You’d always been told to comply with kidnappers until the B.S.A.A. could get to you, but on the other hand you’re just too proud to blindly do everything they tell you. You always operate on the assumption they won’t find you in time. Hope for the best, prepare for the worst. So, you do what’s become natural at this point: observe and take mental notes.

After a few more paces and a comment from the leader in front of you that the other three belly laugh at, you hear a metallic click, then the metal on metal symphony of a large factory sized door slowly opening a few yards in front of you. There’s a moment of silence between your kidnappers. Then, the ringleader in front of you tugs on your cuffs so hard that you nearly stumble to the ground, but you manage to barely keep your balance. He says words where he sounds like he’s smiling. A joke like before? But the other three aren’t laughing this time. The one on your back right says something quietly, and the ringleader holding your cuffs barks something back angrily.

Then it hits you: these guys are nervous. They haven’t been here before. They’re hesitating to go into the unknown entrance in front of you. These guys are probably a hired third party. The man holding your cuffs shouts something else, startling you and breaking your train of thought. He pulls the cuffs forward as he walks and you’re forced to follow. You hear three pairs of hesitant footsteps behind you.

It only takes a few seconds for you to realize why three of the four men got cold feet at the door. It’s dark in here. The sunlight that was able to pierce through the dark fabric of the hood lessens in intensity the further you’re dragged into the room. As the sounds of the ocean outside get further and further away and you’re questioning what kind of building could possibly be this large.

There’s nervous dissent among the three kidnappers behind you when the big metal door starts closing, but another angry remark from the leader shuts them up. You’re led further and further into the room. You hear yours and your kidnapper’s footsteps echoing around the cavernous room, but the sound gradually reverberates less and less the closer you’re led to bright lights on the other end of the room. The darkness under your hood lessens and grows surprisingly brighter until you’re forced to stop. The ringleader in front of you clears his throat, and pushes you forward slightly. He speaks like a game show host presenting the grand prize, the forced showmanship feeling out of place in the empty environment. A higher pitched, lilting male voice responds over a speaker overhead. Unimpressed. The ringleader tries to keep up the act, but is quickly shut down again.

You hear the higher pitched voice bark out something that sounds like an order, you hear a huff from the leader next to you, then the black hood is ripped off your head. Your eyes are immediately assaulted with bright, military grade lights pointing in your direction. You try to blink away the blindness, but even after getting used to not being in almost complete darkness, you can only make out the silhouette of a wiry man and a bulkier man with some kind of rifle standing next to him in an observation chamber above you. You see the wiry man nod his head in approval. He leans forward and you hear a polite, lightly accented higher pitched voice over the speaker.

“Welcome Doctor. It’s truly a pleasure to meet you.”

You don’t recognize the voice, so you elect keep your expression neutral. “It’s a pleasure to be here.” You reply flatly, clearly wanting to be anywhere else.

“I do apologize for your long journey. But some things just can’t be helped. These kind gentlemen will show you to your accommodations.”

At first, you think he’s referring to your kidnappers, but then you see two soldiers walk out from the darkness in front of you. They’re dressed in black, military style gear and wear something similar to a gas mask on their faces. They’re also holding electric batons. You look around. Your kidnappers are dressed in street clothes and appear close to middle age. Maybe you should have taken your chances with them outside. As the soldiers walk out of the shadows, the lead kidnapper holding you by your cuffs, the oldest by the looks of him, gestures to the wiry man above you all and starts almost shouting in a firm tone while alternating between rubbing his fingertips together and an ‘okay’ symbol. Payment.

The wiry man’s silhouette presses a button on the console in front of him in the booth, and more lights come on to your left. Crates. Lots of them. You don’t know what’s inside from this distance, but judging by the smile on the lead kidnapper’s face the payment is more than satisfactory. The previous nervous tension among the four men is completely eradicated. The nervous one that spoke before tosses a small set of keys to one of the soldiers, the lead kidnapper pushes you forward towards the other soldier, and all four of the men head over to the crates to check out their bounty.

You see the soldier with the key place it in one of the pockets on the front of his uniform and walk back towards the darkness, while the other places you in front of him with a firm hand on your shoulder and walks you forward. You’re in complete darkness for a few paces before you’re blinded again by a pair of industrial elevator doors opening and shadows walking towards you.

You realize the two escorting you are guards at best, not soldiers. The squad in front of you is armed with much more deadly weapons; you recognize pistols and semi-automatic TMP’s as the group marches past you back into the warehouse-type room with your original kidnappers. You don’t have long to wonder why they’re marching back into the room. Just as the doors to the elevator are closing, you hear the confused shouts of your kidnappers get cut short by rapid gunfire.

No witnesses. That’s never good.

You’re not in the elevator for long. The doors open to reveal a long hallway with more industrial style architecture. The guard in front of you starts walking forward and the guard behind you lightly pushes you to follow. His presence behind you makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

As you’re ushered forward, it feels like you’re walking through a cross between an old factory and one of the old Umbrella labs. Some things appear to be 40 years old or more, and other things, such as the doors, have been updated to be futuristic sliding electric doors with keypads for additional security. The wheels are turning in your head on what this place of operations could possibly be, but you don’t have enough information to make any solid conclusions yet.

The guard in front of you scans a key card on the panel next to the door, it beeps, then the door gracefully slides open to reveal another hallway similar to the last one, but completely renovated; bright white and futuristic. The architect clearly took inspiration from the old Umbrella labs.

About halfway down the new hallway, you realize you don’t feel the presence of the guard behind you anymore. You look over your shoulder and stop in your tracks when you see the guard unconscious on the ground a few feet away.

Huh. How’d that happen?

When you stop walking, the guard in front of you turns around, probably to get you to keep moving to whatever cell these people have prepared for you. But as soon as the guard turns around, you see a gray blur drop from the ceiling out of the corner of your eye. The gray blur, a ginger headed man, punches the guard, which makes the guard stumble but he regains his footing quickly. They exchange a few attempts at hitting each other; the guard tries to swing the electric baton but the mystery man dodges the attempted strike. The mystery man gets a few good punches in and successfully disarms the guard, but the guard is able to catch the man’s wrist, the guard then uses his forearm as leverage to pin the man to the wall. It looks the guard is trying to cut off the mystery man’s air circulation, but the man has enough strength and fighting know-how to not get knocked out.

For a moment, you don’t know what to do. You don’t recognize the new man. The only thing you know is that he’s a skilled fighter, and the other guard isn’t going down easy. You also know you can’t escape by yourself, and the B.S.A.A. doesn’t know where you are.

Help the stranger it is.

You run over to the unconscious guard and grab his electric baton and grip it the best you can with your hands bound together. The mystery man is still pinned to the wall by the guard and is trying to wiggle free.

You sprint down the hall, wind up the prod, and smack the guard on the side of the head. The guard doesn’t go down like you hoped, but the shock of you hitting him with the baton gives the mystery man enough time to grab the guard with both hands and ram him into the wall, knocking him out cold.

“You good?” You ask, somewhat out of breath.

The man stretches his neck and arms, nodding his head. “Never better. Thanks for that.”

Now that the man isn’t brawling with the guards, you get a better look at him.

A nagging sense of familiarity emerges in the back of your mind. You’re positive you haven’t met this man before. You couldn’t have. You would have remembered the large diagonal scar on the left side of his face that stretches from the junction of his cheek and nose all the way down to his jaw, or the buzzed ginger hair. Those features aren’t exactly forgettable, yet some detail that you can’t put your finger on in the moment keeps tugging at your memory.

