#there's a lot so i'm putting it under a cut-

[mareastrorum]

Since a bunch of us are doing a C2 rewatch, I figured I'd do a general reference list for some of the more distinctive songs from Witcher 3. The entire OST is fantastic. Video links and such under the cut.

Those strings haunt me: The Orphans of Crookback Bog, an unreleased track from one of the most distinctive Witcher 3 questlines. Matt used this during his introduction for episode 2.

Those haunting strings but there's also dramatic women that are going to get me: The Ladies of the Woods, the best villain theme in the game. I'm 90% sure the Ladies inspired Isharnai and Nana Morri.

What's the calm music that feels like it's condescending to me? That's the Royal Palace of Vizima, a non-antagonist villain theme for the emperor who Geralt has to tolerate.

What's that combat "banana tiger" song? Steel for Humans, one of the standard combat themes.

What's the other combat song that has the women going LELELELELE? Silver for Monsters is another core combat song.

What's that menacing song with strings that also sound like a lullaby? Gaunter O'Dimm's Theme from the Heart of Stone DLC.

What's the one that sounds like a mellow dance song? The Merchants of Novigrad, which Matt used a few times in city and tavern scenes. If you like this one, you'll also like Back on the Path and The Nightingale.

What's the really energetic one that makes me dance in my chair and drum to the beat? Another Round for Everyone, one of the Gwent card game themes that's overly addictive. IIRC, Matt tended to put this on for lively taverns and social events.

What about the relaxing ones with a harp? It's likely one of the many background songs for the Skellige region. The harp and similar instruments tend to pop up in a lot of those songs, and they have overlapping motifs, so it can be a little difficult to find the one you're looking for. Here's the Ard Skellig Village theme that demonstrates a good number of their shared attributes.

The entire OST and the unreleased tracks are all lovely. I highly recommend them for background music.

[celerydays]

long time no see…

Hey, hi, hello~

I don't know if anyone is still around this little blog o' mine or if I'm just showing up suddenly on the dash and whoever is seeing this might not recall ever even following me lol.

But – whether you remember me or not – I'm just dropping by to say that...I've missed you and that I truly hope you're doing well 🫂💗

I...have not been doing so well. But I've been working on it.

In a way, it's been healing to reshape my approach to things like journaling and capturing photos. I've been taking the time to develop a practice in documenting daily life – the people I care about, the places we visit, and all the random little moments in between – with more intentionality and care than I have in recent years.

(tw: grief and loss/death under cut)

We lost my mother very suddenly last November – and things have been unbearably hard the last few months.

In a lot of ways, 2024 was one of the best years: my partner and I traveled to Japan for the first time ever, my family had a small reunion in our hometown to watch the total solar eclipse together, my best friends got married, and we went on so many amazing trips and had the type of outings that made me so inspired, optimistic, and excited about life and the future.

But in so many other ways, it was also one of the worst years I've had in a long time: starting with a hard-learned (but perhaps overdue) firsthand lesson and reminder on how scary and mean the internet can be, followed by losing both my grandfather in the spring and then my mother just before the winter holidays.

I'm not particularly good when it comes to emotions– forget about even processing grief or putting into any sort of meaningful words how it all feels. But I guess all of this has made me shift my mindset when it comes to wanting to just...remember. To not forget.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

On documenting life through journaling...

I had always journaled in some way or another all my life, but I only really started considering it a serious practice and hobby sometime around 2020. But I had lost my way with it in recent years, treating it solely as some kind of aesthetic-only venture, and only dedicating the time if I knew that I could make it "pretty" and "palatable for sharing".

And so, many entries were missed; days and weeks lost to fuzzy recollection, months bled into each other, and little moments only existed as vague and passing snapshots on my phone gallery (if I even remembered to take a photo).

But I now wish I had just written it down; whatever it was – big, small, angry, funny, sad, happy – just wrote it all down. It didn't have to be an aesthetically collaged spread or artful doodle or drawing. I wish I had documented some of the last times I had seen or spoken with my mother; what she had said, did, or how she reacted to silly news or quips I told her. I barely remember anything even just from the last year.

So now I write it all down, day after day: I'll write what's on my mind, what we did before, what I'm doing currently, what I'm planning to do. If someone calls or my partner walks in to my studio while I'm working and tells me something that has me reacting in the moment I'll jot down a little "omg!!" or "lol" or "holy shit" next to whatever they said or did.

If I get little scraps from the day – receipts, tags, tickets, wrappers – I'll paste it in wherever it happens to fit in my journal, with a little note of the date or what the outing was. And every so often, I'll print out photos to paste in with notes relating back to past entries or junk journal spreads.

Is always pretty? No, but it's pretty in its chaos. Is it always even chronological? Not at all. Does it always make sense? Not really. But I love every page so, so much more than anything I had carefully curated before in my previous journals.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

On documenting life through photos...

I had once carried a camera with me everywhere before phone cameras became decent enough that I didn't feel the need to have a dedicated tool for just taking pictures anymore.

It wasn't until we were all looking through our collective family photos to use for my mother's memorial service and headstone that it hit me that I just don't take as many pictures as I used to– and when I did, they just don't compare to the ones that I used to take years ago when I did carry a camera with me on every outing and trip.

We ended up choosing a photo of her that I had taken on my once-beloved dSLR camera I used to haul around with me almost 10 years ago; she was smiling, strong, radiant, beautiful– and it was just a random moment I took my camera out in a Taiwan salon while she was waiting as my sister and I were both getting our hair done for our cousin's wedding.

A bit indescribable – and not even something I realized was missing – but there's something about having an actual camera on hand that pushes me to take more photos, and somehow better and more mindful photos at that.

And so I made the decision to invest in a new camera. An absolute necessity to take photos? No, of course not; I do still have my phone camera after all. But they say (apparently) that "the best camera is the one that you actually use"– and I was most definitely not using my phone as much as I could have been.

This new camera though? Only time will truly tell, but the past has shown that I've worked better with a dedicated camera on hand and already I can't begin to explain the difference it's made in the last week alone since I picked up the habit of carrying a camera around with me again.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

This was a crazy long post that sort of got away from me. Not sure where I want to go from here – I guess I just want to say that if you ever felt called to document your life in some way, it's never too late to start; you'll only wish that you had begun sooner.

If you're still here– I love you. I hope you're taking care of yourself.

And thank you for reading along with my incredibly longwinded life update of what was essentially just "I'm grieving so I started journaling more and also bought a camera" lol.

💗

[iamthedamndonutdrawcat]

Berlin maradures au????

now listen! berlin hipster modern marauders band au. (i'm sorry this is brutally self-indulgent and may be incomprehensible to anyone outside berlin but i need to put it somewhere) this is a long post, so i put it under the cut. please excuse the word vomit :)

they all go to a grammar school that's a bit too shitty to call itself elite but does anyway. many children of bureaucrats, diplomats etc. that think they're ghetto f.e. James, Sirius and Remus. (Peter is the only normal one tyvm)

the marauders met as classmates in year 5. Remus and Sirius are forced into the school choir. all marauders learn acoustic tradtional instruments but their "band" is actually a soundcloud rap project. James and Peter build BAD beats and Sirius fixes them. they all do enjoy indie/rock and sometimes have jam sessions and do covers. artistic duo Remus & Sirius. intense homoerotic friendship James & Sirius. wolfstar endgame. Sirius curates a spotify account with only extremely niche melancholic rap to impress Remus; actually knows german trash rap by heart. serenades Remus with Ski Aggu "love" songs during Remus' depressive phases.

Sirius and James are third generation immigrants; Sirius turkish on his mother's side, James indian. Sirius family is not necessarily evil, just conservative diplomats with a big pride in tradition & well behaviour; far removed from their own cultural & religious roots in order to integrate into german political structures. however they are homophobic/unaccepting towards Sirius. Sirius grows up in a very german environment, gets misjudged by racist teachers. extremely smart yet often lazy. at school they're permitted to use ipads and chatgpt does his entire course work; he spends his time gaming during class. vape enthusiast although he gets horrible coughing attacks.

Remus's background is very international, somewhat french on Lyall's side and arab roots on mom's side, they met in england and moved to berlin with child Remus. Rip Remus' mom. Remus & Lyall live in a nice old apartment (Altbauwohnung) in berlins Pankow district (lots of families, settled down hipsters, sligh shift into suburban terrain), Lyall is either a lawyer or diplomat, 50/50 works or spends time with his girlfriend. crunchy distant father-son-relationship. but because no ones ever home, Remus constantly has friends (and Sirius) over. Remus has BPD, is in therapy and doing pretty well in his later adolesence. Remus spends lots of time outside, drinking in parks, chilling at friends', or smokes too much weed in his room. unapologetic chain smoker, even in front of Lyall. quiet and shy, makes him seem either rude or mysterious. bookworm & music nerd. nokia + ipod combo instead of smartphone because he doesn't want screen addiction or be too reachable. vape hater, point of argument with sirius.

accidental wolfstar public outing after Sirius drunkenly performs an Ikkimel song at a party and then throws himself at Remus (they don't really gaf anymore). For Halloween they dress up as a Cigarette and a Beer (Sternburger Export).

James watches german meme compilations every night and knows them by heart. Footie enthusiast with Sirius, drags the marauders to big games where they almost get trampled. extreme alman energy (aka white german energy, upstuck, snobbish and happily embarassing, taking part in typical german shenanigans) just like Sirius, except Sirius tries to hide it and James can deal with the jokes at his expense. James was a tv addict as a child. James & Sirius friendship began over a shared interest in anime.

