#the entire earth is sustained on a cycle of life and death

[lastoneout]

"aging and dying is unnatural" boy do I have news for you about how evolution and the ecosystem work

[umbralstars]

I think one of my favorite things about FF7 is how genuinely alien Gaia is. I think people gloss over how different this world is compared to ours and I don't just mean magic. Gaia doesn't have plate tectonics, or if it does it doesn't work the same as our world. The Lifestream isn't just a metaphysical space, it's a physical ocean under the crust of the Planet that acts of in a similar fashion to the mantle of Earth. The Lifestream can flow to the surface and tear apart the land or piece it back together in whatever way it sees fit. It can sink or create entire landmasses at random.

It can flow in ways to create a lush paradise or concentrate so heavily in areas they become borderline toxic. The Nibel Mountains (while I know part of their problem is there's been a reactor there for 40+ years; do remember Nibel is facing the same problem of ecological collapse the Midgar Wastes are, so that's why it looks Like That. Nibel is just lucky it had one little town instead of a giant city) are essentially Gaia's version of active volcanoes, just without the heat of magma and lava. The Lifestream is also so close that those mountains were intimately tied with the cycle of life and death in Nibel probably for generations. Rhadore, similarly, was a volcanic archipelago, and her people knew that well. Shinra? They refused to listen as they always do.

The Lifestream itself is also one of the most animist concepts I've ever seen in fiction. It is All Life. Everything upon Gaia is intimately woven into the fabric of the Lifestream; plants, animals, rocks, rivers, oceans, Everything. It contains all memories that have ever existed and will ever exist upon Gaia. The Lifestream is the movement of the waves, the rushing course of rivers, the memories of materia, the slopes of the mountains, the rustling of plants and leaves, it is the souls of all things, it is mortal and gods alike.

The world we see in FF7 proper is a fantasy world that is slowly being consumed by capitalism and a cyberpunk hellscpe (those are often the same things). It is a fantasy world that has forgotten what it once was, what it still is. It is about a people who have been utterly disconnected from the very river of life that created and sustains them.

And I just think that's neat.

[abyssal-author-and-artist]

I want to try my hand at a real Gravity Falls AU so here we go.

It's semi-based on the Undertale AU Reapertale (one of my all-time favorite Undertale AUs), but mostly I just took the concept, so you don't need to have an understanding of that AU to hopefully enjoy and understand this one.

So basically, the concept is every single member of the cast - or at least the main members - are mapped to a god. For example, Soos is the god of childhood, so his entire deal would be childlike innocence and he'd function sort of as a guardian for lost and hurt children, especially those with rocky family situations.

The gods and their functions would go as such:

Soos - God of Childhood, obviously, protects children and guides lost ones back to their families. Keeps the lonely and hurting ones company when they need it most. Is pretty much the same as he is in canon, lighthearted and good with kids but surprisingly mature at times. (Soos is pretty complex, I think!)

Wendy - God of Forestry. Not necessarily the god of lumberjacks, but definitely the god of forests and trees in general. She's strong and protective and basically exactly the same except she maintains the balance of all forests in addition to messing around with her friends.

Robbie - God of Earth. I almost went with Death but I think I can find someone else to fit Death a little better. Also, if his parents are undertakers, then yes they work with the dead, but I think it's more narratively compelling with him as Earth instead. Plus, the forest and the earth? That's pretty cool (until they break up over something petty as all gods do). He'd probably do stuff like tend to the earth, but I doubt that he'd have much to do compared to literally everyone else here.

Dipper - God of Space. There's a couple reasons for this. I really waffled back and forth on what to do for him and I almost caved to science or cryptids. I picked space for the obvious reason of the birthmark but also because if he's beefing with Robbie, then god damn it, he's going to be god of a narratively fitting thing. The earth and the sky fighting over the trees. It's stupid but I like it. Also space has great symbolic ties to the unknown, so he'd still be able to be super invested in the unknown and cryptids and stuff. His responsibilities would be stuff like managing heavenly bodies and regulating natural cycles.

Mabel - God of the World. Yes this makes Mabel kinda overpowered. Yes I wanted really bad for Mabel and Dipper to have some cool duality going on. No further questions. (Actually there are many further questions you may ask me any that you want my asks are open.) Her job is to maintain the world and everything on it, but it's pretty self-sustaining, so her duties are mostly just causing a rogue natural disaster every once in a while to keep the balance correct. The world is just chaotic enough that I think it still works.

Ford - God of Life. I wanted to go for a vibe with Stan and Ford, and it works best with Ford first on the list. His job is normal Life stuff - create people and animals to live out their natural lives on the planet (as managed by Mabel). He's Life for reasons that I... cannot explain but are there nonetheless.

Stan - God of Death. Stan's job is to kill people. Just like Dipper and Mabel, Stan and Ford are two halves of a pair. Two pieces to maintain the balance. Most of the reason he's Death is because I think it fits his vibe, somehow, and also because I like the thought of Death having to impersonate life. I just think it's neat.

McGucket - God of Science. He was almost God of Progress, but with Dipper and Ford being Space and Life respectively, someone needs to represent science, and McGucket fits the bill well enough. Funnily enough, McGucket acts as a literal muse to important people in scientific fields, giving them divine bouts of inspiration.

Bill - not a god! Well, not anymore. Most of his power has been sealed so he's functioning at about a third of his full power. He used to be some sort of supreme god, or king of gods, but he had some sort of falling. Think Zeus toppling the Titans, where Bill is the Titans and everyone else is the rest of the Greek Gods. Not a one to one, of course. Whatever gods defeated him are likely long dead or sealed, so they're not relevant to the plot and that's why Ford would get tricked by him. In a time past, he had all powers, but he's been reduced to weaker forms of mind magic.

I think that's all the major players, but for my sanity, here's a few more people quickly.

Tambry - God of Communication. Not sure she's relevant enough but I had a good idea for her.

Manly Dan - God of Fighting. Pretty obvious.

Filbrick Pines (Stans' dad) - can't think of something I'm satisfied with! He really doesn't have a lot.

Caryn Pines (Stans' mom) - God of Prophecy. Pretty obvious.

Love God - not relevant to anything at all but in case you were wondering, he's literally still a cherub. Nothing changes.

Gideon - God of Magic.

Bud Gleeful - not a god. You know how in Greek myth Zeus will have children with human women through various weird ways? Yeah, Bud Gleeful is the human woman. Whether that means he's trans masc or a part of his essence was stolen and mixed with divinity is up to you.

Pacifica - God of Change. This one needs a little explanation so basically it's because she's breaking the cycle of change. On a related note,

Pacifica's parents (can't remember their names) - dual gods of power. One seeks more money and the other seeks more beauty. They're totally tricksters who promise you power and then fuck you over.

Can't think of anything else right now but I will be posting design ideas next. And then I will try to put out as many fully drawn character designs as possible. (I'm starting with Dipper and then going from there, but I have ibis paint free trail so i can't draw much).

The AU would probably be called Divine Falls or something like that. That's probably what I'm going with, honestly. Plot will exist later right now it's just a cool idea

[alienarthouse]

Like the land plants of Earth, the Mahweir species engages in what is known as the “alternation of generations”, but with four forms instead of two. Essentially, each generation of this species produces offspring that differs in form and reproductive type from its parents. This has lead to the Mahweir being mistaken as four different species, but the fact that this cycle will always take place, without fail, is solid evidence of it being one species. We discuss the forms below.

(A) Terreids

The first form in the generational cycle of the Mahweir is known as a Terreid. This form is completely sessile, often found growing on the forest floor or on the trunks of trees. They consist of a mycelial network that grows beneath the ground or bark, and a mushroom-like fruiting body. This is a sporomycete generation, reproducing asexually and folding up its cap to release spores into the air during reproduction. Terreids were often assumed to be a non-intelligent form of Mahweir, but recent discoveries have found them capable of understanding language and even performing rudimentary forms of communication through connection to their mycelial networks. This had led to a shift in treatment of Terreids, once farmed as though they were unintelligent fungi.

(B) Aereids

Germinated from the spores released by Terreids, Aereids make up the next generational cycle. Gases stored in their cell’s vacuoles make them remarkably light, allowing Aereids to live an entire life suspended in the air. They maneuver themselves using feather-like fronds covered in millions of near-microscopic mycelial threads, allowing them to almost swim through the oxygen-rich atmosphere. They are sexually-reproducing gametomycetes, reproducing by injecting their zygotes into arthropods native to their planet. Despite their simple appearance, Aereids are shockingly intelligent, and capable of living for decades. In Mahweir cultures, they often serve as scholars, philosophers, and spiritual leaders.