You shake off the feeling. You can sort that out later, but right now you have more binding things to focus on. You hold out your wrists, still bound in the cuffs.

“No problem. Mind returning the favor? The key’s in his chest pocket.” You point your chin to the guard that you shocked.

“Sure thing.”

Jake saunters over to the guard, rolls the unconscious body over to unzip the front pocket to grab the key, then walks back over to you to start undoing the locks on your cuffs. Jake’s eyes flicker between the lock and your face as he does so.

“So… you’re the hot shot scientist.”

It’s more of a statement than a question. You narrow your eyes. Jake easily unlocks the first cuff and begins to work on the second one.

“That depends… who’s asking?”

“Name’s Jake.”

Knowing his name doesn’t help you place this man’s face. You stay silent and wait for Jake to keep going and give you a last name or the company he works for, but instead he unlocks the second cuff and tosses them away, looking at you expectantly with an easy smirk.

“This is the part where you tell me your name.”

“Not before you tell me why you’re here.” When in doubt, be on the side of caution. Just because this man helped you, doesn’t mean he’s on your side. You rub your wrists, trying to get rid of the sting of the cuffs being on your wrists for so long.

“Just a little… preventative maintenance for a friend. You got a name?”

You purse your lips, trying to get a read on what Jake means by ‘preventative maintenance.’ He took out the guards, so unless he’s going for a long con, he doesn’t work for the people who took you. Most mercenaries wouldn’t rescue someone on a job unless it’s in their contract, although any good murder for hire would know what their target looked like before accepting the job. You’re willing to bet his intentions are most likely in line with your own. You relax your shoulders.

“Just call me Doc. And yeah, I’m the virologist.”

The cavalier attitude Jake is exuding shifts slightly and for a moment you think he’s connected the dots on who you are, but instead Jake’s attitude morphs into optimistic determination.

“You know the periodic table?”

You stand there, confused and trying to figure out why he’s thinking about something so out of left field, but coming up with nothing. You answer honestly. “Uh… yes?��

A satisfied smirk stretches across his face. “Good. I could use your help. C’mon.”

Jake strides over to a specific section of wall and presses an unassuming panel on it. A keypad pops out and Jake starts to type on it while you stay in your spot processing what just happened.

“Excuse you, I don’t remember volunteering my expertise!”

“What’s the hold up Doc?” Jake finishes inputting the number sequence and you hear a hiss, something metal releasing, the panel of wall that you now realize is a hidden door sliding back a couple inches, then the wall panel sliding to the left to reveal an industrial staircase winding downward. Jake turns back to you, a cavalier expression on his face. “You got something planned already with sleeping beauty over there? Or are you coming with me?”

Jake gestures to the guard you electrocuted on the floor. You look at the guard, then the other one further down the hall, then back to Jake. “Lucky for you, my plans just got canceled. Let’s go.”

It only takes a few minutes to figure out that Jake knows his way around this place. The staircase leads to another series of dingy hallways that Jake saunters through with confidence. Either he’d already figured out these sections weren’t closely guarded, or he’d taken measures to make sure he wouldn’t have to worry about surveillance. Either way, you’re relieved to be in the presence of someone who knows what they’re doing and isn’t trying to hold you hostage.

“So… you didn’t say who you work for.”

Jake thinks about his answer, then shrugs and keeps walking. “I consider myself an independent contractor. But right now, I’m on the B.S.A.A.’s payroll.”

“Really? You don’t strike me as B.S.A.A.” You know for a fact that the B.S.A.A. recruits almost exclusively from armies around the world. Army life causes soldiers to have a certain disposition. A certain disciplined way of carrying oneself resulting from years of drills and training. Jake’s body language felt much too relaxed for that lifestyle.

“I’m consulting.”

You give the man a half smile hearing that. The way Jake said that made it sound like he wasn’t exactly happy about it, but accepted the job nonetheless. Something you could easily relate to. “What a coincidence, so am I.”

“For viruses? You some kind of expert on bioweapons?”

You shrug and keep following Jake. “I’ve got a good amount of practical experience.” It’s a true but vague statement. Jake doesn’t need to know the details of why you know so much. Any mention of your past with Umbrella or Wesker never ends well with strangers.

Jake looks over his shoulder with an eyebrow raised. “Don’t give me that humble bullshit.”

You scoff and smile. Definitely not army. “Okay. You’d be hard pressed to find someone who knew more. Better? What do you need to know?”

“Give me a rundown of the G-Virus.”

You don't answer for a long moment, stunned. “The G? These guys went through the trouble to get me here for that?” Your tone is incredulous.

“What?” Jake doesn’t sound confused at your reaction. Only curious.

“It’s just… unstable and obsolete compared to other bioweapons. It’s not exactly competitive against strains nowadays where infected can tell the difference between enemy and ally.”

“Obsolete huh? What’s your theory on why they have it all the way out here then?”

“They’re… low on funding and have limited options? Or they didn’t care what they’re buying.”

You pause, realizing Jake can fill in some missing information for you. “And who are ‘they’ and what is ‘here?’ I didn’t get a good look at anything on my way in.”

Jake chuckles and shakes his head. “You must piss off a lot of people.”

You roll your eyes at Jake’s comment and keep following him. “You don’t have to be an ass about it.”

“Not judging, I respect it. I’m on a fair share of shit lists myself.”

“If you don’t know the answers, you can just be honest about it.”

“Alright alright. Technically, we’re in Japan, but it’s more of a small as shit island in the Pacific. I was told this was a former Umbrella research outpost.”

You scrunch your brows in confusion. “I didn’t know they had labs this far out from the mainland.”

“Neither did I, but ya learn something new every day.”

Eventually, the dingy hallways and platforms lead to another mechanical door that reveals another white hallway not unlike the ones you remember from Umbrella’s previous headquarters in Raccoon City. You don’t have much time to reminisce as you follow Jake to a door at the end of the hall.

The room you enter is somewhat dated. The equipment here looks like it came straight out of the 90’s, but with some modern updates in a few choice sections. Jake ignores all of that in favor of leading you to the other side of the room where a mechanical door and a keypad are waiting. The door is notably one of the only things in the room that’s been updated.

“Mind taking a crack at this Doc?”

Jake hands you a note with an Umbrella header on it:

Pierre if you’re reading this, I’ve changed the password to the specimen room. I know it impedes business to change it so frequently, but the boss insists on the highest level of security due to the nature of the special project. The new password is your namesake element on the periodic table. Just type in the atomic number and weight in that order. Don’t mess it up again. That damn alarm will lock everything down and Aimi nearly blew a gasket the last time I had to get the security key to disable it again.

“You brought me here for this? Seriously?” You look at Jake like a disappointed mother. Do schools not teach the manmade elements in chemistry anymore? In your mind, you think that Jake went a little overboard bringing someone with a PHD to solve a periodic table puzzle. Jake doesn’t react to your question. He just keeps up the cavalier attitude.

“So you can solve it.”

“You know Google exists, right?” You reply, deadpan.

“No service in the middle of the ocean. Are you going to help me out or not?”

You scoff at the comment, then hand the note back to him and stride to one of the bookshelves. “Yes. It’s Curium.” You thumb through the spines trying to find a chemistry book of some kind.

“But his name’s Pierre. You sure?”

