#the endless pit of theories and speculation

[oneknightlight]

Realizing the reason that content like UTDR is like crack to me is because Toby Fox has written a story that my brain’s pattern recognition literally cannot crack and that challenge is diabolically addicting

[cinderflower]

Hello! I really enjoy your Lothric and Lorian works on AO3. There’s this theory that I’ve been a little obsessed with since I saw it. The theory is that Lothric tried to pass down or share his curse with the Curse Rotted Greatwood. I’m not quite sure how popular the theory is or how much in game information there is to back it up, but it’s something I find very interesting. Every time I fight the Curse Rotted Greatwood again or listen to the song I always think of Lothric now since the hand looks just like his! I just wanted to know your thoughts on this theory since in your works you always have an amazing grasp of the world and characters. Thank you and I love your writing!

First of all, thank you so much that means a lot!! <3 As for your question, I had to go back and dust off my old notes from when I was writing RM because I actually thought about the CRG a lot but ultimately ended up not using it based on my interpretation. But I think it's a very fascinating theory!

This answer did get away from me a little bit (or maybe a lot a bit) so I'm going to put it under a cut:

The main thing that I found fascinating about CRG is also the thing that I couldn't quite puzzle my way around and caused me to ultimately avoid mentioning it entirely - which is what exactly is considered a curse and how was the spirit tree used to handle it. There are two really great in-game descriptions that I found to try and explain it. For the first, what is considered a curse, I took a look at one of the items you can transpose from the CRG soul - Arstor's Spear. The weapon description is: "One of the curses that festered within the belly of the Greatwood, and a terrible weapon favored by Earl Arstor the Impaler. The spear is enwreathed in rotten, heavily poisonous meat." So, by that description, the curse is the spear itself. What exactly caused the spear to be cursed though? Was it the brutal nature in which it was used? Or is it due to the "meat" that's coating the spear? I'm tempted to think it's the latter, but it could just as well be the former. Either way, what the description does confirm is that the spear wasn't "cleansed" it was just put in the spirit tree, which ties into the next lore puzzle piece. How was the spirit tree used to handle curses? Given the spear description, the curse/cursed item was simply stored away so it couldn't cause more harm. This seems to be backed up by the CRG description: "Ever since its establishment, all manner of curses have managed to seep into the Undead Settlement. The worst of them were sealed away inside a spirit tree, but eventually the curses took their toll." Based on that logic, my thought was that the only way to use the spirit tree for curses was to put the cursed item - or person - into the spirit tree itself. I think this is also supported to some extent by the concept art:

Based on what we can see, it looks like the CRG certainly contains a lot of hollows as "buds", and even during the fight we see the CRG shake endless hollow out of it. I always found the extra limb growing out to be very reminiscent of the infected corpses & corpse grubs you can find in the Cathedral of the Deep:

To be so drastically affected though, I think it would take a lot more than a handful of hollows - and this is where I think the Mound Maker's presence comes into play given their pit of hollows was directly below the spirit tree, and the tree's root system was directly connected to it. Presumably this meant the CRG also "absorbed" a lot of hollows through its roots. (I have many more thoughts / speculations about the Mound Makers, Evangelists, and the Undead Settlement, but I'll spare you those details) Given everything above, my interpretation was that the CRG was not afflicted by just any curses but specifically the "undead curse" that afflicts the hollows, and it transformed the spirit tree in a similar way that the parasitic maggots infected and overtook the corpses at the Cathedral & also how the undead curse affects hollows - it looks dead and yet it is clearly still alive in some capacity though more as a husk. Now from a Lothric perspective specifically, given the above and as much as I like to play with the idea of Lothric taking excursions beyond the castle walls (and also give him more mobility than he likely has for the sake of Plot), I think it's actually pretty unrealistic he ever got to leave due to his health and his status. I do think he undoubtedly heard of it and was likely intrigued by the spirit tree's supposed capabilities to handle curses and how he might be able to use it for his own situation, but never got an opportunity to act upon it. But, then again, my whole analysis above is all from my own interpretation - who's to say Lothric didn't get a chance to leave the castle and try some new unproven method to use the tree to cleanse his curse? The undead settlement was clearly connected to the high wall at some point based on the carriages afer all. Or maybe when he was born and everyone realized how bad the curse was and how it was impacting Lothric's health & future potential as Lord of Cinder, maybe Oceiros & others took him to the spirit tree and put him inside to try and "cleanse" him, ultimately leading to the corruption. We don't have any confirmation one way or another, so just because I may interpret it one way doesn't mean another interpretation couldn't also be just as likely! After all, isn't this the fun of souls lore? All we get is the environmental details, a handful of item descriptions, and then we just have to take a leap of a whole lot of speculation. Everyone's theories are always slightly different too, which I adore! Sorry if this wasn't quite the answer you were looking for, and that this was MUCH longer than I intended it to be - I just love souls lore speculation so thank you for the ask 😊

[random-french-girl]

Happy birthday hope you have a great day!

A question, If they girls get separated in groups (because Sarah said we aren't going to see them together all the time like on s1) who do you think will go with who and why

Thank you!! Great day so far <3

That's such a fun question and a fun thing to speculate about for season 2!

So obviously we're all wondering if the reason they split is because Leah is going to tell the group what she knows about Nora. Although we don’t know for sure that there’s going to be two groups (maybe the writers just mean that Nora won’t be on the island, for example), or that a split would necessarily be related to the Leah VS Nora beef. Still, a few thoughts:

1) SOMEONE IS IN EXILE. As in: it's not a group split so much as one person gets cast out - maybe temporarily? maybe permanently? The obvious candidates are 1) Nora, if the group believes Leah ; 2) Leah, if the group doesn't believe her. Not sure how likely that would be, but it would definitely provide us with some fun material, not only because we'd get to follow one character on her own, but also because we would get all the other characters' reactions. Who was in favor of the exile, who was outvoted? Who is secretly meeting with the exiled character like some sort of romance novel protagonist? (Fatin, I'm looking at you directly.) Who is leaving food or resources in the woods for them, unbeknown to the group? (Martha? Rachel? Dot?) The possibilities for group conflict and dramatic reunions are ENDLESS.

2) AN EVEN SPLIT. The group actually splits in even halves, because of an irreconcilable difference of opinions. If this follows Leah's revelations re:Nora, I'm thinking:

- Fatin follows Leah, Dot follows Fatin. Fatin is Leah's closest ally on the island, the one person who's been listening to her suspicions, and I can't see Fatin NOT taking Leah's side in an argument. Even if she's not completely convinced that Leah is Right, she's too loyal, and she'd want to take care of Leah. I don't think Dot would be convinced without hard evidence (the pit might not be enough), but I think she likes Fatin the most, and she'd feel obligated to join them so Fatin and Leah don't, like, die on their own. Could lead to Dot feeling resentful/angry that the group split in the first place, which would be an interesting direction for her.

- Under normal circumstances, Rachel at the end of season one would for sure take Nora's side. But Rachel suffering from accidental amputation might not be in a state to make any decision, or might make a drastically different choice than what we expect? I’m leaning towards Nora, but who knows?

- Toni, Martha and Shelby are smack in the middle, and I think this trio is going to get split up in the event of a disagreement. Of the three, Toni is definitely the most suspicious, so I could see her siding with Leah, even though so far she has shown zero interest in any of Leah's conspiracy theories. On the other hand, Toni is loyal, and Shelby has been a target of Leah's outbursts. I can see a scenario where Shelby doesn't believe Leah (the little girl who cried wolf...) and Toni stands with Shelby. As for Martha, she hates conflict, so I'd tentatively put her in the Nora camp?

- An interesting split, imo, would be: Fatin, Dot, Leah, Toni VS Nora, Rachel, Shelby, Martha. OR switch Toni and Rachel, for an even spicier sisterly divide.

3) FULL DISPERSAL. What if the group doesn't split in two neat halves, but in many different trios or duos? What if whatever happens completely shatters the Unsinkable Eight? Now I'm imagining each original duo claiming a little piece of island to themselves and trying to survive on their own, and there'd be a whole system of trade or alliances... Fatin claims the waterfall for her and Leah, but she allows Dot and Shelby access, in exchange for goat meat or something, etc. That would just be the girls playing a real-life version of Risk. Which: fascinating to ponder over, but a bit unrealistic, unmanageable., production wise.

Ok I’ll stop there, this already got way too long. So many fun possibilities!