(C) Canneir

The Canneir make up the next link in the generational cycle of Mahweir, living a unique experience compared to other generations, and oftentimes even between Canneir individuals. This is due to their nature as parasites; they are formed when Aereids inject developing zygotes into the arthropod-like animals of their homeworld. There they germinate, feeding upon the still-living animal as they develop an extensive mycelial network they will eventually use to puppet the exoskeleton left behind. They are asexually reproducing sporomycetes, releasing an explosion of spores upon their death. Canneir can possess any number of different arthropods, including the Zisk—this is often a source of controversy among sophonts, but it is often cited that it was only through the cooperation of the Mahweir and the Zisk queen Skychaser, who let Canneir parasitize her drones, that either species was able to achieve space travel. Canneir can live from only a few years to many decades, depending on the their host’s body’s ability to sustain them.

(D) Mahweir

Confusingly, the last form in the generational cycle are known as Mahweir. The name for this form became the colloquial name for the species largely because, when first encountered by the UFW, this form made up the majority of the space-faring population. Formed from spores released after a Canneir’s death, Mahweir initially resemble a sort of crab, with a small, tangled body of mycelium and a chitinous pseudoskeleton to support it. To survive, Mahweir bond together, entangling their grasping tendrils to form one larger super-individual. This connection goes beyond the physical, though: by undergoing a quick and simple process to fuse certain tendrils, Mahweir are able to directly connect their minds to one another. This process is like unfolding a piece of your brain and linking directly to another person’s. Mahweir may spend the majority of their life as one super-individual, or may live in many as it suits their needs. A Mahweir maintains their individuality of consciousness throughout this process, though extended fusion with other individuals can result in a sharing of memories and personality. Mahweir “Great Minds” take advantage of this quirk of biology to maintain living libraries containing thousands of years of memory and knowledge, which Mahweir individuals are encouraged to visit many times throughout their lives to upload and download new information with the mind. Mahweir are sexually reproducing gametomycetes, reproducing with others in a super-individual and spreading the zygotes through the air from structures grown on their backs. These zygotes remain inert until conditions are correct, after which they develop into Terreids, beginning the cycle again.

Two extra notes:

Mahweir are native to the same planet as the Zisk, sharing a long and sometimes fraught history with the other species.

Modern Mahweir super-individuals increase their mobility, function, and comfort when off-planet by living in mech suits. I’ll get around to drawing these soon.

The arthropod depicted in the above chart is a Fairy Hopper. They are roughly about the size of a medium-to-large Earth dog, with large, useless wings. Fairy Hoppers are secondarily flightless, instead using them for mating displays. They are domesticated by Zisk consorts as show animals, and make a common host for Canneir due to their durability lending a longer lifespan.

[kovacs-of-courage]

Eclipse AU(Tldr at bottom of post_

So I made a modern-sort of percy jackson inspired AU for Linked Universe, I think it's fun to write! I hope other people enjoy it. Here's my weird rough summary. Willing to answer any and all questions!

The Chain are lost in time, trapped in an unending cycle of life and death. A familiar tale to the hero's spirit. In their last confrontation with the incarnations of demise, and the demons he commanded--the whole of reality went asunder, and the power of the gods shattered entirely.

After that confrontation--the nine embodiments of the hero’s spirit suffered the same fate as their homeland--their souls washed away in caskets of golden tears and failed promises.

Hyrule was wiped away, wiped from the face of history and beyond. The goddesses had to begin their creation anew, without the baggage of those that caused it’s destruction in the first place.

Earth, modern earth, was created in it’s place--with a few key changes.

For all their efforts--the remains of their first creation leaked through, infecting the history of our earth like vile rot. The monsters were the first to make the breach, their combined hatred and inhuman will to survive holding their corrupted essences together through the transition.

There are stories of these creatures, often disregarded as exaggerated hyperbole by historians, or metaphors for natural disasters. 

They were not.

The Queen Gohma haunts the jungles of South America, legends of her urchin-like young making victims of unfortunate wanderers; sustaining her immortal lifespan in the depths of her hollowed tree.

Argorok terrorized the skies of medieval Europe, casting plumes of fire on the feudal armies that tried opposing it’s oppressive reign; her accompanying packs of gleeoks hunting ancient sailors in the atlantic.

And there were many, so many more monsters that endured the chaotic folding of time and space, the near-annihilation of any sense of self--as the mind and soul were put to battle against the last, drawn out gasps of their dying universe. The destruction was biblical, the return of gods seen only in legend--it’s a wonder that anything survived that cataclysm.

The chain suffered a similar fate--at first--their existence and histories torn apart atom by atom, their souls stretched paperthin as thought and reality blended together during the collapse of stars.

But they endured.

They tumbled through the new cosmos, the echoes of their shared spirit melding into the foundation of the universe--as immovable as gravity. When humanity came to prominence; the chain were there to follow. They were reborn, stripped of their memories, into a thousand different societies, and countless eras.

At times of crises and devastation; their nine courageous souls were reborn across the earth, their courage burning brighter than it had been before. They were prepared for the changing world, their skills old and new continuing with each reset.

There are some echoes of continuity, however, rules that their spirit must follow.

Twilight is related to time in some way, and they’re the two who meet again the most. 

Wind is always born in sea-faring communities, whether that be in the literal age of pirates, or as an early tribesmen at the dawn of civilization--rediscovering his aptitude for sailing.

And as the chain have been reborn, so too have many of Hyrule’s legends, their essences bleeding forth onto our realm. The memory of that primeval history scars our world, and fragments of every era hides under the bustling, nation-states of our modern age.

Some more aware than others.

Those with the blood of Hylia returned, bringing the memory of their goddess with them--thought to be eradicated. They possess no royal heritage, living as normal citizens, the zeldas being born nearby their links.

The sheikah bounced back quickly, as Impa(SS) managed to come out of the transition with her memories intact--assembling her fractured tribe during the stone ages. 

TLDR: Modern AU that’s sort of percy jackson in how Hyrule seeps over. Ancient things hidden in modern times, with the chain reborn worldwide.

[istariray23]

1st rain of May 2024

"As the sun-drenched days of summer give way to the first signs of rain after a prolonged drought, there is a transformative shift in the very fabric of the world around us. The dry, cracked earth eagerly drinks in the moisture, sending tendrils of life and vitality deep into the soil. Parched rivers and streams swell with newfound abundance, their once-depleted banks overflowing with the promise of sustenance and growth. Birds sing joyfully, leaves unfurl with renewed vigor, and the entire landscape is washed clean in a symphony of nature's rebirth. In this moment of transition from arid heat to cool showers, we are reminded of the resilience of the natural world and the enduring cycle of life, death, and rebirth that sustains us all. Let us embrace the first rain after so long with open arms and grateful hearts, celebrating the miracle of transformation and the endless possibilities that each new season brings. 🌦️🌿💧 #FromDroughtToDownpour" -iSTariray23

[loominggaia]

Agony Cradle + Wretch

Happy Halloween!

(lore under the cut)

Name: Agony Cradle

Class: Monster

PPL Category: 4 - Very dangerous and hostile to peoples.

Forger: Mankind's Disgrace

AGONY CRADLE

Agony cradles are fearsome monsters created by Mankind's Disgrace, the Divine of Hate. They resemble a tree-like stalk that's rooted into the ground, and on its other end is a cradle-shaped structure lined with long, sharp spires of bone. The cradle is full of hooked tendrils that the monster uses to ensnare its prey.

These monsters can replicate themselves using their roots. Each node in the root system can potentially grow into a new agony cradle if the right conditions are met. These monsters thrive in graveyards, hunting grounds, or wherever the earth has been soaked in blood. They are known to infest old battlefields in particular. They begin life as small sprouts, but will grow larger the more they consume.

These monsters feed on the bodies of peoples and beasts. They will spit out other monsters, which cannot nourish them. They are ambush-hunters that ensnare any prey that happens to get too close, and they are known to lure this prey using other prey.

When an empty agony cradle ensnares a person or animal, it hooks hundreds of tendrils into them. These tendrils deliver nutrients to the victim to keep them alive throughout their natural lifespan, but also deliver pain. The victim's constant screams lure people and animals alike towards the agony cradle, which snatches them up and consumes them.

The monster's lure will age and eventually die with time. When this victim is near death, the agony cradle replaces it with a new victim and then consumes it, beginning the cycle again. Especially large agony cradles may support multiple lures at once, generating more noise and attracting more prey.

WRETCH

When a creature becomes ensnared by an agony cradle and is used to lure prey, they are simply known as "agony lures". Wretches are a specific type of agony lure facilitated by the Cult of the Crescent, a faction which worships the Divine of Hate.

Wretches were deliberately placed in agony cradles as infants. Their mouths were sewn shut to silence their screams, for their cradles are not wild specimens that rely on ambush feeding, but rather farmed by cultists, who don't care for all the noise. The cultists tend to these monsters by feeding them sacrifices regularly. Meanwhile the wretch's misery is harvested into crystals, and these crystals are used to forge powerful weapons for Disgrace's evil army.