You find a ratty chemistry book with university library stickers all over the spine. Bingo. You pull it out and flip through the back pages, finally finding what you were looking for: a periodic table.

“Pierre Curie and Marie Curie discovered the element. That’s the answer. Type in 96247.”

You snap the book shut and you hear Jake typing in the code on the door. Now that Jake’s errand is almost done, it’s time to get the hell out of Dodge. Or the ocean in this case.

“After you run your maintenance we need to find a radio, or a ride out of here. I don’t want to be in the middle of nowhere longer than I need to be.”

“I’m no travel agent, but I think that can be arranged.”

You turn to join him, but a logo on some papers scattered around on the desk by the bookshelf catches your eye; a Tricell logo. Your eyebrows scrunch together. Albert partnered with Tricell for the Uroboros project and the company has been defunct since Africa happened four years prior. Why is that logo here of all places?

You hear a beep behind you and a mechanical door sliding open with a soft hiss as you pour over the documents. They’re copies of internal documents relating to the development of the Africa strain of Plaga parasites with yellow highlights all over them. A large label that reads ‘G – U’ stuck on a keycard is blocking one of the notes so you move it to the side. More concerningly, the only things you see highlighted are locations of labs and sites of infection with handwritten margin notes in Kanji that you don’t understand.

“Hey uh, Doc?” Jake is calling you from inside the room that was unlocked.

“Hm?” You respond, still half-focusing on the Tricell documents.

“I don’t think these guys had limited options.”

A sense of dread starts to form in the back of your mind when Jake says that. You speed walk over to the now accessible room. It’s a large, white room with rows of what look like display cases. You see Jake looking through the glass and into display on the other side of it. You walk up next to him to look for yourself and your heart drops to your stomach when you see what he’s talking about.

On the other side of the glass, you see a complete family of Plaga parasite strains. As you walk down the aisle, you see the original strain from Spain, all the way to the newest strain that popped up in Edonia a couple years back. Although to your relief, you see that the Amber strain which allows the infected to have both strength and free will isn’t displayed.

You glance at the aisle behind the Plaga parasite display. You immediately recognize the familiar T-Virus series. It’s concerning how thorough the collection is. Even without reading the placards underneath each sample, you recognize the strain that caused the outbreak at the Spencer Mansion, the T-Abyss virus from a few years ago, a few different failed strands from the Marcus-Birkin projects, among dozens more. You feel your heart skip a beat when you see the T-VERONICA placard, but you relax when you see that the sample holder is empty.

“Doc? Talk to me what’re you thinking?”

Even with the display cases missing a few of the more powerful specimens, it was still the most comprehensive collection of viruses and parasites in a single place that you’d seen in your career.

“They nearly have the whole damn catalogue in here.” Your tone is grim. Samples as comprehensive as this can only spell something bad on the horizon, but you’re not too sure what.

“I don’t understand what their play is here.” You state, still walking along the T-Strain aisle and examining each sample. Your footsteps echo around the room from the grate flooring. Based on the setup, each one appears to be a live sample.

“I think I do. They’re trying to be a one stop shop for bioweapons and this is the showroom.” Jake spits in disgust.

At first glance, Jake’s observation appears correct. But upon closer examination, that conclusion doesn’t quite fit. You slowly walk along the aisle and look at Jake through the glass in the aisle opposite. He’s examining the strains in the G-Sample section, looking back and forth from the samples in front of him and his phone.

“I want to agree with you, but I don’t think that’s it.”

Jake stops and looks at you confused. “Why?”

“They don’t have nearly enough inventory. These are samples. An unusually comprehensive collection of samples, but there’s only one of each.”

Jake shrugs. “Maybe it’s somewhere else.”

Again, a logical conclusion that doesn’t quite fit. “Outside of this facility? Possible. Here? There would have to be at least a few dozen rooms like this to store everything properly.”

You stop walking.

“And logistically, it just doesn’t make sense. We’re practically in the middle of nowhere. Why would a business owner put their showroom in one of the most difficult to reach places on the planet? You would think they’d want to make it easy for the buyer to review product, as well as convenient for the owner to ship out that product. Someone wanting to be a one-stop-shop would be on the mainland.“

You pause, an icy feeling washing over you. The bag on your head during your transport here and the execution of your kidnappers suddenly makes a lot more sense. 

“These people don’t want to be found.”

Jake’s eyes flick from his phone to your face. “So they’re working on something big. A new G-virus?”

You shift on your feet shaking your head while looking over the G-Virus samples. “Yes to the big project, no to the G. Whatever it is, it’s not down here.”

“You sure about that? This one’s missing.” Jake holds his phone up to the glass so you can see on the other side of the G-Sample row. Jake’s correct this time: this specific strain isn’t displayed. You tilt your head in confusion.

“That’s not a strand I recognize.” At first glance, you know it's an unusual strand of G-Virus. G-Viruses are normally green in color, but this one is a sickly pink.

Jake grunts, shaking his head and pocketing the phone. “It’s never that simple. Is it? An all-inclusive virus buffet and one of the only one that's missing is the one I need.”

Jake pulls out a pistol you didn’t know he had, checks the clip to make sure it’s fully loaded, then holds it down by his side as he strides out of the room.

“Where you headed?” You call after him.

“Main lab upstairs. I’ll come get ya after I’ve got the G-sample.” He answers over his shoulder.

“Absolutely not!” You reply in disbelief and Jake stops walking, sighing in annoyance. He can’t seriously think he can take on the army upstairs with just a pistol. You try to talk some sense into him.

“We need to find a radio and get the B.S.A.A. here. These people will kill you no questions asked if they see you. Plus, that handgun of yours isn’t going to cut it against their hardware.”

Jake shrugs his shoulders, unconcerned. “I’ve had worse odds.”

“That doesn’t make lone wolfing this any less stupid! There’s a base in Tokyo, we just need to find a way to contact them-”

You stop talking abruptly when you catch a glimpse of a dangerously familiar sample. The one that changed the course of your life for the worse. The one that your dead husband tried and failed to infect the planet with. The name UROBOROS is proudly displayed at the end of the G-Virus aisle in the back, nearly drowned out by the sheer number of G-Virus samples.

You hear Jake saying something to the effect of ‘I’ll be back before they even know I’m there’ but you’re not registering what he’s saying. Your vision has tunneled to only focus on that devil sample. All it takes is one slip up by a careless scientist to infect this whole place. You think back to the keycard in the other room by the Tricell papers; ‘G – U.’ G-Virus to Uroboros. This time can be different. You have the power and knowledge to stop this.

“Hey? Earth to Doc? You still with me over there?”

“That needs to be destroyed.” Your voice is barely above a whisper as you stare at the Uroboros sample. You keep your eyes on the sample for a few steps, then brush past Jake to rush into the other room to find supplies; some kind of glass beaker, metal garbage can, something to contain the damned thing when you burn it to ash.

As you begin nearly tearing the lab apart in your barely controlled frenzy, Jake steps back into the sample room to look at what has you so distressed.

“Uroboros? That’s the uh… it’s not a G-Virus is it?”

You open a cabinet and find a large glass beaker. You grab it and set it on the counter and keep looking for more supplies.

“Yes! Now less talking and more helping. There’s Bunsen burners here, so there has to be some matches-”

“Can't this wait? Is it really any worse than the other ones?”

You aggressively close some drawers as you turn back to Jake with a serious glare.

“Albert Wesker. Heard of him?” Your voice is low and controlled.