[stopeatingwhales]

just friends x damon albarn

omg this is my first anon request! i really really REALLY loved this one, so thank you to the person who requested it! x

Paring: parklife damon x reader 

Warnings: nothing at all :)

Word count: 2.221

Requested by anon <3

༉‧₊˚✧

There’s this whole illusion that working as a manager for a band is the greatest thing ever. Yes, it does have its perks like living on the road for a few months, travelling the world - although that gets extremely exhausting, and not only for me, but for everyone - but it's filled up to the brim with shelves of endless paperwork and countless meetings everyday. Not just that, but having to go to band recordings at least 2 times a week. I did enjoy them, but when your only power source is 3 cups of coffee and a chocolate bar, things start to get tiring. Evidently, being so worked up and stressed out, I had always pondered why out of all career choices, I had picked this specific one. The fantasy of working for a band and having power to be the decision-maker for most things had gotten to me; doesn’t everyone crave at least some sort of power in their lives?  

I was working for a band called Blur. I first started working for them early last year, a couple months before their release of their effortlessly amazing album Modern Life Is Rubbish. They decided to drop their old label, along with their previous manager, saying they were too ‘controlling’ and that they wanted to create a sound which pitched more into them as people. The band consisted of Damon Albarn, the gorgeous front-man, Graham Coxon, the man with immaculate skill on guitar, Alex James, the very tall and lovely bass player, and Dave Rowntree, the multi-talented drummer. This band had more to it than writing meaningful songs and catchy melodies. They meant something to me. 

Over the year and a half we’ve been co-workers, I have managed to establish a very close connection with the four boys. They understood my situation, having to always be present, even at times when I’m aching for a break, a holiday, a layoff. One of the reasons I held onto my job so dearly was because of them. There were times where I had been interrupted pouring my heart and soul with tears on my office floor, interrupted by them. They were all supportive; I had been through hell with bad, toxic relationships, my heart continuously feeling lonely and contaminated with the workloads I was given every dying hour. I was able to talk to them about it all, I was able to trust them at times when I felt that no one was there. Especially Damon. 

Out of all of the guys, I was closest to Damon. I wondered whether it was because we related a lot, us both having our mental struggles, but were able to try and find the good in things - attempting to enjoy our late nights as a group, or solo. Sometimes after performances, he would scan the room, a towel lousily gripped in his right hand, the other playing with the broad belt circling his jeans. His eyes would land immediately on mine, catching my lips, rounded in a small smile, my hands tied together in a grasp, preparing myself to softly clap at him for his usual exquisite performance. His eyes would squint at me, his nose scrunched up to the bridge of his perfected nose, his reciprocated beam casually showing some of his front teeth as he bit his lip in consumption, and anticipation for the night ahead of him - with me. 

A while back, I had to attend a photoshoot the boys were doing for a magazine cover. Rolling Stone maybe? I can’t recall. However, I remember my eyes never managing to leave Damon. His foolproof self never failed to bewilder me. His excellent jawline, the way his eyes shone a deadly stare at the camera, making anyone, even the photographer, blush at his inborn beauty. Graham noticed me, but I never shifted my stare, only when Damon made eye contact with me after due to Graham’s nudge, in which I glared at the ground in enmity - my ears perking out, hearing all the small giggles and small remarks at how I’m checking him out. 

“Aw, look at her, she’s gone red,” Alex teased, I felt the eyes of them all carving words on my body.

“Stop guys, just drop it,” Damon answered sternly, defending me. The boys rolled their eyes as they continued doing some more shoots, occasionally switching positions. 

His bandmates always speculated there was something going on between us, whether it be that we’re friends-with-benefits or we’re secretly dating from fear of paparazzi. Regardless, we always denied their child-like theories. We were just friends. Even if I thought time and time again that this isn’t how friends act, we were just friends. 

It reminded me of a vivid memory: the second pit stop on the journey to France on the Parklife tour. It was around 5 in the morning, we were all awake - due to our excessive drinking and non-stop chattering all night - and the guys were desperate to get out for some fresh air. Unless you were Alex, who had to throw up around two to three times because of the exceptional amounts of whiskey he downed during a game of truth or dare. Me and Damon were the only ones who hadn’t exited the bus, my drowsy eyes and limp body were giving me more pointers to relax and sleep on the sofa rather than let my stomach give out and be sick like Alex was. 

Damon was in the bathroom as I was trying to adjust my leg positioning on the small sofa fixated in the middle of the bus. I stared up to the ceiling, a dozen hazy thoughts flooding my mind every second. Hearing the sound of the door unlock, the bathroom door to be exact, rang through my ears as the small thuds of Damon’s feet pattered by - getting louder and louder due to him approaching tonight’s sleeping spot. The rough, worn down sofa. 

“You alright?” his raspy voice asked, causing a tired smile to curve onto my lip. I loved hearing his voice hoarse and gravelly, whether it being from the early mornings we had to get up to do sound checks at an arena, or after he had drunk too many shots like the rest of us, it always intoxicated my ear drums. It’s like when you try a sweet that your friend gave to you for the first time because she had a brimmed bag of them, and the taste so sweet but sour it coated your tongue so scornfully, you begged and craved for more.

“Yeah, just tired perhaps,” I stretched, shifting my gaze from the ceiling to Damon, standing there as if a war was going on inside his head. “Are you alright, Damon?”

Snapping out of his thoughts, he blinked a few times, scratching his head roughly. “Yeah… Do you want to bunk with me tonight? You having to always sleep on the couch is kind of… Shitty,” he stammered, not knowing where to put his hands.

I sat up on the couch, my hands tied to either side of my body. The same, drained beam was splattered on my face, nodding slowly. “I would love that,” I stated, watching him reciprocate my smile onto his adorning features. “You’re going to have to help me up there though, I feel like I’m about to drop,” 

