#two desert themed gals

[selfless-solipsist]

°˖✧ The Night Shift ✧˖° [Wander]

「 ✦ "Hi, I'm Wander! Here to help you SMILE! 😊🌟💖"✦ 」

╰┈➤ Wander x Female Reader ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

> Having Wander as your boyfriend - the (almost) full experience. > Suggestive themes (as per usual), but nothing smutty happening > It's PROBABLY going to have a second part (yes it's going to be a lemon); not sure yet, we'll see

The fluorescent lights overhead buzzed like a swarm of sleepy bees, casting their cold glow on the otherwise deserted Blarpee's convenience store. You strolled behind the counter, the scuffed linoleum floor sighing under your boots, and plopped into the cracked vinyl chair that had become your throne during these lonely night shifts. Grabbing a magazine from the rack—a glossy mess of articles that no one but night-shift employees ever bothered to read—you leaned back, one leg casually crossed over the other. But barely two sentences into an article about "Top Ten Reasons Blorpberries Will Change Your Life," you heard it: the unmistakable sound of someone applying their face—enthusiastically and with zero shame—to the front window. Your expression didn't even flinch; your soul sighed, though.

Turning your head slowly, you spotted the culprit. 

Wander. Of course.

His tangerine face was plastered against the glass like a starry-eyed sticker someone forgot to peel off. His hat flopped comically to one side, and his wide grin looked about ready to burst with excitement. He waved a hand with all the subtlety of a neon sign, his eyes sparkling like he had just spotted the universe's last Thunder Blazz.

You stared at him, expressionless, your magazine dangling limply. "Seriously?" you asked, your voice as flat as the expired gum stuck under the counter.

Yes. Seriously.

His breath fogged the glass as he wiggled his eyebrows dramatically. "Can you see me? Can you see meee?" He shouted the last part like it was a one-man concert for the most inconvenient time of the night.

"Wander. Door," you said, jabbing a finger in its direction without moving from your seat.

"But this is more fun!" His voice was muffled but carried that same unrelenting cheer. He flailed his arms like a starfish caught in a rave. "Bet you didn't think you'd get front-row tickets to this performance, huh?"

You sighed, turning back to your magazine. "If you keep at it, I'm charging admission."

"What's that? I can't hear you! Too much glass!" He pressed himself even harder, smushing his hat in the process. You were half-convinced his hat brim was sentient and rolling its metaphorical eyes at his antics.

"Just. Use. The. Door." Your tone was drier than the snack aisle, which, considering the state of Blarpee's inventory, was saying something.

Finally, he relented, disappearing from the window with a goofy spin before bursting through the door like a confetti cannon, bell jingling above him. He practically skipped to the counter, his sky-blue shoes squeaking on the linoleum. "Good evening, my favorite Blarpee's employee!" he announced, leaning his elbows onto the counter and giving you a crooked grin. "How's my gal doing tonight?"

You quirked a brow at him. "Oh, you know. Thrilled to be here, living the dream. Totally don't want to lock the doors and run for the hills."

Wander chuckled, the sound warm and sweet like syrup on pancakes. He tilted his head, puckering his lips dramatically. "Smooch tax," he said, waggling his eyebrows again. "You know the rules."

You leaned forward just enough to plant a quick kiss on him, your lips brushing his with a precision that screamed, we have done this too many times before. "Satisfied?"

"For now," he said, grinning so wide you wondered if his face had hinges. "But don't be surprised if I come back for seconds."

With a small amused huff, you got comfortable in your seat again, resting your elbow on the counter. "You don't have to come here every night, you know. I can handle myself."

"I know," he said, hopping onto the counter like it was the most natural thing in the world. Then, he looked around the store like a captain surveying his ship. "But I'd feel bad if something happened to you while I was off gallivanting around the galaxy. And besides..." He gave you a sly look. "You secretly love it when I show up."

You snorted, closing your magazine with a snap, placing it on slightly dusty surface of the furniture in front of you. "Oh, yeah, nothing gets my heart racing like hearing you shout at the window like a deranged mime."

Wander gasped, clutching his chest as if you had struck him. "Deranged? My darlin', that cuts deeper than a bargain-bin pizza slicer!"

"Good. Maybe you'll think twice before smearing your face on my windows again." You got up, already heading to the back to grab a mop. If he was here, chaos wasn't far behind, and you might as well be prepared.

Your precious boyfriend followed you of course, practically bouncing on his heels. "So, what's the plan for tonight? Midnight snack thief? Random galactic weirdo stumbling in? Or maybe..." He wiggled his fingers dramatically. "...a daring heist involving canned Blorpberries?"

You paused, looking over your shoulder at him. "My bet's on you getting your hat stuck in the slushy machine again."

He gasped, tugging his hat defensively. "That was one time!"

"Sure," you said, lips twitching ever so slightly. "One time this month."

He grinned, falling into step beside you. "Aw, you know you love it. Admit it."

You rolled your eyes but didn't argue. It was the truth after all.

And honestly you weren't even surprised when he darted into the supply closet before you could even grab the object you were looking for. That closet was like his personal treasure trove—unofficially, of course. When he emerged, your lips quirked upward. Wander had wrangled himself into one of the Blarpee's employee shirts—a white tee with a red stripe—and it hung off his small frame like a toddler wearing their parent's shirt for dress-up. It stopped just above his knees, making him look like the universe's most adorable cinnamon roll. The effect was only enhanced when he grabbed a marker and a blank name tag from the counter. You watched as he leaned over the furniture with intense focus, his tongue sticking out in concentration. He scribbled on the tag, making exaggerated skrt skrt noises as the marker swirled and squeaked against the surface. When he finally slapped it onto his chest, it read:

"Hi, I'm Wander! Here to HELP you SMILE! 😊 🌟💖 "

Complete with doodled stars, hearts, and what appeared to be a tiny stick-figure version of himself holding hands with a much taller figure (presumably you).

You raised a brow, crossing your arms. "You do realize you're not actually an employee, right?"

Wander grinned at you, the picture of innocence—which, let's face it, you knew better by now. Behind that sweet smile was a certified freak who had had you up against the storage shelves more times than you cared to admit. "Not officially," he said, spinning dramatically, the oversized shirt flaring like a cape. "But in spirit? I'm Employee of the Month!"

"Sure you are." You leaned against the counter, crossing your arms over your chest. "When they start awarding that title for 'Most Chaos Caused in a Single Shift.'"

"Pfft! I'm not chaotic—I'm proactive." He  puffed out his chest, the shirt swallowing his frame even more. He hopped onto the counter, feet dangling like a kid waiting for storytime. "Now, what's first on tonight's agenda? Stocking shelves? Wiping down counters? Or should I stand by the door and greet customers with my winning smile?"

You gave him a deadpan look. "How about you don't scare off the three people who'll actually walk in tonight?"

He gasped, clutching his heart dramatically. "I would never! My smile is welcoming! It's like...a warm hug for your soul!"

"Your smile is a lot of things," you said, heading to the small room and grabbing the mop he had neglected in favor of his self-appointed 'uniform', before emerging from the small space yourself. "Subtle isn't one of them."

Wander hopped off the counter, practically vibrating with excitement. "That's why it works! Blarpee's deserves five-star service, and tonight, I'm here to deliver!" He struck a heroic pose, pointing to the ceiling like he was about to declare war on dust particles.

You sighed, dragging the mop across the floor with practiced apathy. "You still know more about this store than I do, don't you?"

"Maybe," he said, winking. "I mean, who else would know that the Blorpberry pies expired two weeks ago, the Thunder Blazz display wobbles if you bump it, and there's a loose tile in the snack aisle that squeaks like a baby Sneezlefruit?"

"You do realize you've basically been spying on this place, right?"

He grinned wider. "Spying? No, no. Observing! There's a difference!"

"Sure." You glanced at the Thunder Blazz display, which did in fact wobble ominously. "Should I start calling you Captain Blarpee's?"

He gasped like you'd just crowned him king of the universe. "Ooooh, I like that! Captain Blarpee's, defender of convenience stores everywhere!" He spun around, the hem of his oversized shirt flying like a cape again.

You shook your head, hiding the faintest hint of a smirk. "If you're done playing dress-up, you can help me wipe down the counters."

Immediately, he saluted at that with exaggerated gusto, the name tag on his chest slipping slightly. "Captain Blarpee's is on the case!" He grabbed a rag, darting behind the register with the speed and determination of someone about to rescue kittens from a burning building. And as he worked, humming an upbeat tune under his breath, you couldn't help but watch him for a moment. Beneath the chaos and theatrics, there was something undeniably endearing about his energy, even if it drove you up the wall sometimes. But you would never tell him that, of course.

At least, not while he was wearing a name tag with doodled hearts.

Mostly because he tackled the counter with the kind of enthusiasm reserved for game show contestants or people who find out their favorite snacks are on clearance. He scrubbed the surface with an unnecessary amount of elbow grease, his uniform swishing as he leaned over dramatically, tongue sticking out like a dog riding a car window.

"Wander," you said, pausing mid-mop to watch him. "You're cleaning like the counter insulted your ancestors."

He glanced over his shoulder, his face lit up with mock shock. "Are you suggesting that I shouldn't treat this fine establishment with the respect it deserves?!" He pointed the rag at you, his expression so over-the-top serious you couldn't help but raise a brow. "Blarpee's counters are sacred. Do you know how many snack crumbs have met their untimely demise here?"

You let out a long, slow sigh, dragging the mop in a lazy arc. "Pretty sure most of them came from you."

He paused, staring into the distance like he was contemplating life's great mysteries. "That... is probably true," he admitted, scratching his chin with the corner of the rag. "But hey, it's a snack store. That's what it's for!"

You snorted, leaning your weight on the mop handle. "Uh-huh. Just don't bust out a eulogy for the crumbs. We've got enough weirdos wandering in without you scaring them off."

Wander gasped, clutching his chest again. "I would never scare off the fine patrons of this humble establishment!" He looked around conspiratorially, lowering his voice to a loud whisper. "Besides, if anyone causes trouble, I've got a secret weapon!"

"Let me guess," you deadpanned. "Your hat?"

"Nope!" He struck another dramatic pose, arms spread wide. "It's me."

You blinked, your expression flat. "Your secret weapon... is you?"

"Exactly!" He gave you finger guns and an exaggerated wink. "Who's gonna mess with a guy wearing a name tag this cool?" He tapped the tag proudly, the doodled hearts somehow glinting in the harsh fluorescent light.

Before you could retort, the bell above the door jingled, and you both turned to see a tall, hulking alien stomp inside, his eyes darting suspiciously.

Your humor drained as fast as the guy's boots squeaked on the linoleum. Wander, of course, stepped up, chest puffed out like a scrappy little bodyguard and employee in one, his outfit moving lightly with his movements. Then, he looked up at the alien like the cute little cutie pie he was as the massive guy's shadow practically swallowed him whole. "Howdy, friend! What brings ya to Blarpee's tonight? Lookin' for snacks, drinks, or maybe some good ol'-fashioned friendship?"

The alien—easily seven feet tall and built like someone who bench-pressed meteorites for fun—stared down at Wander. His crimson eyes squinted, his lip twitching like he was trying to decide if this was a joke, a fever dream, or a hidden camera show.

Your boyfriend, in true obnoxious yet lovable cartoon fashion, remained undeterred. "Ooooh, you've got the look of a fella who's on a mission! Let me guess..." He tapped his chin with exaggerated thoughtfulness, then snapped his fingers with a grin. "DING! You're here for the Thunder Blazz, aren't you? It's the drink of champions!"

The alien blinked, his massive hands twitching by his sides. "Uh... no?"

Wander gasped, clutching his hat. "Not the Thunder Blazz?!" He spun dramatically, pacing a few steps before pointing a finger at the guy like he had just uncovered a conspiracy. "Wait—don't tell me—you're here for the Blorpberry pies! They're two-for-one this week!"

"No," the man grunted, his brow furrowing. "I just need—"

"Wait, wait, wait," The nomad interrupted, holding up a hand and stepping forward until he was practically nose-to-stomach with the guy. "Let me guess one more time. You're here for... socks!" He gestured toward the endcap display of novelty socks featuring questionable slogans like Keep Your Tentacles Warm and Galactic Toes Rule.

The alien's confusion deepened, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air. "Why would I—no! I just need a—"

"A mystery customer!" Wander cut him off, clapping his hands and spinning in place. "My favorite kind! Don't worry, friend, Captain Blarpee's is on the case!" He darted behind the counter, practically vaulting over it in his oversized shirt. "Okay, okay, lemme guess—do you need batteries? A map? Oooh, some travel-sized shampoo?" He rummaged through a basket of clearance items, holding up random objects with glee.

You leaned on your mop, watching the scene unfold with the same bemused detachment you reserved for late-night infomercials. The alien, meanwhile, looked about one more question away from imploding. "I just need a pack of gum!" he finally snapped, his voice booming like a thunderclap.

Your partner froze mid-rummage, the clearance basket balanced precariously on his head. "Gum?!" he said, as though the concept had never occurred to him. "Why didn't you just say so, buddy?"

"I tried—"

"Great choice!" Wander interrupted again, dropping the basket onto the counter with a clatter. He darted to the gum display like a blur of orange and green, grabbing a pack and holding it up triumphantly. "Minty fresh! It's a classic! Perfect for a guy with your... uh... mysterious, brooding aura." He paused, squinting up at the alien. "Unless you're more of a fruity flavor kinda guy? Or maybe you're feeling spicy? Ooooh, they just got a cinnamon kind that'll knock your socks off—assuming you're wearing any!" He laughed, leaning in like they were old pals.

The alien's jaw worked silently, his shoulders visibly tense. You bit your lip to keep from laughing, the mop squeaking faintly as you leaned on it. This poor guy had no idea what he'd walked into. "I'll just take the mint," he growled finally, snatching the pack from the unofficial employee's hand like it was a lifeline.

"Excellent choice!" Wander beamed, darting back to the register. "That'll be two credits, and don't forget to grab a receipt—it's recyclable! Captain Blarpee's cares about the environment!" He pressed buttons on the register with exaggerated precision, but humming a quick tune as well, grinning up at the customer the whole time.

The guy fumbled with his money, dropping a coin that clattered to the floor.

As he bent to pick it up, Wander turned his attention toward you and cupped his fuzzy hands over his mouth, before whispering loudly, "I don't think he's wearin' socks!"

You snorted.

The alien slapped down a handful of credits, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, 'This place is cursed.' Yet as he turned to leave, Wander waved enthusiastically. "Come back anytime!" He called. "And remember—smiles are free, but good vibes are priceless!"

Not giving any sort of response, the man left, the bell above the door jingling as he stomped out. The moment he was gone, you let out a low chuckle, shaking your head as you resumed mopping. "You really know how to make an impression."

Wander turned to you, grinning like he had just won Employee of the Decade. "What can I say? It's a gift!"

"A gift for awkwardness," you said dryly, but the corners of your mouth twitched upward despite yourself. "That guy's probably gonna tell his friends to avoid this place forever."

"Or," He started, leaning on the counter with a mischievous glint in his eye, "he'll tell them about the charming little Blarpee's with the world's best customer service. You'll see."

You snorted again, shaking your head. "You're something else, Wander."

"Something amazing," he corrected, puffing out his chest.

Before long, the both of you got back to cleaning up the place, a few teasing jabs and smooches from the nomad himself landing your way. He, still in his oversized "uniform," got back to scrubbing the register counter like it owed him rent. His tongue peeked out from the corner of his mouth, wiggling in time with the circular motions of his rag. If effort alone could make the counter sparkle, this place would look like it belonged in a sci-fi movie, not a run-down convenience store. "So," he piped up after a moment of comfortable silence, without looking away from his self-appointed task, "are we going to your place or mine after your shift?"

You paused mid-swipe with the mop, leaning on the handle. "Wander, you don't have a place."

"Sure I do!" He straightened up, rag held triumphantly. "The universe is my home, the stars are my ceiling, and any planet with snacks is my pantry!"

You shot him a look that could have withered a houseplant. "You're a hobo with a hat."

"A charming hobo with a hat," he corrected, grinning. "And hey, don't knock it. Sleeping under the stars is romantic!"

You raised an unimpressed brow. "Romantic until we're naked on a blanket, an owl's watching us, and you're waving at it mid-thrust."

Wander snorted, his shoulders shaking with laughter. "Oh, c'mon, that owl wasn't traumatized. I helped it! Remember? I gave it a little flashlight from my hat so it wouldn't be scared of the dark!"

Tilting your head, you deadpanned. "While you were still going at it."

"Hey, multitasking!" He held up his hands like it was the most logical explanation in the world. "You were moaning, the owl was hooting—it was a beautiful harmony. And I made sure both my lady and my feathered friend were happy!" He puffed out his chest, looking ridiculously proud.

You stared at him for a long moment, then shook your head with a smirk you couldn't entirely suppress. "You're impossible."

"And you love it!" He shot back again, winking.

Ignoring his ridiculous antics, you finished mopping and headed for the fridge. The icy air nipped at your face as you grabbed a Thunder Blazz, cracking it open with a soft hiss. Slowly you walked back to the register, throwing a few coins inside with practiced ease. Leaning against the now-cleaned and shiny counter, you took a sip, the sweet, fizzy drink hitting your tongue like liquid chaos. Your back was to Wander, but you could feel his presence, his happy humming growing louder as he shuffled closer. But before you knew it, he was on his tiptoes, his arms sneaking around your waist from behind the counter. His touch was warm, his fingers curling over your stomach as he nuzzled against your back, his hat squishing slightly against your shoulder blade.

"Hi," he said softly, his voice dripping with affection.

You glanced down at his tiny hands encircling you, then tilted your head to look over your shoulder. "Hi."

"Guess what?" he asked as you leaned back a bit, squishing his cheek against you and grinning up like a kid waiting to share a secret.

"What?"

"Smooch tax," he said, puckering his lips dramatically.

You rolled your eyes but turned, bending slightly so you could press a kiss to his lips. He melted into it like butter on a hot pancake, his hat tilting precariously to one side as he smiled against your mouth. Maybe showing affection during work hours wasn't exactly the best thing, especially since there were cameras, but it wasn't like you would get fired. The store didn't have many people lining up for the night shift. But you did line up, and it ended with you meeting a particularly cute nomad, who was now your boyfriend. Life was good. So pulling back just enough to look at him, you noticed how his name tag was slightly crooked, the tiny hearts and doodles somehow making him look even more ridiculous—and ridiculously lovable.

"Better?" you asked, smirking.

"Always!" He beamed up at you, his eyes twinkling with that endless optimism you pretended to find annoying.

"So, yeah," you said, taking another sip of your drink. "It's my place after the shift. I'm not risking another wildlife therapy session."

"Fair," Wander said, resting his chin on the counter when he released you and looked up with a lazy grin. "But you've gotta admit, the owl thing was memorable."

You snorted, shaking your head as you finished the beverage. "Yeah, not sure that's the word I'd use."

"Well, then," he said, hopping down and twirling his rag like it was a victory flag, "let's make some new memories tonight—indoors, owl-free, and with plenty of snacks!"

Now that sounded nice.

After that conversation, you plopped back down on the creaky chair behind the register, leaning into it like it was a luxury recliner instead of a sad excuse for furniture. With a soft yawn, you propped your elbow on the counter, your chin resting in your hand. Night shifts had a way of making time feel like molasses—slow, sticky, and just a bit miserable. Wander, however, was the living embodiment of a sugar rush. He began roaming the aisles with boundless energy, humming a tune that sounded suspiciously like a mash-up of banjo music and elevator jazz. His oversized shirt swished with every step, the hem brushing against the linoleum sometimes when he crouched down as he grabbed snacks and drinks with a level of excitement you would reserve for finding buried treasure. He called out as he went, his voice echoing faintly in the quiet store. "Ooooh, Blorpberry Swirlies! Your favorite!" He tossed a bag of the gummy candy into his makeshift pile in his arms. "And—oh, they restocked the caramel-pretzel-moonchips! Those are for me, but I'll share," he added with a grin, his words as sweet as the snacks.

You smirked, watching him from your perch. "Generous of you, Captain Blarpee's."