Peter is the token german kid. Fridays for future gave him a bad conscience and all the marauders joined him in the demonstrations to get out of class. Extreme stoner, at least bi-weekly sessions with Remus. also i like the art kid peter hc so i'm stealing it. art kid peter who draws cartoons of his friends.

Lily & Severus live in the inner city Wedding district, rougher than the outer parts where Sirius & James live. Lily & Remus bff duo. (ik this is very boy centric, i have yet to dig deeper into my headcanons for the girls)

.

i have a lot of music associations, but they actually are nice songs so idc here they are...

songs to illustrate the vibes: Nachts wach by makko, Rasenschach by Filow, FUSSBALLMÄNNER by Ikkimel, Wenn du tanzt by Von Wegen Lisbeth

Remus coded songs: Marlboro Mann by Romano, Goldener Reiter by Joachim Witt, Ziemlich Verplant by Skinny Dazed (!!!), Alt sein by Pisse

Sirius coded songs: BIKINI GRELL by Ikkimel, Immer nur da by Fynn Kliemann, Klebstoff by Mine (extreme black brother angst vibes), Findelkind by Mine (i could make a whole seperate post on how wolfstar-coded Mine's & Fynn Kliemann's discographies are)

James coded songs: Haus am See by Peter Fox, Verschwende deine Zeit by Edwin Rosen (prongsfoot vibes imo)

Peter coded songs: Alles Gute by Faber, Bongzimmer by SXTN

[disgruntleddemon]

i've racked my brain trying to figure out an in character way for Shifty to be integrated into the better world timeline main cast, but i'm throwing my hat it. they can be a little ooc for this. this is pretty long, so i'll put it under a cut:

sometime after Fiddleford moves in, but before him and Ford are officially together, the trio goes to check on the bunker (ford mentions planning on doing this in j3, so yayyy, an excuse for them to be there)

they quickly realize the cryotube is broken, and shifty has escaped (how did this happen? is that when shifty escaped in cannon? i have no idea, man) anyway, Fiddleford needs to go in with them to fix it, so Ford and Stan are on shifty hunting duty. meanwhile, shifty saw them, and assumes Stan is another shapeshifter

at some point, Ford and Stan get separated, so Shifty goes to Stan like "idk what that guy told you, but it's probably a lie. lets help each other escape!" Stan uses this to lure him to Ford lol

this is where we get the big confrontation/conversation between everyone. shifty wants out cause he was taken by Ford and Fiddleford for the sole purpose of being experimented on and being used to test the cryotubes. he wanted the journal to get new forms as a defense, and to use it as a guide for escape and life on the outside.

he's been playing nice at the moment and not attacking anyone to prove he'll be fine now. he just wants to go to the surface and live his life like he was supposed to if Ford had never found him.

every one else is not sure what to do. well, mostly Ford and Stan. Fiddleford is pretty set on the "put him back in the tube" approach

Ford is really flip flopping, he has a lot of trust issues after Bill, Shifty's original betrayal affected him, and it hurt Fiddleford (which was probably the worst part to Ford). but, he does see Shifty's perspective and feels kind of guilty.

i think i've spent like a week trying to figure out how they settle things, and i'm kinda calling it quits with that too. my best idea is a microchip. basically, Ford points out the cryotube thing really was unethical, and it broke before so it might again. plus, if they just leave shifty down there, he might tunnel his way out anyway, he's already forming some. and finally, killing him would also be unethical, and also a waste of an incredible scientific discovery .

so they decide to chip him and keep him at the cabin as a trial run. not great that shifty's still a prisoner, but i couldn't see them just letting him go. the chip, made by Fiddleford obviously, alerts them when shifty changes shape, if he manages to get it out, and prevents him from going too far out of a certain radius.

as time goes on, shifty is allowed to go further and further, and they trust him more. it's a very slow transition, that's mostly a matter of shifty becoming part of the daily routine. one of those "you can pretty much get used to anything after awhile" things.

i think they realize also, that shifty's still a juvenile. he's true form is still growing and changing. i put him somewhere in the 12-14 range. i haven't decided how they go about raising him just yet, but his human disguise is pretending to be Stan's son. between the mystery trio, stan having a random son makes the most sense.

shifty likes to keep his form kinda close to looking like himself, so if ppl ask about his appearance, he just says he's albino.

the transition period from not trusting him and being a prisoner, to being a proper member of the cabin is one i'm still very undecided on. but for now, i think the summery works well enough. once he's more comfortable with himself and his place in the house, shifty becomes very mischievous and adventurous! he likes doing pranks and getting into stuff

anyways, if anyone has any suggestions about him, i'm very open to it!! he's a hard character to figure out/integrate

[noneatnonedotcom]

one more random character.

i'm having a lot of fun with these, this one will be in Avatar the last airbender.

Blade Beyond Steel: (400 cp) Your connection to your blade goes beyond physical skill. You have honed your swordsmanship to such a degree that your weapon becomes an extension of your very soul. No matter the material, you can wield your sword with such finesse that it can cut through objects far stronger than steel—be it reinforced armor, magical barriers, or even energy-based attacks. Your blade can sever through nearly anything, and no defense is safe from the sharpness of your strikes.

Master Swordsman: (200 CP) You possess the incredible skill of a seasoned swordsman. Your reflexes, precision, and technique are at a level that only the most dedicated of swordfighters can reach. Whether you're armed with a katana or any other blade, you can easily slice through enemies with devastating accuracy. With every swing of your sword, you can precisely cut through opponents or deflect incoming attacks, leaving your enemies in awe of your skill. This is the foundation of Atomic Samurai’s incredible swordsmanship.

Steel Trap Clarity: (300 CP) It's a sad fact, but traitors and spies are lurking everywhere. Their hands forced by blackmail, willingly becoming a double agent from bribery or falling to good old fashioned brain washing. Not you though, absolutely not. Upon purchase, you become excessively resistant to traditional forms of corruption, mystical forms of brain washing and everything in between. Something with mind boggling power may still be able to put you under its control. Most of the threats to your morals or sanity in this world are just out of luck. Additionally, you will always be able to keep a clear idea of your personal principles, meaning you won't stray off of your path on accident.

Perfectly Trained: (100 CP) They say someone who loves what they do will never work a day in their life. What you love is training. You love the sweat, the aching, the exhaustion. To that end, you’ve gotten good at seamlessly working your training into daily life, whether it be shadowboxing to kill time or practicing footwork when going out for a walk.

Infernal Governance: (free) You would hardly be a noble if you couldn’t look and act the part. Luckily this is something you have internalized completely, able to project a sense of dignity, grace, and nobility through your body language. And you don't just look like it, you also have experience with politics and governance, to the point that you would be able to walk into near any court in Creation and be accepted, while you would actually be able to be a good ruler. Of course to live the lifestyle of the nobility, you'll need a certain amount of wealth. It is a good thing then, that you're just as skilled in selling whatever you wish, finding the appropriate buyers, and setting up a shop to do so. Lastly this makes you skilled at coming up with convoluted plots to accomplish your goals, which somehow seem to work better than simpler schemes.

free roll: Anti Deception: (200 CP) At the outset of your journey, a significant portion of the Saints have been swayed to align themselves with Mars, lured by convincing falsehoods painting Athena as weak and the Martians as allies in the protection of humanity. Fortunately, you possess the invaluable ability to see through both lies and half-truths, allowing you to discern the deceptive nature of these claims. Furthermore, armed with a keen sense of logic, you meticulously dissect the inconsistencies and illogicalities present in the narrative, presenting compelling arguments to your allies to expose the deception and sway them from serving Mars.

this character is a nobel who is not a bender, instead he's a swordsman who's family has been stubbornly independent in the face of both the firenation and the earth kingdom. you might think it's their skill at arms that has saved the lands but in reality it's their minds, their skills at seeing through deception and half truths and their will to stick to their morals. these things are what makes them truly dangerous that and their skill at governance and strategy. still while the character starts off with the skills to fight, they lack the body nessicary for it. luckily perfectly trained helps to ensure that even if they're forced to play the noble administrator they do improve on their abilities as they go. tldr: really good swordsmen who are extremely politically savvy. ideas I had, 1 arranged marriage with the bei-fong family. leading to him eventually meeting toph and neither one really sure what to do because they were both expecting to hate the other making breaking up the arranged marriage even harder. maybe they don't break it off leading to them joking that their friends are all living in sin. 2 there are some religious buildings with people who look suspiciously like air nomads tending the place but he assures the firenation that it's just people who teach air nomad theology and they're simply priests and priestesses

3 no he has no idea who those pirates raiding both the earth kingdom and Firenation ships were but he hopes they find whatever handsome dashing rouge is doing it.

4 uses a willow leaf saber or liuyedao as his weapon of choice. with something very simular to European saber as his style.

5 those are totally normal bison and not flying sky bison, they use them for their wool and they can't fly. that's rediculous.

while his dad still rules over his lands he ends up traveling with the avatar on his trip up north to learn water bending and just never leaves.

this makes him a target for both earth and fire nation bounty hunters and he has a competition with soka over who can get the higher bounty. soka complains that he's cheating by having the earth kingdom mad at him too.