He laughed lightly, grabbing my arm and lifting me up from the settee. Guiding me to his bunk, I leaned on his body, my own being too exhausted to cooperate with me at this time. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” he said, carrying my body to the bunk. As I laid in the bed, I inhaled the smell. The bed smelt of him. It had an aroma of worn down cologne, hooked with a scent of red wine - he carried a flavor that any woman would cling onto his arms and never let go. Watching him climb into the bed with me, was all a dream come true. 

~~~

We were currently in a recording session; Graham had mentioned that there was this new melody he had created, and wanted to show the rest of the band, hoping they’d find ways to add it into a new song of some sort. I was sitting at the back, by the exit door on the scruffy red couch, staring at the producer talking to Alex as he began to play a bassline he had formed on the spot. It had potential, the whole song did. The way that after a mere show of Graham’s guitar abilities, they were able to brainstorm ideas for a brand-new track on an album that hadn’t been created yet. Damon had some old lyrics written down from when he was on the road on their previous tour, so he had decided to use them on this event. Everything pieced together gracefully, my admiration for the entire band as a whole seemed to grow every single time I was able to peacefully watch them create another one of their artworks. 

“All right, Damon are you ready to record some vocals?” The producer asked, turning around in his swivel chair to make eye contact with Damon. He nodded, firmly grabbing onto his lyric sheet, licking his lips in anticipation as he stepped into the second room. 

As Alex left the other room, he came and took a seat next to me. Graham was talking to Dave, thinking of things they could include into the melody. I stretched my arms out dearly, avoiding hitting Alex, who was staring at me. I smiled at him, trying to initiate a conversation. “Good bassline you got there,” 

He chuckled nonchalantly, “That’s what I do,” 

Rolling my eyes at his sly remark, we began talking about the apprehension for a new album this year. “After this, we’ll all be inspired to write more stuff, so we’re bound to create a new album, even if we literally just got off tour,” he chirped as I nodded my head slowly, the sounds of Damon’s voice deafening me in the most alluring ways.

“He’s looking at you,” Alex added, nudging my arm, detaching me from my stance.

Confused, I swiftly turned my head to look at Damon, catching his eyes in mine. Even though he was far, three or four metres away perhaps, I was still able to study his wondrous, captivating blue orbs that I had grown so deeply mesmerised of. I began blushing lightly, feeling the throb of the blood rushing to my cheeks, as I bit my lip and looked down - once again. 

“Perfect, Damon, thanks for that,” the producer said, signalling for Damon to exit the room. He smiled and nodded, briskly walking out of the room. He grabbed his water bottle placed on an unused amp, taking a couple gulps from it before welcoming the repetitive comments. 

“Come on mate, if you’re gonna at least try and hide the fact you like Y/n, you should at least stare at times where we’re all looking at you,” Alex teased, his eyebrows raised in amusement. “And don’t try to deny you like her, when it’s so fucking obvious, mate,” 

“I mean he did sa-” Graham began, but instantly cut himself off as the realisation washed over him about what he was about to say. My eyes widened at his comment, almost immediately turning to look over to him, Graham, who was avoiding his eyes at me. 

“Seriously Graham?” I heard Dave mumble, my stare too consumed by the tiny rips on the couch arm. 

“I’m gonna go... To the toilet,” I lied, my mind overwhelmed over the situation. What was Graham going to say?

Countless things and speculations raced my mind as I stood outside the studio door, my head beginning to hurt as the situation replayed in my head. I leant against the cold wall, shutting my eyes in an attempt to recollect myself. It didn’t mean anything right? 

As if on cue however, the door opened, a gush of air brushing past me. Opening my eyes, I was welcomed to the sight of Damon, anxiously standing in front of me. “There’s something I need to tell you, but you can’t get angry and leave after I say it, okay?” he rushed, walking away from the door and to the wall beside me. Nodding, I chewed on my top lip, fear painting my face all over. “I… I love you, Y/n, and I have for, god knows how long.”

Once those words escaped his mouth, I felt my heart drop. After the continuous ‘we’re just friends’ speeches, I realise it was all false. I knew the way we acted towards each other was more than friends. More than best friends. We both liked each other, for a really long fucking time. 

“Thank fuck,” I answered, grabbing his neck and kissing him. His lips tasted sweet, the softness of his mouth due to the lip balm he had put on at the start of the session made me want to fasten my lips around his mouth and put the world on hold. I wanted to stay like this, forever.

Pulling away, our previous frowns had formed into smiles. I smiled so wide my face began to hurt, my heart feeling like it exploded after hitting the ground, like a firework on new years eve. “I love you too,”

[teaxch]

Lembaceton, the Watched Plane

Lembaceton is a plane overseen by eight magisters (also called auspices, and a variety of other names), powerful and ancient artifacts whose influence pervades the plane. They are all considered to be machines, even though only a minority of them resemble or operate like machines in any traditional sense. All are so esoteric that their functions cannot be completely discerned from their forms, but the residents have ideas about what each does. Some of these ideas might even be correct. Each of the five lesser magisters has many names; a sample of those names are given here, with the first name given being the one most commonly used by the common folk living in Lembaceton’s largest cities. The greater magisters have one name each.

The Bright; The Effulgent Scratch; The Line; The Window; Sister Euphotonic 

Lembaceton has no sun. Illumination is provided by The Bright, a razor thin and intensely luminous line of light that stretches from horizon to horizon, sweeping across the sky from dawn to dusk. Of the Lesser Magisters, the Bright is perhaps the least well-understood. While it is visible from anywhere on the plane, its location in the upper atmosphere means that it is difficult to study. Angels (called the Ehoachim, or Second Children of the Bright) seem to discourage looking into the device too closely. Generally, most residents of Lembaceton accept that the purpose of the Bright is simply to provide light to the world.

The light emanating from the Bright is intensely directional, providing Lembaceton with a day-night cycle that mimics that of planes whose worlds orbit suns. Very close to Lembaceton’s poles, the Bright is always overhead, although these places are minimally trafficked by the world’s population - both are over the ocean. The nature of the Bright is such that Lembacedon has no seasons, and because the Bright is not the source of the world’s heat, nights are no colder than days. At the latitude where the Bottomless exists, the Bright appears to have a small gap in it. It is unclear what the relationship between the two magisters is that this is the case. The most popular theories are that the Bottomless has somehow damaged the Bright, that the Bright is designed to avoid illuminating the Bottomless, or that the gap is intended as a warning to help the plane’s residents avoid the Bottomless.

The Busy; The Allscribe; Sister Chronologic; Intaglio; The Lastwork

The Busy is among the smallest of the Lesser Magisters, being no larger than a city block, and reaching just a few stories above and below the surface. Of the magisters, it is the one most readily identifiable as a machine. The Busy endlessly produces a written record of everything - no matter how concealed or insignificant - that happens on the plane, as it occurs. It writes with tens of thousands of brushes that never run out of ink onto an endless supply of parchment. The Busy is less useful as a source of information than it might seem, as the logs it produces are completely unsorted except for by time, and any piece of information is quickly buried under other, newer information. While most residents of the plane think of the Busy as a scribe, recording things as they happen, a smaller number think it may be writing reality into being itself. A Sphinx named Young Io has served as the caretaker of The Busy for as long as anybody can remember, although it’s unclear what this role actually requires. He is happy to allow visitors to observe the magister, but if he knows anything about it, he isn’t telling. The twin riddles of the Busy are that, despite the fact that it doesn’t have enough brushes to truly be recording everything, it never seems to miss anything, and that, despite recording ceaselessly, it never fills itself up.

The Busy is located near the center of Lastsister City, the largest urban area on Lembaceton, although it is much older than the surrounding city. Several hundred meters of empty courtyard separate the magister from the surrounding buildings. While the accepted reason for this is deference to the magister, a more pragmatic motivation is that the Busy is so ceaselessly noisy that few people wish to live or work too close to it.

The Bottomless; Hungerhole; The Vast Quiet Nothing; The Unmachine; The Exit

The Bottomless is a dark, silent hole in the earth, several miles across and of apparently unlimited depth. Despite its status as a magister, the people of Lembaceton use The Bottomless for the rather ignoble purpose of refuse disposal. Any object lowered into the Bottomless disappears entirely, even if otherwise tethered. The Bottomless may be getting larger, but if it is, it is at least doing so very slowly. People who spend too much time near The Bottomless report nausea, mild amnesia, and a growing urge to hurl themselves into the pit.  Because of the dangers associated with doing so, approaching the Bottomless outside of official business involving it is considered suspicious - an indicator that somebody had something that they really, really needed to make disappear.

In some ways, its simplicity makes the Bottomless among the least mysterious of the magisters. Its capabilities are well-documented, and it is consistent in its behavior. It cannot meaningfully be said to have a specific depth, as anything that goes into it does not come out. Voyages to the other side of the planet confirm that there is nothing unusual there.