Most wretches spend their entire lives suffering in these cursed cradles, knowing nothing but pain and despair. When they grow old and die, the cultists simply replace them with another infant, and the crystals are charged with yet another lifetime of misery.

On rare occasions, wretches have been known to escape their cradles. They can also be deliberately set free. Either way, there isn't much relief to be had for them outside. After so much time in the cradle, their sewn mouths fuse shut and their bodies have become as grotesquely twisted as their minds.

Their long existence in the cradle has conditioned wretches to feed through their skin. They sustain themselves by bathing in blood and viscera. They may attempt to attack people and animals to feed, but given their frail conditions, they aren't much of a threat.

Crescent Cultists sometimes pull wretches from their cradles and use them for slave labor. A steady supply of blood keeps these poor souls docile, and the threat of being thrown back into their cradles keeps them obedient to their cruel masters.

CULTURE

Agony cradles are one of the most feared and loathed monsters on Looming Gaia. Thankfully, they are quite rare outside of Crescent Cult territory. In the wild, they are most often encountered at old, abandoned sites like mass graves, or deep in the wilderness, feeding primarily on animals and stray adventurers. On occasion, they are known to sprout around slaughterhouses.

Juvenile specimens are harmless to all but small animals and easily killed with fire. But unless their roots are dug up, more specimens may sprout in the future. Mature agony cradles are extremely dangerous, as they can ensnare anything that gets within their reach. The length of their tendrils is about twice length of their cradles, so larger specimens can have quite a long reach. Untangling a victim from these tendrils is a surgical procedure that can cause great injury if not done carefully.

Many souls have suffered in the clutches of these terrible monsters, but their fearsome reputation only motivates people to eradicate them more.

TRIVIA

-The world's largest known agony cradle was discovered on an ancient battlefield in the Serkel Desert. An adult roc was ensnared in its cradle, presumably luring other rocs and megafauna into the monster's clutches.

-Agony cradles can survive in a variety of conditions, including underwater. However, they will die with prolonged exposure to extreme heat or freezing temperatures. They can also die from direct flame, starvation, and physical damage.

-If this monster's cradle is destroyed but its roots are left in the ground, a new specimen may grow in its place. One way to prevent this is to dig up all the roots and destroy them. Alternatively, the roots can be left in the ground and magic rituals can be used to purify the area of blood and dark energy. The roots will remain dormant so long as the area is not tainted again.

-Adult wretches have developed an astronomically high pain tolerance, both physical and mental. This allows them to wield cursed weapons and objects that most peoples cannot.

-Some wretches are so physically twisted that they lose all mobility, even becoming blind and deaf in some cases. Others fair much better, and may even be fit enough to put up a fight. In desperate situations, the Cult of the Crescent has been known to arm them and send them into battle.

*

Questions/Comments?

Lore Masterpost

Read the Series

[identityquest]

decided to repurpose my oc final victim bc 1) i got a narrative they could fit into and 2) always wanted one of them gayass helmet head characters

The Final Victim was the last commissioned pilot in a series of interstellar travelers called "Star Runners." At the time the narrative would take place, there'd be approximately 30 Runners in total. All the Runners are the same species and from the same planet.

The Star Runners' home planet was an Earth-like one in a small, out-of-the-way system near the edge of the galaxy. It was home to uncountable unique cultures and societies, which were plagued with international conflict. However, it was still a beautiful and prosperous planet, and it was quickly approaching a true space age.

For reasons unknown, the sun their planet orbited suddenly soured. It rapidly cycled closer to death and began threatening to nova, imperiling all life on the planet, the planet itself, and the entire solar system. The people of the planet had next to no recourse; they hadn't yet gained true reliable interstellar flight, nor where they capable of quickly constructing ships large enough to house any significant number of people. Instead, they focused all their resources, energy, and research into one objective: calling for help.

Countries previously at war came together to focus on two things: developing sustained ultrafast interstellar flight, and constructing as many small vessels capable of this flight as they could. These single man starships would be sent out into the universe to find other, more advanced civilizations, and beg them for help. They were allowed to offer anything in exchange for said help, so long as it meant the planet and its people would be saved.

These messengers were the Star Runners. Each Runner's vessel could support life in deep space for up to a year, and was capable of working both on- and off-planet. The true marvel were their engines, capable of propelling the vessel and its pilot hundreds of light years in a near instant. Each time a vessel was completed, a pilot was quickly chosen, and then sent off in a new direction. Nearly 100 Runners in total were sent before the last, the Final Victim, volunteered.

There was no guarantee the runners would find help in the short time they had. There was no guarantee they'd find anyone in the direction they were sent; their planet was pre-contact. Many simply disappeared, never heard from again. Others did accomplish their initial goal: making contact. They were astonished to find that the universe was full of advanced, space-faring peoples, some even in their own galaxy. They begged these people for aid, but none ever came. Time and time again they were turned away, shunned, or outright ignored.

At the end of the year their ships were made to last, each Star Runner attempted to return home. Those who survived the trip were greeted with cataclysm. There was nothing left; shortly after the Final Victim left home, their star went nova unpredictably. Nothing was left but ruins.

The remaining Star Runners found another, eventually. They decided to leave again, use what little time they had left to explore the universe and spread the memory of their people. None expected to live long, running low on supplies, air, and their vessels ready to break at any moment.

Fate was cruel to the ones left behind. None of the remaining Star Runners succumbed to exposure. They lived longer than they expected, than they should have. Weeks turned to months and then years, and soon centuries and eons passed. They still travel, keeping in touch with one another when they can. But they're not quite the same as they used to be, twisted by pain and spite and the grudges they hold against those who could have helped but didn't. Those who don't keep in touch twist further, eventually succumbing to madness and wreaking havoc across the cosmos with strange powers the others swear they shouldn't have.

They won't ever forgive what happened to their people. But other than that they're pretty cool, pretty chill. They're kinda like if a malevolent ghost rolled up to the bar at the edge of town every so often and no one blinked, and even played pool with said ghost. God save anyone they have a grudge against, though.

[jade-of-mourning]

hey. I’m back. you probably didn’t miss me LOL, but I saw your response to my ask and I got really excited 😭

okay so I actually sent the ask about posting to ao3 with the avatar mako concept in mind cuz I love making my non-avatar faves the avatar,,, and then I noticed you said asks about hcs and stuff are welcome so⁉️⁉️

I would love to hear more about the avatar mako au if you’re willing (that summary has me SO pumped btw)

and if it’s not too much of a bother, would you mind an ask about a little blurb idea I had but don’t really know how to write? I appreciate the word vomit response btw it makes me feel appreciated!! as you can probably tell I do a little word vomit when I get excited so. lol. love when my insanity is reciprocated :]

-🐌

welcome back anon! it's lovely to hear from you again <3

ah yes i too am a fan of reading non-avatar!avatar aus; they're so fun! also ty for enabling to talk about my au gfsjhjbhkfsdgjh i'll word vomit beneath the cut lol

and finally, yes! feel free to send it in :) i'd be happy to help if i can, though no guarantees </3

the au starts about four years prior to when book 1 takes place in lok, so mako, bolin, and asami are all aged down four years while the equalist revolution is not yet on the horizon — though i'm keeping the aid kids roughly the same age as they were, just because i want to play off their dynamic :P

in the context of Why No Avatar Korra, aang's temporary death during the crossroads of destiny led the avatar spirit to pass onto a water tribe child — until aang promptly un-died and raava returned, with a small part of her spirit left in the other to sustain their survival. (kind of playing off the avatar!yue theory and some of those theories floating around from book 1's airing lol.) so basically when aang died 54 years later, raava was unable to move on to the next avatar immediately, so she waited in a sort of suspended stasis until the not-avatar passed and the cycle returned at earth. i'm not sure how much i'll actually explore this in the fic, if at all, but yeah here's the explanation.

so mako is technically the earth avatar, but his firebending visibly pulled up first so he was just assumed to be a firebender. fast forward, dead parents & pre-canon sort of plays out as i tend to headcanon it, including lots of casual Bad Things and Horrible Trauma-Inducing Circumstances. however, as mako gets older he starts to realize that there might be a slight issue in that he can bend both fire and earth.

okayyy… okay this is fine. it's probably because his parents are from both nations. (he breaks into the library to verify that no, dual benders do not exist even in mixed families.) he doesn't know what the triple threats would do to him if they found out — would they exploit him further, or would they straight up kill him? he keeps it a secret from everyone, including bolin, because for all that he loves bolin considerably more than he loves life itself, bolin is also largely terrible at keeping secrets and this isn't something anyone can ever know. he doesn't practice any of the other elements, sticking to firebending exclusively, so aside from this added weight of such a heavy secret on his shoulders, up to fourteen it all goes the same.