@howlingday @heliosthegriffin @weatherman667 @thatorigamiguy

any ideas for this character? also i should take advantage of the free powers more often. not all of them are great but a lot of them are OP for being free powers. secondary idea just for Weatherman he's actually the son of a roman senator in the avatar version of rome. they're still actively opposing both earth and fire nation but they're doing so less through pirates and clever lies and more through the unified effort of the roman legions the only majority non bender nation to remain in the face of both the earth kingdom expansion and the newer firenation.

ROMA INVICTA!

[asksnowton]

*tap tap*

is this thing on?

It's been a while, huh?

(Chit chat under the cut)

How have you all been?

Are any of you still here?

Still interested in the story I want to share?

I've been pushing it off for so long

But I do want to continue this.

Sorry it's been so long.

Life has really been hectic. That's all I can say, really. (Along with. I've just had other interests I wanted to explore)

I got compelled to draw this au again, because I've been showing my friend Deltarune for the first time.

Really unlocked some memories and hidden motivation.

So, lemme explain the thought behind some of this miscellaneous doodles.

1: Banner. Our favorite snow hoe.

2 & 3: redesigning Vey's outfit. The outfit themes for this au are wintery, so every unique au outfit has fur in it. Couldn't think of a way to incorporate this with Vey while speaking to their laziness AND their job as a fashion designer, so at first I gave them a hoodie and called it a day. BUT while brainstorming, I realized bathrobes can be fluffy, AND elegant, while at the same time signalling that Vey hasn't gotten out of bed/put much effort into their appearance.

Sorry for the long ramble on these two, I'm really into design and stuff, and their design was bugging me for a LONG time and I FINALLY figured out how to tackle it in a way I like.

In future drawings I'm probably gonna have the robe drape a bit more though. Like a semi-train of that makes sense

4-6: Vi ice-skating. I've become really attached to the idea of Snow au Vi doing this. It fits her. Elegant, cold.

7&8: So. This is gonna seem random (cause it is) but Vi x Tasque Manager has been a ship in my mind for almost as long as Vi has been introduced to the blog? I never could figure out a way to incorporate it organically though, so it never happened. Dunno if it will ever happen. But they mean a lot to me so I decided to share the them. Ig it's up to you guys if you wanna see them get together sometime. So lmk your thoughts on that.

9. Tasque Manager and Swatch friendship. She is so concerned. She thought that little man was dead. And she does not like the fact that Swatch is sacrificing so much of their mental health to care for him. Potential boss battle.

10. Ice Jevil. This has been his design concept for quite some time but I think I can do better. I've been trying not to show this au's Jevil, I've been wanting to keep him a super secret... But I think everyone knows he's here already lol.

As long as I don't spill anything story wise, I figured there's no harm in showing him y'know.

So behold.

The boy!!!

Uh yeah

That's it I think.

I might get to doodling more story stuff.

After years of struggling mentally, I think I'm ready.

See ya when I see ya

Love you guys fr fr

[iguessitsjustme]

When It Rains It Pours Ep 3 & 4 Thoughts

Listen. I am currently at work and not about to watch this show (for at least a few more hours) but I after deciding to wait to watch the next episode and sleeping on it, my little brain wheels started turning and I have some thoughts to get out about the first two episodes before I start the next one. So this time there is more than just a liveblog under the cut:

I wrote that and then immediately had to actually do work. Alas. Anygay

So I was thinking about why the relationship between our boy and his girlfriend felt off to me and I think I puzzled it out. She takes immaculate care of his nails. To the point that other people notice. But his nails are where her care starts and ends. He is initiating all of their conversations basically. She will engage with him but she won't start anything. Except the nail thing. It's why he wants her to be jealous. Because then he will have some sort of proof that she cares. Cause at this point it doesn't feel like she cares about him as a person. She cares about his nails and their appearance because if they look bad that is a poor reflection on her as a girlfriend. But his actual well being and how he feels? She's not present for it. Sure, she'll turn around before she leaves and asks for a hug, but it's so out of character and out of place that our boy doesn't even realize that's what she's asking for at first. He needs to communicate his needs with words, but he has definitely been indirectly communicating his needs and she's not paying attention. Or she is and she doesn't care. And she is not communicating anything either. Their beds have separated to the point there is a table between them. A clear indicator that what they had before is changed. It can easily be moved back to how it was but neither one of them is doing it. No one is even making an attempt. Who put that bedside table there? Because my bet is that it was her. A signal to him that something had changed, but she doesn't have the guts to actually say it. Or even to admit it to herself probably. Anyway I still think she's cheating.

And now I want to talk about Sei and his boyfriend (?). It seems like Sei has made an awful lot of compromises. Does Sei have any say in anything to do with that relationship? How much of himself has he given? Way too much. And I'm not saying his boyfriend (?) needs to compromise on having sex with him if that's not something he wants. But he can compromise on other things. That's what a relationship is. He gets jealous of Sei having someone else to talk to. But Sei can't be in the apartment because of an interviewer coming over. Sei is obviously a homebody but his boyfriend (?) seems to go out a lot. Does he ever make the time to stay home with Sei. Sei has proven he is willing to leave the apartment for his boyfriend (?). So why not invite him to something. Even if it's just the two of them. Why is Sei supposed to give up all of himself and have no control over anything at all?

Okay. That's a lot of words and I haven't even started episode 3. I didn't even mention the plastic umbrellas. Lord jesus.

OKAY. The fact that she TOLD him he has rice on his face instead of removing it for him. Something is not right. She doesn't love him. At least not any more. They don't have any sense of domesticity.

Oh so not boyfriends. Best friends. Okay that tracks. Except the jealousy thing. Also Sei has still given waaaayyyy too much of himself to this dude. He needs to be free to be himself. There's something there about being closeted.

I am watching. I am listening. I am learning. *hyper focuses on arms full of umbrellas*

Man I really wish I had the spoons to talk about the music in this show cause it is phenomenal. Someone remind me this weekend. That is if anyone wants that.

Something something framing. My brain is currently hibernating.

They are about to find out aren't they? God bless.

THEY BOTH EMAILED ABOUT THE STATUE. ARE THEY NOW GONNA LOOK AT EACH OTHER?

God bless.

Episode 4 time? Episode 4 time. (but only if this truck goes away it's shaking my whole apartment.)

Truck is gone. I am free. Episode 4 let me look at ya with my eyeballs

…have I mentioned that I haven't been getting much sleep lately?

Something something going down an escalator. He's going down. Towards hell? Making poor decisions cause he's gonna cheat on his girlfriend? Going to hell because he's going to learn about his attraction to men? And obviously gay people go to hell? I need a shot of those two together going up the escalator or I'm gonna scream.

Oh he's me. This is the literal exact thing I would say to my friend in this situation.

Okay I get it. I get it. I'm gonna be thinking about this scene for a while. The way Sei thought the messages as knew them were over. The way instead he was asked out to dinner. Because both of them need each other. They understand each other in a way no one has understood them before. They see themselves in each other. I'm fine. I'm totally and completely fine. Where are the umbrellas.

Oh the toe.

DID HIS FRIEND DESIGN THE CARD HOLDER? IS THAT WHAT THE SOMETHING IS. Or one of the somethings. Everything is connected.

"When he shows his masculine side it kills the mood" girl WHAT. Are you even attracted to him? Do you even like men? Girl. Be so fucking for real right now.

So I hate both of their partners. The girlfriend and the best friend. They are both keeping these two trapped and I HATE it.

Should I watch episode 5? *looks at the time*

[lastoneout]

I know I keep dying on the "modern country isn't all pro-america racist garbage" hill but I did want to say; the other day I got bored(I'm in bed recovering from surgery) and decided to listen to every single song on the Billboard Top 100 Country Songs of 2024 list and there were only FOUR that fit that description. Out of ONE HUNDRED SONGS. ONLY FOUR THAT WERE LIKE THAT.

More ranting about this under the cut but TL;DR country really has changed. Recognize that or at the very least shut up about how you'd like it more if it was [xyz thing it already fucking is] please. It's okay if you just don't vibe with it, you don't need to validate your taste with political grandstanding, you can just not like it! That is possible!!

If you say all modern country is racist maga garbage you are simply incorrect. You're legit just wrong. So can we stop doing it now?? Please?? 'Cuz I keep seeing people say this even after Cowboy Carter won all those awards and Shaboozey had a song DOMINATE the charts and then was in TWO Super Bowl Halftime Shows featuring country music AND after Luke Combs, one of the biggest white men in country rn sang on stage with Tracy Chapman, a black woman, uplifting and supporting her and her work, and didn't even change the pronouns in the song, and like, this dismissal and refusal to engage is quickly moving from irritating to legit infuriating. Especially given how man diverse artists that attitude erases.

If you mean certain fans or the mainstream industry or an awards show or a specific artist (fuck you Jason Aldean you bigoted shithead, every single queer person living in a small town in a red state could eat your worthless ass for breakfast and still have room for more, you're an embarrassment and I hope one day you realize that) SAY THAT. Because the music itself, and a lot of new artists? They're different now. And I HATE to see progressives and leftists who don't even like country whine and complain about it being terrible maga garbage and not lift a finger to help support the people who are putting everything into creating the change these people keep saying needs to happen.

It's happening, so show up on the front lines or sit down and shut up.

[front-facing-pokemon]

[vargaslovinghours]

Fandom: Johnny the Homicidal Maniac (But really Vargas lol) Rating: Teen and up Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

What, exactly, did Scriabin take from Edgar when they separated?

My first multichapter fic for Vargas! :D Yay!

(Pls read Ch. 1 first - Ch. 2 is also recommended, but as long as you're caught up on the first, you're good to go!)