The demons that lurk near the Bottomless are rumored to have emerged from the pit, but even if that’s true, they’re no more immune to consumption by the pit than anything else is. Unlike the custodians of the other lesser magisters, the demons do not do anything that is obviously in the service of the Bottomless, and seem to be rather afraid of it. They do not eagerly communicate about it, and even when pressed do not seem to have any special knowledge of its nature.

The Beat; The Cardiac Engine; The Great Ticking Thing; Sister Syncopatic; Pseudarrhythmia

Towering above the mountains in the remotest regions of Lembaceton’s continent lies The Beat, a massive metronome-like object whose booming peal can be heard across the plane every three weeks or so. It is surrounded by numerous smaller objects, ticking away more rapidly. Of the lesser magisters, The Beat is among the most esoteric. It has no obvious function, which has only served to fuel speculation about what it might actually be for - if anything at all. Study of The Beat focuses heavily on the synchronization of the various devices, along with the belief that something significant will happen when they all tick at once. Mighty pulse dragons brood in its upper reaches, protecting the Beat with their powerful sonic breath weapons, but don’t seem to mind lesser creatures studying it as long as they do so respectfully.

Some of the lesser Beats are small enough that they can be transported around the plane, albeit with some difficulty, and their ticking hands can be brought to a halt if enough force is applied. Upon release, they resume ticking as before, and there do not seem to be any meaningful consequences for causing a lesser Beat to skip a beat. No force has been mustered that can alter the rhythm of the largest Beat’s ticking.

The Body; Lineage and Legacy; The Soma Root; The Old Pattern; Fundamentus

The Body is a massive web of filaments of a variety of materials that cover the landscape in a complex pattern and which is rooted into the ground to an unknown depth. Unlike the rest of the lesser magisters, whose true purposes (if they have any) are at least partially shrouded in mystery, everybody on the plane is certain that the roles of the Body are to hold the world together and to keep real things from being not-real. Nobody knows where this belief came from, but it is considered a basic fact about the world that is just common knowledge. 

Unlike the other lesser magisters, The Body does not seem to have any creatures that act as its custodian. It may have at one point in the past, or it may have a custodian that so defies expectations that it isn’t recognizable, but it is generally assumed that it simply does not need one. The Body is routinely damaged - it’s almost impossible to excavate or till the land without disturbing one of its filaments - but it simply grows back. While the Body spans the whole planet - even the depths of Lembaceton’s uninhabited, featureless ocean - its filaments are most dense near the center of the continent. The only places it avoids are those very close to the other terrestrial lesser magisters, the Busy, Bottomless, and Beat.

The Greater Magisters

The three greater magisters are much less well understood than even the most esoteric of the lesser magisters. The most familiar of them is the First, a two-meter-high five-sided obelisk at the center of Lembaceton’s single continent. Each of the First’s five faces depicts what is believed to be one of the five lesser magisters, although its image of the Busy does not resemble that magister as it currently appears. The Substitute is a massive, six-legged, centaur-like golem that slowly patrols the perimeter of the continent. Its body is composed of a stony substance not found elsewhere on the plane. Though its circuit takes thousands of days, its path is worn smooth by its passing. Some people believe the Substitute is a protector of some sort, but this is pure speculation; it neither reacts to no responds to anything. The Missing is by far the most mysterious of the magisters. Its form, purpose, and location are totally unknown.

Aside from the presence of the magisters, Lembaceton is largely unremarkable in the multiverse. Its population is approximately half human, with smaller populations of dwarves, kithkin, elves, centaurs, minotaurs, faeries, and ratfolk. While some towns and neighborhoods may have somewhat different compositions of species, for the most part all of the mortal inhabitants of the plane mingle freely. Lembaceton has a single continent, which has a single central government that is largely concerned with maintaining the continent’s infrastructure. The plane’s single saltwater ocean is completely devoid of life, save for some shallow-water plants. The idea that a creature could live underwater is not one that would even occur to the average citizen. Its rivers are similarly empty. The climate is uniformly temperate, and life is fairly comfortable.

The degree to which the magisters occupy the minds of the residents of Lembacedon vastly outstrips what would be expected given their actual level of impact on the day-to-day life of a typical person. Idle speculation about the magisters is a very common topic of conversation, even where the conversation has been had hundreds of times before. A career spent researching the magisters is considered a noble one, albeit one that is not open to most. Young Io is very conservative with the types of access he allows to the Busy, and with the exception of the Body, investigation of the other lesser magisters is hazardous. Not coincidentally, the Body is by far the most-studied, with everybody from archdruids down to young hobbyists attempting to make sense of it. Religious veneration of any of the magisters is a serious taboo. It is grounds for social ostracism if discovered, and is strongly - and often violently - discouraged by the custodians of the magisters.

[for-the-fel-of-it-blog]

Warcraft Demons

and Whether or not They can be the Bound Demon of a Demon Hunter;

Brought to you by the horde of people I need to constantly correct and fight over this with. No salt there are all! :) For context to be able to be a bound demon to an Illidari the creature must have a soul, an edible heart, drinkable blood and be able to be killed by a normal elf, armed only with hunting daggers.

Added note for Tumblr’s sake. I GM a guild called The Spectral Watch. That likely means nothing to most of you even in the RP world but to a select few on Argent Dawn, EU, it basically means I make DH lore. My guild is one of oldest Illidari RP guilds and, essentially, it’s the only Illidari guild on the realm who are still active and recruiting.

One of my discretions as GM is being able to decide who joins the guild and who does not. And we currently have a monopoly on Illidari RP. And I am a massive lore whore. I know my Demon Hunter lore back to front and while I am forgiving of newbies who merely don’t understand, I don’t have time for God Modders and Mary Sues. A lot of people will disagree with this list, or say certain ridiculously powerful Demons should be bound. Frankly I’m just calling them wrong.

And while I’m not Blizzard’s lore team (lol, as if they have a lore team) I am pretty much the face of DH RP on one of the biggest EU realms. So if you are European and want to RP a DH Alliance side, you will probably meet me at some point. And I will silently judge you if you’re bound to bloody Mannoroth. Anyway!

Disclaimer I apparently need to add; my presentation style is of smug prick. I am meant to look like an asshole via this writing style. The amount of people who are calling me out for it, despite me having already clarified this in a reblog, and having no prior engagement with my tiny RP blog is ridiculous. Literally only my six followers who know that I am being satirical and my RP buddies were meant to see it. I clarified this in a reblog everyone has universally ignored. Oh well! Be warned, from now those being needlessly rude will be blocked.

Abyssal;

They are constructs and lack a soul, therefore cannot be bound.

Annihilan (Pitlords);

Obviously not. They are massive, monsterbeast. They would absolutely crush you. They are among some of the most daunting Demons in the Legion’s ranks. There is no way you can be boud to these.

Antaen;

These things are so big Illidan and Velen mistook the head of one for a siege weapon. There is no way in hell you can be bound to these things.

Aranasi;

Yes… And no. Aransi broodmothers (the humanoids) are far too powerful to be a bound Demon… But broodlings (the spiders) are acceptable.

Bilescourge;

Bilescourge are pretty small creatures and not exactly the most powerful or intelligent, being almost batlike and bestial in nature. So in theory they could be bound but they are found only on Argus. Meaning in order to be bound to one, you would have to have been trained as an Illidari during the short months on Argus.

Darkhound;

Yes. They are considered a mere nuisence by the Forsaken in Tirisfall Glades and while their origin is unknown, they appeared shortly after the third war in Azeroth. Therefore, they would be viable for very early Demon Hunters, or those trained after the DHs were released by the Wardens. But those trained at the Black Temple might not have had them as an option, given they were stuck on Outland.

Doomguard;

Massive warriors who serve the Burning Legion with such passion, they are part of Archimonde’s personal escort and serve directly under Pitlords. They could not be bound.

Doomlord;

These are the most powerful Doomguards and are elite Commanders of the Legion. They cannot be bound.

Dreadsteeds;

Unlike Felsteeds, who are merely horses warped by great amounts of Fel energy, Dreadsteeds are Demons from the planet Xoroth. A fiery world where they are cultivated by Dreadlords. Despite being Demonic mounts of the Nathrezim, they are rather similiar to horses and are beast at their core. They could be bound.

Felbat;

The adults are massive and vicious, tearing seasoned warriors limb from limb… But youngsters and many and plentiful, and would be an easy kill for an Illidari initiate. The hatchlings can be bound.

Fel Beast;

Far too big and unyieldy to be easily killed armed with only daggers. Also made largely of stone and fire, so it is possible they’re actually constructs but it is not confirmed. They cannot be bound.

Felguard;

The base line soldiers of the Burning Legion and, interestingly, a type of Mo'arg. Could be bound.

Felhound;

Yes. This isn’t even speculation. This is the one Demon who, without a doubt, is confirmed as Vandel in the Illidan novel is bound to a Felhound. The one who killed his son, even.

Fel Imp;

More powerful than normal Imps, but still perfectly bindable.

Fiend (Terroguard, Fear Fiend, Terrorfiend);

No, no, no. Massive, powerful and easily able to bat you to the ends of the earth with those wings. These are off the menu.

Fel Lord;