(some casual Bad Things include, but are not limited to: the horrors of industrial age 1920s child homelessness, recruitment into the gang, lightningbending, and being trained specifically by zolt for intimidation factor and potential takeover. there's an unfortunate amount of child abuse and exploitation going on there.)

and then he's at a transaction with the triple threats when they get busted by the police, including lin beifong herself. mako is very much a fighter and very good at it, in that despite having not been trained properly, he's still vicious and entirely desperate due to his determination to stick around for bolin. he will bite your head off if he feels backed into a corner and will do whatever it takes to come out on the other side. his rage at the world has yet to subside after six years on the streets at age fourteen. he has zero chill and has no slowly coming sense of stability that he's on the cusp of gaining around his introduction in canon. he is both way worse and way better at repressing his feelings here than he is at eighteen, but that'll probably get explored in the fic, so i'll leave it here. anyway this is where lightning-happy mako slips up and accidentally earthbends directly at the Chief; and where most officers would've probably just let it slide under the assumption that they were going crazy, lin beifong does not do crazy.

so this is where the fic starts, as you probably read from the first draft snippet. a lot of set up that will probably never come up, at least not so explicitly like this, but it'll probably write itself in somehow. going on, we've got some air island arrival shenanigans, where mako first tries denial, realizes that it's not going to work, and outwardly verbally acquiesces with the whole fine-you-caught-me-i'll-be-the-avatar bullshit. internally, he is calculating the price of the artifacts in the room and the chances of him grabbing bolin from headquarters and the two of them bailing it out of the city with the sold-artifacts' profit.

so the question is, why would mako run when he's being offered the opportunity to have some semblance of safety and comfort for the first time in his life?

because mako, disbeliever of pacifism, is convinced that tenzin is going to kill him once he realizes that it isn't worth the effort trying to domesticate this violent street kid who's experienced an unbelievable amount of trauma and has a learned, deep-set cynicism for the world — if it's even possible at all. that tenzin will quickly come to deem that the world may as well wait another decade-plus for a better avatar. mako's selfish and even if he knows that his death would enable an actually competent avatar that would acutally help the world to be reborn, he refuses to leave bolin alone (even if a small part of him knows that if it weren't for bolin, him being so very tired so very often probably would've just allowed this path to happen). that's a major-minor plot point.

i'll leave it at that for now before i just write out my entire outline in this post :P but yeah, it'll feature mako learning to care for the world again, plus some quality mako & jinora friendship, bolin acquiring a mother figure in pema, and a peculiar mako & asami relationship after events in which, and i quote from my outline chapter summary, "Mako discovers that trying to steal from Rich Girl Asami Sato is a bad idea."

[artforsimps]

Do vegans think we’ll just make a big grave yard for animals that died at old age? Do they think we’ll rip up forests and dig individual graves for each animal on earth with a head stone? They’d love that. They already don’t have a problem with habitats and rainforests being ruined for agave and whatever vegan “alternative” is popular. They don’t even bother with the cruelty of humanity being abused to produce their almond milk and raw sugar and chocolate

When do we stop farming? We make enough food to feed everyone on earth as is the only thing stopping us is the price. When we stop farming animals there won’t be leather that will last decades compared to fast fashion coats that rip within a single year of ownership. We won’t have wool either. What will they feed their precious rescue animals? Or should they be let loose to rip up some wild animals for fun? Loose dogs probably cause more harm to farm animals than the fucking butcher. A dog will get in the pen running around ripping out fur until they find one weak enough that they can tear into. They won’t even eat it. It’s entertaining for pets. The farmer is forced to kill the dog so it won’t get loose again because the owner won’t discipline it. Sure the dairy industry has its faults it produces green house gases and there are bad farmers but the same goes for the vegan food industry. who’s going to root for the vegan calling for the starvation of species and supports pets which literally kills hundreds of animals a year. When should vegans stop the death of animals? It’s part of a natural cycle. We’re born, we work, we eat, we die and mushrooms eat us. Animals are born they make milk they have kids they die we eat them then we die. Our pets eat meat and they can’t eat anything other than that and live off of it. Eating vegetables would make them slowly starve to death. A pet would eat their dead owner out of desperation we can’t just feed them every dead person on earth they’d get sick and die. By regulation and rules around raising and eventual humane slaughter we reduce suffering. Meat is a way of life.

Don’t even get me started on how vegans appropriate cultural foods as alternatives or hop onto whatever knew food is cool and claiming they invented it or how exclusionary it is for people with allergies or eating disorders or the fat phobia and entitled-ness or the wealth gap from how expensive their appropriation makes everyday food.

Mug you wnat to reduce harm to animals raise them yourself so you aren’t the one creating a demand for abuse or sorce your products through your own research. If you wnat happy chicken eggs raid happy chickens they’ll lay as much eggs as they are wel taken care of. Take. A class on how to butcher humanely without drawing it out. Use every part of the animal. Leather can last shears longer than plastic. Sheeting wool in the summer prevent heatstroke on sheep and creates sustainable clothing or even wall insulation. Milk can make cheese and butter to use as fat in cooking just like animal fat can be used kn cooking without needing to grow large plots of land for oil. Properly rendered tallow can moisturize the skin and be used for soap. Tools made form bone get stronger with age. Thousands of cultures have used bone tools for centuries for a reason. Plastic lasts for ever but breaks in a week. Bones are found thousands of years after the animal dies just imagine how long it could last after being processed into a tool. We have tools named after the use of bone as a material form how will it works like bone folders. If you want to be sustainable be sustainable but don’t creat an entire hierarchy of something as important as food to feel good about yourselves. It’s behind pay walls, it’s inaccessible to people with multiple allergies or eating disorders. Grandma and grandpa can’t raise a hoe and sow corn to survive winter. Don’t tell people they should starve because they can’t afford to and aren’t physically able to reach your “moral” high ground.

Build a fucking homestead and leave us alone

[xartus]

Thing about the cosmic deities is that, they exist and function completely without us, and have forever, and will forever, and some speak to us and some don't and some choose when and where.

The sun; the manifestation of growth, exists eternal

The moon; the manifestation of the arcane, exists eternal

The Earth; the manifestation of life, exists eternal

Do They hear our prayers? It doesn't matter, they sustain the cosmos, and we exist within them regardless

Does the Undying Life, the Path to Death, the Bridge, the Dying-and Rising of the Cycles, do They hear us? Perhaps, certainly entire religions are built around Them. But are They a *they*, or a function? An already existant, preconfigured mechanism of the cosmos? A road instead of a warden upon one?

[africantraveltour]

How Beneficial Exploring The Serengeti Calving Season Can Be?

In the heart of East Africa lies a natural wonder that captivates both wildlife enthusiasts and conservationists alike - the Serengeti. Renowned for its breathtaking landscapes and extraordinary wildlife, the Serengeti National Park hosts two remarkable events that define the rhythm of life in this iconic ecosystem - the Calving Season and the Great Migration. In this article, you can embark on a journey to explore the wonders of nature as witnessed during these two awe-inspiring phenomena.

The Serengeti Calving Season unfolds annually in the southern plains of the park. This period marks the beginning of a new life cycle as thousands of wildebeest, zebras, and other herbivores gather to give birth. The timing is not arbitrary; it is synchronized with the onset of the region's short rains, ensuring an abundance of nutritious grass for new-borns.

Serengeti Calving Season

Explore The Beauty Of Great Migration For Memorable Experience

The plains come alive with the sounds of hooves and the cries of young animals taking their first steps. Predators are drawn to the spectacle, creating a delicate balance between life and survival. The Serengeti's Calving Season is not just a visual spectacle; it is a testament to the resilience of nature and the intricate web of life that sustains the entire ecosystem.

The Serengeti Great Migration is a phenomenon that has earned its place as one of the most astonishing natural events on Earth. This annual journey involves millions of wildebeest, zebras, and gazelles as they traverse the Serengeti and the adjacent Masai Mara in search of fresh pastures and water sources. Migration is a perpetual cycle dictated by the availability of resources and the changing seasons.

Starting in the southern Serengeti, the herds move in a clockwise direction, crossing rivers and vast plains, facing challenges such as predators and unpredictable weather. The Great Migration is not merely a spectacle; it is a dynamic force that shapes the landscape and sustains the Serengeti's delicate ecosystem.

Both the Calving Season and the Great Migration hold immense significance in the realm of conservation and ecotourism. The Serengeti's ecosystem is a fragile balance, and these events emphasize the interconnectedness of its various inhabitants. Conservation efforts are crucial to preserving the Serengeti's biodiversity, ensuring the survival of these iconic species for generations to come.

Moreover, the awe-inspiring nature of the Calving Season and the Great Migration attracts ecotourists from around the globe. Responsible tourism practices contribute to the local economy and fund conservation initiatives, fostering a sustainable coexistence between humans and wildlife.