He spun around dramatically, balancing his snack pile with one hand like he was auditioning for a circus act. "I am a man of the people!"

"Uh-huh," you said, trying not to laugh when a bag of chips teetered dangerously close to falling.

With that he continued his snack safari, darting into a new aisle. A moment later, he called out, "Hey, what's this?" You leaned slightly to see him holding up a bizarre, neon-green can that seemed to vibrate faintly in his grip. "Thunder Blazz MAX?!" he exclaimed, squinting at the label. "What's 'MAX' about it? Is it, like, extra fizzy? Or maybe it glows in the dark? Oh! What if it's got superpowers?!"

You rolled your eyes, stifling a grin. "More likely, it just gives you heartburn faster."

Wander tilted his head thoughtfully. "Hmm. Well, only one way to find out!" He tossed it onto his pile, which now resembled a snack-based Jenga tower. "Oh, and look at this!" He held up a tiny bag of what looked like dehydrated alien fruit. "It says 'Xtreem Astro Chews—Warning: May Cause Temporary Levitation.' You think they're kidding?"

"Do you want to risk floating into the ceiling again?" you asked flatly, raising a brow.

He shrugged, tossing the bag on top anyway. "Hey, I've always wanted to hover dramatically during snack time."

"Your funeral," you said, leaning back with a smirk.

Finally, he waddled up to the counter, his snack pile stacked so high that only his hat and the tips of his shoes were visible beneath it. With a triumphant "Ta-da!" he dumped everything onto the counter in a glorious, crinkling avalanche.

You raised a brow, grabbing the scanner. "Planning a snackocalypse, are we?"

"Only the best for my favorite gal!" Wander said, leaning on the counter, chin in hand. His eyes sparkled as he watched you scan each item, the scanner beeping rhythmically. Every time it beeped, he whispered, "Boop," under his breath, like it was the funniest thing in the universe.

You shook your head, biting back a smirk. "You know, for someone who doesn't get paid here, you're weirdly invested in making me work."

"Hey, somebody's gotta keep things interesting!" He grinned, not even pretending to be sorry.

Shaking your head fondly, you scanned the last of his snack collection and leaned on the counter, giving him a flat look. "Anything else, Captain Blarpee's? Or should we start installing snack shelving in my kitchen?"

He opened his mouth, likely for some quip, but his eyes wandered to the shelves of "personal items" in front of the counter. A spark of realization lit up his face. "Oh! We're out of, uh... supplies, aren't we?"

At that you stifled a laugh, watching as he took a step back to examine the colorful array of products on display. The shelves were a carnival of absurdity, they were those with the last-minute buys that somehow always got someone to pick something, featuring items like "Extra Blorped Galactic Glow Condoms" and "Astro-Resistant Ribbed Rockets." Your boyfriend tapped his chin, squinting at the labels like a seasoned critic at an art gallery. "Hmmm, we've tried these before," he said, pointing at a pack with glowing stars on the box. "They were pretty neat. I liked how they glowed—added some ambiance, you know?"

At that you tilted your head. "You spent more time playing shadow puppets than—well, you know.”

He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “Okay, fair. But hey, those shadow puppets were really good.”

“They were giraffes, Wander.”

“And you were impressed!” he shot back, pointing a finger at you.

You sighed, shaking your head as he continued his exploration. This was routine by now—Wander treating the condom shelf like it was a treasure hunt, and you trying not to laugh at his commentary. His enthusiasm was infectious, even if you had already tried most of what was on offer. Suddenly you heard him snicker, picking up another pack and reading it aloud. "'Astro-Lube Compatible—For Your Meteoric Pleasure.'" He tilted his head back at you. "What's meteoric about it, though?"

"I think it's just marketing," you said, rolling your eyes. "You gonna stand here critiquing packaging all night, or actually pick something?"

He hummed, reaching for a pack of "Double Galactic Glide—Extra Stretch!" ones. He grinned as he turned back to you. "Extra stretch, huh? You think it means I can, y'know..." He gestured dramatically, making an exaggerated ballooning motion with his hands.

"Wander, if you try to make balloon animals out of condoms again, I'm banning you from buying them," you warned, though your lips twitched with amusement.

He gasped, clutching the pack to his chest like you had threatened to destroy his banjo. "But they're so fun! Remember when I made that space llama?"

"Yeah, I also remember you accidentally popping it mid—"

"ANYWAY," he interrupted loudly, grabbing a bottle of lube from the shelf with his free hand. He examined it for a moment before flashing you a toothy grin. "Ooooh, this one's 'Comet Cool.' Perfect for those spicy nights when you wanna cool off, huh?"

You pinched the bridge of your nose, trying not to laugh. "Just pay for it already, you dork."

With a bounce in his step, he finally dumped the items onto the counter, alongside his snack hoard. Then came the usual spectacle—you watched with an unimpressed look as he propped a foot onto the counter, tilted his sneaker, and poured out what could only be described as a waterfall of credits. The coins jingled and clinked in a chaotic cascade, spilling across the surface like metallic confetti. "There we go!" he declared, sweeping the credits toward you with a proud smile. "That should cover it."

You stared at the mountain of coins, then at him. "You do this every time."

"And every time, it's charming," he said, winking.

Shaking your head, you began scooping credits into the register, muttering something about needing hazard pay for dealing with his nonsense. By the time you were done packing everything in a massive bag and placing it behind the counter for later, Wander had already leaned in, resting his elbows on the counter and propping his chin on his hands again. His wide eyes sparkled with mischief. "So," he said, his tone dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "About tonight... I was thinking we could, uh, mix things up a little."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "Mix things up how?"

His grin stretched wider, and his gaze flicked toward the magazine rack in the back of the store. "You know. Inspiration."

You sighed, dragging a hand down your face.

This was going to be a long shift.

And so you followed your fuzzy bundle of joy to the magazine rack, his oversized shirt swishing with his steps as he scanned the covers like a kid in a candy store. The rack itself was a chaotic mix of celebrity gossip, intergalactic home decor, and the pièce de résistance: Galactic Romance Weekly, complete with a cover featuring two aliens locked in what appeared to be an anatomically impossible embrace under a glowing moon.

Wander's grin stretched ear to ear as he grabbed a magazine and flipped it open, his eyes lighting up. "Ooooh, this looks fancy!" He tilted the page toward you, showcasing an overly airbrushed illustration of a couple attempting a position so convoluted it looked more like advanced yoga than anything romantic. You stared at it, trying to process the sheer nonsense. Soon enough, your boyfriend's grin faltered slightly, his brow furrowing as he turned the magazine back toward himself. He squinted, his mouth opening and closing like he wanted to say something but couldn't find the words. Finally, his face twisted into the funniest, most exaggerated expression of bafflement you had ever seen—eyes wide, lips pursed, and the place where his nose would be (if he had one) scrunched like he had just bitten into a lemon and found a worm inside.

That did it. You doubled over, laughing so hard your knees almost gave out. "What... what is that?" you wheezed, pointing at the picture. "Are they wrestling or trying to summon an ancient god?"

"I-I don't..." Wander started, holding up a finger as if to explain, but his confusion only deepened. He pointed at the image, his voice high-pitched and incredulous. "Why is her leg there? And his arm—it's like a game of Twister gone wrong!"

You were crying now, leaning on the rack for support. "Whoever wrote this definitely failed biology class."

He flipped to another page, his expression cautiously optimistic. "Okay, maybe this one's better." With that he turned the magazine toward you again, revealing a couple attempting something that looked like synchronized swimming on dry land.

"Wander," you choked out, barely able to get the words past your laughter, "that guy's face looks like he's passing a kidney stone."

Wander tilted his head, his Southern drawl creeping in as he observed the photo. "Bless his heart, he does look like he's havin' a real hard time. And her? She's bent up like one of those wire puzzles you can't solve. I feel like I should call an ambulance to help 'em out!" You snorted, clutching your stomach as Wander kept flipping pages, his commentary getting better with each one. "Oh no," he said, stopping on an image of a couple tangled in a position that could only be described as "human pretzel meets trapeze accident." His finger traced the outline of the image. "She looks like she's about to get launched into orbit. And him? That poor fella's face says, 'I made a mistake!'" Tears streamed down your face as you gasped for air, your laughter echoing through the empty store. But he, encouraged by your reaction, turned to another page. "Okay, this one's got promise!" he said, but his enthusiasm died instantly as he stared at the image. He turned it sideways, then upside down, before shaking his head.

"Darlin'," he said, his tone deadly serious, "this isn't romance—it's acrobatics. And not the fun kind. The kind where you sign a waiver first."

You leaned against the rack, completely undone. "Who... who comes up with this? And why?"

Wander flipped to yet another page, his brows furrowing even deeper. "Oh no. Look at this one." He pointed at a couple sprawled across what looked like an inflatable raft, both wearing expressions of vague existential dread. "They look like they've been stranded in the middle of a lake and just realized they forgot the oars. And what's with the raft? Is that supposed to be romantic?" Your laughter reached a new level, almost silent now as you clutched your stomach and tried to breathe. But your partner kept going, flipping pages with the determination of someone trying to find a single shred of logic in a sea of absurdity. "Alright," he said, holding up another photo. "This one... oh no. Oh honey, no. They're doing something called the 'Astro-Spiral.'" He pointed at the picture, his voice full of genuine concern. "That man's neck is at an angle that says, 'I'm gonna need physical therapy.'"

You lost it again, tears streaming down your face as you leaned on him for support, placing your elbow against his head. He patted your back, grinning ear to ear. "Glad I could make my lady laugh," he said, flipping to the last page. "But seriously, we should send these people a gift basket or somethin'. They look like they've been through war!"

You wiped your eyes, still giggling. "Wander, you're so ridiculous."

"And I'm yer ridiculous boyfriend!" he said, winking as he tucked the magazine back into the rack. "But I think we'll stick to our own moves, thank you very much. No pretzels required!"

Then, before you could retort, the bell jingled, signaling the arrival of a customer. 

Your unofficial coworker perked up immediately, spinning on his heel with a grin so wide it looked like his face might split in half. "I got this!" he announced, puffing out his chest and darting toward the door like an overenthusiastic Walmart greeter on their first day. Seeing it, you shook your head, already bracing for the spectacle as you wiped the rest of the tears away. Wander was great at handling customers—if by "handling," you meant traumatizing them into reevaluating their life choices.

The guy who walked in was tall, lanky, and dressed in a long coat that screamed I do questionable things in my spare time. He had an air of nonchalance, his hands tucked in his pockets as he strolled toward the snack aisle without a word.

"Howdy, friend!" Wander chirped, practically skipping alongside him. "Welcome to Blarpee's, where smiles are free and snacks are kinda reasonably priced! Can I interest you in some Thunder Blazz MAX? Or maybe you're more of a Blorpberry Swirlie kinda guy? Ooooh, or how about some moonchips—caramel pretzel's all the rage these days!" The man grunted of course, clearly not in the mood for small talk, but the fuzzball wasn't one to take a hint. He hopped in front of him, walking backward and maintaining eye contact like a high-energy tour guide. "Y'know, our Blorpberry pies just got restocked. They're two-for-one! Perfect for a midnight snack or, uh..." He squinted at the guy's sullen expression. "...a brooding stare into the void?"

You couldn't help but smirk as you grabbed a box of chips from behind the counter. Wander's cheeriness was like a spotlight in a pitch-black cave—it wasn't for everyone, but it sure was entertaining to watch. As the guy muttered something incomprehensible and veered toward the drink section, Wander followed, his voice carrying across the store.

"Don't forget to check out the candy aisle! We've got Astro Chews—they might make you float! Oh, and if you're feeling adventurous, the Galactic Glow Gummies are a real trip! Figuratively. I think."

You carried the box of chips to an aisle, bending over to unpack and stock the shelves. From your position, you could still hear him going full salesman mode, his voice growing increasingly chipper as the guy's responses devolved into irritated grunts. But finally, the man seemed to pick out his items—a Thunder Blazz MAX and a bag of chips—and started toward the register. As he passed your aisle, you barely registered his presence, too focused on lining up the chip bags just right.

And then it happened.

Smack!

You froze, blinking in disbelief as your brain took a moment to catch up.

Did... did that guy just smack your butt?

Wander froze too, mid-sentence, his arms outstretched like he had been about to launch into another sales pitch. His grin stayed plastered on his face, but one of his eyes twitched so violently it looked like it was trying to escape.

The silence that followed was deafening.

You slowly straightened up, glancing over your shoulder to see the guy continuing toward the register like he hadn't just committed a crime against human decency. Your boyfriend, meanwhile, stood rooted to the spot, his frozen grin morphing into something truly terrifying—a cross between a cartoon character about to snap and a rabid squirrel who had just had its nuts stolen. "Uh-oh," you muttered under your breath, stepping back slightly. This was about to get interesting.

Wander's eye twitched again, his hat tilting ominously forward as he finally turned to follow the guy. "Well, now," he said, his voice a little too chipper, "that wasn't very neighborly, was it?"

You smirked, leaning casually against the shelf. "Your move, Captain Blarpee's."

Wander's grin only widened as he snapped his fingers and reached into his hat. You had seen this look before. He was about to become someone else. He pulled out a fake mustache and slapped it on with determination, his expression immediately changing into his Wild Wooly Wander persona.

"Wander," you said slowly, watching him adjust his 'stache like he was preparing for battle. "You know you're about to traumatize him, right?"

"Oh, I sure do," he replied, his Southern drawl suddenly cranked up to eleven as he dramatically adjusted his name tag, turning it from front to back (when he wrote it on the back you had no fricking clue). It read: "WILDER WOOLY WANDER, EMPLOYEE OF THE MONTH (AGAIN!)." He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, his face turning into a scowl, ready to unleash the full force of his persona.

"RRRRAAAAWWWW!" he roared, stomping around like a dinosaur in a thrift store. "YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST SMACK MY LADY'S BUTT AND GET AWAY WITH IT?!"

You watched, half-amused and half-scared for the guy, as Wander stomped toward the customer, the fake villain energy radiating from him like a blast of heat.

The alien, still looking like a reluctant participant in this comedy show, gave him a confused glance, his hand resting on his phone. "Uh... what's your problem, man?"

The fuzzball's expression turned even more ridiculous, eyes narrowing with intense focus. He gave the customer a look as though he were an outlaw, ready to challenge him to a duel over some cosmic misunderstanding. "I'M ABOUT TO SHOW YOU HOW WE HANDLE THINGS 'ROUND HERE," He shouted, slapping his hands together for dramatic effect. "I'LL REPEAT MYSELF: YOU THINK YOU CAN WALTZ IN HERE, SLAP MY LADY ON THE REAR, AND WALK OUTTA HERE LIKE A BIG SHOT?" He roared, his mustache twitching with every syllable.

The customer blinked, clearly unsure if he was dealing with a deranged store employee or if he had been transported into some sort of fever dream. "Uh, look, I didn't mean—"

"DIDN'T MEAN?! WELL, LET ME SHOW YA HOW IT FEELS, PARTNER!" Wander stomped right up to him, his little legs working overtime to build up a truly menacing aura. Before the guy could react, he wound up like a baseball pitcher and delivered a swift, unapologetic SMACK right to the guy's backside. The sound echoed through the store like a firecracker going off in an empty warehouse, even creating a shockwave that made the chips shake, a few of them falling down from the shelves to the ground. "HOW DO YOU LIKE 'EM APPLES?!" He yelled triumphantly, his arms outstretched as if he had just finished the most epic of battles.

Flinching, the alien took a step back, his face contorting into a mix of shock and disbelief. "What the hell?!"

Wander, still in full Wild Wooly mode, growled, pointing a dramatic finger in his face. "CONSIDER THAT A LESSON IN RESPECT, YA NO-GOOD, CHIP-EATIN', SNEAKY-SLAPPIN' VARMINT! THIS IS BLARPEE'S, NOT A CATTLE RANCH! BUT IT AIN'T OVER! NO SIR!" Not waiting for a response, he grabbed the man and lifted him above himself—surprisingly strong for someone who looked like he was made of the coziest fluff—and plopped him onto one of the store's rickety stools. It squeaked and cracked under the weight, the thing barely holding together. The customer, now on the stool, was so tall and big that the seat collapsed beneath him, sending him crashing to the floor in a flurry of dust and confusion. "WELL THEN!" Wander exclaimed, hands on his hips, looking down at the crumpled man like he had just performed a heroic rescue. "YOU'VE GOT A LECTURE COMIN'! A LESSON ON MANNERS—BLORPIE'S STYLE!"

The guy scrambled to his feet, rubbing his rear and looking absolutely lost in this bizarre alternate reality where a random employee was yelling at him like some unhinged cowboy from a bad B-movie. "Man, what's even going on? I just came in to get a soda..."

Your boyfriend wasn't listening, however. He grabbed a bag of chips from a nearby shelf and threw it down in front of the guy like it was some kind of treat. "YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST WALTZ IN HERE AND TOUCH PEOPLE?!" Wander yelled, face dangerously close to the guy's. "THAT'S NOT HOW IT WORKS IN MY STORE, BUSTER. NO ONE TOUCHES MY LADY'S BUTT WITHOUT HER SAY-SO. AND YOU DON'T TOUCH THE BUTT OF A WORKER WITHOUT PAYING THE PRICE!" He leaned in closer, a little too close. "You see, we run a TIGHT SHIP here, friend. And the first rule is—if you slap the merchandise," he gestured to the shelves with a flourish, "you better be ready for a lesson!"

You leaned against the shelf, trying to hide your face behind your hand as you laughed quietly, watching this circus unfold. The alien's expression was pure puzzlement mixed with slight terror, but he was starting to realize that no, this wasn't some kind of prank—it was just Wander. The guy's body language went from defensively confused to straight-up scared.

"I—I didn't mean anything by it, man, sorry!" he said quickly, trying to recover from the awkwardness of the situation.

The acting fuzzball raised an eyebrow. "Didn't mean anything by it? Oh, that's the problem, partner! You thought you could go around slappin' butts without any consequences. That's like thinkin' you can eat a whole bucket of Blorpberry Swirlies without feelin' the sugar crash. It just don't work that way!"

The guy's eyes darted around, unsure of what to do, as Wander continued his wild performance. The absurdity of it all—the Southern drawl, the fake mustache, the bizarre sense of justice—was too much. You couldn't hold back any longer. You burst out laughing as you walked back to the entrence of the store, leaning against the register counter as tears of amusement blurred your vision.

"I'M GONNA MAKE SURE YOU LEARN SOME RESPECT, BOY!" Wander shouted, stomping in a circle like a bad guy in a kids' cartoon. "ARE YOU READY FOR THE WILD WOOLY WANDER WAY?!" He was on fire, as he stomped back and forth, his arms waving dramatically, continuing his tirade in full Wild Wooly Wander persona, his voice booming in all-caps as if he were auditioning for an action movie. "NOW LISTEN HERE, FELLER!" he bellowed, his hat crooked from all the over-the-top gestures. "YOU THINK IT'S ALL FUN AND GAMES, SLAPPIN' BUTTS LIKE YOU'RE SOME KIND OF ROGUE BANANA PEEL?! WELL, I'M GONNA TEACH YOU A LESSON ON RESPECT THAT'LL MAKE YOU WANNA BEND OVER AND APOLOGIZE TO EVERYONE YOU'VE EVER COME ACROSS, FROM THE WORM UNDER YOUR SHOE TO THE GRAVITY-DEFYING PENGUIN YOU MET ON THAT PLANET THAT'S ALL ICE!"

Opening one of the bags of snacks that your partner had bought earlier, you tried your best to keep your composure. A few of the Blorpberry Swirlies crinkled in your hands as you casually glanced at the spectacle unfolding in front of you. Wander, of course, was in full rant mode, throwing his words out like he was delivering the most important speech in the history of the universe.

"SEE, WHAT YOU DID," He yelled, pointing a finger at the guy like he was teaching him the fundamentals of life, "IS ABOUT THE SAME AS THINKIN' YOU CAN JUST WALK INTO A BAR AND ORDER A DRINK WITHOUT KNOWIN' YOUR DAMN LIMITS. IT AIN'T JUST ABOUT WHAT YOU WANT, SON, IT'S ABOUT WHAT'S RIGHT!"