An evolved type of Felguard, working in direct service to Archimonde. Toweringly large Demons. Unable to be bound. However an Illidari bound to a Felguard, who takes on enough Fel magic, could transform their bound demon and gain many of the aspects of a Fel Lord. At risk, of course, of the power being too much and being consumed.

Felstalker;

Similiar to Felhound’s but pack hunters instead of magic leeches. They’re a pretty solid yes for being able to be bound.

Gan'arg;

Stunted Mo'arg. Pretty small. Pesky little engineers. Could be bound.

Imp;

Yes. Do I need to explain why? They’re too small to be threatening, apart from in a pack… But Illidari bound to one take use of their cunning and magical affinity and are in constrast very dangerous.

Imp Mother;

No. The thing that spawns the Imps is powerful, believe it or not, is rather powerful and are much rarer. They cannot be bound.

Infernal;

Are constructs and lack a soul. Cannot be bound.

Inquisitor;

Are far too powerful. Gifted Fel casters and specialists in dark pacts, armed with their many eyes, these would be impossible to kill only with daggers. No.

Jailers;

Similiar to Inquisitors in many ways, aside from being armed with their cages that trap both body and soul instead. No.

Man'ari Eredar;

No. The forefront of the Legion, the backbone and poster children. Most certainly are off the list.

Mo'arg;

Some of the smartest Demons in the Burning Legion. They make up for what they lack in strength with brains. Servants of Sargeras, once, when he still belonged to the Pantheon. These could be bound. I used to say ‘no, they couldn’t’ due to their smarts and high tech weaponary but in retrospect, said feltech would likely be taken from them before the ritual and physically an Elf would outpower them without it.

Nathrezim (Dreadlords);

Commanders, Lieutenants, Puppeteers of the Legion. Cunning and some of the most dangerous Demons to be pitted against. Even Illidan himself had some trouble taken on their more notable members, like Tichondris, who nearly destroyed all of Felwood. Could not be bound.

Observer;

Massive, floating eyeball demons. Absolutely disgusting to look at and rather mighty. Not able to be bound.

Overfiend;

There is very little lore on these other than being big, fiery hunks. Likely constructs. No.

Satyr;

Despite common belief they can be other races not including Night Elves. Illidan himself isn’t actually bound to a Demon, rather just Demonic in nature and corrupted by Fel, so in likelihood the closest description of his being would be a Satyr. In theory these could be bound, so yes but I heavily dislike the idea. It basically means you’re a Elf bound to something that is probably just a slighter eviler elf.

Shivarra;

The six armed fanatical equivilate of Demonic Priests. Very powerful and often weild swords in all six arms, blazzing the battlefield. They cannot be bound.

Succubus (Sayaad);

The nightmarish interrogators and slave drivers of the Burning Legion, conducting themselves with an air of seducation and cunning. Can be bound.

Tothrezim;

Cousins of the Nathrezim and those responsible for the creation of the Infernals. For similiar reasons, they cannot be bound.

Ur'zul;

Nightmare Fuel. Created from the broken bodies of Members of the Army of the Light or the Krokuul Broken. Existing solely on Argus as far as we know and very powerful as a result of the inhumane magic they were created by. Not able to be bound.

Vilefiend;

Canine like Demons infused with acid. Existing solely on Argus, as far as we know. These cannot be bound. Or touched unless you like acid burns.

Void Hound (Void Terror);

Two headed doglike Demons, infused with nearly endless amounts of magic, that roam the Twisting Nether. Cannot be bound.

Wrathguard;

Man'ari who serve as the honour guard for the Commanders of the Legion. Nope.

Wrymtongue;

Small Demons, used mostly for labour. Meek and usually kept as slaves, while they horde shiny things. Can be bound.

And that is every Demon in Warcraft lore as per currently (currently being the end of Legion). In total on this list there are 36 types of Demon in all. There are also in total 15 types of Demon all in all that can be bound, not including subfactions that I did not feel were different enough to merit including (Felhounds and Manastalkers, Felstalkers and Dreadstalkers, The different types of Mistresses and their powers for Sayad). That means the majority of demons cannot be bound but it does leave a good, varied range of choice and I would ask you stick to those 15 as law.

[aerltarg]

@bigbraincel oh yes i can see it now

too bad then bc this fandom without new books for 11 years has gone pretty much insane and is full of drama. ppl have seen posts from you in the style of "why it's so difficult to stan both sansa and dany" which reminds too painfully about a certain group that pretends to be neutral. basically it's holier-than-thou attitude, "don't pit girls against each other" and "we love all women equally" rhetoric all the while they jump w this faux feminism when anything sansa related is discussed in slightly not worshipping manner but when dany and arya and their stans face vilest hate it's ALWAYS crickets from them. basically them (as well as daensas who use the same faux feminist shield) are just dany antis in disguise who "love her as a villain" and all this crap. "we love all girls equally" is one of the biggest red flags in this fandom nowadays. in the light of this you speculating abt dany's death in the books (what only antis do, btw, and using the most irritating, triggering and nonsense theory abt dany burning kl at that) just can't be seen as a discussion in a good faith.

it's a pity if you're indeed genuine in what you've said but considering the endless shitty behaviour from the other side of the fandom that has been going on for years now i can't blame any dany stan getting upset and angry at your post.

you speculate abt the possibility of grrm writing it but there are tons of excellent analysis and metas and meta edits that point out the facts proving the contrary and debunk this idea as a whole from several different sides. dany stans are fighting this irritating fanon in the most creative ways, so it's just repulsive with all the proofs that grrm isn't intending to put this sexist trope in dany's arc to see "ah dany gonna end herself on jon's sword bc nissa nissa uwu" take in her tag thrown so casually from a person who looks like another "neutral".

i disagree. "a self-sacrificing hero" image DOES NOT remove the sexist idea of female character dying for the sake of male hero's arc and DOES NOT remove the implications that she's oh so good for doing the right choice by deciding willingly to die so he can continue "fighting a good fight". that i made clear in my tags, btw. when i wrote "dying for the sake of male hero" i didn't mean that she literally does this for jon and not humanity but that her death serves JON'S ARC in your speculation. according to your post dany dies and jon gets 1) heroic destiny story bc apparently he's aa/tptwp, the main hero and the saviour who will fight the others and win; and 2) tragic hero image bc according to you he is in love w dany and he fails to prevent her death, oh poor jon. it's reducing dany's character to plot device serving to the MALE HERO's arc. and throwing dany's magical and political plots already set up in the books out of the window as every "dany dies" theory does.

you maybe didn't mean it but this looked just like any other anti hateful take. bad dany set up a capital on fire and is guilty driven to the point of committing a suicide portrayed as "heroic self-sacrifice" on his sword. while jon (who looks completely good and innocent in this picture) ofc tries to stop her but ofc fails. i'm not going to repeat myself so look the previous point: dany still being reduced to plot device in male character's story. dany has done smth bad, dany feels guilty, dany must redeem herself. jon? gets a magical sword, none of his past or possible mistakes in sight and ofc none of his (never mentioned) mistakes having such consequences as dany's.

of course, it can be considered slightly better than whatever this shitshow has given us but honestly? setting this high budget fanfiction as a bar to look up to is already humiliating and ridiculous in itself.

i am blaming you for accepting what dumb and dumber did as smth that can happen in the books. no, it cannot. plots of the show and of the books has started to differ way too early not to mention that many characters that exist or are alive in the books never existed or died in the show. moreover, dany was given in the show elements of book only character jon connington who has the most chances to put kl on fire one way or another in the books.

don't put heavily show influenced takes in asoiaf tag - it's beyond tiring and annoying already to discuss this shitshow and the disgrace they call s8 in the year of our lord 2022 as well as seeing anything got related in books tag. don't put this in daenerys targaryen tag if you don't want to hear other ppl's opinions that might disagree w you - we see hate takes there way too often not to answer nowadays.

and if you think ppl are being overdramatic w what is posted in certain characters tags, consider once again that it's an old fandom w very long history. the other side fights to death over the tiniest posts in their sacred tags, sometimes only bc op isn't a part of their cult lmao, so ofc other stans (who deal w constant hate and vile behaviour towards both their favourite characters and them as persons, mind you) feel in their right to bite back.

@bigbraincel can you please copy paste your replies to my tags here? for some dumb reason tumblr shows me a bunch of notifs but doesn't let see anything of what you've typed

[invokingbees]

Bloodborne Lore Ramblings

Here we go again!

THE BIGGEST SPOILERS PLEASE PLAY BLOODBORNE BLIND

The blood, where does it come from? What does it do? Why does it do that? Why has no one copped on yet? These are questions no one in Pthumeru, Loran or Yharnam has ever even considered thinking about. Yes! The blood is old, very old, it's the Old Blood, and Yharnam was not the first civilization to encounter it or be destroyed by it. To learn about the Old Blood, we need to go back to who ruined everything for everyone in the beginning: the Pthumerians. This will be a rather extensive post, I fear. I don't plan these out.