Jake’s face melts into a barely hidden look of disdain. “Yeah, I have.”

“He tried to use it to cleanse the world, as he put it. He spent years injecting innocent people with that and he was the only one who didn’t turn into a flesh-eating worm thing.”

You open more drawers and find a cleaning cabinet with a half full container of rubbing alcohol. You grab it, along with a pair of cleaning gloves, and set them next to the beaker. You start soaking random bits of scrap paper with the liquid and stuff it into the beaker.

“Not only that, he tried to launch that shit into the atmosphere with a deranged smile on his face. It nearly ended the world once and that’s not something I, or anyone, needs to deal with again.”

You put another splash of rubbing alcohol into the beaker for good measure then forcefully put the bottle on the table causing it to spill some of the liquid on the table. It doesn’t slow you down. You quickly put on the cleaning gloves and dig through the drawers around the lab looking for a lighter or matches. Smoking isn’t rare in Japan so one of those items must be here somewhere.

“So Wesker had special blood?” If you were paying closer attention to the way Jake said that, you would have easily picked up that he knew more than he was letting on. But you don’t. You’re too busy trying to get rid of a dormant threat sitting in the other room. You answer without thinking while opening more drawers by the bookshelf.

“Genetically, he was one in a trillion. But even with that, he still had to take doses of the virus periodically to keep it stable. All the more reason to nip this in the bud before it becomes a problem again.”

“You know a lot about this.” A statement of fact, not a question.

“Yeah, I do!” You exclaim dramatically as you slam a cabinet shut when there, once again, aren’t any matches. You’re so frustrated that Jake is asking so many questions and won’t just help you.

“You knew him.” Another statement of fact, not a question. His eyes are dissecting your every move now. The look vaguely reminds you of Albert and you feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Albert used to look at you like that when he wanted to know if you were lying or gauging your reaction to something he told you. You shake off the feeling. The Uroboros discovery is making you paranoid.                                                                                            

You sigh and shift on your feet, leaning back against the cabinet with your eyes on the ceiling. The scent of rubbing alcohol is strong in the silent room. You shift your eyes to Jake’s after a long moment. His expression is nearly unreadable, but there’s an underlying edge in his posture now. He knows. Not everything, but he’s catching on to why you’re so passionate about this. There’s no use lying about it.

“I knew him…well, okay? At least I thought I did before all the crazy. But right now we have more important things to do than rehash my history.”

You force yourself to tear away from Jake’s calculating gaze and resume your search.

“I nee-… we need matches. Can you just help me look please?”

You don’t hear a response behind you, and you think that Jake is going to keep asking you questions. But after you open a few more drawers you hear a rustle of fabric and a metallic tink.

“Use this.”

Your head whips over to Jake and a wave of relief washes over you. Then annoyance.

He’s holding a lighter.

He had that the whole damn time you were tearing through the lab looking for matches.

You decide it’s best to hold off on scolding him until after you get rid of the Uroboros sample. Instead, you take the lighter with a gruff thank you. You grab your supplies along with the ‘G - U’ keycard and head back into the sample room.

You enter the room with newfound determination. You couldn’t stop Uroboros on your own all those years ago, but this time it’s different. You’re stopping a disaster before it has a chance to start. You place your supplies on the floor next to the case, preparing to immediately plop the Uroboros sample into the beaker. In your peripheral vision, you notice Jake leaning against the doorframe, watching your every move.

You scan the card.

Instead of the glass sliding down into the base like you expected, it stops a quarter of the way down when a deafening alarm sounds overhead and Jake is forced off of the mechanical door when it reels shut. Before you can even call out to him, gas starts pouring into the room from the grates on the floor.

All senses of self-preservation leave you in this moment. Thousands of years of survival instinct telling you to run and claw at the door and scream for help is ignored because, once again, your thoughts are only consumed by the existence of the Uroboros sample. Possessed by only one thought: you can’t fail to stop this again. You couldn’t justify something as trivial as your own survival if it meant there was a sliver of a chance of something like Africa happening again.

You force yourself to focus, even though it’s getting so much more difficult with your mind starting to cloud from the gas. You hold your breath to prolong consciousness. There’s enough space between the glass and the edge of the case that you can squeeze your arm in and grab the damned sample. You can hear Jake banging on the door shouting your name, but his voice sounds so far away as you force the sample from its display rod and gracelessly sink to your knees.

Your hand feels unwieldy and heavy as you drop the sample into the glass beaker. Even more so as you try and fail to roll the lighter wheel fast enough to make a flame. You rip off a cleaning glove to get a better grip and you keep trying. You have to. This needs to work. You can’t fail again. You won’t fail again.

You pause to finally take a breath and force yourself not to cough from the downright bone numbing gas that’s still filling the room. Your vision is starting to blacken at the edges and your body slumps so much that you’re resting on your stomach, so you make a conscious effort to tighten your grip as hard as you can on the lighter and roll the wheel. A small flame erupts from the lighter. With a shaking hand you thrust it into the beaker and the alcohol-soaked kindling erupts into flame. You barely notice the sting of the flames against your hand when you retract it.

Everything feels heavy. You finally let your body resign to the gas and let your head rest on the ground. With each shallow breath, the darkness at the edge of your vision grows more and more prominent. You don’t hear Jake anymore, but you do hear indiscernible voices on the other side of the wall getting farther and farther away and loud pops. Gunfire? Or Jake banging on the door?

The last thing you remember seeing before the darkness overtakes your vision are blackened remains in a glass beaker and a pair of unfamiliar, polished shoes slowly walking towards you.

__________________________________

Thanks for reading!

Tag List: @killerwendigo

a/n 2: I really hate doing filler/transition chapters as a principle, but I promise that it's very necessary for what's coming. Chris x Reader is going to be on the backburner for a couple parts but I assure you he's coming back and it will feel rewarding when he does.

AO3 link for this part.

[horsesource]

hi! I just came across your post about autism and found it so interesting... where can I learn more about “autism emerging out of psychosis”, as you put it? x

Thank you, it is something interesting to me that I care about

"Autism emerging out of psychosis" can be meant in two different ways. The article Autism: Schizo of Postmodern Capital by Hans Skott-Myhre and Christina Taylor addresses both of these. if you don't have familiarity with some of the psychoanalytic and philosophical arguments about mental symptom production, I still think it's very much worth reading.

Autism, as word, quite literally came into existence as a symptom of schizophrenia. By that I mean, when Eugen Bleuler coined the terms "schizophrenia" and "autism", he used "autism" not as a separate diagnosis but to demarcate a symptom of schizophrenia (a turning "inward", a withdrawal of symbolic exchange, catatonia). Schizophrenia characterized by autism was considered as particularly "extreme", more hopeless than the symptomatic relentless verbosity typically associated with schizophrenia. It's common to attribute this initial "misunderstanding" of autism connected to schizophrenia as an unfortunate lack of diagnostic clarity, later resolved when autism had its own diagnostic territory staked out. I disagree; autism has always been incredibly slippery (it went from construal as an excess of fantasy, an extreme retreat into an incredibly imaginative inner world, to being written as the polar opposite, as flat literality, as a deficiency or aberrance of imaginative capacity, as a paucity of inner world; Asperger's was subsumed by Autism Spectrum Disorder in 2012 which made things even fuzzier (exactly what sort of person are we supposed to imagine when we hear "autistic"?); the influx of speaking, "late diagnosed" autistic individuals is resulting in a drastic rewriting of the popular understanding of autism, etc) and it is much more fruitful imo to track historical fluctuations rather than assume autism is on its way to being nailed down conceptually once and for all

But of course, autism and schizophrenia are more than diagnostic categories. They are subjective processes, they are ways of being in the world through body and language.