You popped a Swirlie in your mouth, watching the performance with quiet amusement. Of course he was serious about this. No one—NO ONE—touched your fine posterior but him, and even then, it was with full consent.

The furball's eyes narrowed dramatically as he stopped pacing for a moment, his voice dropping to an eerie, ominous growl. "You feel good after that smack from me, huh? Did it feel like a nice little wakeup call for ya?" He sneered at the guy's frozen, stunned expression. "Well, lemme tell ya somethin'. YOU AIN'T GOT NO BUSINESS SLAPPIN' ANYONE'S BUTT LIKE THAT, EVEN IF MY GIRL'S GOT THE NICEST RUMP IN THE ENTIRE GALAXY! THAT'S RESERVED FOR ME AND ONLY ME! AND EVEN THEN, I MAKE SURE IT'S CONSENSUAL, BOY!"

The guy was standing there, looking like he wanted to sink through the floor. He opened his mouth, probably to apologize or explain himself, but Wander wasn't having it.

He pointed at him with a fierce intensity that almost made the shelves shake. "Do you think it feels GOOD for MY LADY to be smacked on her fine behind by some random feller? YOU THINK SHE LIKES THAT? WELL, I CAN TELL YA, IT AIN'T GONNA HAPPEN AGAIN ON MY WATCH!" For emphasis, Wander slammed his hand down on a nearby snack rack, knocking it over in the process. Chips and snacks flew everywhere in a glorious cascade of crisp packets and wrappers. You didn't even flinch, just casually grabbed another snack.

Wander leaned towards you, whispering between breaths, his face contorting in that wild way of his yet a pure softness crossed his features when he watched you. "I'll clean that up later darlin'. But right now, I gotta make sure this feller understands what manners are!"

Then, without warning, he launched back into his full persona. "YOU GOTTA RESPECT WOMEN, YOU HEAR ME?! YOU WANNA BE THE KIND OF FELLER WHO THINKS IT'S OKAY TO DO THAT TO ANYONE?! WELL, LET ME TELL YA SOMETHIN', YOU DON'T GO AROUND SLAPPIN' PEOPLE'S BUTTS LIKE IT'S A SPORT! THIS ISN'T THE GALACTIC OLYMPICS, YOU BOTTOM-LEVEL CLOWN!" His intensity was reaching a level that could only be described as absurdly heroic, like he was starring in an intergalactic Western, only this time the villain wasn't a group of bandits—it was butt slapping. He stomped back and forth, his arms flailing like a windmill in a tornado. "YOU THINK YOU'RE GONNA JUST WALTZ IN HERE, SLAPPIN' MY LADY'S RUMP LIKE IT'S A FLAPJACK AND YOU'RE THE SHORT ORDER COOK?!" he bellowed, each word landing like thunder in a storm of justice. "YOU DON'T TOUCH A WOMAN'S BEHIND LIKE IT'S A FREE-FOR-ALL SALAD BAR, WHERE ANYONE CAN JUST HELP THEMSELVES TO THE FINEST GREENS!"

The customer, still just standing there like the idiot he was, looked like he was caught between wanting to flee and trying to figure out where he had gone wrong in life. He was practically shaking, trying to wrap his brain around the situation as your boyfriend—rightfully so!—continued his verbal rampage.

"YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST WALK IN HERE LIKE A RACCOON WHO FOUND HIMSELF A BAG OF TRASH AND THINK HE CAN EAT IT ALL WITHOUT PAYIN' FOR IT?" Wander's voice reached an almost operatic crescendo, his hand slicing through the air. "YOU THINK YOU'RE GONNA JUST SLAP WHAT YOU WANT, LIKE A BEAR IN A HONEY SHOP?! NO, SIR! YOU DON'T SLAP MY LADY LIKE SHE'S SOME KIND OF CORN ON THE COB, AND YOU'RE JUST TRYING TO TAKE A BITE OUT OF HER!"

You could barely hold it together at this point. Every comparison Wander threw out made it more impossible not to laugh. The way he was delivering each absurd line with such seriousness was everything you loved about him.

He leaned in closer to the confused man, his eyes wide with righteous fury. "YOU WANNA BE THE KIND OF FELLER WHO THINKS IT'S OKAY TO SLAP THE JUICY PEACHES OF THE GALAXY LIKE YOU'RE PLAYIN' A GAME OF WHACK-A-MOLE?! WELL, I GOT NEWS FOR YOU, SIR, THIS AIN'T A CARNIVAL, AND YOU AIN'T WINNING ANY PRIZES TODAY!" Wander's acting had transcended reality at this point—he was practically frothing at the mouth with over-the-top energy. With a final dramatic slam of his fist on the counter, he shouted, "I WANNA KNOW YOU LEARNED YOUR LESSON, 'CAUSE IF I FIND OUT YOU'RE OUT THERE SLAPPIN' ANYONE ELSE'S BUTT—YOU'RE GONNA DEAL WITH ME! AND THAT, MY FRIEND, IS A WHOLE OTHER LEVEL OF TROUBLE!"

Immediately, the customer, eyes wide like he was about to faint, awkwardly fumbled through his wallet, all the while apologizing to you, pulling out a bunch of credits and tossing them on the counter. "Keep the change," he mumbled, practically tripping over his feet as he made his way toward the door that Wander was holding open for him.

And your little fuzzy meneace, never missing a beat, shot out one last parting shot. "YOU THINK YOU CAN SLAP AND DASH?!" he yelled. "THINK AGAIN, PARDNER!" With that he slapped the guy's rear one more time for good measure, and the sound cracked through the store like the shot of a pistol.

"HOW YOU LIKE THEM APPLES, HUH?!" He boomed once more, his voice rattling the shelves as the guy fell onto his face outside the store.

As the door slammed shut behind him, Wander stood there for a solid moment, fists still clenched at his sides, his chest rising and falling like he had just finished running a marathon. His face was red, his wild eyes gleaming with that Wild Wooly Wander fury that only he could pull off. He looked like a cartoon character who had just completed the most epic monologue in the history of monologues. The dramatic pose, the clenched fists, the deep breaths—it was as if he had just taken down the worst villain in the galaxy. You watched him, leaning against the counter with your arms crossed, fighting to contain your laughter. Your cheeks hurt from smiling so much, and the absurdity of it all still hadn't fully hit you. Wander, your boyfriend—this small, goofy, and ridiculously charming guy—had just turned into the most over-the-top, wild bad guy ever. And somehow, it was the funniest thing you had ever seen.

He stood there, still posing like he was about to deliver an encore, his arms rigid, his body practically vibrating with the energy of his performance. But as the final breath escaped him, his stance suddenly faltered. His fists shook at his sides like he was about to launch into another round of action-packed lines, but before he could say anything else, something shifted in his eyes. He looked at you, his gaze softening, and then it happened. Like a light being switched off, the Wild Wooly Wander persona melted away. His face turned switfly, and his hands dropped to his sides. His ridiculous mustache was now completely crooked and hanging on like a sad prop. He blinked a few times, looking absolutely adorable.

You couldn't help it, you rolled your eyes with a smile. So you approached him, bending down slightly to meet him at his level, your hands reaching up to pull the fake mustache off his face. He blinked again, his eyes wide and hopeful as he looked up at you, like a puppy caught in the middle of some very mischievous antics. "That was... something," you said, your voice full of amusement and fondness. "You really went all in, huh?"

Before you could finish your sentence, Wander practically pounced on you, his arms wrapping around your waist in a sudden burst of affection. You weren't even ready for it—one second, you were standing there, and the next, you were holding him in your arms as he nuzzled into your stomach, his head resting right where your stomach met your ribs.

"I was just protectin' ya!" he mumbled against your shirt, his voice filled with that trademark Wander warmth and sweetness. "Did I do good, darlin'? I really tried. I got carried away a little, though, huh?"

You chuckled softly, patting his head as he snuggled closer. "You did great, Wander. I think he's gonna need therapy after that, but you did great."

With that he pulled back just enough to look up at you, his eyes sparkling with that cheerful innocence that always made your heart melt. He smiled, his small frame looking even smaller now that he was buried in your arms, and he placed his hands on your stomach, his head tilting slightly as he leaned against you. "I'm glad you think so," he said softly, his voice a little quieter now, the Wild Wooly Wander persona completely gone. "I just wanna make sure no one messes with ya sugar."

You smiled down at him, your heart swelling with affection. "You don't have to worry about anyone messing with me, Wander. But I do love how much you care."

He grinned up at you, his usual boundless energy making a comeback. "Well, of course I care! You're my lady! Who else would I go around yellin' at random customers for?!" He giggled to himself, still hanging onto you like you were his personal teddy bear. Yet at that you ruffled his fur gently, making him giggle even more. His head was at just the right level—your hands could reach everything easily.

"I'm lucky to have you, Wander," you said, voice low and affectionate.

His eyes brightened as he lifted his head to look at you, a huge smile spreading across his face. "And I'm lucky to have you, darlin'! We make the best team, don't we?"

You chuckled softly, leaning down to kiss his forehead. "The best team."

Wander was ridiculous. He was a handful. But he was your ridiculous handful.

And that made everything perfect.

[souleaterpostanime]

Is your music all digitally composed or is it acoustic and you record? Curious about your process.

I use Ableton Live to mix and compose everything, but depending on the track I use both digital/virtual sounds and real instruments, either recorded through my microphone (connected to an usb interface), electric guitar and bass I sometimes recore directly by connecting through the input cable, and sometimes I just sample random phone recordings I do.

But yeah it depends on the song - like for "Amber Chamber Theme" it was mostly directly recording from a keyboard I had avaible at the moment, then using pitch shifted or otherwise manipulated vocals at some parts.

For "The Gal that fell out of da sun" I just mostly recorded everything with my microphone connected to a preamp and usb interface - so it was all acoustic guitar, vocals and just hitting random things for drums😂. On it I used the Guitarrig plugin to give it the sound of guitar pedals, but I actually like to use that on a lot of shit, can give audio tracks easy effects that sound good atleast to my own ears.

So yeah, dunno if this is coherent or just too rambely, but in short - it depends, but at the end I basically use Ableton either way - I think many years ago I tried Fruity Loops, didnt know what I was doing and quit😂 Then some classmate recomended Ableton and I sticked with that. Maybe I'll try something else in the future.

Oh, and if you ment my process in a more abstract way, like composing or the idea for a song - for the last few tracks it was mostly the idea of fitting with the whole desert/western theme, so I would either noodle with a guitar to find a sound I like, or think of a fitting genre that I could parody that would fit. Sometimes I kinda come up with some lyricsl Idea first but yeah. But other items I just fuck around in Ableton till I see something comes together, that maybe if everyone else thinks sounds horrible, I like😂

And yeah lyrics I'll admit was one factor were I'm kinda lazy on this "project" - sometimes I try to write down some, but mostly I go of the dome and even sometimes mumble in a way with it not even making sense (other times I know I said something but cant make it out anymore, like in the Phonk song I did, but I guess thats the point)

I justify it by saying that the orignal anime had a lot of broken english so its just fitting with the theme😂. But maybe I'm too harsh, some of the lyrics were pretty planned out and do have a lot of consious meaning. Like one of my older songs which was like a parody of one of Ye's tracks from "808's and heartbreaks" were it was supposed to be from Kids perspective in a pathetic emo rap autotune voice lamenting how "now even 8's I hate, two circles with no escape"😱💀

So yeah, dunno, wrote a lot more than anyone probably asked for. Could probably say more, but I'll leave that for other asks.

[blorbfoosh]

Desert Dance

On the other side of the Web, a new story began. Like it always does, when the strings of two Webs Intertwine. A flipped world begins, sands blowing across the desert in waves. Canyons and mesas rise above, painting the scarred landscape with rusty reds, oranges, and browns, twisting and waving in an intricate pattern of rock.

The landscape itself was carved by nature's wonders- Molten lava beds which had long since cooled down over time, creating breathtaking caves, and amazing rock sites. These serve as refuge for those brave souls who traverse the Bad-Lands.

These caves have grown, and now, they even harbor cities and towns. One of these cities is called Stalagmite City, the biggest one all. Placed snug in a cave called El Roseau, this bustling semi-1950's western themed town's been thriving. Even has a big freshwater lake.

But that's not where our story's set, is it? Like what someone once said, 'you've got to get to the canyons to strike gold.' Smaller towns lie outside as well.

One of those.. Is Sterlington. A darling little town situated next to a bridge which stretches over the canyons. This is where our tale begins.

With a stubborn city gal, trying to start anew, and a loyal sheriff, who merely wants to make a friend.

These two, to others, were like oil and water. Our gal surely thinks so herself. But.. Maybe all she had to do was open up. Give friendship another chance. Maybe give love, another chance.

She's already trying, opening her home to two souls. Souls she considered her children. But will that be enough to consider other souls 'friends?'

Our sheriff surely wishes to do so. Ever since day one, he's been poking, prodding, pleading for the tiniest ounce of friendship to this iced-over woman. You can imagine how dumbstruck he felt when all of the blue, a large.. Stuffy broke the walls in five minutes, that he's been wearing down for weeks.

But he's getting somewhere.

Tucking a lock behind her ear, Polaris breathed a sigh as she stared at her creation in slight disappointment. The duck cake was not.. Duck-ying. She didn't have enough fondant to make the beak or coat the legs, and she wasn't even sure if her recipient liked fondant or not. 

At least she's getting practice out of this, she mused. But the fondant... She knows she can make it at home. Time to go out again, she supposed. All Polar really needed were marshmallows and fine sugar. From what she remembered, she needed shortening too. She had butter at home anyway.

Starlo was probably out training Killa, from the sounds of grunting and small explosions to the left. Familiar ears popped out of a sand and shook themself off. She waved at her towering feline stuffy kid, Killa, and he waved back, before dodging a bell attack.

"Focus, Kills! Keep it up, Sparkles! Y'all are doin' great."

She called, swinging her homemade tote bag on her shoulders and walking into town. Just hoped that she didn't bump into anyone on the way, yeah-? Funny how just a few weeks ago she was a silent recluse running from a job. Now, she's still a recluse, but she has a job, new.. Could she even call them friends? ..and a family. Her own.

One she's waited for, maybe even wanted. It felt.. Natural, for her.

She didn't take notice of her surroundings, and soon tripped on the front step of an establishent. Gasping, she flailed, trying to soften her fall-.. But it never came.  Instead, she felt something tugging at the scruff of her blouse, holding her face a few centimeters from the wooden floor. She was lifted up and placed upright, making her tense up and awkwardly brush herself off, before glancing behind her.

oh. shiddles.

With a proud smirk, a certain cocky duck stared down at her, worry seeming to glimmer a bit in those hazel green eyes. Sometimes she saw them stern and serious, eyes straight. Other times, they're bright and full of light and teasing.  And others.. She didn't know. It was so hard to read them. Hard to read him.

Sheriff Vercos Star-Cross.

He stood at a towering height over her, five feet taller at most.  She'd never admit it to him, but he.. He intimidated her. In ways she didn't know were possible. Crouching down to be at her level, he took a visual check on her.

"e y- You alright, miss? That was- heh, quite the drop-"

Polar would snap out of staring. Dammit, she was doing this more and more. what was wrong with her..?

"Yes, Vercos. I'm alright. Just flapped in, did ya?"

He would shrug, raising an wing to his nape, still remaining crouched. The air was full of awkwardness- Especially considering the upcoming events.

"Mm, yea, jus' about finished with my rounds.  The bandit seems to have taken a pit stop, so we're all clear for tomorrow's dance."

There was a dance? She wasn't well accustomed with holidays. Upon seeing her confusion, the duck started to explain.

"Y'see, miss, we have, eh, let's say lil get-togetherz when stuff happens. Like for Thanksgivin', Easter, stuff like that. Valentine's is no difference."

"Different."

"Different, difference. All the same."

Polar would shake her head and sigh, as Vercos stood up again, stretching. She can't blame him, it gets tiring having to crouch just to speak well. She should know- Nursed a lil birb when she was younger.

"And lemme guess, it's extra coupley."

Vercos laughed this time, shaking his head. That surprised her. Stereotypes.. Demolished? She was grateful she moved here more than ever. This town was something special, she could see it now.  This was something she had to protect.

"Nawt at all, miss! We're all friends o'er here in Sterlington. I mean, ya can come with, if- If ya want-..?"

This action stunned her. What was he trying to achieve? Was he trying to strengthen their so-called 'friendship'..?

You thought he was gonna back off after last time? Hell. Nah. If anything, it was like he upped his game-..!

..but if she wants to stay, she needs to put effort into it.

"Miss? Miss, are ya really doin fine-? Ya look pretty, uh, not here."

Polar nodded, trying to analyze the situation. The dance will probably be night, or at least late afternoon when everyone was free. Since tomorrow was a school day, the people have time to fix up the grounds during the day. Others might've already cooked beforehand so all they needed to do was bring it. There's probably events as well. She was about done with puzzles, all she really needed to do was the cake.

..But the event wasn't what she was worried about, it was the intention of the one who asked her. Polaris hasn't been to a dance in.. A while. And the last one she had been to was, heh- Tragic, to say the least.

"Vercos. I'm fine. Just lost in thoughts like you said."

He would nod, bending over to be in her face. As usual, in her space. But why was she not getting irked?

"Well, mind if ya consider my offer?"

"I didn't realize it was an invitation."

"Hey, ya kids might wanna go too, so keep that in mind."

He'd gently nudge her with a small smile, making her involuntarily shiver and roll her eyes. Her children. Yeah.

They were a good excuse to go poke around harmlessly. Plus, she wasn't sure whether Killer had been to a dance before- Considering being cooped up in a creepy underground lab. She still felt shivers from that. ..She was genuinely scared. Concerned. For someone she wasn't that close with.

Feelings. They baffled her, really.

But.. If she kept on pushing them away, then-.. .... Crumbles has been prodding her to try. She's opened her heart. Her home. If she really wanted 'home,' she had to start nesting.

And it started with this.

"..I mean, I've been planning an outing so Killa and Starlo can get.. More aquainted with the fellows here. Guess this could be a start."

Was it just her, or did a small flicker of hope leap in his eyes..? And did his smile just twitch a little wider? That wasn't possible, was it-?

Right?..

It's just having the kids around, yeah. Nothing changes with her and Vercos. He's just the irritating sheriff ducky who hangs around a lot and likes to solve puzzles. Which she made. It's not like anything will happen.

That evening, she finished coating the duck cake in fondant, and was starting on accessories. Painstakingly molding and creasing, every single brush she did precise and calculated. This continued on late into the night, and until early morning as well. She saw the first streaks of light reach up, touching the sky and spreading like watercolors on a paper.

It was well past dawn when she attached the gold sheriff cookie badge to the green fondue poncho. She did it..! A beautiful muscovy duckatrice stood cockily on a rock, poncho lightly swaying in the wind. An oversized brown Stetson hung on his head as his eyes looked forward with a determined sheen. Horns poked out of the Stetson, for more 'duckatrice.' Where tail feathers end, a new tail began, hanging behind him in an arrogant-ish way. She sadly didn't have enough fondant to make the transition to lizard wings, but she supposed this was enough.

She's been working her best. ..but would he like it..?

Shaking the thoughts from her head, she started cleaning up the kitchen, when she heard soft thumps from the living room. A few minutes later, a groggy Killa trudged in, ears flopping side to side like they did when tired. Polar smiled, putting the cake away for later.

"mhhhh... Morning, mum."

He would take a seat at the dining table and lay his head on it, groaning sleepily.

"Good morning, love. How was your sleep?"

"I wish I can go to bed again."

Polar shook her head, going over to pat his head consolingly.

"Wanna know something?"

Killa looked up with interest, rubbing his eye with a big clawed paw. Polar leaned closer with a whisper.

"We're going to a dance later."

Killa sat up straighter, eye glinting with excitement.

"A dance? Later? With people and music and food?"

Polar laughed, giving his lil clownish nose a boop.

"Especially food."