-----

Side B

What the fuck.

"It's, it's possible that if, maybe whatever happened earlier, whatever caused all that blood and for us to be knocked unconscious-"

What the fuck.

"-and if I suffered a head injury, then maybe-"

No. That's enough.

Scriabin pushed away from the closet door he'd defensively pressed himself up against and put his hands on Edgar's shoulders, which quieted him. He looked at him expectantly, with eyes that Scriabin somehow only just now realized were casually guarded, curious, uncertain in a way that denoted inexperience. That was so messed up, that was completely wrong. Edgar should've been on guard, absolutely, but only because he knew exactly what Scriabin was capable of. He really didn't want to look at him right now if this was what he was going to be seeing instead.

He spun him quickly and pushed him out the door before he could protest. He got one last look at those wide, confused eyes before he slammed the door behind him, bracing it shut with both hands for good measure.

What. The fuck. His head came forward, making a dull thud as his forehead connected with the door. He doesn't remember me? His fingers curled on the door. What does he mean he doesn't remember me?! How could he not know me?! One hand pushed through his hair; his scalp tingled and that was so weird, he felt it and it was so weird- We literally just- He literally just-! As if pulling him screaming into life wasn't bad enough, now he had decided to play some sick prank!

This can't be true. It's just like him to try and make jokes at the worst possible time, he has no tact.

There was a timid knock on the other side of the door. Scriabin jumped as it resonated through his skull, his elbow, pressed to the door with his hand buried in his hair, set his jaw. Then silence.

If he was really trying to get back in, clear things up, say he was only kidding, he'd actually try.

Nothing.

Scriabin's blood was ice as he went over it again. The way he'd said his name. The vacant look in his eyes as he said it, like his mouth knew its shape but none of the meaning. No fear, no realization, nothing that really felt like Edgar, just sound, just noise.

Maybe he really had-

Oh god. His knees gave out, and his arms had no practice at holding him upright, not yet. His hand slid down the door, his other hand guarding his head as his hair fluffed against the grain.

How could he do this

This is all his fault

Stupid, idiotic

He can't do this to me

I can't believe him

I can't believe this

How dare he leave me alone like this

Thoughts spiralling, and all he could do was hold himself down, press his fingers into the back of his neck, force his chest to his knees and maybe he wouldn't immolate under it all. He was shaking, from tension or fear he couldn't tell, his mind too hazardous and loud to cut through it all. He was shaking, dizzy, and if he moved, letting go would surely kill him.

He can't do this to me.

He breathed. And breathed. And swallowed. Eyes closed, heart pounding, sure. Confusion and dismay, whatever. Pain. Fine. So be it.

This isn't like me. A hand untethered from his vice grip in his hair, and he stayed attached to the floor. It connected with the carpet below him and became a new lifeline. He pushed up and away into a limp sit, arms already burning slightly from holding himself up after all that. He shook his head mildly. This isn't who I'm going to be in life. His body, this fear response be damned, he was in control now.

Regroup. Let's- a mental pause, barely a quarter of a second long as he turned the word in his head. Let's pretend it's all true- what does that mean?

He flopped over, leaned upright with his back against the door, heels of his fists pushed down into the carpet to scootch closer. Moving was so awkward still, very unfitting.

He was acting normal. Well, Edgar's baseline for "normal" had changed considerably, so maybe put an asterisk on that. Not that he was ever normal to begin with, but normal-for-Edgar, -ish. That means he has to have some memory.

Scriabin held out a hand, arm slung over his knee, one finger held out. He had recognized his glasses. One. The apartment. Two. Which key to use. Three. He had said Todd's name. Four.

His stuff can be discounted, he's had all that for a while. Back down to one. The kid is a new fixture. Which means he remembers the last couple months at least. He shook his head and brought his hand up to comb through his hair. Well...it's fuzzy for me, so it probably is for him, too. Scriabin remembered everything in as much clarity as the last couple months allowed, there was no way Edgar would know more even if he had all his memories.

Speaking of which, Scriabin could remember everything. He flipped through; the last two months and bringing Todd in, Edgar's parting words to Johnny, his and Devi's conversation - he grit his teeth - and further back, everything along the way, all the way back. False dreams, shared childhoods, everything that was once Edgar's alone, he still remembered it. Nothing was out of place which made it all the more strange!

This is so fucking weird, if I remember everything, then why would he-

He stopped short. His purported purpose had been to replace Edgar. Take him over completely. If he bought into the conceit for a moment, just to play in the space... He was alive now. That was not as intended; it shouldn't even have been possible.

Did he...give me his memories? Like, all the way? Not just to borrow, to shape him, give him legitimacy - he was alive now. His own person. Separate, embodied, and whole. Was this the price of life?

That's stupid. But possible, he couldn't discount. If this - he brought his hands up and looked down at them, watched himself touch his own chest and felt it beneath his coat, shirt, the nerves firing as his slid his fingers up himself - if this was possible, then...

He continued for a moment, curious and reverant, all of him new and privately exciting, to exist and to touch, to feel, smell, see, all of it clear and fresh and penetrated deeply into his mind, as if a layer of film had been lifted from his senses. The moment passed as the memories, unbidden but important, cluttered in around him again.

There were still a lot of questions, and most of them couldn't be answered without Edgar, ugh. If getting anything out of him before had been like pulling teeth, he was very sobered to think about how it might be now. Depending on how much Edgar remembered, maybe he could start piecing things together.

Did he do it on purpose? Did he know this would happen? There's no way he would have been willing to if he had- But he couldn't ask him things like that. Even if he did remember, admitting something like that...

He was just spinning his wheels at this point. Better to gather what he could from the man himself. He looked up, preparing to stand.

Ah-

The room was still in something of a state.

Edgar would be annoying, or at least distracted by trying to pick up the clothes and uncarefully unpacked items strewn about the floor from Scriabin's very successful excavation of his old glasses. The clutter would have to go if he wanted his full attention.

He grumbled as he pushed off the door to pick up the first few things. First day of life and I'm already his maid. Figures. He's always needed me to clean up after him.

Silence.

Somehow it only just hit him. Thinking alone in the late hours, planning things behind Edgar's back, it was nothing new. But a barb unsunk into his mental flesh was left out in the wide emptiness, poised to stab whoever happened upon it next, and he was the only one here.

He felt very small all of a sudden, and he didn't like it at all.

His eyes blankly scanned the room, looking for nothing, until they settled on the toy at Edgar's bedside. His toy.

He dropped the items he'd bundled into his arms and made his way over. He picked up the small simulacrum, turned it over in his hands once, and stared at it.

He wouldn't know this. Not really. He brushed a thumb up and over the little mouth, the contours of its small face. Retroactively, I've never been this at all.

I'm no one to him.

Does this mean we can start over? The thought struck him like lightning, freezing his heart in his chest. He was fixed solid, staring down at the small figure in his hands.

Before he could even think, he'd already thrown it through the open closet door, landing noisily in the box he'd dug through with a clatter. He grabbed up the fallen clothes and items and stuffed them back in the box, burying the toy in mundane detritus, then closed the cardboard flaps and slammed the door of the closet for good measure.

His breath was laboured and he glared, like wishing it gone would make the closet itself disappear.

Answers. He needed answers, more than anything.

He ripped the door open, and there was Edgar who looked up, staring dumbly back at him and carrying the clothes he'd shed earlier over his arm. Something in his mind clicked over, and he didn't think about it.

"Alright," he caught his breath for half a second, "what do you remember?"

Edgar just kept on staring, mouth open, eyes unconfident behind weak glasses. Scriabin huffed irritably, I don't have time for this, and moved towards him, arm outstretched.

"Come on." Edgar gave a small startled sound behind him as he grabbed his collar and dragged him through the doorway. He threw him across the room, not bothering to watch his arc as he closed the door behind him. The bed was that way, he'd be fine.

When he turned back, Edgar had managed to catch himself, though already halfway on the bed. Scriabin stood with his back to the door, feet planted and he crossed his arms. No more speculating around impossibilities, tangible and present as they might be, it was time for a proper interrogation. It was at least preferable to-

Edgar made a face at him and scooted back, offering a seat next to him on the bed. Equal footing briefly flashed through his mind and while he wouldn't consider it ideal, nothing today was really going his way. He sighed, then made his way over and sat across from Edgar, who was eyeing him with a certain degree of caution. At least the feeling was mutual.

"Spill." He re-crossed his arms and leaned towards Edgar. "What do you know?"

Edgar hesitated, apparently thinking, his hands laced and fingers agitatedly if quietly rubbing the backs of his hands.

"I want to verify some things first."

Scriabin snorted dismissively. Where had Edgar's overly-trusting nature gone? A serial killer, well he's an honoured guest, but Scriabin? He didn't even distrust him for the right reasons.

He gestured with an open hand, Go ahead, then tucked his arm back in.

"Todd's last name?"

Pfsh. At least it was proof enough that anything Edgar knew, Scriabin did as well. As expected.

"Casil. His stupid bear's called Shmee in case you forgot that too." Edgar shook his head. No he hadn't? If only he could just check!

"Do you know our phone number?" Obviously he did, so he rattled it off quickly, Edgar nodding in turn. He flipped his hair in time with the last digit, careful to keep his eyes covered. It was a bit of a timid attempt, being the first in this body, which was a minor blessing he supposed.