As I mentioned in the post you referred to, post-Fordism, the development of communicative technologies and financial capitalism radically changed the nature of labor/the relations of production and consumption. With this change came both deliberate and unintentional production of radically different subjectivities. Communicative prowess, imaginative capacity, personality appeal, ability to cope with intense instability and competition...all of these became economic resources in a way that they were not in an era dominated by factory production. Which brings me to the 2nd article I'm linking, Capitalism and Schizophrenia: Contemporary Visual Culture and the Acceleration of Identity Formation/Dissolution written by the CEO of Buzzfeed.

Although Buzzfeed CEO never once mentions autism, he does describe an unintended consequence of minds saturated by a psychotic, ever-accelerating barrage of information and representation:

“These media-savvy youth consume the accelerated visual culture of late capitalism, yet do not develop ego formations that result in consumer shopping. It is as if the light and sound from the television is sufficient to satiate their desire. Actual products become superfluous ­­as the media itself is the final object of consumption."

If endless identity/self consumption and production is compelled by a structurally psychotic market economy, perhaps what cannot be captured economically is a subjectivity that is not consuming representations for its formation, improvement, or dissolution, but sheerly for "light and sound". A subjectivity unconcerned with legitimizing its subjectivity. Tell a speaking autistic "you don't look autistic" and we will predictably give you 1000 reasons why we have autism coursing through our veins, we will assert "I Am autistic" until blue in the face, we will provide paperwork and professionals to vouch for our autism, we will produce tiktoks about the dangers of the invalidation of autism. Tell a nonspeaking autistic "you don't look autistic" and chances are they're listening to the sound of a voice or the sound of a bird

[batrachised]

Oh, Anne Shirley, and her wonderful, uplifting, sweet, wholesome stories. The series begins with a little orphan girl who finds a home and a family, saving Matthew and Marilla just as much as they save her. Anne walks as if about to fly, wandering through life with her head the clouds but her heart in the right place, and even through all her scrapes, from the embarrassing to the wrong to the hilarious, she keeps her eye true to herself and retains her sense of wonder and imagination even as an adult.

So, how do we reconcile this with how the series ends?

You mean Rilla of Ingleside, batrachised? you ask, thinking of our more heartbroken and downtrodden Anne. But no. I'm referring here to The Blythes are Quoted. This is the book that actually contains the last glimpse we see of our beloved Anne Shirley. And, to be frank, it's dark. I read it the other day (although my friend gogandmagog warned me, she WARNED me) and had to sit with it.

Before I share the passages, some context: LMM intended TBAQ to be published, although it wasn't published in her lifetime. The foreword to the book notes the difference between the Piper poem referred to Rilla, and Walter's hopeful letter about making Canada safe for the poets of the future--and then, what we see in this book.

Here is the last chapter we get in Anne Shirley's story [warning: heartbreaking]:

So there we have it-- a poem where Walter imagines killing a boy (although I personally think we could read this as Walter actually killing someone, because how would Jem know?) and then Anne steadily saying she is thankful Walter didn't live to see what the world would become. At the end of TBAQ and the Anne series, WWII is raging. Rilla reflects on how, once again she's waiting for the horror to end, but this time with a son at the front. Even Jem, so bold in the first book (although he returns "no longer the laughing boy brother" who left), now has sons in WWII, now the one waiting at home for their safe return.

There's a lot to reflect on on this passage; how LMM clearly became disillusioned by WWII -shown in Anne's words, how the front impacted Walter's imagination and creative outputs, how this is the ending LMM chose for the characters (although perhaps she would have written more if she had lived longer, we can never know)--"The End" here is stark. "We forget because we must," the last words LMM wrote for Anne's story.

But, I think Jem is wrong (from a certain point of view). I had to mull over the contrast between what Jem says and what Walter writes (and also because, to be honest, my ability to interpret poetry is of equal capacity to a toenail's). Jem describes himself as made of tougher stuff than Walter, but what stands out to me here is that, from a certain perspective, Jem's thoughts are radically different than his brother's. Jem explicitly says they must forget; Walter explicitly says they must remember always. Even in the poem, assuming this isn't a publisher error, those words aren't italicized, emphasized amidst the rest.

Of course, Walter is discussing the pain of remembering; his message is that he'll never be able to forget, which parallels Jem's of having to forget. Both touch on the horror of WWI from different directions. To be clear, I think that was LMM's intent. But stepping beyond her intent, there's an underlying, unintended (?) message here of how forgetting risks repeating, something the characters are living through. Forgetting risks rendering the sacrifices made futile.

To my earlier question of how we reconcile this end: we don't, at least in my opinion (although I'd love to hear other's thoughts). I think the message here is all the more powerful because it's from our beloved Anne. It demonstrably condemns war, without any sugarcoating or even hope. A sharp contrast to the rest of the series, yes, but I think it's a fair one.

[raayllum]

Hey! I was wondering what your thoughts are on Viren's dark magic dreams (your posts on plot points are always really interesting to read, so I'd love to hear your opinion!)

Especially in perspective with Callum's dark magic dream. Callum and Viren have close arcs and I'm sure their dreams must have some linking ideas (like the door/key?)

First of all, thank you for your kind words and sorry this ask is so late!! I will do my best to answer <3

Viren's dark magic dreams are tricky since some of them reference things (specifically Kpp'Ar and Soren's illness) that we just don't have total context for, largely:

Why and how, exactly, Soren became ill. If it was a randomized illness, as sometimes unfortunately happens, vs Soren got sick because of exposure to dark magic or something adjacent to it, those will paint Viren's desperation/decisions to save him in very different lights accordingly (both sympathetic, I think, but the latter concept adds to the idea that the bloodprice will just keep growing, y'know? Unintended consequences and all that)

On that note, what, exactly, Viren did to save him, although I have my theories here regarding what ingredient might've been crucial, and why I think star magic was involved.

Potential (likely) differences between dream/nightmare Kpp'Ar vs real life Kpp'Ar, as we see the way both Viren's wish fulfilment and guilt twists the scene he shares with Harrow. And of course what Viren wanted to do that was so terrible Kpp'Ar 1) revoked dark magic, 2) couldn't justify and 3) got in Viren's way enough that Viren coined him.

The rest of the dreams are, I think, overall, fairly straight forward, mostly because we have the context to decode them:

Harrow scene because that was the main relationship at the time keeping Viren on remotely the 'right' path and the deterioration of it clearly devastated him. Also ties into Viren's S4 + S5 arc of realizing he wants to, and should have, prioritized meaningful relationships > power and status when it came to how he wanted to matter

The twin peaks reference scenes are well, references, as well as exploring Viren's wish fulfilment (Kpp'Ar as his high mage, Viren as king) but also how that pursuit for power destroyed him, hence why he's only free once he removes and throws off the crown

The Claudia scenes are about his fear and regret regarding what his death and Aaravos has forced Claudia into becoming, as well as the path Viren was leading her down for much longer, bringing the idea of "She is not an asset, she is my daughter" and his nightmare memory of it from S4 nicely and tragically to fruition

Viren speaking with his past self through the mirror re-contextualizes why he was so confident it was Important, object wise, and serves to spell certain things out for us as an audience (ideas of paths and choices and freedoms)

There aren't a ton but there are some parallels between his and Callum's dreams (because you'd have to purposefully try to find something they don't have something parallels wise on show wise, at this point) in as follows

The most obvious is the conversations with their mirror selves.