Killa hopped up excitedly from his chair, like he was on a sugar high of some sort.

"I'm gonna go tell Star!"

And with that, Killa went pittering away to tell his bro.

Hours later, the dance was in full swing. The sun had long set by now, and night was upon them. The last of the children had gone to bed. Killa and Starlo included- Albeit it was much of a struggle getting Killa to finally honk out- Starlo was a little stubborn, but he relented still.

Now it was just Polaris and the night. And the faint sound of music and laughter. ..She felt weirdly disappointed, not staying, but-.. She felt awkward. Not.. Not at home. There were too many people, too many eyes. And couples.

She knows Vercos said that all were welcome, but-.. It didn't change anything. She still felt alone. Shivering a bit, she curled up on the back porch swing as she looked up at the open sky. It was beautiful. She couldn't get enough of it- Heck, if she didn't see this every night, she would be depressed! The beauty of the celestial plane.. It made her think. A cool night breeze flowed past her and she shivered again. ayy, she shoulda got a blanket.

But she was way too comfy to leave.

Groaning, she'd scoot closer to one side of the remarkably large swing(Killa loves this place, so she made it to fit anyone) and curl up again. At least she had nothing else to do, yeah-..? Nothing much to worry about tonight. A soft flap of wings sounded above her, but she supposed those were just birds, resting for the night. Renovations went by oddly quickly, and she made the empty, three-room cabin not so small anymore- And best of all, she made it feel like home. Not just to herself, but to others as well. ..or at least, she hoped.

The thought made her warm inside, and she smiled.  Everything was.. Okay. For once. And that feeling wrapped around her like a soft, warm blanket.. With a faint scent of leather, firewood, and.. Was that gunpowder? Blinking awake, she touched the new material draped around her body. A poncho- A lot like h i s-

"You were shivering."

Looking up, she saw a certain duck staring down at her with a soft smile.  ..Well, that explained the flapping. "Oh. Um. Thanks, I guess."

Vercos nodded, the porch swing slowly swaying with the both of them on it.

"I didn't see you at the later dances. Mind tellin' me why didn't you stay, miss?"

And there it was. The questions. Polar sighed, subconsciously wrapping the poncho tighter around her. He stayed, watching the stars in silence. Just waiting.  For her.

"I.. It felt awkward. I haven't danced in a while."

"You're welcome here. You know that."

She did. He knew she did. But yet-.. She didn't feel ready to mingle yet. She was glad her sons did, however.

"I guess I got skittish."

"Ya missed a good whole lot of dances, you know."

Polar chuckled, rolling her eyes.

"I'd rather skip than watch you fumble awkwardly."

"Hey! I look good~"

Vercos wagged his eyebrows(how does that even happen?), pushing his white hair back and leaned close to her with a smirk, preening his feathers like the cocky bird he is. As if he thinks he's attractive.

"Stop, you look ridiculous."

She laughed, pushing him away. This was much more comfortable than earlier. The duck laughed as well, a sound that resembled a quack- Yet smoother. It was unique.

"Ridiculously attractive~?"

"You're insane."

Chuckling, he'd sit straight again.  Silence settled around the duo once more, as they sat, watching the stars. Polar turned to say something, but the words were lost. She couldn't.. Talk to him.

The silence was nice-.. But this was consuming.

"So, you dance?"

"Oh- That. Yeah, I took lessons. Haven't done it in a while."

"Do ya reckon you dance well?"

Where was he going with his chatter? Polar just can't understand the ways of this duckatrice. It compelled her to pick and claw more at his being, to fully understand and read him as easily as he did to her.

"I consider myself decent. And you?"

Vercos shrugged, glancing at her.

"Mista Tuwitler did teach me a bit. Tango, polka, two-step, waltz.. Other stuff too."

"Oh? Interesting. I was taught that too."

"Bet you can't tango as well as I do," Vercos teased. Polar raised a brow. "Are you challenging me to see who's better-.."

She'd lean closer to him with a teasing smirk, which made him tense up and glance around, his eyes shifty, feathers poofing up a bit. That made her feel good, knowing she had an effect on him somehow. Since-.. She couldn't read him that easily.

"Or are you trying to ask me to dance with you, hm?"

Vercos blinked, before grinning back, leaning closer to her as well, getting all up in her space and in her face. Second time today, what a shocker.

"Would ya agree if I said yes, though?"

..WHAT?

Once again, she was stumped by Vercos Star-Cross. Or maybe, you're just overthinking. ..Or maybe that as well.

Leaning back, she stared blankly into nowhere as she tried to process it all, when a talon poked her cheek. She blinked, being met with a giddy Vercos face. Her face fell, and she rolled her eyes.

"You wanna, dontcha, miss?"

"..I'm not gonna answer that."

His teasing grin softened, and he stood up, offering a webbed, taloned hand to her.

"Well then. May I have this dance, milady?"

She stared at him, then his hand, and back at him once more. You only get a chance like this once in a lifetime. Don't screw it up again.

"Oh, screw it. You may."

Vercos's smile widened, and his eyes seemed to light up as Polar stood up, reached for the poncho once more, but thought better of it and place her hand in his-.. He grew smaller. Just for her. Standing at a height of five feet, he grinned up at her, tail feathers wagging like a happy duck. ..He really was happy.

Gently tugging her body to his, he placed his other hand on her shoulder. Blinking, confused, she did the same-.. Cause she felt awkward having to put her hand anywhere else. Laughing softly, Vercos led with a step to the side, Polaris following suit. It went along like so, just dancing in the back to a soundless tune. It felt nice. He spun her around, and she laughed, tilting her head back and slightly tightening her grip on his shoulder. He pulled her back gently, and caught her eyes. Chocolatey brown orbs met hazel green, and she lost sight of everything else. The surroundings faded away.. Leaving just him, dancing with her, in the dark.

[danzinora-switch]

Westworld: What Could Have Been

My friend and I just finished season 4 and so this is my thought dump of a rewrite. Because they had so much potential they could have done with these characters and their themes that just didn’t happen.

Themes Westworld has been exploring: What is Consciousness? What is sentience? What does it mean to be human? What is the true difference between an AI/robot made in a human’s image and the ‘real thing’? Masters vs Servants. Control. Consent. Slavery. Power. How do we rise above our own nature? How can we live together without destroying everything?

My season 4 rewrite:

Point: Delores Abernathy. A version of Delores exists as Charlotte Hale. She is cold, she is controlling, she is cruel. She is everything Delores became over the course of the previous seasons. But something is missing.

Instead of “Christina” we have: TEDDY. He is living in this utopian new world. He’s the one that feels something is ‘off’. He wants to write a sweet story for Olympiad, and not one all about sex and violence. He sees the good, the beauty of this world. Teddy... is also a version of Delores. He is the amalgamation of all her goodness, of all her hope. He represents all the beauty that she sees in others and this world, and everything that is worth protecting and fighting for. Teddy was that for her when he was alive, and so it is his avatar that is manifested where she pools all of her hopes and fragility.

Charlotte Hale talks a lot about transcendence and moving beyond the ‘human body’... but transcendence will come for her once Teddy ‘wakes up’ and they REUNIFY. That is Plot A: Teddy waking up and realizing he is the Good Delores, storyteller of the city, and fighting to be free and whole. Charlotte is Bad Delores, deep down the dark path. The two coming together represents the whole of Delores (and humanity): reconciling with our dark side, embracing our inner child, walking with both to transcend our nature and be our fullest selves.

Plot B: this is not the only way forward. Instead of Nurse/Wife gal being married to Kaleb and raising a daughter, it’s MAEVE. After the events of season 3, they stay together, and (yes, in Blade Runner 2049-fashion) they conceive. It should be an impossibility. And yet, it happened. Frankie is the first true cyborg, both human, and both robot-kind. Maeve leaves to protect Kaleb and Frankie, but can’t stop reaching out for her daughter. When she finally does, Charlotte picks up on her and learns of this miracle and wants to destroy it (because it goes against everything of Our Kind vs Your Kind that she is set to control and destroy). She still wants them both, but Maeve ‘dies’ and Kaleb is captured, at which point he is subjected to experimentations in transplanting a human consciousness into a robot (because seriously? This Frankie child Shouldn’t Exist.). Her fly/parasite plan for controlling the rest of the humans still goes through in the meantime.

Frankie wants to find her mother in the desert, still hoping one day to save her father. She runs into Bernard, who still did his whole Sublime-Simulation thing on how to possibly save humanity and robot-kind. And the answer that he finds is that there are TWO paths, not one.

One path is reuniting Delores with herself - have her come to terms with her darkness and choose the light. To work to fix what she broke, and help all the others come to that same path. This may involve entering the Sublime for robots with multiple versions of themselves. This path is Transcendence.

The other is what Maeve and Kaleb have managed to do: combine both kinds into one new type of being. This could be the next step in evolution for both humankind and robots. This path is Progeny.

Bernard helps Frankie find Maeve and rebuild her. He helps her and the resistance rescue her father, too, but also plants the pieces to wake Teddy up to reunite with Charlotte so that Delores can return.

(Btw, all the faces ‘Teddy’ sees as he’s living and interacting in his simulated world are familiar faces from Westworld’s past).

(I do all this partly because pitting Maeve and Delores against each other has never worked, in my mind. They’re not diametrically opposed forces. They’re two strong women with different goals. So keep their goals different. Sometimes that will bring them into conflict, but it can also keep them together.)

I want Clementine to have more agency. She deserves it after so long. So I want her to help Frankie and the resistance after Maeve and Kaleb are defeated. She has been working as a double agent this whole time: pretending to help Charlotte and William, but secretly helping the free humans and Frankie. She chose her own destiny. (And with her friendship with Maeve, having her help save/raise her daughter I think is very fitting and sweet).

Now, the wrench in the plane: William’s host. The Man in the Black Hat. The Destroyer, the Cockroach. He is the Warning. He is the result when we refuse to change our nature, when we refuse to evolve. He has been down the path of darkness and hurt and suffering for so long, but his cynical worldview and nihilistic outlook will only get him so far: it only gets him death. If you can’t change your nature, if you refuse to change your ways, you get to a point where you can go no further. Charlotte/Bad Delores could so easily be him, so, so corrupted. But she does choose to change and accept herself fully and she transcends forward. William does not. He may be part living in a robot, but that doesn’t mean he’s changed. And so his way will still end in a bullet, in whatever form he takes.

Ending: Maeve, Kaleb, and Frankie are reunited (maybe Kaleb still dies, but after reuniting). Maeve can finally, at long last, raise her daughter, her ACTUAL daughter, not some story created for her. They work with the surviving humans and robots on the way forward, Progeny. Delores is transcended to her whole self, and works on building and protecting Legacy, for both humankind and robot kind. She moves into the Sublime, and works to undo the control imposed on a generation of humans and reuniting multiple versions of Westworld people. She is the historical storyteller. William is dead.

To actually survive, we need to change. Not just our nature, but ourselves. We have to evolve in culture and thought, not just genetics and code. And we need to choose how we evolve, not let someone else choose for us. Freedom is essential.

Westworld: What Could Have Been.

[rockymthorrorshow]

you know, i've been thinking abt creative and artistic pursuits and like. Jobs and shit recently. (working a dead-end customer service job will do that do a gal.) and at the risk of doing my favorite thing, which is belaboring a metaphor, i've also been thinking abt reintroduction of wolves.

see, when they reintroduced wolves to yellowstone national park, it changed the course of the yellowstone river. that's the short version, anyway - the reality is a much longer process of ecological restoration that, for the most part, to my understanding, happened largely on its own. wolves reintroduced = better regulated deer and elk populations through natural predation = increased growth of wetland plants that high desert ungulates like to snack upon = better habitat for beavers and such/more robust plants to hold dirt in place in the face of water in transit = changed course of river. as someone who knows Fuck All about ecology or wildlife biology, i'm probably getting a bunch of that wrong, but it's fun to think abt. wolves changing the course of a river.

(stay with me here, this is the metaphor part.)

i don't think any human being on earth would ascribe such habitat changing effects to one single wolf. that would be silly! it was many wolves, over the course of a number of seasons, in conjunction with many other factors. it's not like the wolves set out to change the course of the river, or regulate the riparian habitat of yellowstone, or even manage the local elk population back to healthy levels. wolves were just Doing What They Do! goin about their days! and it terraformed a whole habitat!

i've wanted to write books since i was little. i'm also not very good at writing! i can string sentences together, i can even manage a pleasing turn of phrase or two, but when it comes to the structural elements that make a book enjoyable to read? pacing, plot structure, character motivation? to say nothing of themes? themes? fuck me, i'm terrible at it! but as i've explored a dozen different career options (archaeologist, paralegal, museum historian, etc.) it's the only thing i can see myself doing as a career in the long term. which, when you know you're not good at something, is a discouraging predicament to be in, let me tell you.

and when you tell people that you want to write books, they always jump to the new york times. "got a bestseller in the works, do you?" they ask, with a wide range of tones between earnest-if-blind-approval and asking-your-five-year-old-niece-if-she's-going-to-the-olympics. and like. not everyone can be a bestseller. for starters, there's a whole discussion about marketing and advance capital and the buy-in of the publishing industrial complex and corporate bookstores because let's face it, if you don't have amazon or b&n or both in your corner from the start it's an uphill slog, but there's also just. the reality of large numbers. only a few are going to hit that list. and that's okay.

as a public historian, you learn to think about the physical reality of archives. certain things get saved. others do not. whether that's because of conscious choices or limited space or the inherent frailty of material objects in the face of time (and don't think digital archives are immune from this, either), archives are more likely than not incomplete. this is especially true of historical publishing, particularly for genre fiction or niche audiences. old comic books get so expensive because they were, in some measure, disposable. same thing with pulp fiction and dime novels and penny dreadfuls and whatever the tiktoks of their day were called for the past three hundred years. even the Highest of Literature of a given era can vanish from view for a myriad of reasons. but behind each and every work that survived, and every work that didn't, there was a person who made that. multiple people, even - someone wrote the script and someone drew and inked the panels and someone colored the panels and a whole host of people brought that 10 cent comic book to a newsstand near your great-uncle Mike's childhood home. someone wrote the novel and someone set the type and someone bound the book that you found in one of those gloriously junky antique shops, tucked between a Better Homes and Gardens cookbook and the fifteenth Nancy Drew #14 that you've seen that day.

there's an inherent drive under capitalism that a company has to beat out the competition at whatever it does, to get in front of the consumer more than anyone else to the point where you have to buy whatever they're selling. and i'm not saying that as creators, marketing is bad. if you don't tell anyone about your stuff, they're never going to read it, and we do, ultimately, create art for the consumption of others just as much as for ourselves. we want people to comment on our fanfics, to keysmash in the tags of the art we post, to compliment the sweater we spent months knitting. we want someone to put our art on the fridge and say it's pretty. that's one of those silly things that makes us human.

but for me? i've found some comfort in the idea that wolves don't have a bestseller list. (see, there's the metaphor.) wolves don't have academy awards for the best elk takedown. they just do what they do, because it's a biological imperative. you don't have to write The Best Sci-Fi Novel Ever. you don't have to painstakingly hand-animate The Best Short Film Every Produced. the things you make can just be things. do your best, sure, but out of respect for yourself and your art form, not out of fear or envy of someone else's work.

i grew up with a saying in fan spaces that boiled down to "two cakes," referencing a cartoon where someone brought a cake to a buffet and found that someone had already brought a more elaborately decorated cake. the second panel is of a different person, looking with delight at the buffet, exclaiming, "holy shit! two cakes!" your work of art doesn't need to be so breathtakingly original and different and exquisitely crafted that it's impossible to create. (caveat: obviously, don't plagiarize someone else's work. it's rude, and you're cheating yourself out of the opportunity to make your own art.) but it's okay to just contribute to the ecosystem. not everything has to be the next Pride and Prejudice, or the next Legend of Zelda. make something that you enjoy, that speaks to the person you are now, in this moment, and share that with people.

your ecosystem will be better for you being there.

[hoofpeet]

Just gals being gals

[acidgems]

◜     *     :     charlie     rowe     .     cis     male     &     he/him     .     trojan     horse     by     sebastian     paul     .     ━━     the     legend     surrounding     london’s     l’academiae     furorum     would     not     be     complete     without     JASPER     WILDER     .     the     academy's     TWENTY     FOUR     year     old     TECH     SUPPORT     has     been     with     furore     for     two     years     ,     oft     described     as     RAMBUNCTIOUS     ,     JADED     ,     CHAOTIC     ,     CHEEKY     &     has     proved     utterly     indispensable     to     the     company.     in     passing     ,     they’ve     come     to     be     associated     with     THE     SCENT     OF     SIPHON     GASOLINE     DRIPPING     FROM     A     SPLIT     LIPPED     SMILE     &     driving     splinters     out     of     mud-splattered     palms,     fresh     bolognese     sauce     stains     on     fraying     denim     cuffs     ,     icing     bruising     skin     against     the     condensation     on     bus     windows,     chalk     graffiti     imitating     the     once     grandeur     of     banksy     ,     numb     teeth     from     super     sonic     headphone     use     .     whether     this     will     be     their     final     curtain     call     is     anyone's     guess     &     the     company’s     worst     nightmare     .