Edgar mulled over what he'd given him for a moment, then a moment longer, then a moment even longer. His eyes searched absently, gazing down into his own hand, his other on his chin, lightly thumbing his goatee. He was focused on names and numbers, but those were child's play compared to everything, everything Scriabin still wanted to know. It was frustrating on a visceral level, watching him struggle with such simple innocuous nothings while the most important person in his life was sitting right in front of him.

He was supposed to be the most important.

It was frustrating.

"You really don't remember anything, do you?" He didn't hide the sneer as it shaped his voice - odd the way his body just did that now, did things without him actively thinking them into being. Even things like the little waver that made its way in that he pushed back down and under. He was frustrated, angry, tired - any emotionality could be attributed to those, nothing else.

Edgar didn't answer, just kept his gaze locked to his face. That was almost worse. Watching him fumble through things, it wasn't fun, but at least he wasn't trying to pry. He could see him try to look past his bangs, and the fact that he didn't know better...

Scriabin looked away for a moment, then thought better of it. Best defense is a good offense.

He reached for Edgar's face, for those damn scars, ever-present reminders. Edgar shied away, not wanting to be touched suddenly by someone he didn't know. As if Scriabin had ever cared about that.

Well, things were different now. Maybe he didn't really want to touch him anyway. Not yet.

"Do you remember these...?" Instead he framed his face with his hands less than an inch from his skin, and even there he could feel the heat coming off him. Edgar reached for his face, looking away from Scriabin as he touched the angry red marks. He winced minutely, then glanced back at Scriabin, searching him, his expression guarded again. Scriabin could hear his own pulse in his ears.

"...Johnny?"

"Fuck." Fuck! "Of course you'd remember him but not me." God damn it! It wasn't right, it wasn't fair, just because Johnny came first by a hair's breadth, just because he wasn't in Edgar's head, with Edgar's fucked up little obsession with the murderous stick figure- It limited what he could get away with too, if he remembered that far back. Absolutely nothing was going in his favour.

"I'm sorry..." He sounded genuinely remorseful, and it stuck in his throat. Disgusting. "So you know Johnny, too."

"Unfortunately." Scriabin tucked his chin to his chest, arms crossed again in close proximity. This sucks. Edgar just kept rambling, unaware as ever. His excuses held this time at least, one point in his favour, no points for bringing his annoying habits with him despite everything.

"I don't think I've seen him for a couple months now? Everything's awfully..." He gave a vague gesture and Scriabin uncurled slightly. He was giving him room to contribute. He shook his head.

"You haven't."

"Have you?"

He returned to his tight coil of sulking. Not like he was keen to meet up and chat, but he couldn't explain why he hadn't had the opportunity to either.

"I remember he called, too."

"Ugh," barely above breath. Enough about Johnny! Again, Edgar continued obliviously.

"Although I don't really recall what we talked about, not for a while..."

Of course not. I took over for half of those.

He perked a bit, and Edgar focused more on him, patiently setting his hands in his lap.

"You know."

He could play this to his advantage. Give Johnny some well-deserved karmic justice for fucking him over so many times. It was almost better that Edgar didn't know - Scriabin had been trying to get him away from Johnny all this time, and if he really had forgotten everything, not just the moments when Scriabin took over but every moment they had shared, then that meant it coincided almost perfectly with his first meeting with Johnny. Blank spot after blank spot after blank spot, all lined up immediately after getting his face slashed.

He could work with that.

"It's probably trauma." Edgar startled and his hand shot to his temple, lightly touching his hair.

"Like, head trauma?" Scriabing almost laughed. Yeah, probably that too. But that wouldn't help his case.

"No." He leaned in, taking a more intimate, secretive tone. "Think about it. When did things start getting fuzzy?" If he was right on this - which of course he was, but not being able to verify, not being able to see that he was right, it was disconcerting - but if he was, Edgar's memories of Scriabin should start with that first fateful encounter, give or take. A bit of reframing here, a touch of implication there... It probably wasn't even an outright lie; if Edgar's memory were perfect after experiencing everything Johnny had put them through, that would be some kind of twisted miracle.

His only real concern was their "childhood" - how much had Scriabin pulled with him? Would that throw off his story? But that was so far back, there was no way Scriabin or Johnny could be implicated in that. As long as Edgar didn't bring it up before he thought his way around it...

Edgar stayed quiet for a long while. His eyes raced behind closed eyelids, searching, scanning, retracing - Scriabin could almost see the moments where he hesitated, stopped and went back, then starting recollecting again. He wished he could see it for real, watch him unfold himself, touch those memories again, hold up his own in contrast. Even just hear Edgar's thoughts as they went by, feel the emotions he felt. But he couldn't, so he just stared as unblinkingly as this new body would allow, just watched as Edgar went over everything on his own.

He finally opened his eyes, staring back into Scriabin's though he was sure they were still hidden. He felt naked and awkward and Edgar still hadn't said anything. If he could just see like he was supposed to, or if Edgar would just tell him, he wouldn't have to ask. I have to do everything around here.

"It was after you met him, wasn't it?"

"You think it's...mental trauma?" An unspoken 'yes.' Relief flooded him, and he pushed ahead.

"Edgar. He stabbed you." Edgar gripped his shoulder, his eyes closing again and he looked to be in pain. That was a very effective reminder at least. "Do you even know why?" He shook his head and spoke throught half-grit teeth.

"I must have made him mad, but I don't remember-" Of course not, I did that.

"Your mind is trying to protect you." Not. But one of us has to with your inexhaustable deathwish. Scriabin reached out to touch him properly, but Edgar pulled away. He didn't follow, still not yet. Play up the pity. "He messed you up so bad," with a curl in his tone, an I told you so that barely made it to words even privately; how long had he been holding that in? "Surely you must've felt like you wanted, you needed to get away from him, that he wasn't good for you, that you-" He'd told him so many times, some it must have stuck, some of it had to have-

"Then-!" Edgar's eyes shot open, wide and desperate with an edge of disbelief. A strangled gasp escaped him, half-choking him as he tried to speak. "Then why can't I remember you?!"

He almost began rolling off the cuff, but really, he still didn't know for sure. And it definitely wasn't like he could tell the truth even if he wanted to; who, who hadn't lived it, would believe him? Edgar certainly wouldn't, not with his lack of imagination. He had to dress this up, weave a narrative that was plausible, had the perfect mix of truth and falsehood to stand up to scrutiny.

Huh. Ironic.

"I..." No. Some of this was Edgar's fault too. "We...argued."

"Argued?"

"I... Mng." He wanted to aim for some kind of levity, but his throat had tightened on him. He just wanted to tell this stupid inside joke and not have it affect him, not have it mean anything, and here he was getting emotional? He'd say it and fucking mean it. "It's not like I'm in your head, so-" spat out in a rush, there, he'd said it. Haha, isn't that so funny. He swallowed harshly, pushing down everything he felt into his stomach acid. He was in control. He was fine. This didn't shake him. "I can't know for sure," another humourless laugh inside, "but I was against your relationship with Johnny. Maybe you shut me out so you could keep seeing him with no pushback."

It certainly wasn't outside the realm of possibilities of what Edgar would do to avoid taking Scriabin's extremely basic advice about fraternizing with serial killers. How many times had he been ignored up to this point, only to culminate in the ultimate 'I don't know what you're talking about.' Pfeh. I bet he wishes he'd thought of this sooner. It did nothing for his painfully stuttered pulse.

"You know, I've been trying to convince you to stop going back to him for a while, but, well..." He waved his hand at Edgar's hand still death gripped into his shoulder, and Edgar averted his eyes guiltily. At least he showed some remorse. Better than his nigh constant apologia.

He stayed quiet a moment longer, and just before Scriabin made to fill the silence again, Edgar struck him with an intense look.

"What are you to me?" Ugh. Of course. There was not a single good answer for that. Even if he told him everything- no, especially if he told him everything, there was no way Edgar would believe him. But coming up with a convincing lie on the spot, when they were so clearly something to each other - even he needed time to come up with something workable. How could he have ever prepared for a situation like this? It was never meant to happen, so many things were never meant to happen!

He continued at Scriabin's silence. "You know Nny," Ugh! Even his awful nickname. "And Todd. And...me." He couldn't refute it, so he nodded tightly. "Do you live here?"

Technically he had, and technically he hadn't. Still, going forward, it would be easier to let Edgar assume that he did. It wasn't like he had anywhere else to go at the moment anyway.

"Yes."

"Are we..." He searched him, looked him over as much as he could and he wasn't subtle about it. If only Scriabin had his proper glasses, he'd let him look as much he wanted, behold his spectacle! As it was, he just felt self-conscious and it was very unbefitting. "...family?"

The baggage on that. He did not feel like opening that particular can of worms in either of their current states. He turned his head and flipped through any number of halfway decent ways to phrase it until he hit on something Edgar would remember. Better not to contradict for now.

"You told Johnny you have no family when you met."

"That's true..." Edgar blinked, processing. "Wait, did I tell you that?" Scriabin startled. Even after he'd accounted for his memory! Of course he had to pick his story apart now, he never knew when to leave well enough alone.

"When you-" No, he had to be involved. "When we bandaged your face."

Edgar mulled on that for a few seconds, taking on a thoughtful pose. "I only remember being alone."

"You don't remember me at all. What do you want from me?" He huffed.

"No, sorry, you're right."

"Thank you." He was right!

Where had Edgar expected him to be? There was something weird about how he'd said it. He filed the thought away for later.

"So, if you've been living here, where..." Edgar looked around the room, then back to Scriabin. "Where have you been sleeping? Todd's already on the couch..."