For Callum this is a reflection void of the mirror, and for Viren, this is a reflection in the mirror (whether his past or present self is the one imprisoned could go either way). For present Viren, he's the corrupted one, who has to acknowledge his younger, less corrupted self, as well as that he had more agency than he wanted to admit. For Callum, he rejected his corrupted self, but obviously S5 both complicated and pulled on that set up (2x08 dark magic Callum's rune cube displaying the Ocean and Moon runes most prominantly, and Callum did dark magic in S5 ocean for his moon gf / doing dark magic again and the emotional journey there let him understand the ocean arcanum)

This is also juxtaposed with Callum's dreams about the dark magic being in confronting what he's done VS Viren's dreams being about confronting what he's done, yes - but mostly about confronting his justifications for what he did, which is an interesting difference, I think.

The drowning / water as danger parallel, only Viren literally sinks through water and is trying to save someone else (Claudia) from drowning vs Callum himself was metaphorically to literally drowning

Being guided by the dead in a lot of ways, since for Callum he has both of his parents (outside of Villads) and Viren is forced to confront people he's driven away (Kpp'Ar / Soren), versions of people that no longer exist (young Soren and Harrow) if they ever did, and Claudia carrying on his path to become a walking corpse (because dark magic in a lot of ways equals death)

The keys vs doors, for sure, although Callum is more overtly tethered to freedom through the keys / Harrow's chains, whereas with Viren it's a bit more metaphorical (he clasps his wrist in 5x03 in a similar manner that Callum does later to mimic chains in 5x08) and through dialogue mostly than dialogue and symbolism

This is super random but the tree when Viren is having his nice scene with young Soren always stands out to me as well, mostly cause it doesn't need to be there, and makes me think of the tree Claudia nearly walks into in 1x01 / the tree on the star chart map but like. Super vague and probably nothing? Still a thought though <3

If you're interested in more Callum-Viren post-S5 thoughts, I'd recommend these posts: What did Viren and what does Callum want?, How Callum and Viren sacrifice (written post-S4 but updated with S5 screencaps), Why ramp up the foiling? and general celebration that they are, indeed, switching foils, which is exactly what I was hoping for / banking on

[the-empress-7]

"I am going to start calling Charles, Nero."

For real, just give him a fiddle and blame some small religious sect if the Monarchy falls down. Seriously though, I completely agree something needs to be done publically to stop the Sussex association to the BRF, but it won't happen while Charles is in charge (reference unintended but still funny).

BTW, I wanted to thank you for your kind words to my last ask to you, I promise that I have a good team of doctors, for both physical and mental health, and am working hard to get control of of my trauma induced medical conditions. I'm saving up to do ketamine therapy, it's going to be $1200 for a 3 month treatment and I should be able to save it by the summer. Ketamine is not a first, second, or 10th option for mental health treatment, just to be clear, it's a last resort when all other treatments fail to handle the depression and anxiety. But I will be okay until I can get that money saved for that therapy, I promise.

You're such a kind soul, Empress, it's one of the reasons I love your blog, as well as your insight.

I am sending you so much love dearest. You know what best for you, and please don't forget to be kind to yourself. Please stay in touch ❤️

[gubbles-owo]

I am begging you to infodump about RDP hardware bugs

okay so full disclosure i'm not super studied on the hardware in excruciating detail-- I wish I could be, but that's all a bit out of my league! So what I know is largely limited to the snags I've personally walked into when messing around with libdragon, a free and open source library that's largely intended to help you sidestep a lot of these hardware bugs and odd quirks. so with that disclosure out of the way! The RDP is the Reality Display processor, a rasterizing unit that takes triangle data processed by the RSP (Reality Signal Processor) and fills in pixels to push to the framebuffer. So it's responsible for rendering most of the actual image you're seeing on the screen. Along with the high-latency RDRAM, the rather slow RDP is much bemoaned as one of the primary bottlenecks for performance. Tri count ain't the killer on N64, nah it is fillrate and memory access. The particular component I've dealt with more in detail is the Color Combiner, or CC. It's a fixed function pipeline that can be configured with various sources to determine the color of a triangle. These sources can include 2 texture slots, vertex color, primitive/environment color (explicitly defined color registers), the result of the first CC cycle (if configured to 2-cycle mode), and so on. It has quite a few quirks to it!! For starters, clamping is... kind of broken? values for the RGB and Alpha components are intended to be clamped between 0 and 255, but this only sort of works. Anything up until 383 is correctly clamped down to 255, but go above this (up to 511) and it actually wraps back around to 0. This makes any additive operations tricky to pull off, as you can quickly wind up with overflow that appears unintentionally dark. In 2-cycle mode, TEX0 actually refers to TEX1, and TEX1 refers to the next pixel of TEX0. This introduces more unintended visual nonsense so you've gotta be careful how you're storing and recalling your textures. By far the worst thing I've run into concerns sign-extension. The fixed formula for the CC is as follows:

(A - B) * C + D

Slots A, B, and D all have a special 9-bit sign extension for arithmetic, whereas slot C does not. Why? Who knows! This makes slot C more prone to overflow/underflow, and of fucking course it's in the multiplication slot!! If you're using 2-cycle mode, then you really want to avoid using the result of cycle 1 in slot C of cycle 2, as it's much easier for wacky nonsense to occur.

This was something I ran into when configuring my first custom CC setup! Left is intended, right was my initial result with COMB in slot C of cycle 2. The idea was to take a black and white intensity texture, use vertex color for white, and multiply that by a chosen primitive color for black. This quirk was a pain in the ass to discover!! But luckily it was trivial to fix given what I was going for. You might not always be so lucky tho!! :D Anyway that's most of what I've got, but there's a lot more quirkiness with the RDP that's documented over on N64brew, v v good resource. The N64 is a pain in the ass to work with, but I love this stupid console so much I will go thru hell just to make things on it but uhhhh yeah thanks for listening to the dump!! btw i've yet to find someone that can beat me at diddy kong racing. i have a reward for u if u can manage to pull it off tho. it's a secret, but for listening to me infodump lemme let u in on a little secret: the reward is kissing u. with tongue

[joycew-art]

Hey there! I absolutely love your art!

Do you have any tips for new artists on where to start?

I can do some simple line art as long as I have references, but it’s very stiff and the colors are flat. I can only hope to be as amazing as you someday! 💙

Thank you so much, that is so kind of you! That's a very broad question, but I'll try to explain my process in this to the best of my ability.

First, just find the subject you really want to draw. Wither it's characters, environments, objects, it doesn't matter, grab your interest and go crazy with it! Doesn't matter if you draw it 10 times, a 100 times or a 1000 times. The most important thing is to have fun, cause if you have fun it's always much easier to want to try new things!

So, for example, if you really love drawing a certain character, draw them a lot to get familiar with them. Look up a lot of references. Not just from their original media, I tend to look up fanart as well, to get inspiration of how to stylize the character you're drawing. Maybe there's a certain way you love how they color, or how they draw the eyes, or do the lineart, etc. Trying to copy or trace them can be a very good study, but of course you shouldn't claim those pieces as your own.