HELO SEXY CITIZENS! it is i pand (28) emerged from my self imposed exile a fresh n happy new gal 🤪🤪 i’ve not done groups or shite in like years so... teefy grins cowabunga boys let’s do this ! i lov an unnecessary elipsis and exclamation marks is like me family... thts all u rly need to know abt me i’m quite easy going :B

history

back from my salmon :) (if u keep reading thisll all mke sense hoo hoo hee) ok where were we ah yes his Histoire ok cracks knucky knucks. 

grew up in yorkshire then moved to south london *top boy theme song* when their no good papa deserted them bcs he’s also a big fuckup who has no sense of commitment or attachment to his family. so jasper, ignoring all facts that his dad will not return bcs he’s an idiot, “temporarily” helps his single overworked mum out by working as a techie whilst secretly moonlighting as a low level car thief in the grimey underworld of london. gone in sixty seconds ws his fave movie as a kid n will probs be the death of him bt my god... can he do a good nicholas cage impression.

jasper is one half of jasper and scout his eVIL TWIN! just kidding she’s nai’s blessed creation so i cnt rly go off bat here but their family puts the fun in dysFUNctional. luca is the oldest sibling who’s currently in jail for gbh but jasper will go to his grave defending him n the entire situation if u bring it up after a few pints... his big brother is his Mona Lisa of ppl like he’s just bow down n hero worship the badassery bt rly he’s just idolising a selfish scumbag who offers nothing to society n so remains locked away causing a ruckus behind bars. obv jasper does NT see this... a common theme with my Boy is... he sees what he wants... n wears horse blinders for the rest. then bethan is the next in line n she has a bunch of kids with a deadbeat who jasper always threatens to throw off a motorway bt he never does. loves a good word... bt does he back it up? nah, not his style Baby! He’s a violent poet! a romantic maniac! but not a realist dnt come at him with tht shite or he’ll get bored n go steal a car to entertain himself. THEN WE HAVE SCOUT -- a dandelion w legs and arms, all angry spirit and dungarees and they have a love/hate relationship ie jasper loves her bt she hates a lot of wt he does n thinks he’s just a stinky boy w no hope or manners n tbh? Tea.

so thts the siblings his mum is a single mum n they get along great she doesn’t see the shitty side of jasper n there is a mile of it so idk how bt they love making homemade spaghetti bolognese frm his gran’s tattered recipe together n singing in the kitchen and jasper probs does lil jazz numbers for her bcs frankly he adores her n thinks she’s a strong brilliant woman which she is... n he adores all his family actually jasper is a fiercely loyal bloke n will throw fists to reinforce tht... n also to feel like a powerful Alpha male bcs he’s a lil problematical that way :/. 

relationship n romance wise........ bites fist.........here we go. ok so he had a longterm girlfriend. (longterm to jasper is measured in weeks). bt he cheated on her many times n one noteable time ws a threesome including her best friend n her sister. it’s number one on his long list of sins that will lead him to hell. u might ask... my god... why would they do that... well... jasper defies logic my friends. he actually defines tht whole palav as an iconic memory bt scout once heard him gloating abt it n smacked him so hard on the back of the head he felt concussed

so yah jasper has been working as a tech support for a couple years but doesn’t rly take his job seriously he likes the close proximity to all the dancers bcs he’s a whore w an appetite fr debauchery n also perhaps likes his job bcs he has hidden tap dancing talents n hopes to dip his toe in the world of dance perhaps. or does he. tune in next time fr the big reveal!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

personality

frankly owning the dance floor viciously squat dancing when requested throat goat kim petras blasts frm the club speakers probs wearing a pair of vintage glasses shaped like glittery stars which he raises up n down to wink at ppl he thinks r impressed.... bt why wouldn’t u be... THE BOY IS TALENTED AND HAS FANTASTIC LEGS !

loving his mum the absolute light of his life (as well as his cynic of a twin scout bt like... he’s considerably less vocal abt tht bcs she’s mostly horrified by him and his selfish playboy lifestyle 98.76% the time). this ofc doesn’t deter frm the fact tht he’s only but a few please and thankyou’s away from pure hooliganism... and should carry a warning sign like a tag around his neck. shaun of the dead mum: He’s a bit... bitey   

on one hand rite.........jasper is a cesspit of toxic masculinity bt tbh he also doesn’t rly care abt all that noise.... depends on his mood u see he’s ever fluctuating. loves a mimosa with silly straws n cocktail umbrellas bt also counts the notches on his bedpost w a sense of pride only known to a rowdy adolescent male. locker room talk? bang on. a real Out with The bOys kinda bloke... but maybe less insufferable who knows u decide

i have to go cook some salmon so thts it tbh... thanks fr reading

[katierosefun]

i originally had a september wrap-up post queued but then tumblr fucking ate it, which made me very angry because i didn’t want to re-type the whole thing, but i’m procrastinating, so here i am, re-typing the whole thing of all the things i watched/consumed over the month of september, even if it’s a little late: (it’s fine, i didn’t watch a whole ton of stuff except...a lot of kdramas lmao. oh, and visions.) 

k-dramas: 

beyond evil 

okay, so i think this has been on my rec list for literally forever now, but...besties, i’m on my fifth watch of this goddamn show in the span of maybe two months, so if that doesn’t tell you how much this show has been a comfort/eating my brain lately, idk what will. 

i literally never shut up about this show, but if you’ve somehow been missing from my blog for a little bit, a quick summary: lee dong sik (played by the ever-wonderful shin ha kyun) was accused of murder + kidnapping a few young women, including his own twin sister 20 years ago. he’s lived a pretty quiet life on his own, and now 20 years later, his whole world is turned upside down again when hotshot new inspector han joo won (played by the talented yeo jin goo) comes into this little town. when the murders start up again, these two are thrown into a hellishly complex mystery. will throw you in for a hellish loop. i think my thoughts best summarize this show as come for the murder mystery, stay for whatever the hell joo won and dong sik have. 

okay, but all joking aside about how much i love joo won and dong sik (because...i truly do love them), this show was incredibly healing. once again: this show has quickly become a comfort show, basically to the point where i just watch it whenever i feel down (which happens to be a lot these days). idk man. humans aren’t meant to carry burdens on their own and all that stuff. sometimes u just need to remind yourself that. 

the crowned clown 

so, after watching beyond evil the fourth time, i realized that maybe i wanted to watch some of the actors’ other works. that was how i found myself watching the crowned clown, which...is an excellent kdrama now available on netflix (also on viki for free, just as beyond evil is). honestly, it’s been a hot second since i’ve watched historical dramas (saeguks), so i was a little unsure what to expect, but this show. bro. this show reminded me just how much i love historical dramas, because the court politics? the costumes? the music? the acting? fantastic. 

basically, this show is about the young clown (ie. performer) ha seon (played by yeo jin goo) who now has to replace the king, who might be like...two seconds away from snapping (if he hasn’t already). the reason they’re able to do this is because they look exactly identical despite not being related. 

this story is honestly wonderful. i loved it, and it’s an interesting way to look at the story behind the actual king (because. apparently this king was a real person, and i think his story has inspired quite a few other korean movies/shows). i thought yeo jin goo was brilliant in this show, and it’s really no surprise he became the youngest person ever nominated for a baeksang award because of this series. i was truly blown away by just how versatile he proved to be of an actor, and his dynamics with the other characters (the queen, the secretary being my fave, as well as the old eunuch jo), i just...bro. i’ll admit i wasn’t the biggest fan of the romance (don’t get me wrong! it was sweet!), but i think that might have been because this was so court politics heavy, and i adored it for that. if you’ve never watched a historical drama but want to and just don’t know where to start, i highly recommend this. 

d.p. 

bro....this show was dark. i watched it all in 2 days (pretty easy to do, considering it’s 6 episodes and maybe 40-50 minutes long per episode), and i needed to lie down. this is just one of those shows that i feel is...very important to watch, even if the content matter isn’t very bright. 

basically, dp is about two deserter pursuit officers: ahn jun ho (played by jung hae in) and han ho yul (played by koo kyo hwan). deserter pursuit officers are basically people who chase after people who deserted their military post--and for those who don’t know, being in the military is mandatory for men in south korea. this is the result of the armistice between the north and the south--basically, since north korea never agreed to an actual peace treaty, south korea is constantly under threat of war, which is why men need to serve at least a few years. (this is why a lot of actors + kpop band members often take breaks from their careers--to fulfill their military service time. because yup, even celebrities aren’t exempt from service!) 

anyways, this show really doesn’t pull back their punches. major trigger warnings for things like intense harrassment, suicide, domestic violence...it really does capture just how dark life can be, and also how toxic the military can be for men. because of that, i felt this show was incredibly well-crafted, incredibly nuanced, and in the end, i just felt sad. that said though, there was a hopeful ending, and i’m glad that this show was renewed for a second season, as i think this show is just...really important. 

squid game 

okay, so i don’t want to be that person, but your girl was watching squid game right after it came out, so i was here before the hype train--but okay, okay, i digress. (i am glad that this show is getting hype. i feel it’s very important that people watch this show.) 

if you haven’t noticed how squid game’s climbed to #1 on netflix worldwide (i think, anyways), well, then...buddy. squid game is about a bunch of people who have the chance to earn lots of money by playing what seems like innocent children’s games. (spoilers: they are far from innocent.) 

this show scarred me, to be honest. i needed to watch something lighthearted after this, just because it was so intense. lots of trigger warnings for blood and gore, as well as just. losing faith in humanity. but also, like dp, i felt this show was necessary. it was incredibly well-constructed in that it showed just what desperate people will do in order to survive, as well as exactly what a terrible capitalistic society will do to the working class. it’s depressing and sad, but also incredibly chilling because like. you can’t help but watch the characters and think, but would i do the same thing? i just want to pay off my own debt and take care of my family. wouldn’t i do the same thing? 

i won’t say more of this show for fear of spoilers, but. let me just say. that i really am glad this show exists. i hope people actually notice what the fuck it’s saying about our current system too, because hm, maybe i just want to suck the fun out of things, but there’s something very disturbing about how people are already cute-ifying this show (ie. “this is what i would wear to the squid games! :D” and “look at these squid-game inspired cookies! :D”, as if this show didn’t just deliver a heart-crushing message about capitalism + how the wealthy fuck over anyone who isn’t the 1% BUT ANYWAYS) 

tv 

star wars: visions 

lately i’ve been feeling weird about star wars for lots of different reasons which i don’t particularly feel like addressing today, but. visions really reminded me why i fell in love with star wars in the first place. i think for starters, well. it’s no surprise when i say that i felt an intense amount of joy of seeing east asian cultures so beautifully incorporated and respected in this show (no surprise seeing that this show was literally crafted by japanese anime studios), but like. it really was. a beautiful thing. i cried at least once per episode, either because i was so in awe of the animation and the themes or because i was just in awe that this thing exists. 

i think my favorite episode had to be the village bride--there was something so incredibly powerful about seeing someone who looked a bit like me say i am a jedi. what an iconic line. what an iconic story about a sad traumatized gal deciding to step up and fight, actually. peak star wars. 

but besides all that...i really did feel like...this show captured the beauty and essence of what makes star wars actually good. the themes of good versus evil, a lot of stuff between siblings (bro....the twins and lop and ocho FUCKED ME UP), choosing to have brighter and better days ahead (the village bride, the ninth jedi, the duel, tatooine rhapsody)...like, i really loved how each episode really took everything that was good about star wars and just turned it into something even more beautiful. this series will stay with me for a long time, i think--and i am very grateful for the people involved in this project for reminding me why i fell in love with this universe in the first place. :”)

[wigwurq]

WIG REVIEW: THE UNDOING

You guys. Remember that time I said I was going to try to watch new movie releases and do more wig reviews in preparation for the weirdest Oscar season ever? Well instead I watched a lot of prestige TV. So. Here we are! Movies be damned, there are a lot of tv shows with women in bad red wigs and I watched them! The Undoing is one of those shows. Having already suffered through two whole seasons of Nicole Kidman in another David E. Kelley prestige HBO show (AND THE HORROR OF HER WIGS!) I wasn’t sure if I could stomach another one, but you guys - this one is TOTALLY DIFFERENT. It’s in NYC and her wig is curly not straight!!! Let’s discuss (and a whole lot more!) I will be going episode by episode...

Episode 1: The Undoing

First off, I love that this episode name is just the same name as the show. I can already tell we are in for some real creativity with this show! Anyway, we meet Nicole Kidman who probably has a character name but who cares! She is super rich and married to Hugh Grant which I absolutely love as a fan of the Paddington movies - she is the villain in the first one and he is in the second - and this show already feels like a villain supergroup movie because I definitely hate both of them. They’re both doctors, their palatial house looks like a magazine, and they have a seemingly well adjusted tween who doesn’t look like either of them (but he is the kid actor from A Quiet Place and Ford v Ferrari so ok I guess he can act?) Their one problem is that said kid wants a dog but they can’t have one because Nicole Kidman tells the kid that Hugh Grant once accidentally allowed his family dog to run into traffic and his family blamed him and that definitely sounds like a lie! A big little lie!!!

Speaking of which, Nicole Kidman’s wig. As we know from my harrowing journey through her Big Little Lies wig, David E. Kelley likes her as a redhead and I hate all her wigs. This wig harkens back to the 90s when she was still a scientologist and didn’t wear wigs all the time (what a different time!) Unlike back then, Kidman now has a new terrifying face to match her terrifying wigs. Truly, I don’t know what plastic surgeon she pissed off but her mouth is in a constant Joker grin and she is barely able to move parts of her face anymore? The wig is a tangled mess but the true horror is the seamwork - the part is from places not real and also imagined and the texture is something close to a Halloween fright wig.

Which brings me to the real theme of this show: Nicole Kidman’s addiction to midweight duster coats. She owns them all, y’all. We first see her in this green velvet number which looks like a robe, spans no seasons, and also carries you nowhere. BUT paired with this red curly mess, it does look like she is paying homage to Bette Midler in Hocus Pocus, and for that I say: amen. And also: PLEASE PUT A HEX ON THIS ENTIRE SHOW PLEASE.

Now to the plot??? Nicole Kidman sends her kid to a fancy schmancy private school and she is on some fundraiser committee with her only gal pal, Lily Rabe (praise be!) plus some other harpies that definitely won’t matter to the rest of this show at all. Also present is a new interloper of indeterminate ethnicity who has the audacity to be young, attractive, bearing curly hair WITHOUT a wig, and a small child who she has to feed from her own perfect bosom. THE HARPIES ARE SO PISSED BY BREASTFEEDING Y’ALL.

Anyway, this interloper chick is definitely weird and shows up at Nicole Kidman’s gym (where she does rigorous foot pointing exercises and somehow tames her wig back, kind of). The chick approaches Kidman in the buff with a combination of aggressiveness and openness that makes Nicole Kidman really uncomfortable though I definitely choose to believe that she’s mainly intimidated by bitch’s non-wigged hair.

Fast forward to the school fundraiser where Nicole Kidman switches up her midweight duster coat obsession for a friggin cape IF YOU CAN EVEN and all the harpies are present in their best dresses which could all definitely be worn to the Golden Globes and somehow the interloper is there also in a gown. HOW DARE SHE! THE HARPIES ARE PISSED! So is the vile Donald Sutherland (Nicole Kidman’s dad who just HATES Hugh Grant for reasons unknown). 

But Hugh Grant leaves for a medical conference just as....dun dun dun....the interloper is murdered!!! ALSO NICOLE KIDMAN CAN’T REACH HUGH GRANT. Also he left his cellphone in a random junk drawer! I refuse to believe this magazine apartment has a junk drawer! Kidman’s wig magically stays halfway up without use of pins or elastics because that is just how horrifying this wig is! This show is so stupid!

Episode 2: The Missing

So Hugh Grant is fully on the lam and mainly NOT at that medical conference which may or may no exist but Nicole Kidman is not interested in googling it and that hot interloper remains to be murdered. Also Nicole Kidman’s wig is still a tangle of complete and utter nonsense AS IS THIS SHOW. Also this wig has two settings: dried out desert or oily sweat lodge. This episode starts on sweat lodge. Anyway, Nicole Kidman goes looking around for Hugh Grant and only finds more questions at his hospital and then goes to her job where she is kind of an ineffectual couples counselor. Also David E Kelley/Nicole Kidman prestige HBO shows I guess always require some couples counseling that is highly questionable.

ANYWAY! I forgot to mention that the lead investigator in this murder is Edgar Ramirez who is hot but also kind of shifty. He starts questioning Nicole Kidman about all kinds of crap involving Hugh Grant and then lays down some hard truths: HUGH GRANT SUCKS!!! He got fired from his hospital job curing children’s cancer after he got too close to one of his patients’ moms and DUH IT’S THE HOT INTERLOPER. Nicole Kidman has to gather a calming circle of midweight duster coats to even deal with this new development. 

I really love that Hugh Grant is basically just starring as himself in the mid 90s (REMEMBER DIVINE BROWN?) and I’m kind of here for it. Regardless, Hugh Grant is now the prime suspect in this whole mess and Nicole Kidman’s beautiful magazine apartment is now being completely pulled apart and all she can do is look at her terrifying face and touch it with her terrifying talons and pack up all her midweight duster coats and get the eff out of there. BUT TO WHERE?! 

DUH NICOLE KIDMAN OWNS A BEACH HOUSE OBVS. So she drives out there and is somehow able to braid her damn wig! HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE. THE WIG IS VERY UPSET ABOUT IT AS AM I. She and her tangled tiny braid (she has so much hair in that wig - why is the braid so small??) stare out into the ocean a lot and ignore her child. Also new coat alert and this one is PLAID!!!

And then Hugh Grant shows up and is super creepy and chokey. He tries to explain his actions and confirms his affair with hot interloper which is basically just all a plot synopsis of Fatal Attraction but says that he definitely did NOT murder her. WE SHALL SEE ABOUT THAT. Nicole Kidman calls 911 anyway. 

Episode 3: Do No Harm

OMG GUYS THIS EPISODE STARTS WITH EDGAR RAMIREZ SHOWING UP AT NICOLE KIDMAN’S BEACH HOUSE IN A HELICOPTER. How much money is the NYPD really willing to spend on Hugh Grant? All of it? Anyway, Hugh Grant ends up in jail (which is not as fabulous as his prison time in Paddington 2) and we find out that he fathered that baby the hot (murdered) interloper had and willfully breastfed in front of those harpies in episode 1. THIS SHOW IS WILD AND ALSO STUPID.

Speaking of wild and stupid, Nicole Kidman visits Hugh Grant at Rikers and we are led to believe that Rikers Island has a COAT CHECK?!?!?! Look: she shows up in one of her millions of midweight duster coats and in the visiting room she has none. ARE YOU KIDDING ME, SHOW?!?!?! THIS ALSO HAPPENS TWICE BECAUSE THEY CHECK BOTH HER AND HER SON’S COATS THE SECOND TIME WHAT.

Hugh Grant maintains his innocence and somehow Nicole Kidman’s bent ass wig is convinced and they hire a fabulous defense lawyer which the vile Donald Sutherland is none too thrilled about paying for and spends lots of quiet time at the Frick Museum about it also WTF show you’re willing to pay for the Frick and not frickin wigs. Also Nicole Kidman is confronted by the hot interloper’s husband and it does not go over well. No social interactions in this show make any sense, also.

In the end, Nicole Kidman gets ANOTHER midweight duster coat, Edgar Ramirez questions Nicole Kidman AGAIN but this time with video surveillance footage of her walking outside the hot interlopers studio...the night she was murdered and YES IN THAT DAMN CAPE. WAIT WHAT?! Also even in surveillance footage, Nicole Kidman’s wig is a mess.

Episode 4: See No Evil

This episode introduces the idea that Nicole Kidman really likes taking walks. Long walks, nighttime walks, sleepwalks? Nobody knows, especially Nicole Kidman. When asked why she was walking near the murdered interloper’s studio, Nicole Kidman just kinda shrugs and says “I take walks!” AND EVERYONE BELIEVES HER!!! WTF IS THIS SHOW. It should be noted that this long walks are taken in her usual midweight duster coats (WHICH ARE SUBTLY DIFFERENT COLORS AND FABRICS FROM OTHER MIDWEIGHT DUSTER COATS SHE OWNS) and very not sensible boots. Her walks can last between 10 minutes and 10 hours and who is to say where she even goes and who she is followed by? Maybe the interloper’s husband follows her around or maybe it’s in her head? Maybe she murdered the interloper and didn’t quite remember it? Regardless: it’s a lot of walking and it is EXHAUSTING for us all and finally Nicole Kidman just passes out in Central Park after minutes or hours of walking around and a bunch of kids form a literal calming circle around her and my eyes rolled into the reservoir.

This episode is also all about money, hunny! Nicole Kidman has a lot of it - so much that it was revealed in the last episode she didn’t even notice that a lot of it was missing from that time Hugh Grant lost his job and didn’t tell anyone for a few months except the vile Donald Sutherland who loaned him $500K AND NO ONE KNOWS WHERE THAT MONEY WENT!!!! Well I hope you kept your check book out, Donald Sutherland because now you need to pay $2 MILLION DOLLARS to get Hugh Grant out of jail. Ok? OK. ALSO DO YOU JUST OWN THE FRICK MUSEUM????

So now Hugh Grant just lives in his old magazine apartment which has somehow returned to magazine status after Edgar Ramirez and a thousand cops completely ransacked it. Also now Nicole Kidman and the son live at the vile Donald Sutherland’s house so all is...well? Well no not really because Nicole Kidman STILL HAS THAT DAMN WIG. 

AND THAT ISN’T EVEN THE MOST HORRIFYING PART OF THIS EPISODE! That came when Hugh Grant, now free from jail and left to his own devices, visits the interloper’s widow and children! WHAT IS HE DOING!! Somehow, interloper’s husband lets Hugh in and lets him hold the baby which he fathered. AND THEN HUGH REVEALS HE’S MET THIS BABY BEFORE AND OFFERS TO TAKE CARE OF IT! WHILST ON TRIAL FOR MURDER! THIS SHOW!!!!!

Episode 5: Trial by Fury

WHAT IS EVEN DONALD SUTHERLAND’S APARTMENT?!?! It has a balcony, and it seems to have a balcony cover because no one gets wet when they go out on the balcony and it’s raining. Rich people really live in a different climate zone than the rest of us garbage people. Regardless, Nicole Kidman’s frizzy wig is at PEAK FRIZZINESS on this balcony.

Anyway, the trial of the goddamned century is finally here!! And Nicole Kidman’s wig part still remains an elusive mystery. What is being kept in there? NO ONE CAN SEE ACTUAL SCALP OR ANSWERS. Another question: why did everyone bring their kids to the trial where they could see very upsetting pictures (that I didn’t even look at!) of the murdered interloper. CHILD ABUSE! ALSO! WOULD EVERY SINGLE GODDAMNED CABLE NEWS NETWORK REALLY COVER THIS CASE SO CLOSELY??? I guess it’s not an election year in this alternate reality.