The Serengeti's Calving Season and the Great Migration are not merely events; they are nature's timeless ballet, showcasing the intricate dance of life, death, and renewal. As you witness the ebb and flow of these cycles, you can gain a deeper appreciation for the delicate balance that sustains the Serengeti. These natural wonders serve as a reminder of the profound interconnectedness of all living beings and the imperative to protect and preserve the treasures that the Serengeti holds for current and future generations. Adventure lovers should always go for the best tour packages that can help them capture great memories for life. Go ahead! And give yourself the best experience and enjoy the beauty and essence of the Serengeti great migration and the calving season without delays.

Author’s Bio:

Now, it's time to explore the beauty of the renowned Serengeti Calving Season, Serengeti's great Migration for the best experience. The African Travel Tour is the ultimate platform if you want to go for the best experience and create memories for life.

[brewerssupplies]

because I love worldbuilding and it's a ton of fun seeing your answers, here's my weird niche worldbuilding question for Kovaud- what's some of the common foodstuffs in any given area you'd like to describe? Like farmed grains and veggies and fruits or livestock, or are there any unique foodstuffs found on Kovaud that don't exist here on Earth that you've thought about?

So a big one is that goodberries are naturally occurring, the only thing the spell does is imbue them with the magic to sustain a creature for as long as they do and restore a hit point. Goodberries resemble a mix between cranberries and blueberries in shape and color. They are often used in wines, jams, ales, and other similar foodstuff. Another fun fact is they are in fact not even technically native to Kovaud, they were brought over from the previous world in the cycle by Kevin Goodberry an inhabitant of that world that managed to survive its destruction.

Most of the farming and agriculture in the nation of Emeras is done around the Thundering Plateau as it is experiences a fair amount of rain throughout the year. The Ruby Marshes are another place where agriculture is common in Emeras. They're druidic magic allows them to farm a variety of crops from just about anywhere on Kovaud.

A lot of recipes make use of meat and other parts from the various fantastical monsters and creatures that exist. In Hjellvast the body of a single dread wyvern can be a boon to the food stock of a village. Making use of the abundance of meat they provide and even incorporating its venom which has a sour-sweet taste into recipes.

The inhabitants of the Ghost Archipelago shun the consumption of fish due to the curse laid upon the Mournful Sea. The curse that makes sealife that have died within the past 24 hours rise from death to terrorize the sea. As you would imagine improper consumption of fish can be fatal. They do a lot of trade with Hjellvast and Spyros for food. The ghost elves and soberek do maintain their own ancient agricultural practices on the islands.

Spyros is a vast desert and sees a variety of hardy and hydrating plant life. The diet of an average citizen of Spyros is heavily plant based. The most common crop is gritroot, a vegetable that grows entirely under the sand in large masses. It has high water retention which it leeches from further underground.

Kovaud is also home to livestock equivalent to what's standard on Earth. There are some exceptions however. In Emeras, Hjellvast, and Xyrno there are the Kravwen, a large four-legged bovine creature that can get anywhere between 5-18 feet tall. They are excellent producers of milk that lends itself well to the production of butter and cheese. Ouroboros has the serpentine behir which they farm for meat. The nation of Saurdane is host to a variety of traveling herds of livestock which are shepherded by the traveling clans of giantkind (orcs, goliaths, and firbolg are included as members of giantkind).

And that's where I'll end this post as it's starting to get a little long! Thank you very much for the ask! Gave my brain good exercise!

[mittensmorgul]

it’s a bummer to see you can’t enjoy the ending. I hope someday you can come around it it. It wasn’t perfect but it didn’t nuke its integrity. i think the heart of the show really shines through and it’s a shame that it’s not being appreciated bc there’s so much shipping drama 😣

Hi there!

I... first of, I really need people to understand this... the travesty of the finale for me has almost nothing to do with “shipping drama.”

Yes, I see the wild conspiracy theories flying around, and I’m honestly concerned for some of those folks and hope they can find a way to make peace with this in whatever way they can, because we aren’t likely to ever get a better answer than that this is legitimately the ending that Dabb thought was best, despite years of us seeing the best of his writing choices and guiding Sam, Dean, and Cas to grow past the roles that Chuck would’ve forced them to fulfill, and that at the end it fell flat because he couldn’t actually come up with a better ending than “this was always their destiny, free will is a lie, and these characters had nothing outside of the revenge quest they’d been raised for since birth and manipulated into over and over for the entertainment of a vengeful god.”

I can see how “surface level” viewers would feel that this one basic narrative point was satisfying, that Sam and Dean had grown beyond their own hopeless cycle of self-sacrifice that had driven the narrative for so many years. The fact that they both acknowledged that they should allow their stories to end in that way was satisfying... but only in the shallowest and most detached read of the narrative. Like, is this really the ONLY thing these two characters learned in the last 15 years? If so, that is BEYOND depressing af.

And even THAT message lost all narrative weight when the two of them were once again reunited in death, as if nothing else had ever mattered in their lives. As if neither of them had ever outgrown the codependency that had driven so many of those previous self-sacrifices and refusals to let go of each other even in death.

So yeah, in the absolute most basic sense, I suppose I can see how casual viewers or people who aren’t actually invested in these characters could find that at least narratively coming back to a starting point.

But narratives don’t actually work that way, and that’s not the point of watching fifteen years of story develop in between.

This story wasn’t JUST about Sam and Dean needing to accept that death might be okay actually.

This story was also about free will, fighting for humanity as a whole but also their OWN humanity and self-identities. In Dean’s case, the absolutely transformative growth from feeling like nothing but a hammer, a killer, a tool to be used. And then less than an episode and a half later, after finally accepting that truth into his heart and using it to defeat the original creator and reclaim the story of his own life for himself... he gets pied in the face after flippantly talking about his destiny and having no choice, and then three scenes later he literally dies impaled on a great big nail... like a hammer...

So I would kindly ask folks who feel satisfied by that shallowest possible takeaway of this episode, and maybe invite folks to look just under that surface. Try to understand why loads of us will NEVER feel satisfied with this ending, and why it truly does feel like the most hopeless version of the story. Like even in defeating Chuck, they could never be allowed to own their own stories and what happened to them after that point was just a twisted version of the “destiny” that drove Chuck’s entire plotline for them anyway.

Please understand where we’re seeing this as horrifically painful irony rather than some beautiful circular narrative about letting go.

For a lot of us, the shipping stuff would’ve been the cherry on top of the sundae. We would’ve been happy with a scoop of plain vanilla, though. We would’ve been happy for anything that honored the journey to freedom, and the choice at any sort of a different life of their own making than literally falling back on a nail fighting off one of John’s unresolved hunts and a vampire who had literally never been named in canon before, yet who Dean instantly recognized somehow... 

but sure, for those of us who felt that “the heart of the show” was all the stuff that the finale actually erased-- that “family don’t end in blood,” and that this was actually not a show about just two brothers but the love of their found family and coming to terms with the choices they actually HAD made for themselves versus the narrative that Chuck kept centering them in DESPITE what they would choose for themselves, the finale basically told us no, everything you ever found of value in this story actually meant nothing. It told us that Chuck’s story for them was their only truth in the end, and their only freedom was to be found in death.

Please, I am begging people, stop trying to gaslight us that this was some beautiful ending. Maybe think for a second that “your read” of the narrative that allows you to find peace with the ending is not what we saw and loved about this story for the 326 episodes leading up to this finale.

And please try to understand that we were not wrong to see the entire narrative through this lens. Because we were literally validated IN CANON, and told that we understood the depth of the story and the characters just fine, actually. There’s literally ONE episode of the entire series that burns it all down in a bewildering pile of wtf. And that’s #327. That throws that entire read out the window to well actually us all back into Chuck’s literal ending... This was literally the ending Chuck wanted to force them to enact for him, and it’s what ended up happening even after they defeated him-- the ultimate Big Bad of the entire series should’ve been defeated, but instead he pulled off one final victory over the entire story.

Becky: No. You can't-- Chuck: I did. Becky: Y- This is just an ending. Chuck: Yeah. I don't know how I'm gonna get there, but I know where I'm goin'. Becky: B-But it's so... dark. Chuck: But great, right? I can see it now -- "Supernatural: The End". And the cover is just a gravestone that says "Winchester". The fans are gonna love it. Well? Becky: It's awful! Horrible. It's hopeless. You can't do this to the fans. What you did to Dean? What you did to Sam? Chuck: There, see? It's making you feel something. That's good, right?

and

Dean: Well, what now? You're not gonna dust us. Chuck: Oh, yeah? Why not? Dean: Because you're holding out. For your big finish. Yeah, we know about your galaxy-brained idea, how you think this story is gonna go. Sam got a little look into your draft folder. Chuck: Sam's visions -- they weren't drafts. They were memories. My memories. Other Sams and other Deans in other worlds. But guess what. Just like you, they didn't think they'd do it, either. But they did. And you will, too. Dean: No. Not this Sam. And not this Dean. So you go back to Earth 2 and play with your other toys. Because we will never give you the ending that you want. Chuck: We'll see.