Scriabin couldn't help as a smile sprung to his face. If he was going to present him with such a perfect opportunity, well, he'd better take it. He even had the decency to look nervous in response! This was too good.

"Would you believe me if I said right here, in bed?" He again tucked his chin, playfully this time, his hair falling further in his eyes. Even through the dark tangles he could make out Edgar's face immediately bristling with heat.

Ooh. That's such a fetching shade on you, my dear.

"But-! I, I haven't been sleeping on the floor!" He was visibly sweating!

"Correct." His smile grew. This was too easy, and he needed an easy win right about now.

"W-" He leaned forward on his legs, though refused to get any closer. When he spoke it was a harsh whisper. "Why...?"

Scriabin shrugged easily, not bothering to reign in his smile in the least. "I mean, where else, right?" He leaned in since Edgar refused to, and oh. He was blushing all the way up to his scalp. Hilarious. "You certainly didn't seem to mind." He couldn't hold back the slightly musical tone or his eyebrows inclination to move on their own. His body knew what he was getting at, and he could see it only increased Edgar's fluster. All the better.

"Well I do now!" Edgar darted up and away, stumbling in his hasty retreat. "If you'll excuse me!" though he was already practically in the hallway by the time he said it. What a display, and Scriabin's laugh was loud and natural.

Finally, something positive. He'd managed to fumble his way through, not his best work in lying or manipulation, but he'd set some important groundwork. He'd gotten some answers, and he could start to shape some more believable stories around them.

The biggest hurdles were Johnny and Devi. As long as Edgar didn't meet with them too soon - or well, at all would be preferable, but he doubted he could just keep him locked up, as much as the idea appealed to him. There were so many things that were possible now, things that he had the ability to do, given the right circumstances... All of that in due time. For now he had a yarn to spin.

He listened as Edgar fumbled in the hall, the sheer sound of cloth being pulled and folded over an arm barely perceptable. Was he really going to try to sleep on what little was left over? Maybe he'd give up once he realized the pickings were thin and beg Scriabin to let him sleep with him. Hah.

While he was out, Scriabin made his way over to the pajamas drawer. They were all old and soft, even just to his hand. They'd do for now, until he could get his own. It wasn't like he hadn't worn all this before anyway.

By the time he'd finished dressing, his clothes discarded on the opposite side of the bed to where Edgar had set up his little nest, Edgar had finally gotten himself a set of pajamas. He wondered for a moment if he'd dress with Scriabin in the room again, though maybe his intense stare drove him off. Who could say. He patted the bed with a wide grin when he returned and was dutifully ignored. He settled down to the side, and Scriabin laid on his arms to look down at him.

"Ugh, lame."

"I don't-"

"Yeah, whatever." He'd heard it all before. At least he could literally look down on him like this. He folded his hands and leaned just a bit further, looking him over. A desire he hadn't realized he had surfaced in the dark and quiet. "Give me your hand."

"Sorry?" Scriabin held out his hand expectantly.

"I used to hear your heart beat every day." Edgar looked at him incredulously, but Scriabin was unperturbed. "Let me hear it again."

He hesitated but eventually slowly offered his arm. "...Okay."

He pulled his arm up and placed his thumb against his wrist. He felt a strange mismatch - where he'd been expecting one heartbeat, there were two. He covered his surprise, near shock at the realization that of course he had his own body now, by pulling harder on Edgar's arm, directing him up to his ear.

"Wh-"

"Shh." Quietly. He had wanted this, wanted this body, this separation, this freedom for so long, and now... He spoke quietly, his voice betraying nothing. "I'm listening."

Edgar's pulse was erratic, but he hardly paid attention to it. His own fingers on Edgar's skin, warm and pliant, and Edgar's fingers twitching in his hair, he could feel it, he was trying not to touch him- This hesitation was killing him, every jerky movement away not from fear of what Scriabin could do to him, just uncertainty, like he was still a stranger- He pressed him harder to his head, and he could feel goosebumps under his fingers. He wanted to just hold him there until all the memories they'd shared poured back through him, into his blood, into his breath.

Where are you?

But he replied in that same uncertain, guarded tone that indicated he didn't know, not really.

"C...can I have my arm back now?"

He pushed him away. "Fine." Edgar curled his hand protectively against his chest, and he noticed he rubbed it slightly, he probably hadn't even realized.

He mumbled out a harried "Good night," and it was almost enough to make Scriabin smile. Almost. He could still affect him but this wasn't enough, it wasn't right.

He laid his head on the pillow, not bothering to pull his arm up over the side of the bed. If he twitched in the night and touched Edgar, well, that could mean anything. Maybe he was dreaming. Maybe he did it on purpose. Plausible deniability was one of his greatest assets.

As it was, he was just tired. Maybe he didn't pull it back because he hated the thought of sleeping alone, pushed out and forgotten, and hated it more that he was even thinking something like that. How pathetic. He didn't need anyone, especially not Edgar.

But he was tired. Not in his right mind.

Does this mean we can start over...?

The thought echoed and died, and he slept.

[sorceressofthesky]

No worries at all! I've seen your analyses before and I really love reading your thoughts; I'll put my own contributions under a cut.

With regards to the ventilation system - Cassandra's monologue at the start of S2E3 tells us that this was her doing, as per the following: The rise of industry in the fissures has led to the air becoming increasingly toxic. I've instructed our architects to devise a ventilation system. The people of the underground deserve to breathe. So that woman in the picture is definitely her. Cassandra is meant to be roughly the same age as Silco and Vander, perhaps a little older (I'd say early-mid 50s?). She looks a fair bit younger in that picture than she does in Season 1, so I'd agree that this shifts the timeline earlier than Silco's solo era. I'm guessing that places it either during or slightly before construction of the Lanes, with V & S 16-17ish at minimum. These are the pictures I pulled out from the time of the vents being built:

These show the precise areas believed to be affected by the Grey. From this, it looks like the Grey was thought to have originated from the pipes underground and spread to the upper levels, bleeding into the Piltovian air. I think it's possible that the "rise of industry" around the beginning of Vander and Silco's era resulted in the Grey rising much higher than it had before, and that was when the council started to take notice. We know the mines were still operational at the time because of Felicia and Connol, so the picture of miners watching Cassandra cut the ribbon wouldn't be out of place, and we do also know that the vents helped filter air in the lower levels as well as the upper levels. I guess they saw the pollution affecting the upper levels and went to investigate lower down, which brought the magnitude of the issue to their attention.

As for Silco's role during his time of solo leadership, I do still think he had some level of involvement with the council, however small. I doubt he ever met or spoke directly to the council - that seems extremely unlikely - but him at least being known to them as an "industrialist" indicates that his name has come up before. Caitlyn recognises his name too, which seems like such an odd detail; he must have made an impression either on Cassandra or on the Enforcers for Cait to have heard about him. At the very least, Silco is recognised as a prominent figure in Zaun with a lot of wealth and influence, and they've conducted investigations into his activity before, led by Marcus. Notably, Jayce doesn't seem to have heard of him ("what does this Silco even want from us" in S1E8, the phrasing "this Silco" implying that the name is new to him), so I don't think he's well known to anyone outside of Piltovian authorities.

The Council Archives shed some light on this in Vi's prison records and the transcript of a conversation between an Enforcer and one of Chross's underlings. The files there suggest that Silco's name might have come up a few times in various interrogations and through prisoners who work for him - thus warranting the investigations that Marcus claims to have conducted, which obviously turned up no evidence. I don't think the game is actually regarded as 100% canon though, so it isn't the most reliable source. Regardless of the how and why, Silco is definitely someone on the council's radar, and he himself is very fixed on a particular method of dealing with them ("we both know Topside won't listen to anything else" in S1E3). Whatever he's seen or heard about the council led him to believe that they aren't easily swayed, and I think he was expecting a lot more pushback than he got when it came to his negotiations for independence ("the boy didn't even haggle" in S1E9). A big part of that is presumably the difference between Jayce and Heimerdinger's receptiveness to change in the main timeline, which also supports the theory about Heimer helping out in the AU since he's much more open by then.

Vi and Powder's old house is something I've wondered about too; it looks like a pretty big house, with a staircase identical to the one in the Kirammans' mansion, which seems super inconsistent with Felicia and Connol being miners who - in Felicia's own words - were "living week to week". The most plausible theory I can think of on that front is that they wanted to live away from the Lanes in the early days of V & S due to the uncertainty at that time, which would have made it an impractical place to raise young kids. At the time of Felicia's first pregnancy, it doesn't sound like the Lanes have even been built yet, so there would have been inevitable risks with living in and around The Last Drop. Maybe them continuing to work in the mines had something to do with it too, since they're much better off with a stable, reliably-paying job rather than risking arrest via involvement with the smuggling operation. She essentially counts herself out of their mission when she says "you two are going to figure this thing out", so I guess she played a moral support role rather than an active role in Zaun's foundation.

As for their old house being the place where the extremely poor reside, I'm guessing that was a new development after Felicia and Connol died? We know Powder and Vi ended up living in the basement of The Last Drop, which I assume is because Vander was working there while looking after them and they were too young to live on their own. I guess others who were involved in the riot might have down lived there too, and it became abandoned when they all died? Or everyone else who lived there just got gradually driven out? Maybe there was a collapse or some similar catastrophe that destroyed everything down there and made it unlivable?