Which makes this scene where the whole family dines out and no one bothers them at all the more improbable. Also completely insane? At one point, Hugh Grant just storms out of the dinner and into the bar area of the restaurant (omg remember restaurants?) and Nicole Kidman follows him there and they have a very intense conversation about family secrets literally in the entrance of a busy restaurant. WHAT REALITY IS THIS SHOW IN?!?!?! The family secret? Remember that time Nicole Kidman told their son that he couldn’t have a dog because Hugh Grant accidentally killed his family dog? IT WASN’T A DOG IT WAS HIS 4 YEAR OLD SISTER. WHAT IN THE DAMN HELL!!!!

Nicole Kidman attempts to corroborate this insane story that she has never ever heard before with Hugh Grant’s family who don’t return her calls but do facetime her out of the blue in the middle of the night. Sure! And who is Hugh Grant’s mom? TONY AWARD WINNING ACTRESS ROSEMARY GODDAMNED HARRIS. WHAT. Not only does she confirm that Hugh Grant definitely accidentally killed his sister, but he also was never ever upset by it! Sure looks like Hugh Grant is a sociopath! MMkay!

Oh and then in the final moments of this episode Nicole Kidman finds the murder weapon - a sculpting hammer - in her son’s violin case. THIS SHOW IS A FRIGGIN LUNATIC.

Episode 6 - The Bloody Truth

So at this point in this show, I have fully gone. I don’t even know what is real or fantasy at this point: all I know is that Nicole Kidman’s wig is my nightmare. ALSO! She has a new midweight duster coat and it is the absolute most outrageous - a silk embroidered number you can literally wear NOWHERE EXCEPT FOR THE MURDER TRIAL OF HUGH GRANT.

The main concern in this episode is how Nicole Kidman’s son happened to get ahold of the murder weapon. So he just found it....in the beach house fire pit?!?!?! WHAT A DUMB PLACE TO PUT A MURDER WEAPON WHEN YOU HAVE AN OCEAN INCHES AWAY TO FLING IT INTO! Even dumber: this show wants you to believe that this 12 year old kid would have the wherewithall to put this murder weapon through the dishwasher - TWICE!! Vulture and I both say NAH to that. 

Anyway, Nicole Kidman’s wig which is somehow pushed back with clips unknown spends a lot of time in a robe (or a coat? WHO KNOWS AT THIS POINT) making secret phone calls to Lily Rabe (who I am happy is back because she’s kind of the only fun part of this show). WHAT IS NICOLE KIDMAN UP TO?!?!?!

Much like Big Little Lies season 2, it all comes down to Nicole Kidman taking the stand. BORING! Hugh Grant is all but gonna win this thing and then Nicole Kidman gets up there and totally backs him up...until she is cross examined by the prosecuting attorney (WHO IS OLD PALS WITH LILY RABE) and magically knows all about Rosemarry Harris’s facetime! Now everyone knows that Hugh Grant is a child murderer and sociopath! AND HE IS PISSED!

The final sequence of this show is just far too insane to even fathom BUT basically before definitely being found guilty, Hugh Grant texts his son and they meet for breakfast but then breakfast turns into a car chase upstate! It is never explained how Nicole Kidman would allow her son out of her sight OR how Hugh Grant wouldn’t already be tailed by cops but whatever! Also not explained: how Nicole Kidman is able to issue an Amber alert for her kid and then get into a GODDAMNED HELICOPTER and follow Hugh Grant north and then land on the very bridge he’s about to jump off of but WHO CARES!! THIS WHOLE SHOW IS WHO CARES BECAUSE IT TURNS OUT HUGH GRANT WAS THE MURDERER ALL ALONG JUST LIKE WE THOUGHT IN EPISODE 1 AND EVERYTHING ELSE HAS JUST BEEN A MIDWEIGHT DUSTER COAT FASHION SHOW!!! ALSO THE WIG SUCKED! GOODBYE YOU TERRIBLE STUPID SHOW! 

Verdict: Doesn’t Wurq

[xantchaslegacy]

MtG Characters as TMA Avatars

The Desolation: Lady Orca

Made out of molten tar. Spends every on-screen moment in the novels burning stuff or expressing an excitement for burning stuff. Hates pretty much everyone. She’s Jude Perry if Jude was seventy feet tall.

The Slaughter:

Massacre Girl (Honorable Mention)

We have so little lore on this wacky gal, but her brand is so strongly the Slaughter that she’d probably be my top pick if not for this entity’s strong affinity for music, which means my actual selection for this slot is:

Crovax

He massacres, he slays, and he loves doing it. Most importantly, he made a huge piano out of screaming people. This is slaughter boy.

The Spiral: Kozilek

Feels like a bit of a cop-out to name an eldrazi for any of these, but Kozilek is too perfect of a fit here, IMHO. Twisting perception, making your surroundings untrustworthy, and generally turning reality into a lie is exactly ol’ Cosi’s bread and butter.

The Web: Thantiss

There are a few characters I was tempted to put here. The weaver king for one, but there’s not really a good picture of him. Emrakul is a pretty perfect manipulator, and one whose schemes we still haven’t seen the full extent of, but I didn’t want to list multiple eldrazi.

Thantiss fits the web nicely in their place, for the obvious literal spider reasons, but also because she does manipulate the emotions of other creatures with her mind-magic to create the conflict she feeds on.

The Eye: Dovin Baan

An advocate for and master implementer of surveillance systems on multiple planes, and one of the individuals (formerly) best equipped to make use of the power to see all.

The Hunt:

Gull and Greensleeves (Honorable Mention)

By the time we get to Final Sacrifice, these two (and their not-inconsiderable forces) have become apex hunters and subduers of wizards. They’re not quite as condensed an example of hunter energy as some others in MtG lore, and their activities are limited to Dominaria, which is why my top pic is:

Garruk

There’s a few good contenders for this title, but few characters combine(d) the aesthetic of the hunter with the feral energy and quarry-seeking desperation that Garruk pulled off during his time under the Chain Veil’s sway. Bonus avatar points for having been cursed.

The Dark: Elspeth

The sun’s nemesis. What more could you ask for? ;)

The Vast: Serra

Mostly an aesthetic nomination. Mostly because whole floating field look of Serra’s realm evokes the energy of the vast better than most other planes. Also I really like the vast because their avatars are the most relatably enthusiastic about their patron.

The Buried:

Hazezon (Honorable Mention)

Gets buried points for casting the high-level spell that literally buried Johan’s army and an entire city in desert sands, but it’s not quite defining enough of a characteristic (I know, sand tokens), plus he’s a tad too well-adjusted to be an avatar. The real contender, I think, is:

Braids

Bear with me. As a dementia caster, she’s already primed to be a fear-powered powerhouse. And since her semi-ambiguous death involved getting entombed under the earth, we have the perfect incubation setup for a buried avatar.

The Flesh: Memnarch

A bit of an iffy choice, since Memnarch spends a lot of time and energy fighting against the mycosynth that transmutes metal to flesh (and vice-versa), but he’s so immersed in, consumed by, and defined by that struggle and his own transformation into meat that I think he fits the bill.

(Note: Memnarch is probs a good contender for the Eye as well, but that’s more his means than his fixation)

The Extinction: Yawgmoth

Another perfect fit, imo. Brought death to whole societies, then whole planes, and supplanted life on a staggering scale with the phyrexians. His horrific work continues to replace entire civilizations with the compleat to this day.

The Corruption: Jarad

There’s lots of buggy folk in MtG (Xira 2 and Kei come to mind), but I like Jarad for the corruption because he checks a lot of boxes. Communicates with and controls a large range of insects. Family man (sorta). Really into the insect aesthetic. Underwent a transformation to become the lich lord of a whole guild with a major focus on fungus and creepy-crawlies.

The Stranger: Halfdane

Able to look like anyone? Check

Delights in replacing and tormenting others? Check

Giggling, sadistic and unhinged? Check

The Lonely: Ugin

No friends, few confidants, generally unliked. And now alone in a watery plane of exile with his brother for the next few thousand years.

The End: Tevesh Szat

An ender of lives and civilizations since his sister’s killing. If death isn’t the appropriate theme for a character who, in the face of apocalypse, tries to rack up the kill count even faster, I don’t know what is. Plus he was included in the Nine Titans specifically to die, and to bring more death by having died.

[theradioghost]

hey, can i pester you for some podcast recs? something with a good dose of humour and not too many episodes to catch up on. a sprinkle of queer romance would be a nice bonus. my fave so far is tsco starship iris, and i also loved greater boston, wooden overcoats, the bright sessions and caravan. and thanks always for all your great recs! you’ve brought many hours of joy into my life :)

We Fix Space Junk -- Two intergalactic repairpeople -- a knowledgeable cyborg veteran and a former socialite on the run -- travel the universe meeting people and fixing things at the behest of the terrifying intergalactic corporation they’re trying to work off their debts to. Hilarious British sci-fi sitcom featuring Evil Space Capitalism, many many wonderful AI characters, and an absolutely delightful teenage space wasp-human-cow hybrid princess who is probably off accomplishing her grandiose special destiny somewhere offscreen while the main characters deal with things like their bosses possibly trying to kill them (again).

Death by Dying -- People have a tendency to die in odd ways in the small town of Crestfall, Idaho. Luckily the town also has an Obituary Writer, an eccentric and nameless but impeccably stylish fellow whose closest friend is the Angel of Death, and who has a knack for solving murders even though that’s definitely not his job description. Throw in walrus haikus, extremely rude ravens, Something Mysterious And Malevolent Lurking In The Dark Woods Outside Of Town, disappearing childhood homes, silent nuns, ghost bicycles, and three man-eating cats, and you get something like a delightful cross between Wooden Overcoats and Lemony Snicket. (Also, OW is peak Canonically Bisexual Dumbass.)

Less is Morgue -- Riley is a paranoid, reclusive teenager with a fondness for conspiracy theories who lives in their parents’ basement. They’re also a predatory ghoul who feeds on human flesh. Evelyn is a cheerful, outgoing young woman with questionable tastes in media. She’s also a ghost, ever since she was killed by a falling stage light at a Nickelback concert 16 years ago. And since Riley dug up and ate Evelyn’s corpse, they’re roommates! Will they ever manage to record a coherent episode of their podcast without something going ridiculously wrong and/or Riley eating one of the guests? Probably not!

Victoriocity -- The steampunk buddy-cop comedy-mystery thriller you never knew you needed but definitely do! Featuring Inspector Fleet, a grouchy, extremely driven policeman looking for the murderer of the Empire’s greatest inventor, and Clara Entwhistle, an even more driven and unfailingly upbeat rookie journalist who has just arrived in the island-spanning, bizarre cityscape of alt-history Even Greater London. Come for some of my favorite sarcastic British narration since Adams and Pratchett, stay for characters-are-begrudgingly-forced-to-work-together-until-they-come-to-genuinely-and-deeply-care-about-one-another-as-friends trope. (Also for Tom “Eric Chapman” Crowley as the aforementioned grumpy detective.)

Quid Pro Euro -- From one of the other leads of Wooden Overcoats, this doesn’t have a typical plot as such but has made me laugh so hard I pulled a muscle despite the fact that I know nothing about the EU. Which is what this near-surreal, Look Around You-style comedy is about: Felix Trench’s vision of a simultaneously hilarious and terrifying alternate European Union, seen from the perspective of a serious of educational tapes from the ‘90s predicting what the EU would look like in the 21st century. It’s hard to describe this show in any way that does it justice, but it’s incredibly funny.

Time:Bombs -- A miniseries by the exalted creators of Wolf 359, which (because they are madmen) was written, recorded, and produced in the space of one week. Also, a comedy about an NYC bomb retrieval squad on New Year’s Eve, most of whom are just trying to get through the night while their leader attempts to break a record for most bombs cleared before the calendar ticks over. Chaos and hilarity ensure.

Superstition -- Wisecracking, bi, Jewish, definitely-a-private-eye-just-don’t-check-her-qualifications Jacqueline St. James receives a message from her father, which is weird, because her parents disappeared years ago. Following the trail leads Jack to Superstition, Arizona, a town in the middle of the desert where everyone’s got secrets, assorted ghosts/monsters/cryptids harrass the locals, and the missing persons rate is the highest in the nation. As a protagonist Jack is Looking For Trouble And If She Cannot Find It She Will Create It, so while Superstition isn’t a comedy per se, it’s got a fair share of laughs and is also just so, so excellent in general.

Standard Docking Procedure -- A self-declared hopepunk scifi workplace comedy about the somewhat dysfunctional staff of Pseudopolis Station, effectively a high-tech interstellar truck stop. It’s funny and heartwarming, nothing truly bad happens, and Julia Schifini is there.

Solutions to Problems -- A morally-questionable human named Janet who has defintely never done any illegal time travel and an easygoing, physically indescribably alien who likes to go by Loaf host an intergalactic advice podcast. Are you tired of your species’ insistence on solving everything via ritual combat? Not sure how to talk to your partner about whether body-swapping has a place in your sex life? Dealing with being a superpowered teenager summoned into being by the collective will of an apocalyptic groupthink cult? Janet and Loaf have you covered! Provided that Janet’s on-and-off girlfriend, the AI who supplies the air they breathe, doesn’t kill them all first. Oddly heartfelt comedy in the form of a relationship advice radio show from the Space Future.

Middle:Below -- This show’s tagline is “Remember: bad things WILL happen,” and that is basically a lie. This is actually a short, incredibly heartwarming and frequently funny show about Taylor Quinn, the only human with the ability to pass between the land of the living (aka the Middle) and the land of ghosts (the Below). Meaning, of course, that the dead call on him to fix all their problems, with the help of a girl named Heather, a ghost named Gil, and a cat named Sans. (Also, some of the most comparatively wild live shows I’ve ever heard.)

Inn Between -- Ever wonder what fantasy characters get up to between adventures, during all that time they seem to spend at inns? This show skips all the adventuring, question, and action, instead focusing on the quiet moments between where what is Definitely Not A D&D Party meet and progress from bickering strangers brought together by circumstance to close-knit found family -- all at the inn, of course. (Lots of queer folks in here also, although there’s no romance at least in the first  couple seasons.)

The Godshead Incidental -- A relatively new but very exciting and so far really enjoyable show!! Following a young woman who writes an advice column through her life in a familiar, and yet strange city where anyone might be a minor god -- your editor, your landlord, that weird guy on the street who was shouting about how he’s the God of Memory and you got into a fight with him and now you keep forgetting everything? Also, your apartment is full of pigeons now because you found out the aforementioned landlord is secretly the god of doorknobs and he’s panicking. Good luck! (Starring Ishani Kanetkar, aka Arkady from Starship Iris!)

Gal Pals Present: Overkill -- Madison, a middle schooler at a Girl Scout camp, agrees to play a game with a somewhat tastelessly bright-pink Ouija board. However, Madison doesn’t know that she’s a natural medium, and now sarcastic mid-2000s 19-year-old Aya Velasquez has joined the many ghosts who are for some reason haunting scenic Harding Park. Aya, however, will not rest until she can solve her own murder (and possibly get to know that other ghost girl a bit better, who says romance has to stop when you’re dead?). Absolutely hilarious writing of a narrator who is almost definitely wearing spectral Uggs during the entire show.

Dark Ages -- The Rivercliffe Museum of Mostly Natural History is one of the finest museums anywhere! Or it would be, if anyone ever actually visited it. Or maybe if the staff weren’t a disastrous and dysfunctional collection of criminals, weirdos, wannabe immortals, idiot bisexuals who can’t just admit they like each other, and one extremely uptight elf with no people skills. Also, it would probably help if the legendary and fearsome Dark Lord, finally returned from his millennia of dormancy to complete his prophesied conquest of the world, wasn’t hanging around watching the chaos unfold because they’ve got his crown on display. (Fantasy workplace comedy with a theme song that did not need to go that hard?)

Brimstone Valley Mall -- It’s mid-December 1999, and at one mall in South Central Pennsylvania, a group of demons are going about their evil work -- namely, working at various dinky kiosks and restaurants, hoping of achieving every demon’s dream of getting to work at Hot Topic, trying not to do too much evil because Earth is way more fun than Hell and no one wants to get promoted back home, and preparing for their band's triumphant opening performance at the upcoming Y2K party. Just one problem: their lead singer is missing. Another absolute masterwork from The Whisperforge.

Arden -- 10 years ago, Hollywood starlet Julie Capsom vanished into the woods of northern California, leaving behind a car containing a human torso that may or may not have belonged to one Ralph Montgomery. Now, private eye Brenda Bentley and reporter Bea Casely, both of whom were among the first at the scene and both of whom have their own very strong opinions on the case, are setting out to solve the mystery on their true crime podcast, Arden. Providing, of course, they can stop arguing with each other long enough to solve it. (Or, a not-really-parody-but-definitely-comedy “true crime” podcast where the crime is a retelling of Romeo and Juliet -- and even knowing that, it’s still a genuine mystery with twists and a surprise ending! -- and the hosts are wlw Beatrice and Benedick from Much Ado About Nothing. In other words, it’s perfect. Season 2 is upcoming soon and is adapting Hamlet!!)

Alba Salix/The Axe and Crown -- Another high fantasy workplace sitcom, this one a medical comedy about the titular not-very-personable witch who runs the kingdom’s House of Healing and the various shenanigans she gets into, between her somewhat scatterbrained sister and brother-in-law the king and queen and her assistants, an overly-whimsical fairy and a wannabe monk forced to do community service. The same feed contains The Axe and Crown, a spinoff set in the same world that manages to simultaneously be a sitcom about the staff of a local pub trying to stave off foreclosure and come up with schemes to beat their business rivals, and a heartfelt story about gentrification and recovery starring a gay veteran with PTSD? Which is possibly one of my favorite podcasts? (Also contains one of the most unbelievable crossover cameos possible: Leon Stamatis.)

The Adventures of Sir Rodney the Root -- Also a high fantasy comedy! When a witch transforms heroic Sir Rodney into a small piece of wood, his closest companion Sir Gilbert must set out to cure him by collecting several highly powerful and dangerous relics, accompanied by a snarky dwarfen thief, an imperious princess, a slightly creepy human child raised by fairies, a picky elf sorcerer, a dead unicorn possessed by the ghost of a stoner, and a bard who breaks the fourth wall too much for his own good. So far as I can tell, nobody is straight.

The Amelia Project -- A dark comedy about a secret organization that helps people fake their deaths. Which is honestly a pretty full summary, barring the two important points that 1. this show contains possibly the most continuity-warping crossover event of all time (it’s the center point of this absolutely chaotic diagram), and 2. in one episode Felix Trench plays a character named Bartholomew Fuckface Chucklepants Knucklecracker.

[randomuser678]

Sayonara Wild Hearts and Tarot Cards

Alright! I really want to think about how the tarot motif fits in the game, I am by no means a professional in tarot, but I wanted to connect the meanings to the way they are used on this fantastic game. So here we go

The first cards we see are the trio II-The Priestess, III-The Empress, and V-The Hierophant. They seem to be the entities of the world our dear protag goes to, The Empress is a Leader figure and both the Priestess and Hierophant are linked to wisdom so I guess that’s why.

The other card that doesn’t make a direct appearance is I-The Magician, the skip function! She appears when you make too many mistakes and makes your wishes come true, as a magician does. The card can represent manipulation, confidence and success. The skip function manipulates the world to make you succeed so that’s how it ties up.  

The Protagonist is 0-The Fool, and honestly, which other card would she be? It’s totally the card of potential and humble beginnings and all of that stuff protagonists have. It also grows into other arcanas and gains other abilities, which is about a fool’s life journey and growth, and I love the abilities she gains.

And then we have the bosses! The good thing is that they all follow patterns, mostly. Like, first, Protag uses a card to get to the boss, and then the boss uses a card of their own, that’s a really neat way to introduce them all!

First Evil Ex: The Dancing Devils

Protag’s aracana: The Wheel of Fortune

Here the Fool pulls out her first card, The Wheel of Fortune that turns into a sick bike. This card can mean Things you can’t control or good and bad luck, but it takes the form of something that’s very much under Fool’s control, she begins her journey by taking control of her fate, she is no long turned around by the wheel and gets to drive it around.