It's important to just learn one thing at the time tho! If you jump from one subject to the other it's harder to remember the things you've learned. Of course if you get stuck, it's also fine to move on for a bit. Sometimes a thing won't click until later. There are many tutorials out there and many ways to learn the same thing, but not all of them work for me either. It's up to preference.

The way I learn new things is by doing this;

I analyze my own drawing and compare it to the references I got.

I find the problem, for example the hands. (sometimes it can be multiple things, so then you pick the one you want to fix the most).

I then google 'how to draw hands'. I also try other websites like Youtube or Pinterest, you don't always get the same results.

I also look up references of hands, like photographs or images from media I like (recently I screenshotted hands from the manga Bleach, cause I love how the author draws them).

I then follow the tutorials that I found, sometimes mimicking exactly what they do, sometimes I only copy the parts I am most struggling with.

I use that new knowledge trying to copy the hands from the references I've saved.

If you feel like you've got enough of a hand (pun unintended) on the subject, then I try to apply it to my own art.

Most often I actually learn new things while making big, complicated art pieces. Like, when I drew my Toxic Rick piece last year I had to google how to draw slime textures, since I've never done that before. And it's not really a subject matter I normally stumble into. Sometimes I go through the whole process I described above, but sometimes I can apply it immediately. It kinda differs from situation to situation.

And just start learning the thing that interests you the most right now! I always put off backgrounds in the past and forcing to learn them while I didn't want to never gave great results for me. It wasn't until recent years that I finally got interested in drawing them and then learning to draw them went much easier.

___________________

There's one tip that might help with stiff lineart; gesture drawing! For a long time I've had the problem where my poses felt very stiff as well and gesture drawings really helped for me. Actually this video has almost the same workflow as I have; gesture first, then the structure, then the lines.

Of course, look up many tutorials of gesture drawing, there might be one out there for you that will work even better!

___________________

For the flat colors, it might help to focus on values instead. What I mean with that is to look at your drawings in black and white.

I always check my values by adding a gray layer above my whole drawing and put it to 'color' mode. I just switch that one on and off whenever I need to check my values.

Here's an example video where they explain what values are. They talk quite fast, but the video has subtitles.

Of course if this video doesn't help, you can always try to google for more. There are many videos like this out there!

Perhaps you can try the process above to find the answers you need?

Good luck on your art journey! I'm very flattered that my art is something you want to strive to. Be patient and kind to yourself, you'll get there! :)

[lampmanliveblogs]

The voice acting in this episode has been great as per usual, but the acting for The Collector has been especially notably good to me. So kudos to Fryda Wolff.

And as an aside, Fryda Wolff is one of those names that if I were to write it in a book, my editor would tell me to dial it down a bit.

The last light of Luz drifts up and into the dark night sky, silently flying into the great empty cosmos, that ever expansive final frontier… except it winds up in the realm between realms… where we know the soul of a certain individual resides.

There she is! There she is, oh, I knew they wouldn’t kill her off for real! Nice try Philip, you jackass. Next time, bring in your A game!

Well… I mean… her body was rotted away and exploded into light…… so I guess she’s technically dead… but her soul remains…… this better not be like in the Engelsfors Trilogy, when it turned out Elias, Rebecka, and Ida were all still alive, their souls stuck in the borderlands between worlds, kept there by the Protectors so they could help close the portal and stop the demons… but then their souls moved on to whatever comes after and they died for real. This better not be that.

Oh, and spoilers for the Engelsfors Trilogy I guess, a series of books none of you were ever going to read, no matter how many times I reference them.

Also, Luz is sinking into the water… that… creates an unintended parallel with something I’m planning on doing with that Vee fic I’ve been writing. Spoilers: Vee is going for an involuntary bath.

”Oh… I know what I should have said. I should’ve thanked them.”

Ah, I see dead people also have that thing where you come up with the perfect thing to say three days later in the shower. Or bath, in this case. Not since Luz complained about her weak nerd arms have I related to her this much.

And yes, I am using humor to cope.

Aw shit, here we go! It’s him, the big man himself! And…he’s wearing… a… is that a dressing gown? I mean… yeah, if I was gonna be stuck for who knows how long in a bizarre world between worlds, I would wanna be comfy as well.

And I noticed this when I paused to take the screenshot: that’s an ice glyph on his leg/pants.

Ohmygod, look guys! IT’S LORD HOOTY! Ha! I knew it! I knew I did the right thing when I started the religion worshipping the great Lord Hooty! Hoot hoot!

[sweet-star-cookie]

ayup, question time!!

what can you tell me about solaris and lunaris? how are they relevant to the astral plane? and most importantly, you mentioned that they're a part of the chinese zodiac. are there any other chinese zodiacs besides the dragons? (the dragons look sick btw absolutely amazing)

looking forward to the onslaught of words!! /pos

Yaaaaay dragons, my favourite! And during the Year of the Dragon no less :D

Firstly, thank you very much for the compliment about their designs! I’ll be doing some design tweaks for them this year so stay tuned for that :’D You likely already saw the head drawings of both dragons but I’ll put them here again anyway.

In terms of their association with the Chinese zodiac, they take the form of whatever animal matches the year in the zodiac, and thus will transform together annually. I haven’t drawn all of the forms yet, as only a few of them appear in the main/side stories themselves, but here are the ones I’ve drawn so far (not to scale with one another)

They are capable of transforming individually should they ever be separated or one be hindered somehow during the annual switch, but only if absolutely necessary. They also cannot take any form that does not correspond with the current year. Each form is equivalent in power (as in they can wield their full power regardless of form) but their respective size varies depending on the animal. Even their smallest forms, however, are still significantly larger than their real-life counterparts. Their rat forms are not the size of actual rats, for instance.

They are considered two halves of the same whole, one cannot exist without the other and they share both their power and their pain. If one were to be injured, so would the other. They are at their most powerful when they are together, which is why Lunaris’s power is greatly diminished during the main story (more on this later). Collectively they are referred to as the Solunar Spirits (they/it pronouns), and their power makes them god-like to many on the Astral Plane.

As mentioned previously, they are the entities that gave the zodiac their elemental powers; Solaris gave earth and fire, and Lunaris gave water and air. They too wield their respective elements, and while the power level is still the same between forms, the “danger” of each one varies on the animal form they take and their size. As in, it’s usually a lot more intimidating to face them when they’re dragons or tigers rather than when they’re rabbits or rats, but you still don’t want to mess with them! They appear as dragons in the main story, and this form is the largest of them.

Notably, and unlike the constellations, they do not possess Light magic. This led some to believe that they would be immune to the corruption of Void magic, but Scorpio’s unintended corruption of his water magic proved this to be false. Despite their immense power, they too fear Void magic and the Voidlands as a whole, but the full extent of the reasons why are still unclear. Though the Solunar Spirits are sentient (as in capable of feeling and expressing emotion), they cannot communicate outside of whatever sounds their animal forms can make. They can understand speech, which is how Cassie is able to calm Lunaris at one point, but it can be otherwise difficult to find ways to calm them down if they start getting erratic or get any information out of them as to why.

It is also not entirely clear why they chose to give the zodiac their elemental power, and this mystery is ultimately what brought the zodiac closer together as a result, as they (eventually) agree to band together and use this power to protect the other constellations on the Astral Plane. Based on their own interpretation, the zodiac believes that getting this power was a way to augment their current abilities with Light magic, as many of the zodiac use both simultaneously in combat or otherwise. What this increased power is supposed to do is still somewhat unclear, and this extends to the Starglass as well.