On the question of air quality, I actually don't think the air is that bad there. We see that the Enforcers wear masks in early Season 1 when Vander is in power, while none of the Topsiders who go down there during Silco's era ever have an issue - Caitlyn, Marcus, Heimerdinger, etc. Caitlyn is even able to breathe fine when walking among the Shimmer addicts, and Vi and Jinx have no issue walking through the mining tunnels in the Sump despite Jinx struggling to breathe the Grey earlier in the season. What confuses me most is why Silco is able to tolerate the Grey just fine, while the chembarons aren't, if most of them started out in the mines just like he did. Sevika and Jinx both spend a lot of time on the same level as Silco and neither of them have the same tolerance that he does. I don't think Sevika was a miner though, judging by the way she talks about her dad (she describes it as though it's new information to Silco, implying that they didn't know each other until she was a bit older), and Jinx definitely wasn't either; so I guess it's just a combination of Silco growing up in the mines and continuing to live quite deep in the underground, when no one else seems to have both of those things in common. Ekko does say that the air is "denser" in the Fissures, so it's definitely different to the air on the upper levels/in Piltover, even if it's not quite as toxic anymore.

Also, re: one of the chembarons being a Piltie, it's specified in The Council Archives that Chross is from Piltover - again, I don't think these are regarded as strictly canon, but it could help to answer that question. It does strike me as strange that Silco's speech wouldn't necessarily apply to all of them, especially since the lines about giving them fresh air and purpose are spoken directly to Finn. One possible solution is that, like Felicia and Connol, Finn and/or his family were still working in the mines around the time of Silco and Vander's reign (and I presume Vander's solo reign as well), and it was only once Silco took over that the underground mining operations were entirely shut down. That doesn't seem like enough time for Finn to be "too young to remember" though, so maybe Silco and Vander closed down some of the more dangerous mining tunnels. I do agree that Finn's "enterprise" line probably refers to the smuggling/trading focus during the golden age of V & S, since the Lanes are described as a marketplace. Vander and Silco essentially made it possible for Zaunites to make money in their own right, without relying on Topside for resources, but that potential was capped under Vander with the crackdown on smuggling ("keep your people off my streets", per Grayson in S1E1) - hence Finn's frustration.

I agree with both Vander and Silco taking protection money, and I could see Vander channelling at least a portion of his money back into the community. Babette tells Vi "things have changed without Vander looking out for us" (S1E5), and everyone in The Last Drop gets up from their seats when he appears to need backup - once when he's helping out Huck in S1E1, and once when Marcus taunts him about Silco in S1E2. I don't know precisely what else he was financing outside of the bar, but I get the impression that he didn't have a ton left over for himself and his kids at the end of it; probably enough to live comfortably, but not enough to fund a life of excess. In Silco’s case, Babette says that "a few tried" to stop him, but he's "got the muscle... and the money", so it sounds like Silco had to put a lot of his resources into keeping people in line. He seems to spend more money on himself than Vander did (he has much nicer clothes after S1 Act 1 and a limousine parked out the front of The Last Drop), but he still lives on the lower level, rather than close to the surface like the chembarons do, and it looks like he sleeps on the couch in his office judging by the blanket.

I think as far as Vi going after Vander herself, the best possible explanations are either that she had the most faith in her ability over those of Vander's allies (she's pretty stubborn and self-reliant, and may have deemed it quicker/safer/more reliable to go there immediately rather than waste time trying to recruit someone else to do it for her), or that she just outright didn't know about Vander's dealings (she didn't know about his deal with Grayson, so there's probably a lot that he was keeping from the kids).

@sorceressofthesky

I hope it's okay that I pull this out as the threads can have a tendency to get very long :)

Personally, I find it super hard to buy that that Silco was the one who talked Caitlyn's mom into building the ventilation systems after he took over from Vander.

Part of it is: if Silco was that good at talking to the council and getting them to do pro-Zaun things, why would he stop talking to them? Especially since season 1 shows how easily the council can be swayed into granting Zaun independence. I always read it as Silco not being interested in the council and not paying much attention to it, maybe because he has a low opinion of it. If he was already that involved with the council in the past, it just seems like big events from Jayce becoming a councilor, Heimerdinger being ousted or the Piltover reaction to the bridge massacre would be something he would show more interest in then he does.

The other part of it is that the Kiramman vents just … feel older? From the pathos of Caitlyn being handed the Kiramman key like it's a family tradition to the picture that presumably show the vents being opened. Either by a young Cassandra or by some even older ancestor. It just seems like if the vents were being built not just within Caitlyn's lifetime but also while Caitlyn is already pretty grown, it just seems like that would have come up?

The women is opening the vents together with miners in the background, evoking more the young Silco and Vander era.

And she's wearing the same or a very similar outfit to the portrait in the middle which is why people think either very young Cassandra or Cassandra's mother.

I'm not sure if I find the idea that Cassandra wouldn't know about the plight of the undercity just because tha very sheltered girl like Caitlyn didn't know all that plausible. We know she is sheltered because Cassandra even ordered for her to do boring prestige guard duty than even encounter just crime in Piltover. So if she has never been to the undercity and the papers don't write about it, how would she know?

And while the Pilties maybe are unlikely to casually care about the plight of the Zaunites, árguably them caring if it impacts their business is well in character (there's this really cool WIP by @out-there-tmblr that is just doing a plot about how the mines dug to deep, the Gray is getting worse so miners are start refusing to work those particular shafts so the Piltie engineers are coming in to install vents that imo feels plausible in "that's what Pilties would do" way).

And again, if Silco was responsible for it, why wouldn't he show up in those pictures compared to the Kiramman woman posing with miners? (it doesn't help that modern Zaun feels like it's more about factories than about mines)

So yes, I definitely leaning towards the vents being older based on the look of the Kiramman woman. But it being done within Vander and Silco's youth I think is an interesting idea.

I personally find it generally confusing how bad the air situation is. Yes the enforcers wear masks in Act 1, but none of the locals do. Then we have the sumps. The implications are that the sumps are low and "the bad parts" right?

So a headcanon could be something like:

Silco and Vander and some of the chem barons are young => The Gray is bad.

Cassandra installs the vents => air quality gets better. Maybe sections that weren't livable before are livable now.

Silco and Vander take their mining knowledge and maybe carve a middle section, somewhere between the upper levels that are already lived in by people and maybe too expensive and the sump that is still dark and shitty to live in.

There being more air systems in Silco's time could be advances in technology or it could be the factories causing a new, different type of pollution?

(an interesting facette here is the AU where the air is clearly much better but the implication is that it's done with more plant/nature based technology rather than more chemtechy one)

[complete side note, due to the 3 years Heimer has been there my head canon for the AU is that Silco and Vander reunited over Vi's death, together they made political advacements and that after a while in Heimer arrives and gave them a boost in regards to technology]

Silco saying to the chem barons he brought them up and gave them "a taste of topside" could also be explained by

the literally moved them from the lower levels to the higher levels (either by moving them to the lanes or by making them so rich that they can live even in the areas above the Lanes, just like their meeting tower is very high up even while Silco is the one who stil lives far down) after Vander was killed because they for some reason were stuck down there

or all people that lived lower moved to the Lanes when Silco and Vander "built the lanes".

or maybe a young Silco was among the miners that convinced the Kiramann's to build the vents

Finn's line is interesting, because it doesn't sound like Silco pulled him from the mines/depths. It sounds more like he was around during Vander's time watching from the sidelines and not liking how Vander was doign things. As opposed to he lived elsewhere and was lifted up.

But he also looks a bit younger, so he has a different backstory than the others (but there's generally the problem that I think the Caitlyn files said that at least one chembaron is actually a Piltie, so wouldn't at least that guy have a different backstory than the other chem barons? so when he's giving his speech to the chem barons there's at least two people in the room to whom that speech doesn't really apply?) . After all we have the "You're too young to remember what the undercity was before it became an "enterprise"."

So this exchange suggests:

there was a time where the Undercity was a lot more primitive and Vander does remember it but Finn is too young

but already under Vander the undercity became more like an enterprise (maybe because Vander and Silco turned the Lanes into a more smuggling/trade based economy rather than a mining/producing based one, or maybe also because of the protection money) at least in Finn's eyes, or at least he thought it had the potential to be one if run better

Another thing I find confusing is okay, so there's the region where the shimmer addicts live, right? And the implication to me was that is the bad part of Zaun? The part where the air is bad, where the lowest of the low live, that's why Jesus!Viktor goes there to make his commune.

But according to season 1, this is where Vi, Powder, Connel and Felicia lived. Ie the place where presumably all the fluffy Powder and Vi as kids memories from the Remember Me flashback take place. At first I thought maybe that place was like just a shack where maybe they just played and Felicia made the height charts, but it looks like a comparatively nice house with a staircase and ornaments?

Again, if this the shitty place of the Undercity, why would Vander and Silco's cherished friend live there when the Last Drop was available?

Benzo talks to Vander about "rounding up the collections",

Yes, just like Sevika talks about doing the same for Silco in season 2.

IMO both Silco and Vander were taking protection money. I personally think that they both can be seen as as a system of proto-taxes and it's more a question whether people got anything back from it. Maybe that's a reason why Vander seemed to be more popular with the people, if people saw it more as Vander building up infrastructure/houses for them while with Silco the money goes more towards building up factories or making weapons. (with factories likely being useful infrastructure as well, but maybe people don't see it because it's more indirect).

But that's kind of an interesting question in itself: What does Vander spend his money on? He seems to be living a well enough maybe "middle-class-y" lifestyle with his kids, but Vi certainly doesn't feel rich, hence her rants about how they have nothing compared to Pilties.