The Pthumerians were an ancient race of prehumans, spooky, pale, tall, thin humanoids with sunken features. Creatures right out of a mediocre Internet creepypasta. They were the first to encounter the Eldritch Truth, the existence of the Great Ones, the Nightmare, eyes on the inside, all that. Pthumerian society seems to have become completely obsessed and centred around the Great Ones, rites such as Marriage only being available to Pthumerian royalty, when they presumably 'wed' a Great One, bearing its child, and also considering themselves as custodians of the Great Ones. The Old Lords of the boss names Keeper of the Old Lords and Watchdog of the Old Lords are most likely the Great Ones. The Labyrinths in which the Pthumerians dwelt hint towards more of their highly ritualized existence. Pits full of corpses, bloody pools, candles just absolutely everywhere, treasure and store rooms draped in cloth and statues, the Pthumerians lived for stuff. And died for it, and un-died for it. It would seem the Pthumerians had their own unique powers over undeath (for all the basic chalice dungeon enemies are emaciated, skeletal and rotting, the Merciless Watchers are covered in open sores and look slick) and, for some reason, fire. If it has fire, it comes from or is ultimately linked to Pthumeru (yes, Maria and by extension the Vilebloods have Pthumerian links).

Pthumeru's downfall is uncertain. Maybe they couldn't keep up with the pace or demands of their ritualized existence. Maybe the effects of the Eldritch Truth were too much for even them to bear. Maybe it was the blood turning everyone into beasts. Maybe it was all three. Pthumeru contains beasts like we know, but also their own unique variations, namely the Bloodlicker (those huge tick looking things) and the Lost Children of Antiquity (those gargoyles). And yes, you find both in Cainhurst. Simply put, Cainhurst wanted to take on the mantle of ancient Pthumerian royalty, didn't really work out so well.

The Old Blood itself is of alien origin. My personal belief is it comes from an Ebrietas, of which Pthumeru has one, in the city of Isz. Perhaps that is the first Daughter of the Cosmos, who knows. I believe this because we're told the source of the Healing Church's special blood is located in the grand cathedral, and who lives there? Ebrietas does. She's right goddamn behind Amelia's boss room. Just out of sight, out of knowledge, is like the whole source of the problem at the very beginning of the game! I don't know what you'd call that, but I think it's neat. Now, you might say, she's found in the Upper Cathedral Ward! Yeah, but that's only how you access that portion of the Grand Cathedral. When you go to pick up A Call Beyond, look over the railing. It's Amelia's boss room.

Anyway, blood, use it, turn into a beast. But this is complicated. First, the actual problem isn't even really the liquid itself, it's what it's IN that liquid – Vermin, the writhing centipedes seen and sought out by those beautiful bastards in the League. Vermin, the root of all man's impurity, seem to be what actually cause us to turn into beasts. It is, after all, a blood borne disease. Perhaps eggs or small, larval forms are carried through, which then grow and cause mutation, or, as it is hinted at in the Beast Roar tool description, it simply awakens something deep within the human form... You find vermin too in Silverbeasts when you kill them, one or two large silvery vermin burst out, and the headless version of the Bloodletting Beast (gotta talk about him too!) has an absolutely colossal one inside of it.

So, use blood, get vermin, become beast. Now you're a beast, what happens next? Well, that takes us to Loran, and land devoured by the sands.

Loran is interesting because it's here we encounter what appears to be beasthood's final phase – electricity. Loran itself has small electrical surges in the air caused by the endless sandstorms generating static electricity. Curiously, this is also present in some of its beasts. The Loran Silverbeasts generate an electrical explosion, as does its big, big brother, the undead Darkbeast, a creature seemingly held together by matted fur and animated by sparks and marrow. Another bolt-based beast is the Abhorrent Beast, who actually seems to have wind-based attacks, much like the winds eternally rushing through Loran. Are these beasts a unique product of their environment? Potentially. But we also find a Darkbeast far from home in Yahar'gul and an Abhorrent Beast in the Forbidden Woods (well a man, who turns into one at least). I think it's fairly safe to assume they're not unique to that place, but Loran definitely got them first.

There's also that pesky piece of description that says that the devouring sands had its roots in the beast scourge. So, maybe after all, bolt beasts and wind powers are a Loran original. But then there's also the idea that Yharnam will be next. Crazy, crazy theory here, but do beasts make wind? Sand? Do they alter an environment to block out Kinhood? If Loran fell like that, and Yharnam's now 99.9% beasts, there's a chance. We do see a lot of stuff floating in the Yharnam air in the evening light...

Beasthood is the anithesis is Insight. Did you know, in-game, the higher insight you have, the harder it is to build up the beasthood meter? The real icing on the cake is the bolt, though. Only one type of enemy the game as an inherent weakness to Bolt – Kin. Kin are people who have been changed by insight, or by experimentation in post-human creatures. It's a sliding scale, then. If Kinhood is the potential in a human for alien ascendancy, then Beasthood is the opposite, degeneration even further from humanity, and an active reaction against it, generating the electricity that Kin naturally fear. It should be noted that those not long off becoming beasts lose their eyes, as the pupils turns to mush, and we all know the more eyes the spookier you get. That's why so many hunters like Gascoigne and Djura, and so many Yharnamites have their eyes covered. It's been posited that Beasthood is like an immunity reaction to an alien element – to the Old Blood, or the alien Vermin. Although possible, I would wonder why Vermin seem to thrive inside degenerating bodies. But Beasthood does seem to be a reaction.

You've got to wonder, three civilizations fell to this stuff now, why did no one ever stop to think that clearly it's causing a huge, irreversible problem? Pthumeru was obviously obsessed, maybe even haughty. Loran, well, there's so little info that it's hard to say.  I get the feeling they were horribly overwhelmed by sickness, beasts and sand. Yharnam clearly was controlled by the theocratic Healing Church, and likely the knowledge was suppressed by those who sought to experiment with it for ascension. I love how Laurence just straight up lied to Willem, though. I will not forget our adage, eh? Yeah, won't forget it, but I will just completely ignore. Good job, Larry.

Lastly, there is again the problem of the Great Ones, specifically one of them – the nameless Moon Presence. It's quite heavily implied that the Moon Presence, or the Bloodmoon, or both (or one and the same) are responsible for this particular apocalyptic outbreak. Old Yharnam saw a Bloodmoon before, a message found near the Charred Hunter set states that a red moon hung low. Nights of the Hunt happen, and are regular occurrences if the casual nature of the NPC dialogue throughout Central Yharnam and the Cathedral Ward are to be taken as such, as well as the mention of 'old beast tales' in the Church Pick's description in the Old Hunter's DLC. They're just not city-ending events. At most a few people god bad, and the hunters deal with it. But tonight is different, tonight the School of Mensis is doing their big ritual to call down the moon with a nightmare newborn as bait.

So how does this work? If beasthood is a reaction against old blood/vermin/alien influence, then just what exactly IS the Bloodmoon doing as it gets closer? What about it causes such a horribly violent reaction in the infection/vermin that causes beasthood to go berserk? Maybe Vermin aren't even alien, maybe they're naturally found in humans and they go nuts when Old Blood is introduced, turning us into Beasts. It's all speculation, but they are regardless the root of man's impurity, and I think it's possible that maybe they really are man's after all. I think it's merely the nature of the Bloodmoon itself, as an alien thing. I think it's because the Moon Presence is a true, proper, alien Great One and as such must be immensely powerful or just immensely other, making the reaction go into overdrive. I don't think that's too far-fetched, because they are called Nights of the Hunt, not days, evenings or dawns, but Nights, when the moon is out, but it's normally so very far away.

There's the belief that the Old Blood might come from the Moon Presence. It's not impossible. Blood is bred through people like Blood Saints who have purer or more power strains. It's bred and doled out via Ebrietas, who I am mostly sure was once a person, or a Pthumerian, but not a Great One proper. It could explain the Moon Presence's connections beyond is just being the most alien creature mankind has encountered, why its presence causes beastpocalypses.

Actually maybe lastly, there's the Bloodletting Beast as a source of the Old Blood. I myself have really nothing to refute this or defend it. He's just too unimportant. He's got a big vermin in him, sure, and in Japanese his name is 'Host of the Beast Blood', which seems pretty damning. But what do his names mean? Perhaps he's the first beast, or the oldest beast. Micolash was the host of the Nightmare of Mensis, but he was just the manager running the show. Being found in Pthumeru, the oldest place we know would surely give the idea of him being one of if not the old beast an edge. Before the DLC people thought he was Laurence, actually. Some still do. I don't think so. We met that asshole.

Of course, beasts also hate fire. Then what in Kos' name are Beast-Possessed Souls and Loran Clerics?! Pthumerians have fire powers, do they keep them? Loran wasn't Pthumerian though! Can they even be counted as true beasts?!

Alas, I am now really truly rambling because we're at that very special point where there's basically no evidence to back a thing I say, but that's why I love Bloodborne. The endless, completely unverifiable lore theories.

[newrageinc]

Day 13: Lucid Dream

Part ii of All Roads Lead to you. AKA soulmates AU. You can read part i here.

I was aware.

More aware than I had been the previous nights.

These dreams I had been having were familiar and always the same. They were comforting and I often went to bed hoping tonight would be one of the nights I’d have this dream as I always woke feeling alert and full of hope that didn’t really make sense to the dream itself.

I didn’t know what they were then.

I am still in denial as to what is happening to me. To us…

But it’s getting harder to deny.

Hanabi speculated to me once that this was a shared dream. The beginnings of a psychic link that formed and grew stronger when you were about to meet your partner. I told her she was silly. That a little less than 3% of the population were likely to develop these psychic links and only 20% of the 3% would actually get to meet their other half.

“I don’t think that’s what these are.”

“I don’t know why you keep shutting this down. It’s totally a possibility.”

“I understand it’s a possibility but… I mean the odds are definitely stacked against that theory.”