The Dancing Devils: The biker gang of the devil arcana, their setting is a city with cute ferries driving around. The Devil represents temptation and being controlled, which maybe is what their relationships was with the Fool.

The Dancing Devils vs. The Wheel of Fortune

The motorcycle being the fortune arcana represents Fool taking control of her fate, and the Devil represents being pulled by unknown forces. Fool is challenging fate and stronger powers.

Second Evil Ex: The Howling Moons

Protag’s Arcanas: Justice, Judgement and The Emperor

Here, Justice and Judgement take form of two guns that keep shooting automatically, representing Fool’s sense of Justice and truth being her weapon againist the Howling Moons. 

She also meets the Deer that represents the Emperor, an arcana of Leading and Guidance, like how the dear guides Protagonist through the weird forest, always by her side, but I think can also be a representation of her own confidence and pride.

The Howling Moons: A wolf themed group of four, “The Wolf Pack”, AKA some weird furries. The Moon represents Illusions and mysteries, and these gals gave Protagonist an acid trip so that fits pretty well. They also have a Cerberus thing going on, since The Death arcana is their leader I guess.

The Moon vs The Justice and The Judgement and The Emperor

The moon means illusions, with the Emperor’s confidence, protag’s sense of Justice and her Judgement look through those illusions for the sake of doing what’s right.

Third Evil Ex: Stereo Lovers

The Tower: Before facing the third boss, Fool needs to climb a deadly tower to then reach the lovers. The tower is an obstacle put there by the two faced woman, who setting Fool up for failure.

Protag’s Arcana: Strength 

This arcana takes for of a sword (That’s also a plane). Strength means emotional strength and gentleness conquering big challenges, and that translates to physical and active strength here. The whole conquering your demons with gentleness may be the lesson Protagonist learns at the end, where she learns to be kind with herself. Also! This weapon was given to the Fool by the Lovers, as if, she used the strength she gained from this relationship to get over it.

Stereo lovers: A woman who is later split into two versions of the same woman. This arcana represents need to make a choice and balance (or lack thereof) between reason and emotion, opposite concepts. This is a weird one? Maybe she was a two faced person who was always switching.

Lovers vs Strength

 The lovers two faced nature could have taken a tool on the Fool. demanding of her multiple types of strength, or strength in multiple areas. And as difficult as it was for her, she came out of it with the power the Lovers gave to her.

Fourth Evil Ex: Hermit 64 

The Chariot: Before getting to the Hermit, Fool is driving around in the desert, with a really sweet car. This card represents triumphs and celebrations after a struggle, and the car driving in the desert thing can represent freedom  and independence. Maybe after getting over her past relationship, or thinking she fully got over, she found herself on a happy state, she was free and independent, but maybe was still feeling lonely? Hence the next card is the one of isolation.

Hermit 64 and The World 

The Hermit is linked to isolation, like how the character is always wearing her VR set, which connects her to a world she has full control on. She comes off to me as a manipulative person, someone who is happier when they have full  control of all things and people around her. From what I’ve read The World can mean “Seeking personal closure” which I think is the Fool’s whole story.

Fifth Evil Ex: Little Death

The Star: This card represents Hope, the light in the end of the tunnel, a guiding or protecting light. In the game, it takes the form of a boat travelling trough dangerous waters, a little boat of hope sailing trough the waters leading to the final challenge. The parallels are pretty clear, and really poetic

Little Death’s Sun and Hanged man

Little Death is the final boss, so of course she has multiple Arcanas in hand. I personally believe in the theory that she was actually the Fool’s first relationship, from when they were younger, and she is so powerful because that’s the heartbreak that lasted the longer.

Oh and the Death Arcana means changes and transitions, more on that later

She pulls out the sun, which usually means creativity and friendship. and turns into a deadly electric circle thing, maybe she was a person who would use a bright façade a lot. The reversed sun can mean toxic friendships, so what I’m getting from this is that Death was manipulative and toxic underneath a happy attitude.

The Hanged man, which in these game takes form of a bunch of flying skulls, represents a moment of pause, and need for a new perspective, but reversed means delays, indecision and resistance, which is interesting considering that the Death Arcana means Change, while reversed means resistance to change.

Little Death has two forms, she Changes into something more dangerous after first defeat. She really was the toughest heartbreak. And when she shapeshifts into that one eyed demon thing, she looks older, like, taller and has a hair bun, so I like to believe that she was the first big heartbreak and then appeared again on The Fool’s life, making all of those repressed feelings flood.

Protag’s Temperance

The Temperance takes form of a bow and arrow, since the card represents balance and patience, it’s no surprise it takes form of such a precision and accuracy based weapon. She summons it to battle death. She destroys her fear of change and her heartbreak with her need to find balance in life, her need to cut off unneeded weight.

The Everything

This game is amazing, and honestly, being able to somewhat connect the meanings really enriched my experience so I wanted to share my thoughts, so if you got here thank you! And like, totally consider sharing and following me if you want.

[derkastellan]

Musings: Quo vadis, Fallout?

(I had this one in my drafts for a long time and I think I’ll polish and publish it now.)

Where is the Fallout franchise going?

I’ve been sinking quite some time into Fallout 4 and I wonder at myself. In many ways FO4 is a meh game, but yet I keep playing it. With 120+ hours it clocks in at more play time as my Steam copy of Fallout: New Vegas, but that discounts the time I sank into this game years ago before I even got Steam, IIRC.

FO:NV is one big quest tree. The design team put lots of effort of making your decisions and actions count and also impact the endgame. Minor factions align with you and you align with a (or make your own) major faction, and the whole landscape plays into this. There are detours and sidequests but the war between Caesar’s Legion and the NCR overshadows the whole setting. Decisions matter and dialogue makes all the difference.

For comparison, without modding FO4 doesn’t even tell you what you will say. Not many important decisions are left to you. Organizations you join may tell you you’re the boss but flood you with quests, setting your targets for you. FO4 has an addictive element because it has a gratification delay tuned so that you don’t mind its boring main quest and nonsensical main loop. You go places, explore, fight, kill, collect trash, and then return to work benches to improve settlements and gear. There are not so many advantages to building settlements - they can act as bases, produce food, water, safe stashes, caps, and allow crafting. But at the same time they throw up constant annoying distractions in the vanilla game.

FO4 has a barely passable setting builder that I nevertheless spent lots of time with. Carelessness or bugs however prevent you from making settlement defense matter (unless you’re there to help defend it). For a key element of the game it’s in many way more like an afterthought, more designed to limit than to enable the player - and again modded. I never had the sense of being on a meaningful quest and have explored the Commonwealth on side quests, roaming, exploring, clearing areas. I turned off respawning because the idea of doing it again seems nonsensical to me - just to up my level??

Let’s call it “world-building”

But where FO4 is truly the successor of FO3 and truly has chosen not to learn much from FO:NV is the lay of the land. The Commonwealth is big, lots of nooks and crannies, but also lots of samey-same. Supermutants, raiders, different raiders, ghouls, mirelurks, molerats. Some themed raider gangs and locations beat the monotony. The size of the Commonwealth has resulted in repetition, and you can tell how “unique” locations have been thrown in to hide that fact. Also every settlement except Diamond City has either failed or is one of these puny ones too small to be self-sustaining without the Minutemen.

That’s the joy of FO1, FO2, and FO:NV - to walk into settlements and learn their stories. It’s how people chose to survive, and also how these ways change. Great care has been put to make sure the settlements of FO:NV each have their own story and character. In this sense, FO4 only has Goodneighbor and Diamond City. And that matches up with its other major world-building flaw: Where are the damn people?

In Obsidian’s Fallout games people cluster together and try to eke out a living. There are clearly populated areas away from the dangers. In FO4 people talk about Diamond City like they go there every other month but realistically speaking that means passing through the Boston wasteland full to the brim with Supermutants, raiders, and more raiders. If people followed the highways in FO:NV they have a decent chance to make it to New Vegas, or at least had until some recent events made the route more dangerous - just in time for the player to play a role, of course.

In FO4 your potential settlements are often sitting in the wide open, much easier to attack than raider settlements, usually undefended and without fortifications, whereas the raiders, busy like beavers, always manage to make top-notch hideouts. (And then are too stupid to defend them - running towards noise and out of cover all the time.) It’s of course up to the player to add that little detail. Oberland station is the best example - it’s just a tall wooden building with a bit of crops next to it. The building offers space for three beds. The only advantage the settlement can offer is higher ground - which is not much. Raider attacks on the settlement were frequent until I switched them off and showed that the place was kind of pointless.

Don’t get me started about “Sanctuary” Hills...

In general, the populace of the Commonwealth seems unable to huddle together on their own, their militia has failed, raiders are rampant, and people die due to the many dangers. People roam alone without livelihood or defense in a region with great danger, yet reliably hear radio messages and follow them to Minutemen locations.

Sins of their “rule of cool” fathers

The logic of world-building is, however, in FO4 well above the one in FO3. I remember leaving that game for good when I learned about the quest where I need to bring an old lady a violin - a lady living in an isolated house in dangerous territory with no defenses but her own radio station. Get me that violin and you get caps. (And the violin would be in some axe-crazy museum location, of course.) And if you entered her house while followed by monsters, the game engine itself would show you how stupid the location was. (Or a quest to make “survival guide” by going on one dangerous mission after another...) FO3 tried to have “wouldn’t it be cool” locations but all of them are illogical and suck. The settlement on top of the highway is basically indefensible, too small, and while you’re there you’re prone to Mirelurk attacks. The miraculously remaining apartment towers have been completely sealed off with concrete walls - leaving not even a yard to grow some damn food in. Getting to the real town requires traveling mutant-saddled routes.

There is simply no sense in FO3. There’s no logic. Why do I do things? Why are things here? It seems like the team who made it had no idea. In FO:NV threats to settlements and their placement make some sense. Humans are the main threat to humans. And human warfare makes them vulnerable to other dangers. FO4 also makes no sense, like FO3, but not as blatantly.

The world-building of FO4 is that of a shooter game. It packs areas with enemies and designs them for shooting. It never concerns itself with the fact that the human and Supermutant baddies outnumber the humans. The size of its busy map requires it to have enough baddies around whereas FO:NV could allow empty spaces because it was set in the Mojave desert. Raiders are like predators - they cannot outnumber the prey. In order to eat, raiders have to hunt. For that to work they have to traverse a dangerous wasteland which makes their lives hard. Why would raiders then invest time in silly manhunts (like at the start of the main quest)? What would they gain from hunting for example the Quincy massacre survivors? (They already have taken over Quincy as their base.) The whole lot of them has two items of gear. Nobody but a cannibal (or worse) could get anything out of them.

Raiders have hideouts and prey on settlements. Like in FO. Like in FO:NV where their settlement actually makes sense - a camp in a canyon. In FO4 there are no viable settlements in most places until you make them. In other places, they are endangered by something that calls in questions how and when they have been erected in the first place. The chain of causality is often in question.

And that’s only one thing. If you think about the environment of FO4 nothing much makes sense, either, on a deeper level. Why are there lots of trees but none of them have leaves? Why has a dead forest not burned to cinders in wide areas? Why is there radioactive rain? Heavy isotopes have settled out the atmosphere long ago and don’t rise with evaporation. Lighter isotopes probably would have already stopped emitting life-threatening doses of radiation. (Radioactive Caesium halves over 30 years - 210 years after the war that’s 7 cyles, and that means that less than 1% of the original radiation remains.) Radioactive sandstorms make sense in comparison - in a dry environment radioactive dust can be blown about indefinitely, including heavier isotopes not bound into the soil.

We’ve come a long way... but it was mostly downhill anyway

In comparison, the original FO games explained how nuclear war worked and what fallout as a phenomenon actually is. What a grim lecture. But understanding things and making them go together with some sense didn’t make it into the Bethesda area. FO3 is like a fantasy game in how it makes sense, but lacking the underlying copout of magic to explain all inconsistencies away. Elder Scrolls: Fallout...

FO, FO2, and FO:NV kept their world-building wthin reasonable bounds. The story of a regrowing human civilization centuries after the war is largely sensible, and FO2 nods to human ingenuity when the old Core Region basically has it figured out by then. Okay, oceans being toxic sludge was just childish “Oh, look how dark and depressing everything is!” for its own sake, but all in all the games strike a balance between their dark setting and some kind of sense. (Yes, FO2 had goofball humor interludes. Nothing is perfect or safe from some silly Monty Python jokes.) 

FO3 and FO4 don’t. They go for effects, emotions, Rule of Cool. They are games first and stories as an afterthought. Their main quests are quite frankly crap and the decisions left to the player negligible. Do you really ever feel like you are impacting the world in a lasting way? FO and FO2 did some really cool things with a few decisions and slides to match, making you feel like you decided some key junctures of life in the Wasteland.

I’m not holding my breath for FO5. FO5 is mostly a shooting gallery, FO76 is a multi-player shooting gallery. Just like Fallout Tactics ditched the cool, story-driven roleplay for endless tactical battles, all Bethesda-bred FO games have ditched what made the FO, FO2, and FO:NV great. I don’t need more of that, not with better shooting mechanics, not with a half-broken settlement building, not with anything. Give me a good story and sensible locations first and foremost. Or I don’t care where you are going, Fallout.

(Looking forward to the Fallout tabletop role-playing game, though, if the 2d20 version ever sees the light of day...)

[pamphletstoinspire]

Living By Faith: The 27th Sunday in Ordinary Time (October 6th)

Our readings this week take up the theme of faith, both Israel’s faith under the old covenant and the faith to which we are called in the new. Jesus urges us not to despair even if we feel our faith is pitiful. God can work wonders using small material.

1. Our First Reading is a famous passage from Habbakuk:

Hab 1:2-3; 2:2-4

How long, O LORD? I cry for help but you do not listen! I cry out to you, “Violence!” but you do not intervene. Why do you let me see ruin; why must I look at misery? Destruction and violence are before me; there is strife, and clamorous discord. Then the LORD answered me and said: Write down the vision clearly upon the tablets, so that one can read it readily. For the vision still has its time, presses on to fulfillment, and will not disappoint; if it delays, wait for it, it will surely come, it will not be late. The rash one has no integrity; but the just one, because of his faith, shall live.

Like Jonah, the Book of Habakkuk is an anomaly among the Twelve Minor Prophets. The other ten relate oracles the various prophets delivered on behalf of the LORD to Israel and/or the nations. In Jonah and Habakkuk, however, the focus is largely on the spiritual struggle between the prophet and the LORD concerning the wisdom and righteousness of God’s providence over world history. Both Jonah and Habakkuk struggle with the justice of God’s ways. The Book of Jonah explores this question largely through narrative, whereas Habakkuk engages it through dialogue between the prophet and the LORD. Habakkuk resolves doubts about God’s justice by urging God’s people to live by faith in God’s promises, even if contemporary events seem contradictory or inexplicable. Habakkuk 2:4, which summarizes this message succinctly, is one of the most-quoted verses of the Old Testament in the New (Rom 1:17; Gal 3:11; Heb 10:38-39) and has powerfully influenced Christian piety, prayer, and theology.

As is the case with so many of the Twelve, no biographical information is available for Habakkuk. The form of his name is unusual and its meaning uncertain. It may be a passive form derived from the Hebrew root h-b-q, “to embrace,” i.e. “one who is embraced.” The date of the book is likewise uncertain. At least Judah, if not Israel, still seems to be in existence as the prophet writes, so it must be before the exile (>597 BC). Beyond that, the mention of the “Chaldeans” (=Babylonians) as a rising threat in 1:6 (cf. Isa 39) is the best piece of evidence for dating. The prophet’s words indicate that people will be surprised to hear that Babylon will be the agent of God’s judgment (1:5-6). This would certainly not be the case in the early sixth century BC (c. 590s-580s) when Babylon was a dominant and feared world power, so Habakkuk should probably be placed sometime in the late eighth (late 700s) or (more likely) the seventh century (600s) BC, when Assyria was still dominant in the Levant but Babylon was growing in power (cf. Isa 39).

Habakkuk begins his book by complaining to the LORD: why does God seem to do nothing about the violence and injustice the prophet sees around him (1:2-4)? God replies that He is preparing the Babylonians to come and destroy the evildoers (1:5-11) and Habakkuk acknowledges this divine judgment (1:12). However, sending the Babylonians as executors of justice raises another theological problem: how can God judge wicked persons by others who are yet more wicked (1:13)? The prophet goes on to describe the wickedness of wealthy man who consumes others (1:14-16) and “slays the nations” (1:17), perhaps the King of Assyria or Babylon.

The LORD’s response to this second, more sharply-focused complaint from Habakkuk is much longer and more detailed (Hab 2:2-20). First, the LORD counsels the prophet and all the righteous to have patience, even if it seems like the oracles of God are slow in fulfillment (2:2-4). Secondly, the LORD pronounces five woes (vv. 6-8; 9-11; 12-14; 15-17; 18-20) on the “arrogant man” whose “greed is as wide as Sheol” and “gathers for himself all nations.” This may be simultaneously (1) a hyperbolic description of any wealthy oppressor, and (2) a specific description of the King of Babylon (or Assyria). The message of these woes is that the wickedness of the wicked man will come back on his head: those he oppresses will one day suddenly turn on him (2:7) and he will experience the destruction to which he subjugated others (vv. 8, 10, 17).

The Book of Habakkuk ends with a psalm composed by the prophet, which appears in its present context to be a response to the woes against the evildoer just pronounced by the LORD (2:6-20). This psalm, which bears a strong resemblance to Ps. 68 and others, recounts a theophany of the LORD in which he marches north to Israel from the south (the region around Sinai), accompanied by a violent storm and earthquake (1:3-12). Having arrived, he vindicates his “anointed” (v. 13, probably the Davidic King) by slaying the sea serpent that embodies evil (vv. 13b-15). This entire poetic composition, colored with mythological imagery, may be a figurative description of the Exodus, the conquest of the land, or one or more other of God’s great saving acts of his people in Israel’s history. Essentially, it is a mytho-poetic description of God’s power over the forces of evil as the divine warrior, which is manifested in various ways throughout history.

In response to his vision of God manifesting his power and justice, the prophet resolves to “wait quietly” for the day of judgment on those “who invade us” (v. 16) and to rejoice in the LORD even though there is, as yet, no sign of the consolations and blessing that God has promised for his people (vv. 17-19).

The Book of Habakkuk is of perennial theological and spiritual interest because it struggles with the ever-pertinent question of theodicy, the justice of God. If God is good and all-powerful, why do the wicked seem to prosper? Of course, many other biblical books, notably Job and the Psalms, also deal with this issue. The answer offered by the Book of Habakkuk is that God will, in the end, deliver justice to all. In the meantime, it is necessary for the righteous to exercise trust or faith in the goodness, justice, and promises of God. This practical advice is summed up well in Hab 2:4b: “The righteous shall live by his faith” (RSV). The word translated “faith” is ‘emunah, which is more precisely rendered “faithfulness,” “integrity” or “fidelity.” It derives from the same Hebrew root meaning “true” (‘-m-n) that gives us “Amen,” i.e. “so be it!” or “it is true!” St. Paul quotes Hab. 2:4 in Rom 1:17, but follows the Septuagint in rendering Heb. ‘emunah as Gk. pistis, “faith.” Although the Gk. pistis (“faith”) is not the exact equivalent of Heb. ‘emunah (“faithfulness”), it certainly is the case that the Book of Habakkuk, taken as a whole, counsels the follower of the LORD to exercise trust or faith in the present while he awaits the fulfillment of God’s promises in the future.

P. Our Responsorial Psalm is Ps 95:1-2, 6-7, 8-9:

R. (8) If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts.

Come, let us sing joyfully to the LORD; let us acclaim the Rock of our salvation. Let us come into his presence with thanksgiving; let us joyfully sing psalms to him. R. If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts.

Come, let us bow down in worship; let us kneel before the LORD who made us. For he is our God, and we are the people he shepherds, the flock he guides. R. If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts.

Oh, that today you would hear his voice: “Harden not your hearts as at Meribah, as in the day of Massah in the desert, Where your fathers tempted me; they tested me though they had seen my works.” R. If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts.