I would presume he has an income from the bar. So if he the bar money and the collection money, was is the money being spent on? Paying the guys who do the collections? Maybe they serve as guards/police against those unwanted elements that according to Jinx's season 2 line started fighting as soon as Vander was gone? But if Vander has like organized supporters, why on earth did Vi think it was a good idea to collect her kid brothers as support to spring Vander free from Silco rather than fetch whatever remaining allies Vander might have had? Or at the "guys" Benzo speaks off more like loose contractors, maybe not even particularly powerful people and people pay their taxes just out of fear of Vander?

(I have played around with the idea that maybe Vander spends the and Silco is more the "I will build a factory that gives you employment so you can make your own money" guy) collections on more charitable things like families in need () and that's why people remember him fondly. But with the whole "build the lanes" thing, maybe there's a chance that there are still building projects/they are still expanding? I think a big thing with the whole "building the lanes" in an engineering way that I just don't pictured neither Vander not Silco as that much of a construction/engineering guy, but who knows. Maybe just Zaunite ingenuity again)

[icewindandboringhorror]

More misc. daily life pictures and such

[bisexualamy]

I see people talk about fanfiction and novels being different mediums a lot, and while I don’t necessarily disagree, I don’t feel like I understand either. In your opinion, what makes them different mediums from each other? What decides that two things are separate mediums like in general? It’s totally cool if you don’t wanna answer this btw, I know it’s kind of a lot

No worries I think that's an interesting question! With any categories, the boundaries on this are going to be fuzzy, but the reason I believe they're different mediums is that fundamentally, on a metatextual level, the languages are different. What do I mean by this? Let's use film as an example, a medium that I'd argue is very obviously a different medium than novels, even if we may not be able to articulate all the reasons why.

What are some attributes of film that differentiate it from novels (another storytelling medium) or paintings (another visual medium)? Films and novels are both storytelling mediums, but films have visual and auditory components. They also mainly consist of storytelling through visual cues and dialogue. Exposition is given visually or in media res by characters speaking. In a novel, your omniscient narrator giving you a few paragraphs of background on your main characters is common, and so expected it probably flies over the reader's head. In a film, a narrator doing the exact same thing for all the main characters often comes off clumsy. It takes you out of the story in a film, where it doesn't in a novel.

Film is also a time-based medium. A film unfolds over time, and you cannot experience the entire film in one moment or glance. That's not true of a painting (at least traditionally). With a painting, you can view the whole painting in one look. Now, you can sit with a painting, pick out details, analyze the craft or ponder it for a long time and watch as new aspects jump out at you. Fundamentally, however, if you wanted to view a whole painting in one look, you can, and it would still make sense. You cannot do that with a film. On the other hand, a painting is typically not an auditory experience. To do so would be an experimental use of the form. In modern film-making, the exact opposite is true. Music, dialogue, and environmental sound, all of these things are essential to how a film tells a story. To not use them would be considered experimental or odd.

These are three different mediums with three different "languages" in how they interact with their audience. They may share parts of their languages, like I said above, but they don't speak the same language. What works well for one medium can come off clumsy or strange in another.

I believe fanfic and novels have sufficiently different languages that they should be considered different mediums. Both of them are short or long form written mediums telling some sort of story. But fanfic's relationship to its source material is such an inherent trait that novels do not have. The relationship doesn't have to be positive (it's often, in fact, argumentative or strained or dismissive), but the relationship exists. Even in AU fanfiction. Even in fics full of OCs.

In canon compliant and even canon divergent fics, this relationship is more obvious. These fics are both conversations with the source material as much as they are stories. They're playing in the author's sandbox, or they're wrecking their sandcastle and building something else. They're saying "I like/dislike what you did with this specific story, and I'm going to show you that by rewriting or expanding it." They take large aspects of the author's story whole cloth: the characters, the setting, the magic system, the tech, etc.

These fanfics often have little exposition at the top because they presume a familiarity with the characters, the world, or both. This alone makes them really different from novels. Creatively and seamlessly integrating exposition, immersing your audience in a new world and convincing them to stay, is a really important aspect of a novel that these fics don't have to contend with. This alone fundamentally changes how you'd structure a story.

For AU fics, both fics in AU settings and AU fics full of OCs, the above still applies. These fics are still a conversation with the source material. Something about the source material compelled an author to flip it and remix it and change it around. That conversation might be "in the source material, these characters suffered, and I don't want them to suffer any longer" or it could be "I felt the story had a vacancy that this OC fills" or it could be "if these characters had the time/awareness/ability to grow closer, they would've fallen in love." These are all direct commentaries on the original work.

An exercise that I believe illustrates this point the best is to try and adapt an AU fanfic to an original work. Try to file the serial numbers off. I've done this with some of my fic, and it just doesn't work. You don't realize how much you presume the audience knows until you have to cater to an audience who knows nothing of the source material. That hilarious joke you wrote? Turns out it's only funny because it's a nod to this character's original characterization. This awesome climatic plot point that ties the whole story together? Turns out in relies on a specific bit of lore, a quirk of the magic system, or an aspect of the character's past history or personality. Now that this is a novel, you have to back-fill all of that exposition. And you can try to do that, but watch how your story gets clunky and bloated. You will have to start viciously killing your darlings, as you realize that your favorite scene is beautiful in a fic, but sounds awkward and out of place in a novel. Soon, you're basically just rewriting the whole thing to fit a different medium.

Many fanfic writers are extremely talented. And much of that talent, that wit, that perfect line that you can't get out of your head, is integrally informed by your knowledge of the source material. The irony falls flat without having read the source books. The relationships suddenly feel shallow when you don't have seasons of backstory to deepen them. You do not realize how much of fanfic writing consists of this back and forth until you go looking for it.

And here's the thing: if your fanfic has a totally AU setting and it consists of completely original characters, I'd argue that's just a novel posted to AO3. If all you need to do is change the names to make it work, that's a novel. This is why Clueless is inspired by Jane Austen's Emma and not an AU fanfic of it. If you've never read Emma, if you went into Clueless not knowing that Emma was the inspiration for it, you'd perfectly understand the movie.

In fanfic, the source material is always present. It can be obviously present with canon compliant fic. It can be antagonistically present with canon divergent or AU fic. And it is still present, floating in the background, with totally AU fic. Ultimately, the changes a fanfic author makes to the source material are, themselves, as integral to the fanfic as the words on the page. It is a dialogue with the source material: what it did well, what it could've done better, what this author believes is the essence of the story, or the world pushed to its limit, that even though we're in space or in a coffee shop or 1920s New York, we're still, on some level talking about the source material.

This is an aspect of fanfic I love that novels do not have. Novels have a lot of other great stuff! I love novels! But while novels are often engaged in a dialogue with their present society or their predecessors in a genre, that conversation is much more nebulous than it is with fanfic. You can read Slaughterhouse-Five or Gravity's Rainbow, and while knowing their contexts helps you understand them on a deeper level, that is unnecessary to their enjoyment. They are fundamentally more standalone works than fanfic will ever be.

This is ultimately why I think comparing fanfic and novels is comparing apples to oranges. They're different mediums. They use different languages. They require different skills and they fill different artistic niches. You might as well be comparing a film to a painting just because they're both visual art.

[silverselfshippingchaos]

it's genuinely so funny how he's all covered up EXCEPT for the abs

[husband]

Hi, im a beginner horror enjoyer and im really disturbed by a lot of gore but i wanna understand the Texas Chainsaw Massacre movies bc ive heard theyre hugely influential on the genre (rightly so too)

I figured with all this id ask the foremost texas chainsaw scholar i am aware of

Could you tell me the basics, if its gross (im really bad at tolerating gross out horror and gore played realistic), and any fun tidbits?

If not i thank you for reading and hope you have a good day ^-^

The Texas Chain Saw Massacre was hugely influential on the genre and set the standard for low budget horror and inspired future filmmakers to rely more on psychological terror over gore & violence! It was also seemingly the birth of a lot of horror tropes, like big, masked killers and using power tools for weapons.

Texas Chainsaw's story is inspired by serial killers like Ed Gein and Elmer Wayne Henley. The movie’s director, Tobe Hooper, was inspired by the graphic coverage of violence by San Antonio news outlets and based elements of the plot on murderer Ed Gein, who was a notorious serial killer who made furniture out of human body parts and created a mask made of human skin. The movie’s underlying themes are mostly the horrors of isolation, and the dangers of unchecked capitalism. The movie is also a metaphor for the Nixon-era mayhem and the government’s deceit toward the public during the 1970s. Hooper intentionally misled audiences by claiming that the movie was based on a true story to attract a wider audience.

I honestly don't know how to give you the basics aside from a plot synopsis because I would, hand to God, be sitting here for about 12 hours minimum going into every weird little detail, like the intricacies of bubba's mental issues and being forced to take on a female role for his abusive older brothers, or all the absolutely insane shit that happened during filming. And that'd just be me talking about the FIRST film.

But if you want to ask me more questions or see more Texas chainsaw related stuff you can ask/look over at my blog @chainsawhouse. I just hate to gum up my main blog with this particular interest.

Also, my fun tidbit is that they've recently confirmed that there is a new Texas Chainsaw Massacre in the works, under the title 'Texas Chainsaw Legacy'! Very fun imo.

[candlebel]

I cared. I still do. I still think of you and I still cry over you. You were importat to me. You still are.