I felt like by being realistic to myself, by reciting these statistics like a mantra over and over to myself as a lullaby while also hoping for that same dream to come by, would save me from hoping this dream would become a reality. From the eventual disappointment when it did not.

Even if I couldn’t quite squash down that hope either way.

Tonight was different.

The lighting in the room had changed, the sunlight shifting from cool blues to warmer yellow-orange against the off-white walls. Birds chirped happily outside the window and I knew if I pulled back the sheer white curtains there’d be an endless view of rolling hills. A canopy of green trees and long grass shifting in the breeze as far as I could see would cover the hills and I’d feel that overwhelming filling of my heart that was a constant whenever I dreamed myself in this house.

There was a steady ticking of a grandfather clock coming from the hallway. The carpet was rough against the bottoms of my bare feet and I curled my toes into the fabric, relishing the texture and steadying my breaths as the clock continued to tick the night’s passage. I was about to close my eyes, allow this tranquil feeling to flow through me like cool water when a strange fluttering started at my chest.

My breath caught in my throat and I snapped my head towards the archway that lead to the entryway. I had never strayed from this room before. I never had the urge to sit on the beige living room set, run my hands through the fluttering fabric of the corners, or peer out of the windows. I’d always stood at the center of this room, facing the fireplace and listening to the ticking.

But tonight, I was awake. Or not awake, aware.

My pulse quickened against my skin and my mouth felt dry. I felt itchy, anxious to move from this spot and go outside. A sudden buzzing trembled through my body as the thought of being in this house one second longer would suddenly feel like torture as opposed to comfort.

I swallowed, saliva hot and sticky as it crawled down my throat with such force that left it feeling like a desert. Even though I wanted to move, needed to move, I was frozen.

The clock’s ticking felt more like a countdown than ever.

I closed my eyes, straightened my shoulders, and started for the entryway. The carpet ended, giving way to a shining wooden floor that creaked with the strain of my weight on it. Each footstep a soft groan of old wood and nails as my heart hammered against my chest as the front door crept closer and closer to me. I reached my hand out and stopped, fingers grazing the cool metal of the door knob.

My hesitation allowed a ripple of fear to replace anticipation. Opening this door, seeing whatever it was that was outside of this house would change everything. I knew it. Could sense it. My body continued to buzz, an unknown force willing me turn to open the door. My hand shook where it hovered over the knob but I gave in to push the door open with all the force I had been using from keeping myself still.

The screen door banged against the far wall as I pushed it open, disturbing the relative silence of the day as I blinked to adjust to the brighter light of the outside. The porch gave way to a loose gravel path and standing just before the stairs of the porch was someone.

He was someone I knew, or at least it felt like I knew as I looked in to those eyes and feel I like could count each lash and know them each like the back of my hand. His mouth opened slightly at the sight of me, lips parting and a soft gasp escaped him as he took me in, those dark eyes searching my face and memorizing my features in a way that no one in my waking life had ever tried to do.

“Hi…” He started, seeming to remember himself and straightening his shoulders.

“You’re finally here,” I breathed, not knowing where the words came from. I didn’t know I had been waiting until this moment. Until I was face to face with the most beautiful boy I’d ever encountered and my heart was singing and I felt so whole I wanted to cry.

My alarm blared then, pulling me forcefully from slumber as I shot up from my mattress, sheets tangled around my legs and my skin was sticky from sweat. There was a sharp knock at my door.

“Hinata!” My sister, sounding a little annoyed. “You’ll be late at this rate.”

I groaned, falling back and pushing my palms against my eyelids before taking a deep breath and jumping out of bed, stumbling on the sheets as I went.

As I brushed the tangles from my hair, eyes narrowed at my own reflection, I could still see him. Gazing back at me with dark eyes that seemed to have captured me and bleed fully into my waking life as I went through the motions of getting ready for school.

My body felt heavy. There was a heavy pit at my core and my limbs felt like lead as I finally made my way down the stairs, keys jingling in my hands as I went, movements sluggish despite my rush. Hanabi stood at the foot of the stairs, eyes narrowed up at me with her arms crossed over her small frame, hip cocked to one side as she stared.

I kept my eyes lowered to the carpeted steps and was hoping she wouldn’t notice my odd behavior when she gasped. I could hear the satisfaction in her voice when she spoke.

“You met them last night, didn’t you?”

“Hanabi-“

“What did they look like? Are they hot?” I stepped around her and quickened my stride, pushing aside the odd feeling of my body. She trailed closely behind. “Did you learn their name? Did you talk to them? Oh, this is so cool! My sister has a link! A legitimate link! It’ll be so cool if you’re able to arrange a meeting in person. I wonder if you guys will be able to do that-“

“Hanabi please!” I swirled around and put my arms at her shoulders, stopping her in her tracks effectively stopping her rambling. She blinked up at me, her pale eyes gazing up at me alight with curiosity. I bit my lip and took my hands away to circle my arms around myself. I took a deep breath. “I just really don’t want to talk about this. Can we go?”

Today was probably the worst day for it to be a first day.

Sasuke shifted uneasily next to his brother who was bent over filling out paperwork. He tapped his fingers restlessly against his jean covered thighs as the halls began to fill with the voices of his soon to be peers. Itachi sighed, flipping to the next page and seeing all the other pieces of information that needed to be filled in, slumped further in his seat.

Sasuke kept seeing her. Light eyes. Long hair. Pieces of her breathy voice kept floating through his thoughts since he’d gotten up that morning. Waking up had never been harder, had never felt more like being ripped away forcefully than it had this morning.

He wished he would’ve thought to ask her name. To get something from her that’d make it easier to find her in their waking life. Though thinking on it now it felt like finding a needle in a haystack. He didn’t even know if she was anywhere near here. He couldn’t begin to think of where to start and he wasn’t sure he’d be given a second chance at meeting her in their dream. He wasn’t sure if the dreams would continue now that he knows her face.

He wished he had paid attention whenever the subject had been brought up.

His body ached and he felt hollow as he kept turning over different ideas on how to start a proper search for this girl. He barely acknowledged his brother’s clap on his shoulder when Itachi had left or the secretary’s kind smile as he took his printed schedule from her as well as a map of the campus.

“Second period is about to start, you can start heading that way honey.” He thanked her and started his search.

This campus was larger than his old school. He took a few turns, squinting at the numbers on the walls and wishing he’d worn his glasses instead of his contact lenses. He’d probably be carrying this map for weeks. When he’d finally found the correct classroom, he adjusted his backpack on his shoulders and leaned against the wall, tilting his head back to thud against the cool tile of the wall.

His heart beat hard against his chest and he felt his breath quicken when the bell dinged the end of the first period. The halls filled almost instantly with students, voices blending together in the chaos as they all started their collective commute to their next class. He waited for the doorway to clear before making his way in. He handed the teacher his transfer slip before he was directed to a table towards the back of the room. He was handed a textbook and on his merry way to his seat.

His pulse continued its quick pace in his veins as other students slowly trickled in, some casting him curious looks but none approaching his table to sit next to him. He kept his eyes lowered on his notebook, hoping to avoid any eye contact and concentrated on calming himself enough so that he wouldn’t be jittering during the lecture. The last thing he needed at this new school was a reputation of being disruptive.

The air changed around him, feeling charged as the hair on his arm stood on end with the last group of students to walk through the door. There was a clatter as a binder on to the floor. Sasuke looked up and caught her eye.

The relief he felt at seeing her was instant. He hadn’t realized he’d been holding himself taught and that he had been clenching his jaw. Seeing her was like he’d dipped himself into a cool spring of water even though she was blushing furiously and had immediately looked away and to the floor to fumble with her dropped binder and books. He felt his whole being twitched as though he wanted to go up to her and help though he knew it’d draw unwanted attention towards him. Instead he started a doodle on his blank notebook paper.

“Hinata? Is everything alright?” The teacher spoke up and Sasuke glanced up to find Hinata still dawdling at the front of the room. She was still looking down at the floor though all of her things were in her hands.

“N-no it’s fine. I’m… fine.”

“Great, please take your seat,” the teacher responded not unkindly. She nodded and started forward slowly.

“Why? Why did she have to put him there?”

Sasuke stopped his doodling as the words filled his mind, the unfamiliar voice floating around with his own. He turned and saw her staring wide eyed at him, face as red as a strawberry.

“Oh god…”

“So it’s true.”

“Hinata?” She jumped, apologizing quickly and scooting into the empty seat beside Sasuke. Her posture was stiff and she sat at the very edge of her chair, foot jiggling wildly and her nervousness bled into his, twisting and melding into his own anxieties from before.

“I didn’t think it was true.” He kept his gaze towards the board as the teacher began scribbling out reading assignments and pages with questions she’d like answered by tomorrow. “I would have never thought-“

“Would you please stop?” He blinked, tilting his head slightly so he could watch her out of the corner of his eye.