At first, when Ophiuchus received the Sun Starglass, the zodiac believed that this was Solaris’s way to augment Ophi’s healing abilities, as the situation had gotten a lot more dire and he was one of the best spirits to help with that. That is until Lunaris sent the Moon Starglass to Earth sometime later, which only generated more confusion.

After things went awry with Ophiuchus, Solaris tried to stop him, and seemed to disappear alongside him. This caused the earth and fire signs to lose their elemental magic, but Lunaris and the water/air magic remained, leading to speculation that Solaris was not truly gone. Where it (and by extension Ophiuchus) ended up is one of the mysteries to be solved during the main story.

Though Lunaris remains, they now appear to be chained to something, and have suffered a great power loss. Thus, they retreat into the Solunar Spire (a large tower-like building where both usually reside) and fall into a deep sleep. No one is able to enter the spire at this point, not even the signs who share Lunaris’s power.

When Cassie first summons her sword, this reawakens Lunaris and she is taken inside the Spire, but Lunaris’s chains are not broken. Luckily for Cassie, this allows her to escape the dragon in time! Though it’s somewhat old at this point (2020 I think?) I made this painting with this part of the story in mind.

[pine-niidles]

Looking Back on 2023

Heyyy folks! Long time no news from me huh. 

I'm struggling to think of what to even say about my silence. I've not been doing so bad I'd call myself depressed, but I'm doing a tad worse than just a slump. It's been a rough 6 months, not because of one big thing. Instead, a bunch of medium-sized reasons all piled up on top of each other to leave me extremely drained. I've mostly been working on the two commissions I still had in my queue (thank you to my commissioners for being so patient with me, I'm so sorry to make you wait so long <3). I've done a little personal art other than that but didn't have the leftover focus to keep up with sharing it on social media or writing up any updates about my situation. I've pretty much only been active sharing things in my art discord. I'd like to say I've been doing better in the last month or so, but I hesitate to make any promises at this point! We'll just have to see how things go :)

Artfight

So you were promised a more in depth artfight review but I think I missed the right timeframe for that... instead have this look at 3 years of unfinished artfight thumbnails from my new year's wip clean-out!

Year of Art Summary

All things considered I made a lot of art this year, and I'm really happy with how most of it turned out ☺ I did a bunch of experimenting with more playful techniques and color schemes and I think they suit my style a lot. I want to try and much those limits even more next year to see what kind of fun art I can create! Something with colors specifically really clicked in my brain after that witch drawing I did in April, before then I would spend a long time figuring out the perfect color scheme and doing a bunch of adjustments but ever since that drawing things have really been coming together super quick? I'm not sure what changed but no complaints from me. 

Life Drawing Summary 

I rarely post my life drawing but I've been keeping at it! Actually, I put together a few pdfs showcasing all my life drawing going back to 2022, you can download them for free in my itch or ko-fi shops! :>

I also put together a yearly art improvement comparison going back to 2015 that I was planning to put here. However, seeing how long this is already getting... I'll make a separate post for it.

Commissions

I've been gearing up to open commissions again after that unintended hiatus. I don't want to open slots until I'm sure I'm back to being able to finish them in a reasonable timeframe, so I've been using that leftover energy I do have to think about revamping some things and new styles to offer. Back in November I ran a survey on what people want to see from me (it's still open if you'd like to fill it out and help me get more stats!) 

here's a preview of what's to come based on that & my whims:

- stamp commissions were super well received so they'll be added to my main repertoire

- A combo of me reading too much dun meshi and wanting to offer some kind of comicky commissions led to this idea of comic pages of characters eating together, I have a couple examples in progress, when they're done I'll add this style to my main offerings!

- I'm still not 100% set on sketchpages but I like the idea of them so if this test goes well I'll add them as an option

Onward to 2024! 

I already completed my new year's resolution on day 1 of 2024, it was to pet a cat. I've made a second one which is to get a library card whenever my visa is approved and I move back home. It's been something I've been wanting to do for a while but never got around to, hoping this will be the excuse I need to do it.

Art-wise it's not a new goal, but I've been trying to focus on improving my rendering! Though I've also been playing around a lot with screentone... the two don't have to be at odds 🤔 

I'm dedicating this year's personal art time to making new references for as many ocs as possible with nude bases so I can easily design new outfits for them whenever I want to without fully making a new ref from scratch.

Otherwise I'm just trying to take it slow, work on things one at a time and see what happens from there.

[matan4il]

I just realized that the mirrored scenes of the camp talk and content ultra dad mode vs the distracted Chris secret conversation both happen with someone from Bucks past coming back. The first being Abby the ladder Connor with a weird request.

It's probably nothing and not meant to mean anything but I find it comical that even when unintended Buddie has a pattern

Also sort of wild that when a perceived love came back, Buck was at peak happiness if you will. That time frame was my favorite for Buddie. He just addressed her with hurt and confused regard IMHO. Even if he was unaware of it at the time he was happy to walk back to his new family.

This time years later, therapy under his belt, and having successfully left a relationship. He is more unhappy then ever and it's because also just IMHO the Buddie relationship never fully righted to their pre Anna model but also didn't continue to the natural dating it would have had Anna not come along. Although without Anna we may never had got an Eddie gay panic attack storyline.

Hi Nonnie! Thank you for this lovely ask! ^u^

I think the interesting thing about unintentional parallels in writing is that they arise from something in the subconscious mind of writers being at work. Meaning that if you have a certain notion about a character/relationship, even if you don't think up a specific parallel intentionally, in order to express the notion, you'll find yourself revisiting similar themes, even similar words and phrases. And that's gonna give rise to parallels that might not be intended, but are still meaningful, precisely because they reveal something about the character/relationship. That's why we all go so mad over parallels, don't we? 'Coz we intuitively feel the repetition points to significance.

Which is to say, yes! There is meaning here as well. Both characters from Buck's past come back to shake him up and make him question where he is in life, what he has and what he wants. In one case, the conversation about Christopher's camp in 318 plays out to demonstrate what Buck has in his life even before he gets to the point of questioning it, but we as viewers can correctly read it 'coz we've seen Abby on the train and we know she's about to run into him. In contrast, in 604 he runs into Connor before Eddie notices his silence in regards to Chris, so Buck being uncharacteristically absent as Christopher's co-parent points to him already questioning some major things about his life.

I personally think that Buddie did go back to how things were before Ana, maybe even closer (see my 601 meta on why I think the kitchen scene there shows that), but I do think the closer they get, the harder it is not to be together. It's like I said in this ask reply, an 'almost' can ache so much more than 'nothing'. The closer they get without acknowledging that their feelings aren't strictly platonic, the harder it's going to get for them. Which I think is a very similar notion to what you were saying? They're caught in the "in between" and there's no harder place to be in, you become more aware of what you miss the closer you are to your destination, being able to sense its proximity, but not being close enough yet to see or touch it. Which is exactly what makes Buck aware enough that he said in 403 already that he's fine, he just wants to be finer. He was on his way, both our boys are on their way, they just took a small detour in the shape of Ana and Taylor (*insert infamous reference to Buddie's talk about construction on Sunset in 408 here*), and sometimes detours are needed when the journey is a complex, challenging one...

I hope you have a great day, lovely! And here is my ask tag! xoxox