And even in DEFEAT Chuck thought he understood these characters, thought that having rendered him powerless they would finally take their revenge and kill him, but they didn’t, because he never actually understood these characters at all. And the story he tried to force them into from day one was never about THEM, it was about HIM. 

And then Dean gets like two whole days of freedom and choice and is apparently incapable of making any of the choices that don’t throw him immediately back into Chuck’s favorite story. Like none of that resolution in the previous episode meant anything at all. He even SAYS it in the finale:

Dean: Yeah, no. I think about 'em, too. You know what? That pain's not gonna go away. Right? But if we don't keep living, then all that sacrifice is gonna be for nothing.

And then two scenes later the show gives us the Nelson Muntz HA HA and Dean is no longer living, and Sam is left to carry on as a shell of himself and wander off into Blurry Wife Land to devote any even remotely content moment of the rest of his years to raising a  Replacement Dean to fill the void, and is never able to pick up the pen to write anything better of his own life than Chuck would’ve dealt him in the first place.

So I’m glad that top-layer takeaway is sustaining and enough for you. It wasn’t, and will never be enough for the rest of us.

What was actually real in all of this? We were.

Until we weren’t.

And that’s honestly a shit message to be pushing on people in the wake of it all. So please stop.

I should actually thank you for the kind intent with which your message is phrased, but that doesn’t make it feel less hilariously awful. Though I chose this one to reply to as the least insulting of all the messages currently in my inbox on this subject. So thanks for that, at least.

[fresh-prince-of-denmark]

Cyberpunk 2077 Literary Analysis Pt 7: Leave me Alone, Hemingway, You’re Supposed to be Dead

Surprise bitch I bet you thought you’d seen the last of me.

Cyberpunk spoilers ahead!

Cyberpunk meta literary analysis masterpost here 

Okay, so I thought I would be done with this, but it kinda feels like Hemingway has me by the left asscheek and won’t let me go as of late. So here we are: Cyberpunk literature meta-analysis part 7: For Whom the Bell Tolls

Hemingway comes up a few times in Cyberpunk, too many times to ignore. It’s not surprising, really. We know that Johnny is actually a pretty well-read guy from some of his passing comments, and if I had to guess, he’d probably really connect to Hemingway. In fact, if you play Johnny’s ending with Rogue, the final quest is called “For Whom the Bell Tolls” (which is also cool since it keeps the theme of all the missions being song titles, as this is also a Metallica song). But for once, this analysis isn’t entirely about Johnny or V. Hopefully this rings a bell (pun intended), as we’re very explicitly told who else really connected to Hemingway.  

Jackie Wells.

During the quest Heroes, Mama Wells will ask you to go through Jackie’s garage to find something for the ofrenda. One option is a book, For Whom the Bell Tolls by Earnest Hemingway. Misty will comment that he used to read it before a big job, and that it was important to him. If you choose to bring the book for the ofrenda, V will “read from the book” (I put this in quotes because the passage they read has actually been misattributed, it is a Hemingway quote, but not from FWTBT, rather from another of his works titled “Men at War”):

“When you go to war as a boy, you have a great illusion of immortality. Other people get killed, not you... Then, when you are badly wounded the first time, you lose that illusion, and you know it can happen to you.”

The majority of our main characters start out as The Fool, naive and feeling like they’re on top of the world, the kind of hubris that can only come with youth. Yet, like Hemingway says, it takes a bullet to give one a dose of reality.

For Whom the Bell Tolls is a story of war. Our protagonist, Robert Jordan (I’d be really interested to know if Johnny’s birth name, Robert John Linder, was inspired by this), leaves his cushy job as a college instructor in the United States to join the Republican side in the Spanish Civil War. Robert begins the novel fairly bland; he has no real friends, no real family, and he feels completely disconnected from the world. In all honesty, he’s boring. Like, if wet cardboard were a person. He doesn’t really care if he lives or dies, not because he’s a badass, but because he really doesn’t have anything to lose. No passion, no connections, nothing he loves that ties him to this earth despite the fact that he is a man of such strong convictions that he willingly joins this war. Robert is tasked with destroying a bridge, meeting comrades of varying philosophies along the way, who become a kind of found family to him. Despite going out of his way to avoid making connections, he falls in love, not just with the love interest Maria, but with his friends, finally giving him something worth fighting for, something connecting him to this life. The novel concludes as the group finally blow up the bridge (a task done in vain, since the Republican side has ultimately sustained more losses than the Fascists), and Robert is injured. He convinces the others to leave him behind so he can buy them time to escape. The novel ends just as it begins; our protagonist lying in wait in a forest, gun in hand, “heart to the ground,” on a bed of pine needles. (For more on cycles/mirrors/reflections, see here).

While there’s a much larger political message here that could parallel the themes of Cyberpunk, I want to focus more on the philosophical side, as it ties in with my previous analysis much more coherently. The biggest theme of this novel is about how interpersonal relationships are what matter most in this life, which is summarized very nicely by the poem by John Donne which not only lends the novel it’s name, but serves as it’s opening epitaph:

No man is an island,

Entire of itself.

Each is a piece of the continent,

A part of the main.

If a clod be washed away by the sea,

Europe is the less.

As well as if a promontory were.

As well as if a manor of thine own

Or of thine friend's were.

Each man's death diminishes me,

For I am involved in mankind.

Therefore, send not to know

For whom the bell tolls,

It tolls for thee.

This poem and the overall meaning of the book work on two levels. The most obvious is that we all die one day, that mortality is fleeting. But on another level, No man is an island. Our identity is tied within our communities, those that love us, and those we live for. “Therefore, send not to know/For whom the bell tolls/It tolls for thee.” Each time a person dies, a piece of all those who loved them dies with them. Funerals are not just for the deceased, but for us, a chance to bury the pieces of ourselves that died with them. “Each is a piece of the continent/Apart of the main/If a clod be washed away by the sea/Europe is the less.”

Johnny is incredibly similar to Robert Jordan. Despite knowing a lot of people and having a lot of connections, Johnny is not particularly loved, and that feeling is mutual. He even tells V that they are the only person who knows him that that doesn’t hate his guts. Both Robert and Johnny are men who base their morals and identity solely on principal and ideals; standing up for what is right, fighting against oppression, rebellion, but that passion is not borne from interpersonal relationships and connections. It is made of hate of the world, not love of their fellow man. This leads to one of Johnny’s fatal flaws; he did not fear death, because he did not feel as if he had anything to lose. He was consumed and driven by hate, not love, leading to all of his failed relationships. Had Johnny something to lose, he may not have taken all of the stupid the risks he did, acting as if he did not care about his own life.

V, in many ways, parallels Maria, Robert’s love interest in the novel. While Robert salvation lies in the love he has for all of his newfound friends, the main focus is on the love interest, Maria. Here’s an interesting bit of dialogue between Maria and Robert:

"Now, feel. I am thee and thou art me and all of one is the other. And I love thee, oh, I love thee so. Are you not truly one? Canst thou not feel it?"

"Yes," he said, "it is true."

"And feel now. Thou hast no heart but mine."

"Nor any other legs, nor feet, nor of the body."

"But we are different," she said. "I would have us exactly the same."

"You do not mean that." (20.66-71)

In this moment, Robert and Maria are talking about how they feel as if they have fused into the same person, as if they share a body. Yet there is a key difference in how they view their relationship: Maria wishes that they were exactly the same, while Robert states that she doesn’t mean that. Similarly, while Johnny seems to enjoy the growth he and V provide one another, his greatest fear is V/himself being changed into something they are not. Hmmmm….

Johnny and V are very different people by the end of Cyberpunk, finding meaning in relationships just as Robert has. For V, this means Judy, River, Panem, Kerry, Misty, Vik, etc. And for Johnny, this means V, and by extension, all of the people who make up V’s identity through their love and friendship. Despite dying and rising again as lines of code, V is able to finally show Johnny what it means to be human. His journey, I believe, can be accurate summed up by this quote from the novel:

“This was the greatest gift that he had, the talent that fitted him for war; that ability not to ignore but to despise whatever bad ending there could be. This quality was destroyed by too much responsibility for others or the necessity of undertaking something ill planned or badly conceived. For in such things the bad ending, failure, could not be ignored. It was not simply a possibility of harm to one's self, which could be ignored. He knew he himself was nothing, and he knew death was nothing. He knew that truly, as truly as he knew anything. In the last few days he had learned that he himself, with another person, could be everything. But inside himself he knew that this was the exception. That we have had, he thought. In that I have been most fortunate. That was given to me, perhaps, because I never asked for it. That cannot be taken away nor lost. But that is over and done with now on this morning and what there is to do now is our work.”