His body thrummed with her being so close to him and he felt an elation he didn’t think he was capable of. Her face still looked drawn and she kept her head slightly turned away from him, hair pointedly blocking him from her view. He shifted in his seat.

“Hinata…”

She shot up from her seat then, gathering her things and rushing out of the room before anyone could stop her. The teacher called after her and the students all shifted around to look at him as they murmured questions to her speedy and abrupt exit. He was half way out of his seat when the teacher turned and pointed her marker at him.

“Sit,” her tone was forceful and called for no argument. She gestured to the rest of the class. “Start the assignment. I’ll be back.”

‘Well so much for not being disruptive’

[pinelife3]

What is a labyrinth for?

I've been reading House of Leaves for the last ~7 months. I'm interested, but not engaged: all those months of toil and I'm still only 300 pages in (it is really tempting to just read the Wikipedia summary). The book is about a house which is bigger on the inside than on the outside. People find a mysterious passage which leads to endless hallways, rooms leading to more rooms. An expedition is mounted and the group spend close to two weeks exploring the insides of the house's walls. It takes them four days to descend a staircase. They never find the outside, the house never ends. And as the story goes on the house becomes increasingly hostile and it’s driving people crazy, floors are spontaneously opening up and swallowing unsuspecting alcoholics down into bottomless pits.

Throughout the book (or, really, throughout the bit I've read so far - haha how many book reports have been authored by people who have only read a fraction of the book?) there are lots of references to labyrinths and their purpose. Such a cool word - what's the meaning of 'lab'? Labyrith = misspelt start to labia? That would be interesting. Fingers crossed that that's an upcoming twist in HoL. Okay: the etymology - Online Etymology Dictionary:

c. 1400, laberynthe (late 14c. in Latinate form laborintus) "labyrinth, maze, great building with many corridors and turns,"figuratively "bewildering arguments," from Latin labyrinthus, from Greek labyrinthos "maze, large building with intricate passages," especially the structure built by Daedelus to hold the Minotaur, near Knossos in Crete, a word of unknown origin.

A word of unknown origin... Spooky. They go on:

Apparently from a pre-Greek language; traditionally connected to Lydian labrys "double-edged axe," symbol of royal power, which fits with the theory that the original labyrinth was the royal Minoan palace on Crete. It thus would mean "palace of the double-axe." But Beekes finds this "speculative" and compares laura "narrow street, narrow passage, alley, quarter," also identified as a pre-Greek word. Used in English for "maze" early 15c., and in figurative sense of "confusing state of affairs" (1540s). As the name of a structure of the inner ear, the essential organ of hearing, from 1690s.

This is definitely irrelevant, but in Homer, Odysseus’ stock epithet is ‘cunning’ - the first lines of The Odyssey are: “Sing to me of the man, Muse, the man of twists and turns.” Is this twists and turns because he’s cunning and able to confound people with his ‘figuratively bewildering arguments’ - or is this twists and turns because he’s a terrible navigator and we’re about to hear all about his epic, decade-long journey home from Troy?

Anyway, kind of feels pointless to tell the story of the Minotaur and his labyrinth because you definitely already know it, but just briefly:

Tale as old as time, True as it can be, Blah blah blaaaah  Beauty and the beast

After some funny business between Poseidon and Minos (the king of Crete), the queen (Minos’ wife - and also the daughter of Helios, the sun) falls in love with a bull which was originally given to Minos by Poseidon under the proviso that he (Minos) would sacrifice it to honour Poseidon (sweet deal). Anyway, the queen is totally besotted with this bull and decides she wants to kick things up a gear sexually so she has Daedalus (of wax wings fame) make a hollow fake cow so she can get banged by the bull (what could go wrong?). She winds up pregnant and gives birth to the Minotaur - the queen tries to raise him right but he is savage. Because he’s a monstrosity, he had no natural food source and settles upon humans as his food of choice. 

Minos commissions Daedalus to build a labyrinth (I presume the Cretan royalty had some kind of family discount plan) and they shove the Minotaur in there. Why didn’t Minos just kill the Minotaur? The oracle at Delphi said not to. Plus, I guess it might have upset his wife a bit. Why didn’t Minos just kill Daedalus? That’d be too easy. It seems like at the core of most myths there’s a kernel of morality tale:

For Daedalus: just because you can doesn’t mean you should - be more careful about the stuff you build. And don’t enable bestiality 

For Minos: don’t sass Poseidon

For the queen: typical Greek stuff - all women (even the daughters of the sun god) are depraved liars with bizzareo sexual leanings. Even though it was a curse from Poseidon that gave her those impulses, her shame echoes through eternity (which is weirdly her only cosmic punishment - besides, I guess, being separated from her one true love, the bull... actually, I’m not sure what happened there. One assumes that after the Minotaur thing she decided to hit the brakes on her relationship with the bull but maybe they grew old together, lying in the sun in grassy pastures for the rest of their lives)

If you were hoping that this was the only tale of lady/bull romance from ancient Greece, you are shit out of luck. In another story from Crete, ya boy Zeus takes a fancy to a woman named Europa. Rather than woo her using any of the conventional means, Zeus transforms into a huge white bull and abducts her, taking her to the island of Crete. She becomes Crete’s first queen and has some kids with Zeus - it’s unclear whether this goes down with Zeus in bull or human form. It transpires that one of the kids born from Europa’s affair with Zeus is Minos. So Minos’ mother and wife both had unsavoury relationships with bulls. 

That was a long detour - getting back to the Labyrinth: it was built in Crete to house the Minotaur. The idea was that the Minotaur would never be able to escape, and that anyone who entered the Labyrinth wouldn’t be able to escape either. Why not just lock the Minotaur in a prison? Doesn’t have the same ring to it, I guess. It’s a weird idea though, isn’t it - making a really complicated (but still solvable) puzzle and putting something you never want found or freed in it. Why not just make something actually unsolvable?  

So that’s the first/most famous labyrinth. Herodotus, a Greek historian who was kicking around in the 5th century BC also wrote about one in Egypt. He wrote a book called Histories which Wikipedia bills as the founding work of history in the Western literary canon (I initially misread this sentence and thought that they were saying it was the founding work overall and I was about to be all ‘ah, beaucoup problemo, Wikipedia.’ But a quick reread saves me from from making an embarrassing mistake). ANYWAY, in the second volume of Histories, Herodotus recounts his travels around the far flung and exotic land of Egypt. According to Herodotus:

This I have actually seen, a work beyond words. For if anyone put together the buildings of the Greeks and display of their labours, they would seem lesser in both effort and expense to this labyrinth… Even the pyramids are beyond words, and each was equal to many and mighty works of the Greeks. Yet the labyrinth surpasses even the pyramids.

Ancient Origins dot net says:

It was named ‘Labyrinth’ by the Greeks after the complex maze of corridors designed by Daedalus for King Minos of Crete, where the legendary Minotaur dwelt. Yet today, nothing remains of this supposedly grand temple complex – at least not on the surface. The mighty labyrinth became lost to the pages of history.

It was actually a mortuary temple, not a labyrinth in the traditional sense of looking like a maze, but it was sprawling, complex and difficult to navigate.The only other Greek historian to see it was Strabo. He was kicking around ~500 years after Herodotus but also reported that the labyrinth was pretty crazy, calling it a “great palace composed of many palaces.” He said:

[I]n front of the entrances are crypts, as it were, which are long and numerous and have winding passages communicating with one another, so that no stranger can find his way either into any court or out of it without a guide.

Apparently the temple was lost over time - Wikipedia is blaming Ptolemy II (who apparently married his sister so that gives you a sense of his respect for preserving the integrity of things like historical sites and the integrity of blood lines) for its ‘demolition’ but he died in 246 BCE so, if he’d destroyed it, how would Strabo have been able to see it in the 1st century CE? It may not have been completely destroyed - it sounds like they perhaps just removed a bunch of limestone columns and blocks.

Fast forward to 1888: a British archaeologist named Flinders Petrie is excavating the site - of his findings he writes: there was nothing but a “vast field of chipped stone, six feet deep... All over an immense area of dozens of acres, I found evidence of a grand building. From such very scanty remains it is hard to settle anything." Petrie also apparently found a bunch of papyrus scrolls - including some which contain parts of the Illiad!

So there was definitely something there. Imagine this though: people found Herodotus’ writings ages ago and are searching around in the sand based on 2,000+ year old testimony from a man who many of his contemporaries considered at best a gullible exaggerator and at worst a liar. 

There was an expedition in 2008 - they have a website talking up their geophysic surveys of the area but they might not have found much because the results page of their website was never completed.

There’s a really weirdly specific Wikipedia article dealing with the (figurative) presence of the Minotaur in HoL - obviously some HoL superfan wrote this article (and it is interesting) but I don’t know why it warrants its own stand alone article - it’s not unusual to have a separate article discussing the themes and motifs of a major text on Wikipedia, but this is a whole article discussing a single motif. ANYWAY I like the analysis in the article about how if the house is the labyrinth, the Minotaur is the awful thoughts that crowd around you as you explore the endless hallways - obviously these are different for everyone. SO the Cretan labyrinth was built because Minos didn’t want to kill the bull - that was its purpose. What is the purpose of the labyrinth in the house? (That’s really why I’m still reading.)

UPDATE: have given up on House of Leaves - it’s on the bookshelf and never coming off. I am a quitter. Feels amazing.