Psalm 95 is a very common responsorial, and also appears frequently in the Divine Office. The Psalm recalls the trials of faith that Israel underwent in the desert, while wandering forty years under Moses. Massah (“trial”) and Meribah (“contention”) are names of the location in Exod 17 where the people ran out of water, and lost their faith in God and his prophet Moses. The grumbled and complained, accusing God of intending evil for them. We can say that those two events became iconic examples of the loss of faith by God’s people, and they resulted in plagues in both instances. They become ensconced in Israel’s memory as counter-examples to the faith we should embrace and demonstrate toward God.

2. Our Second Reading is :2 Tm 1:6-8, 13-14 :

Beloved:

I remind you, to stir into flame the gift of God that you have through the imposition of my hands. For God did not give us a spirit of cowardice but rather of power and love and self-control. So do not be ashamed of your testimony to our Lord, nor of me, a prisoner for his sake; but bear your share of hardship for the gospel with the strength that comes from God.

Take as your norm the sound words that you heard from me, in the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus. Guard this rich trust with the help of the Holy Spirit that dwells within us.

Unlike the Israelites in the desert, we have the tremendous “help of the Holy Spirit” in order to maintain the “faith and love” of Christ Jesus in our lives. Faith is contrary to a “spirit of cowardice,” but leads us to an attitude of “power, love, and self-control.” This reminds us of St. Josemaria’s teaching that Christians should have a kind of spiritual “superiority complex” when tackling the challenges of this world. Confidence should characterize the Christian; not self-confidence which the world urges, but what we might call “Christ-confidence” or “Spirit-confidence.” Knowing that “it is no longer I who live but Christ who lives in me,” we should have this great confidence that God will provide a means for us to overcome the obstacles we face. No doubt this will mean we must share in the “hardship for the Gospel,” but we can rely on the “strength that comes from God” to persevere through it.

3. Our Gospel is Lk 17:5-10:

The apostles said to the Lord, “Increase our faith.” The Lord replied, “If you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you would say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.

I think many take this parable wrongly. Hearing that faith the size of a mustard seed would be sufficient to perform miracles, folks reason like this: “I can’t work miracles; therefore, my faith must not even be the size of a mustard seed! I must try real hard to muster up some faith the size of a mustard seed, because my faith is microscopic!”

However, I don’t think our Lord was trying to discourage us and tell us that our faith was insignificant. Rather, the purpose of our Lord’s words are consolation, not rebuke. The point he is making to the disciples is this: You don’t need much faith to be effective! Just give me a little bit of faith and I can do great things for you! Just as I took five loaves and two fish and fed 5,000, I can take a mustard seed of your faith and transplant a tree into the ocean.”

Our Lord’s words are meant to be an encouragement. You may only have a tiny amount of faith, but go ahead and step out on that faith anyway. You do not need huge faith already in order to begin serving the Lord. He will take what you have and do great things with it.

“Who among you would say to your servant who has just come in from plowing or tending sheep in the field, ‘Come here immediately and take your place at table’? Would he not rather say to him, ‘Prepare something for me to eat. Put on your apron and wait on me while I eat and drink. You may eat and drink when I am finished’? Is he grateful to that servant because he did what was commanded? So should it be with you. When you have done all you have been commanded, say, ‘We are unprofitable servants; we have done what we were obliged to do.’”

It’s not immediately apparent what the connection is between this saying of Jesus and the previous teaching on faith. Maybe it’s this: sometimes those who do great works of faith think they are doing God a favor. Jesus says in a different place, “Many will say to me on that day, ‘Lord, lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many mighty works in your name?’” (Mt. 7:22) These are works of faith. However, to these individuals, Jesus responds, “Depart from me, for I never knew you, you evildoers.”

We don’t do God favors by serving him. Paul says, “If I have faith to remove mountians” — alluding to a version of our Lord’s teaching in Luke 7—“but have not love, I am nothing.” Great works of faith do not add to God’s glory. Nor does our holiness.

Jesus is reminding us here that we can’t actually put God in our debt, and that even a holy life is only “normal” for God to expect of us. After all, holiness is normal, it is sin and evil that is abnormal. Sin may be typical, but it is still abnormal. Mary was the first normal human being since Adam and Eve fell.

If we live a saintly life, in a sense it is nothing exceptional. All we’ve done is to be truly human, to fulfill the destiny for which we were created in the first place.

It makes me think of an anecdote a friend of mine shared with me this week. A construction crew was rebuilding a Carthusian monastery and came across the grave of a monk. Opening the casket, they found him incorrupt. Wondering what to do, they called the nearest Carthusian monastery, which was in another country. “What shall we do with the body?” they asked. “Bury him again”, came the reply. “But he’s incorrupt!” they protested. “All Carthusians are supposed to be holy,” came the answer, “this is not exceptional. Bury him again.”

This Sunday’s Gospel is calling on us not to pat ourselves on the back every time we turn away from temptation or do an act of mercy. It is only normal. Holiness should be ordinary.

From: https://www.pamphletstoinspire.com/

[fantroll-purgatory]

Itcha gal back from like August with Trinel’s kismesis’s moirail

Name: Tabula Auctor- Both are Latin for something to do with writing, but I can’t remember exactly what.

Tabula usually means tablet/table, and is most Famously known in the phrase Tabula Rasa, or Blank Slate, which has some interesting implications. 

Auctor is latin for Author or Originator, but in science it’s also the term used to describe the genetic donator for a clone. 

Since you gave her Two-writing based names, and these very interesting and multi-meaning ones particularly, I might gently try to pull in that themeing in her personality/interests/backstory, etc. 

For the Auctor name most directly, something interesting could be… Maybe Tabula’s ancestor was as interested in Descendants as Auctor is interested in Ancestors, and maybe… Tabula is a slightly more direct clone of her ancestor than ectobiology would Usually do. A Weird and major glitch in the system, maybe not a Direct copy but something very, very close to it.  

Age: 7.5

Strife Specibus: Staffkind- Taller than she is and with a box-thing on the end for looping around necks and stalig-whatevers.

I’m kind of tempted to say pickax instead, the double-sided kind. It’s a tool that… common enough in archaeological circles, as long as you’re careful with it, and it’s double-headed. You could also use it to hook around someone like one might with a scythe, given the head of the ax is big enough. 

Fetch Modus: Dig modus- Basically, a jumble of cards she had to sift through.

Ooo, you could make it more explicit and make it one of those dig kits. 

But instead of shells it’s her items and if she digs too hastily, she might break them.

Blood color: Cusp- Between gold and bronze.

I know you probably already know this, but I’ve got to acknowledge anyways that this is noncanon. But I’m gonna let you keep it anyways because I imagine that’s what you’re Goin’ For and I think her being in a weird blood place makes the direct cloning even more fun. 

Symbol and meaning: A tall rectangle with a line through- I tried to make it a light mix of bronze and gold signs.

I’ll take another look at the sign when we get to design, so we’ll see!

Trolltag: guardedTraveler

I kinda wanna recommend ancestralSapience, if her interest in ancestors is such an important part of her theme it makes sense to make a reference to it in her trolltag. Sapience is the ability to self-reflect and act with self-wisdom, or in response to learned information. 

Quirk: tHe quick browN fox…

You don’t explain why this, but it is good. I think since she’s somewhat fixated on the past, you could also have her have a quirk of going back to previous messages or repeating previous messages and saying things like “as per my last message […]” a lot.

Special Abilities (if any): Used to have psionics, but lost them when voidrot knocked out her psionic eye

We definitely still haven’t seen for sure Exactly how voidrot works or if it can only infect void players, so keep in mind that going forward this could be revealed to be very noncanon. I think it’s interesting if it was happening to her because she really technically is a glitch in the system and the universe is struggling to cope with her, though. 

Lusus: Cyedog; small fox-thing with one eye and wings.

We don’t really see Traditionally Winged creatures until we get up to like teal (there’s only really buggy wings until that point), and her theme isn’t really Flighty enough for me to say wings would be a necessary addition anyways. 

What if we go instead with like… a two-headed sheep? As a Dolly The Sheep jokey, it references the dual themes of the golds And the farmy themes common in brownbloods, too. 

Personality: Big block of text I pulled off my mastodon and slightly edited;

she’s a huge ancestor fangirl and probably the only troll who actively hunts in caves for old scrolls and shit. she’s 4'11, 7.5 sweeps, and has a heavy faygo drinking problem- in fact, it’s gotten bad enough that the soda barely affects her at all, like the radioactiveness in a banana. her moirail, vittah, is a vriskablood that does ribbon dancing and, when she gets to visit, tries to crack on tabby’s habits but yknow. also- tabs hates the theater. vittah’s kismesis won’t shut the fuck up about it- he’s a famous playwrite. She does genuinely care for vittah, and is one of the only trolls that acts normally around her. (May or may not submit Vittah sometime, tbh.)

So I love this ancestor thing enough that I brought it in more in like, her theme conception. I like the idea of her feeling Really, like Weirdly connected to her ancestor, as much as though she really could be a reincarnation of her, and she could have like… a bit of identity struggle. She really doesn’t know who she is because she feels this weird displacement and is trying to build some sense of self By reading about the ancestors. And since you gave her a writer name, maybe she could write a lot about history. And maybe even some Guilty Pleasure Self Insert Historical Fanfiction. 

You could probably give her a fixation on the classics, too. She likes old stuff, original stuff. She doesn’t like rehashes. It could be part of why she doesn’t like theater (on top of her finding Trinel annoying)- it’s all just remixes of the Clearly Superior Old Stuff.

Interests: Archaeology and the ancestors, mostly.

And faygo it would seem LOL. 

Title: Seer of space..?

I honestly think maybe Heir of Space, if only because that makes her inverse Mage of Time and implies an understanding Of time, which comes with her natural interest in and fixation on history. Her trying to passively shape and change space to match up with that form she’s built from a defunct past can cause a lot of problems until she comes to understand the current time and comes into herself!

Land: Land of Ocean and Frogs- (She lives in a desert so no water normally, and frogs is obvious.)

How about the Land of Idols and Frogs instead, a land where there’s like idealistic idolized versions of the frogs and she has to Realize that they’re not the ideal form and she can’t blindly chase the past in order to succeed at her quest and breed the correct frog.

Dream Planet: Prospit.

My Ipad is mean, so here’s the link to an image. Its kinda old though

Design: 

Just as before I really don’t think there’s much for me to say about or change in your character design! I think something you should keep in mind if you ever design the ancestor is that she should try to look like her ancestor or at least mimic her ancestor’s silhouette. The symbol could also use a little editing to fit both the brown and gold sign language… 

I wanted to keep the cut square design you wanted, but I also wanted to incorporate Taurga and Gemge, plus the Symmetry of the usual brown and gold signs. 

Thank you for sharing and I hope this helps!

-CD

[averagemovieg0er]

Captain Marvel Movie Review Spoilers

Captain Marvel introduces a new character into the already well established MCU and struggles to be a character people care for.

While Captain Marvel is a badass superhero who does some serious ass kicking, she lacks any empathy people could feel for her. While I’m myself a very emotional movie goer who cries at virtually every minor human conflict in every movie there is, Captain Marvel only managed to make me tear up on one occasion. While that’s a very subjective assessment it does say a lot about the movie. The movie has a rather weak opening, compared to the recently released DC Superhero Movie Aquaman it doesn’t capture the audience from the very beginning but rather leaves them hanging waiting for the feeling of having arrived in her world. The audience is waiting for the ‘I’m about to go on an adventure’ moment for essentially the whole movie. I never got to the stage of being completely invested in her story which usually happens at least at the end of the first act of a movie. Aquaman is a good example of a very immersive opening scene by opening Aquaman’s journey with a loud bang of a window blind slamming against a wall during a heavy storm. American Animals is another good example of a completely immersive opening, where over the course of a couple minutes the moviegoers are immediately captured by the story and intrigued. At the end of the scene the audience has arrived in the world of the protagonists and thereon begins the adventure. 

Sadly Captain Marvel doesn’t do that to the point that I barely remember how it begins and I left the theater roughly 3 hours ago. The opening sequence is interrupted by her waking up and revealing that she just had a bad dream. She then continues to look for Jude Law’s character Yon Rogg and their first interaction already tells you what kind of Character Carol Danvers is, she’s kind of sarcastic and has a dry humor I would say which I normally prefer and can relate to. However the first words she said  didn’t do anything for me and most of the audience members and I thought it was very bland and uninteresting. This conversation sets the tone for the rest of the movie. It’s not that she’s not funny or annoying or a bad person, but she has nothing distinctive to her. Anyone could’ve said these things, they’re not unique to her character. I know that it was only two lines but my point is that that’s how it continues. She does get funnier and more charismatic when she interacts with Fury and I do think that these scenes make her likeable and give her a certain edge, however these moment are quite rare and any other dialogue she has or decisions she makes are simply boring and almost predictable. I did enjoy that she feels like more of the girl next door type of character, as opposed to Gal Gadot’s Wonderwoman for example,which would make her more relatable, but somehow it doesn’t fit the story. They try to give her a backstory and some motivation but the scenes where they do try are never paid off. We see a couple flashbacks over and over again where she fails at go-karting or rope climbing, and they are supposed to be symbolic for her being human and never giving up, but the audience doesn’t feel that. To me it just showed that she fell down a couple of times and got up again but there’s no real plot twist in that narrative. They show a man in the Airforce telling her that she can’t control her emotions and therewith won’t ever be any good as an army pilot, but that moment is never paid off. In the first act they push the story line of her not being able to control herself because there’s more to her than being a fighter, like emotions and a moral compass, they just don’t bring that across. The pay off for all these scenes is the moment where she stands up to the higher intelligence by accepting that she’s human and therewith unlocks her full powers. It sounds great on paper but in reality the scenes didn’t do anything to the spectators. The person she stood up to has almost no significance, and it just continues the repeatedly shown narrative of her getting back up after she’s been down but we still don’t really understand her motivation. Also she doesn’t face any obstacles of trying to unlock her powers, she just does so by using them to its full extent. The idea of her humanity being the main hardship she has to battle with isn’t shown in an emotionally investive manner, she just says it. They showed her struggle with coming to terms with who she is in a way better sequence when Maria Rambeau tells her that she’s there for her and emphasizes on their strong friendship in the past. Maria Rambeau is the best written and most human character in the movie in my opinion. I truly feel for her and because she’s such a great character her words towards Carol have such a big influence that she is able to benefit from them and show her vulnerable human side, but unfortunately that’s the only thing where we see it because the climax just uses dialogue without any emotionally investing background. That was also the only moment that made me tear up because you could feel the confusion and hopelessness Carlos must’ve felt the whole time, discovering she was  brainwashed for the past six years and missed out on this great connection with Monica.

Another reason why the movie feels a little shallow are the stakes, who are basically non existent. I know that a lot of people say there aren’t ever real stakes in a Marvel movie which I fundamentally disagree with, BUT in this one there really aren’t any. She is already super powerful at the very beginning of this movie, and we’ve seen in the trailer that she can fly. Even without seeing the trailer they tease from the very beginning that she’s even stronger than we see in the first parts of the movie because characters like Yon-Rogg continuously tell her to hold back. Her ‘opponents’ don’t really seem to have any superpowers and she can easily overpower them mostly even in hand to hand combat. She’s never in any real danger which wouldn’t really be a problem if there were other obstacles she has to overcome but as I already stated her back story doesn’t really work and doesn’t prevent her from kicking ass at all. There’s no real inner or outer conflict. The big enemy Ronan just flees the scene upon seeing her powers, which is kinda cool at first glance and symbolizes how powerful she really is but it’s also insanely underwhelming. It’s very atypical for these powerful characters to just give up that easily. Imagine the Avengers just fleeing the scene everytime they see someone more powerful than them . Every Avengers movie would result in them giving up. I know that there’s more complexity in Avengers’ motives of why they keep fighting even in hopeless situations, but Ronan giving up that easily just seems like lazy writing and he’s only being used to demonstrate how powerful Captain Marvel is supposed to be, which just makes him a disposable plot device. The moment where she discovers her true strength comes as no surprise and there’s not even a visually satisfying scene of her coming into her full powers, other than the one we’ve already seen in the trailer countless times and a short cool scene of her falling, her eyes lighting up and realizing that she can fly. Also her powers aren’t very well established I still don’t know what her powers actually are, they seem boring and that thing she did which resulted in Ronan leaving was very abstract and not really a tangible concept to grasp, which I do realize sounds ridiculous because it’s a Superpower, but it still leaves me kinda confused of how she would for example try to defeat Thanos. I don’t know the full scope of her powers, other than people outside of the movie telling me that she’s supposed to be the strongest Avenger.

Talking about the visuals is also important when reviewing this movie. They’re just kinda bland. The only visually pleasing scenes are of her flying into space and preventing Ronan’s bombs to hit earth, but it’s too short and the badassness and the seriousness of her powers and that moment are taken away by her screaming about how much fun she’s having. Now it is a fun character trait to include her acting like that but it seems out of character, because she’s never seemed like the ‘screaming because of happiness’ type of character. Also in comparison to Thor in Ragnarok, who became this really funny goofy character, he doesn’t squeal of joy when he unlocks his full powers on the rainbow bridge. It’s a serious moment, it’s life or death for his people, but these stakes and the seriousness is never present in the third act of Captain Marvel.

To add another comparison of these two movies, Captain Marvel doesn’t really have a tone. It has semi grungy visuals but that’s it as far as that goes. Certain parts of the movie are too dark, like the very first Starforce mission and Captain Marvels battle against the Starforce at the end of the movie. The music isn’t special but a rather obvious choice and sometimes doesn’t go with the scenes at all. For example when Carol has to fight Yon-Rogg and the Starforce on Lawson’s Ship. The music and the seriousness and badassness of the scene don’t go together at all. The visuals alone can’t carry the theme of the movie and much like in the first Thor movie they chose a location that’s rather bland to begin with, which is parts of Los Angeles where you don’t see any landmarks and then somewhere in the desert. The switch from a beautiful outer space civilization to the plain desert hasn’t worked in Thor and didn’t work in Captain Marvel either. On top of that the space station of Dr. Lawson felt like an unfinished set piece in my opinion. It was just a room with space ship looking like walls and a couple of artifacts from earth randomly placed in the room, it again didn’t have a distinctive feeling to it, nor did it set any specific atmosphere for the scenes.The MCU has stepped up its game and knows what it’s doing with essentially every movie but Captain Marvel doesn’t portray that and feels very forgettable. If that was the first superhero movie I’ve ever seen I would’ve been amazed but only because of the visuals and because she’s a superhero and that’s always exciting. But we’re long past that. We live in a post Infinity War era, where Superhero movies have exceeded their genre and they tell the most human and grand and mind blowing stories in cinematic history. At first it might just be unfair to expect such a standard from an origin movie, but then I realized that I can still go back to Dr. Strange or Black Panther and be just as excited for their story as I was when I watched them the first time and they totally hold up even in the face of Infinity war, so Captain Marvel really has to step her game up, other heros have done it too. I really wanted to see the movie succeed considering Carol Danvers is going to be part of the MCU for a while now but I was disappointed. It was still an entertaining movie at times and I don’t regret going to the movies to see it but at its best it’s just mediocre which no superhero in the MCU deserves at this point. Captain Marvel is going to join the Avengers in Endgame and I hope that she’ll be ‘Russo’d’ just like Cap, Spider-man and Thor. I still believe in Marvel to make the right decisions to bring a glorious end to the first 10 years of the MCU. The clock to Endgame has begun !

Overall score: solid 5/10 

Quick complaints and thoughts:

(Goose’s eye-scratching scene should have happened at a different time in the movie, it felt kinda forced and short cut, but I liked the idea)

(The Avengers Initiative being named after Captain Marvel felt a little disrespectful to all the other heroes we’ve been with for the past 10 years, just didn’t feel deserved)

(Coulson was way underwritten, but I liked him more than I did in The Avengers)

(Did they have to release Captain Marvel before Endgame because they needed to introduce Goose as a Flerken in order to use her dimensional pockets to defeat Thanos ??)