In addition, Robert’s final conversation with Maria as he is convincing the others to leave him behind so he can buy them time to escape is nearly identical to Johnny and V’s final conversation:

"Listen to this well, rabbit," he said. He knew there was a great hurry and he was sweating very much, but this had to be said and understood. "Thou wilt go now, rabbit. But I go with thee. As long as there is one of us there is both of us. Do you understand?" (43.319)

Here, Robert is telling Maria that because they are the same, only one of them needs to survive in order for them both to live. Compare that to what Johnny tells V:

V: For fucks sake, defend yourself! You’re not even trying!

Johnny: Hmm…sounds kind of familiar. We know that attitude. See, V? Stayin’ with you whether you like it or not.”

This scene is further paralleled by the fact that V crosses a bridge to reach Mikoshi, which is set to be destroyed, just as Robert was tasked with destroying the bridge. Furthermore, in the Suicide ending, the overall theme is about how V “never realized just how many friends they had.” Friends who, in all other endings, were willing to die for V, as losing them meant a piece of themselves dying with them. Similarly, Robert considers killing himself as his friends escape, as the pain of his injury becomes too much to bear. However, he is comforted knowing that his sacrifice will mean that they live, telling himself, "I don't mind this at all now they are away.” Despite now having something to live for, like Johnny, they are still able to brave their deaths as now they have been given meaning. And not just any meaning; love. No longer hate, or rage, or blind idealism. Love. 

This is the overall message of Cyberpunk: maybe you won’t change the world. Maybe you won’t win the war. Maybe your sacrifice isn’t going to change history. Maybe, in the grand scheme of the universe, you don’t matter, and you won’t ever be a legend. But you do matter to the people in your life. No man is an island. We were made to be in each other’s lives, to love one another, to change one another for the better. And that’s what life is all about.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Weird, “Chain Song.”

This one might be a bit cheesy, but I was feeling something feel good this morning. I hope you guys like it. 

The Commander  said it was the furthest human colony away from earth, and in fact, it was the furthest colony away from any sort of civilized society as far as anyone knew. The people who lived here had volunteered for the job and had been sent by the UN to pay of debts, prison sentences, or simply as a way to avoid homelessness. And now their job was to mine the asteroid fields for precious metals , usually by hand as spare equipment was hard to find and was rarely sent this far out in the system.

Commander Vir explained that their colony was technically outside the reach of GA control and was actually positioned in unclaimed airspace as far as anyone knew.

IN essence, these people were alone in the universe as far away from anything as anyone might be, and only receiving supplies once or twice a year.

The planet on which they lived wasn’t really a planet at all, but an exoplanet about the size of pluto, which they were steadily mining for it’s precious metals to be sent back to earth.

At that moment the Harbinger cargo bay held all the equipment these people would need to make the components to complicated mechanical devices including computers implanted electronics and projection screens for military installations.

They took a wide turn through the asteroid field, where, they could already, occasionally see small mining cycles with one or two riders floating on the back, one working to mine the metal and another working to make sure they did not float away from their post. Their ship was barely noticed as they passed by, except for when they got close enough for their shadow to fall over  the working figures.

They crested over another large asteroid, in a surprisingly tight belt and came across the small exoplanet around which much of the debris circled.  It was nothing special at first, smaller than the moon would have been back on earth, but a closer look at its rocky, dust-covered surface showed evidence of sustained human life: metal towers, footprints, vehicle tracks, and more branching outward across the entirety of the minuscule exoplanet.

On the bridge most of the crew was thinking the same thing. As the docking bay of the little planet came into view-- welded together by way of thousands of scraps of metal into an amalgamated monstrosity of a construction-- all of them shivered at the thought of living in such a desolate place. Commander Vir, while thinking the build was cool and well worthy of best-selling science fiction novel or action movie, found the place more than a little depressing to look at, as there were no stars nearby to light the dark little planet.

There was simply the space around and the human made lights which lit the docking bay surface.

Dr. krill was under the impression that the entire thing needed to be scraped and burned, so they could start over. He could not imagine how many deaths and injuries had been sustained creating this place.

Sunny had no real opinion, though her brother Cannon couldn’t help but find a strange and melancholy beauty about the place, as it was, somehow a statement of survival, and a symbol of hope to him rather than a demonstration of sadness.

The commander pulled up to gently maneuver their ship into place in the docking bay, which had slowly opened for them. Even the door to the docking bay looked as if it had been patched together like the most patchwork of quilts. On the outside of the docking bay figures in antiquated space suits: bulky and difficult to maneuver waved at them from the platform.

The door behind them closed, the sharp metal silent in space until the exact moment where the interior was pressurized. Commander Vir unbuckled his seat and ordered a small team to follow him as the dock workers secured their ship into place.

Stepping out into the musty air was a strange experience.

The docking bay echoed with voices and metal clanged constantly against itself.

The floor below them, the ceiling above them, and all around the ground and walls were made out of a patchwork of material. Rusted street signs, and caution signs were pinned up against the walls as in decoration.

Graffiti stained the metal with bright colors in pinks and faded yellow.

Small lights whirled overhead, dim and fading towards their last breath.

He was just beginning to think of how depressing it must be to live in a place like this when a figure approached them from the back their arms wide. They all blinked in surprise as the smiling figure burst into peals of delighted laughter and enfolded the commander in a full contact bear hug.

The man was at least two inches taller than the commander and had muscled arms that were about as big as the other man’s head. His teeth shone white against his dark skin and his wide, honest eyes. His dark hair was braided back into long plates that hung down to his lower back.

He pulled out of the hug and then kissed the commander on either cheek leaving him standing stunned and confused as he moved onto the rest of the party. He did the same for everyone alien or otherwise despite having no idea who he was.

Then he stepped back to stand before them.

The commander frowned in confusion, looking the other man over.

His garb was…. Rather unexpected for a place like this. His shirt was sleeveless, but the shirt he wore had been dyed a bright yellow and was drawn about with patterns and stained with dust. His pants were a bright green and tied with ribbons made in red from the top of the leg down to the lower knee. And then there was the metal, Just like the walls and floors it looked like it had been welded together using scrap pieces for parts, and he wore it like armor on his chest, and on his exposed arms like some sort of armor, though it looked more decorative than anything else.

He raised his hands out wide to either side, “I am station master Jicari and welcome, to the Paxicar mining colony.” His voice was deep and melodious resonating with a kind of accent that none of the could quite place. The smile never left the man’s face, “we are pleased to see outsiders, we don’t get many visitors.”

Looking around the room, they could see other figures going about their work. These figures too were brightly colored, and decorated in scrapped metal.

They waved enthusiastically at the newcomers.

Commander Vir scratched his head in surprise.

“Please, we will unload your cargo, and I will show you to our lovely home.”

The group glanced between each other not entirely sure if lovely was the right word for it. Krill was definitely thinking tetanus, but the captain shrugged. He liked this man already and his strange clothing.

He waved them forward with a smile that never faltered, and together they clopped over the metal flooring and up a set of stairs  where neon signs hung on the wall flickering slightly with disrepair.

They passed more men and women in the hallway all of them still dress in bright colors and decorated in metal. One woman wore a headdress that encased her ponytails in rings of metal all the way down her back. Another man wore a helmet that had delicate patterns of silver crawling down his cheek and around one eye.

And everywhere they went the people smiled at them.

Happy laughter echoed from the tunnels to their right and left.

At one point a group of children raced past the down the tunnel giggling and laughing bright rainbow colors flapping behind them in the darkness of the tunnel.

The spaces were not so cramped as they thought it might be and none of them felt claustrophobic walking down the hallway despite its low ceiling, exposed wires, and piping.

A dim blue glow emanated from the distant end of the hallway giving the metal interior a sort of atmospheric haze. 

Commander Vir thought he could hear the sound of rushing water.

“I…. Forgive me for sounding ignorant Mr. Jicari.”

“Just jicari will do.”

“Very well…. Then , lie I said, I don’t mean to sound insulting or anything but…. Your people they seem so…. Happy, and colorful. I haven't seen anything like it, not on earth, or Mars or anywhere else in the galaxy, and…. Well.”

His booming laugh echoed down the hall, “And you are wondering how a group of metal miners taken from prisons, and off the streets could find more happiness than those who still live on earth?”

He frowned a bit, “I was going to be more delicate about it, but yes.”

He continued to smile, “Because we have nothing.”

Commander vir frowned, “I’m confused.”

The man patted him on the back, “Of course you are.” The man patted him on the back, “You must understand, Adam that when we came here we had nothing, we had the clothes on our backs and the strength of our hands. Back on earth you can go and you can get rich and you can buy things. But the secret about things is that they do not make you happy. You think that getting a new car can make you happy, that going on exotic vacations can make you happy, well that is not the case because after a while you get used to that new car and soon enough exotic locations are commonplace. You will never be happy unless you find that happiness inside. Happiness is a decision we here have chosen.”

He glanced back at the small group that trailed behind him and smiled, “We are happy because we have nothing, and nothing forced us to look inwards at ourselves. The people who are not happy are not forced into it. They may do what they wish, but it is much better to be happy than it is to wallow in misery for our circumstances.”

The Commander nodded. He wasn’t entirely sure it was that simple, but he was willing to listen.

“And because we did not dwell on how miserable we could be, we made something beautiful, we tried to create with our hands, brighten our days with colors, and smiles, and laughter and stories. We created a culture of happiness.”

They continued to glance at each other, but as they were passed by in the hallways more hands waved at them and more smile were exchanged.

Jicari paused turning to look at them with his deep black eyes lined in wrinkles, “You are about to see the gem of the asteroid belt, something no outsider has ever seen before because they don’t bother to visit our “sad little mining colony.”

He stepped forward motioning them to follow.

And.they did as told stopping in their tracks eyes wide at the massive cavern that stood before them. What rose up before them was a beautiful city, not conventionally beautiful like it was made from white marble, but beautiful and strange in its construction. Gravity mats had been placed about the curvature of the inside of the exo planet allowing the city to climb the walls in a slow parabola upward. The buildings themselves were multi-leveled rising up into the darkness and lit from inside with a thousand little lights. Open cables and wires spilled down from the top of the buildings hanging downwards towards the streets.

The street itself was a walkway on two sides with a canal going down the middle. And the water there was crystal clear and lined with a strange green moss. Neon light lit the cavern with a hazy blue and pink lighting the people and their colorful garments from all sides.

The water sparkled with the pink and blue light as if it had been sprinkled with fairy dust.

Machinery melded with metal and was occasionally covered in delicate green climbing moss.

The people were not idle. Sparks flew from their hands as they worked to repair the buildings, some on the bottom floor and others high in the air. The sound of mallets and chisels rattled through the cavern.

A few people stood on metal rafts that slowly drifted down the length of the river.

And as always that purple blue haze backed everything lit form inside with that light pink, yellow and blue light.

They were walked through the city listening to the rhythmic clatter of tools, and the soft murmur of voices. The city had looked very small from the outside, but perhaps that was just their perception of how small the exo planet was. In reality the interior was quite large though it was not one hundredth of the interior.

Reaching the edge of the city, they could look upwards and see thousands of feet of open rock face being chiseled away by hand using pick axes and drills. Many of these people were held in place on wires or stood precariously on the edge of ledges without anything to hold the in place.

The group of them craned their necks back staring up at the massive walls of stone and a thousand lights that crawled across it reaching up into the darkness finally to be obscured by the blue haze.

“Its…. beautiful.” The commander was surprised at himself for saying it, but it really was true..

Jicari smiled, “it is beautiful, yes.”

He motioned them to follow, and they continued to do so winding up a few short switchbacks towards the base of the wall. Moss grew on either side of them adding a greeness to a place that shouldn’t have been green 

They were close to the wall of stone now able to see the workers and hear the clattering of their pick axes as they continually worked the stone . Sometimes they worked alone, and at other times they worked in teams of two, one person holding a chisel while the other used a mallet to beat herder into cracks within the stone.

Jicari turned to look at them and put a finger over his lips.

The group tilted their heads in surprise.

Then Jicari began to whistle.

The tune that he began had an immediate rhythm sharp and piercing enough to carry itself on echoes upwards to many of the workers at once. Krill grew woozy and had to steady himself against Cannon’s open arm as it began.

As soon as the whistling began there was a sudden dynamic change in the sound and movement of the workers. A short pause and then a clatter as all the pick axes and mallets hit at once following the beat set out by Jicari’s whistling. What had once been a clattering amalgamation of noise now turned itself into a steady pounding rhythm.

They listened in awe as the beat spread upwards as all the waiting humans latched on to the beat allowing their work to be the base for the music.

Jicari’s whistling continued, and voices followed soon after humming along with him at a steady pace to match the rhythm of their song. 

Krill was having a tough time staying awake 

The Drev and humans were having a tough time not humming along.

“Join us.” Jicari said, “Understand why we are happy here.” he motioned them forward, and the commander was the first to follow, interested.

And like humans do they began to match the song of the other humans humming along with the rhythm as Jicari lead them over to the wall.

They were met by a group of other miners who smiled openly and handed over pick axes to the newcomers still humming as they did.

“For some reason, I get the feeling you are getting free labor off us.” The commander teased quietly.”

Jicari just grinned, “Perhaps, but you might find you get something out of it too.”

The commander took the pick axe resting it against his leg as he pulled of his jacket and then his shirt. The marines followed his lead, and even the Drev were invited to join.

Krill floated next to Jicari half in and half out of consciousness. Jicar gently set him on the ground before walking over to join the newcomers.

The group of humans and Drev waited with their tools in hand for Jicari’s lead.

He lifted the pick axe and brought it down on one of the down beats, and then he began to sing. The beat was slow and steady carried by the thunder of axes against stone and the shedding of sparks. The rhythm had spread itself all the way up the wall until the entire cavern was echoing with the beat.

Each beat allowed for the worker to swing back and build up enough momentum for the next hit.

Slowly the new humans followed the example of the others, until, just like that they were following the same beat pattern. Their bodies swaying back and forth almost as if they were dancing. It took the Drev a bit longer, but soon enough they were one with the wall of humans.

Jicari’s voice was deep and powerful reverberating up the stone and down the line to the next human who took up the song with him. Her voice rung like a clear bell locking the beat into place as, one by one, other voices joined the song.

At first, it was a melancholy song about the stone and the axes, and the people who carried them, but as more voices joined in the sadness was replaced as hope took over weaving itself in through the music as an entire human population worked as one.  They sung about their home, about their families returning to a chorus of stone and hope  that didn't mind death so much, or the blackness, or the void separated from them by walls of stone.

It wasn’t long before the new humans understood the chorus and began to sing along with the workers sweat slicking their backs though they never dropped beat for a moment. Even the Drev continued to hum along, their powerful base voices lending a power behind Jicari’s words as they all continued to sing.

From where he sat half conscious Krill could see the humans as they swayed back and forth swinging the pick axes in slow under hand arches to gain the momentum they would need. And then came the powerful overhand throw that tighten the muscles of the back and sent rivulets of sweat dripping down onto stone. Muscles flexed fighting against the stone returning the force.

He couldn’t say how long they kept that up, thought it seemed longer than it should have been a somehow the song lent energy to arms that should have failed, Still when the songs finally died away some time later, they backed away from the wall panting their shoulders heaving as sweat dropped down their faces.

Commander Vir leaned against the axe wiping sweat from his hairline.

Jicari shouldered his axe, “Did you know that when humans sing their heart beats synchronize?”

“Really? I didn’t know that?”

Jicari smiled, “yes, and that is why we are so happy commander. This chain song helps us keep time while we work. It goes back to the traditions of many who came before us, laborers who worked on the trains, and slaves who worked in the fields, and builders who came before them, singing to keep in time for work but also to build hope.” 

He believed him, it was easy to see why, and that is why they stayed on the colony for a few days working alongside the people. The commander wanted them to feel what they had felt on that first day wanted to figure out how to bring it aboard the ship.

Cannon was the first to figure it out, secretly secluding himself where he could listen slowly writing with inspiration from the music.

When they were getting ready to leave he handed his work to the commander, who seemed surprised but pleased and sent the image of his work on with a message.

Jicari stood next to the commander and slide waving as the other humans slowly drifted on to the ship for departure.

Cannon began to hum.

Jicari turned in surprise, and it was the Commander’s turn to whistle, the clear tones ringing through the docking bay and into the cargo hanger. He was the first to pick up the tune followed by Ramirez and some of the other marines.

Jicari beamed wide and hummed along with them as this new song filled his docking bay, one about flying into the unknown, surrounded by dangers, into the blackest void, but being happy about it because they were those whose hearts couldn’t stay in one place too long.

As they stepped onto the ship, He could hear the echo of voices rising up, as it slowly spread through the hallways, up onto the bridge, and down into engineering, until the entire ship was connected by a chain of voices, somehow all together  despite being so far apart.

Jicari waved them off doing his best to remember the lyrics to the Harbinger’s song, so he could sing it to his people later.

And hat was how cannon became the first known Drev to compose a song. A song that took its roots from the chain songs of exhausted human laborers thousands of ears in the future, looking for hope, but secretly made with the idea of Drev training combat in mind.

The song would be used on the harbinger for both, to bolster productivity, moral, and for the Drev to keep time during training fights.

All a lesson learned from Paxicar, the happiest place in the universe.