#unseen meta.

[gravesung-moving]

quick and dirty bios for the unseen's inner circle (the sanctum)!

bc i just remembered sage and fletch are the only unseen creatures i actually have bios for.

*note — by default, these descriptions apply to the unseen as they are in shelter island. some details are subject to change based on verse. *note 2 — each member of the sanctum has a self-chosen tarot card that's left behind as a "calling card" at a particular job they claim responsibility for. in place of a stolen bounty, on top of a body, etc.

acheron ??? (he/him) — the poisoner

the emperor

dilf

calm, collected, honest but in a kind way. pretty emotionally intelligent.

as a rule, never pries into other people's business. lane = stayed in.

has a son who's in college rn! on good terms with his ex-wife.

ex-safecracker/bank robber

he makes poisons! has a little lab and everything

occasionally fletch will pull him out of retirement and make him go crack a safe. he complains about his knees

norah suman (she/her) — the engineer

the sun

lesbiab

has had a secret crush on seph for a couple years. designed her arms from the ground up, and the first point of contact when something goes wrong or seph needs a redesign/upgrade

dry humor, very blunt and often sarcastic

eyebrow piercing

habit of chopping off her hair when she's sad

makes the gadgets. makes explosives, modifies weapons, invents new shit, always thinking about new ways to do stuff. engineering as an art and a science at the same time.

also an up-and-coming tattoo artist!

orion aisa (he/they) — the forger

the moon

seph's twin brother

not a great fighter, hates using guns

eyepatch over his right eye. fletch took it when he and seph tried to escape as teenagers, along with ripping seph's arms off, which is a very normal and cool and chill reaction to have

trans lad. top surgery, took testosterone for a few years but then stopped. pretty satisfied with where he's at right now

excellent painter

suffers from hand tremors, though they fade when he paints

hector dionísio (he/him) — the muscle

the wheel of fortune

unpredictable and violent. unhinged.

will be having a drink with you and then at a hair-trigger provocation, he'll just turn around and start kicking the shit out of someone

scarily good fighter, way too fast for his muscular build

no one knows why fletch trusts him to be in the inner circle and not rat on them

unexpectedly very reliable as a teammate. he does his job very well

fixated on seph in a "constantly riling her so that she'll fight him whenever he wants" way

fixated on edith in a "why can't i land a hit on you. come here" way

pit fighter. so far undefeated

cody shimura (he/him) — the accountant

justice

the most guy ever

he's so tired.

retired hedge fund manager, went into crime because he did some digging, realized the finance industry was already in fletch's pocket anyway, and his ability to stealthily uncover those secrets impressed fletch enough to hire him on.

tries to be a plant dad but he keeps killing them

surprisingly well-trained with a gun

occasionally pulls out the most scathing one-liners in the quietest and calmest voice imaginable

sage / VECTOR (she/her) — the driver

the world

technomancer (arcane hacker)

pokemon superfan

harvard dropout

a pretty normal person, generally, probably the least traumatized out of the crew

can summon cars / motorcycles made of, essentially, compressed/hardened demon souls sourced straight from hell

also has normal, non-summonable cars / motorcycles that she likes to augment and fix up with norah's help

has a giant fluffy dog named Baby

fucking Maniac behind the wheel. the dog's name is a reference to baby driver for a reason.

if she knew about @tewwor's vector alias, she would make them matching shirts

edith winter (she/they) — the thief

the hermit

sneaky. quiet. wow shocker

fey changeling who's lived on earth their whole life, but is in contact with the human child they replaced

raised by wolves a gang, sort of collectively alongside her parents. it takes a village yaknow. they all had a hand in training her to be the insanely skilled thief she is — edith was probably the most valuable piece on their board, even at a young age

said gang was absorbed by the unseen and scattered across the world for resisting said absorption. one of edith's parents was killed in the conflict, the other was sent across the world but she doesn't know where

no one knows if they're bitter about it or not. they don't talk about it

acheron taught her how to crack safes

caro vitale / deadfall (he/him) — the fence

the hanged man

owner of the black stag, a bar and antique shop just at the northern edge of the city where metropolis meets highway meets forest.

can sell anything to anyone

no one knows a single thing about this man except for the fact that he's fluent in italian. he WILL lie if you ask him anything else. caro vitale is also not his real name

he got that thang on him (a club)

tattoos everywhere

ishal king (they/them) — the doctor

death

fae nephilim (an angel fucked an archfey and produced a very strange kid), exiled from the autumn court for death crimes before going into the human medical field as a surgeon.

nearly got arrested for experimenting with nephilim blood (their own, but whatever guys), faked their death, joined the unseen. now works happily and privately for fletch in their silly little lab.

mushroom garden

medicinal plant expert alongside their knowledge of modern medicine

ominous positivity

anah tannar (she/her) — the spy

the lovers, reversed

you know her! you love her! she's probably broken your heart!

local celebrity influencer

resident honeypot for any woman-attracted target

prefers to be flashy and stand out, but also insanely good at blending in and being invisible when need be

serial dater. never lets anyone too close, but loves to have a web of one-way connections to people who think they're her best friend or favorite ex, and/or owe her a favor (she has a book of debts)

a genuinely compassionate person underneath it all, she just leaned hard into her manipulative side after being used one too many times

persephone aisa (they/she) — the assassin

judgement

first lieutenant/right hand to amari fletch, and thus second-in-command to the unseen itself

sharpshooter, beat-upper, gunfighter, knife-swinger. if john wick can do it, so can they

cold, aggressive, hostile. deadly as fuck. if you follow this blog you probably came from hers so i won't go into too much detail SJDKHJKSD

amari fletch (they/he) — the leader

the tower (also the name they're publicly known by)

i swear they're not secretly thousands of years old i swearrrrr (yes they are) (they cheated death in a game of dice and bear the mark of cain for it)

think gus fring, netflix wilson fisk, silco — that type of person

spidery motherfucker, aka has connections eeeeverywhere. so many judges, cops, government officials in their pocket.

for the most part, fletch is satisfied with the world the way that it is. the unseen profits nicely, they have as much power as they need, and no one fucks with them (if they even know it exists)

if someone does fuck with him and his, however, he will not hesitate to make a violent and chaotic example of them for the rest of the world to see.

calm and levelheaded 99% of the time. 1% of the time, off-the-wall destructive

will take risks if they can see a benefit and the consequence of failure won't fuck up their plans.

extremely powerful in a fight (is not human) with enough raw strength to fully charge straight through a building wall by wall if they wanted to. but they don't. lmao

seph is their protegé (????) (i genuinely don't have a term for their relationship it's so fucked up and hard to describe), & they are very very possessive about it

[sauronism]

one of my favorite scene from this show is louis' photographic collection.

it's just so. heartbreaking and messy.

armand wants to make louis happy as much as he can, that he slip in photographs that were not taken by louis so other people can praise him. daniel wants louis to be appreciated for his hardwork that he ended up complimenting a picture that was not taken by louis. there's just something so lonely and poetic about that scene. it's like. louis is sorrounded by people who is willing to hear his voice, but after all these time? they still can't see him. they still dance around and dodge his vulnerability. still trying to keep him "safe". but like- it's not really a bad thing!!! they want to make him happy. but it just feel so alone in the sense that they tiptoe around him.

[blood-starved-beast]

Something I haven't thought about much since the Technical Test but occurs to me now a month later is how I initially assumed Eris was working like vigilante style with the Chronos fight. It seems strange but it was based only on the dialogue between Hecate and Nemesis where she tells Nem that if she doesn't like her job she can do whatever Eris is doing. Which makes me think.

That's such an interesting line from Hecate. Cause when we meet Eris for real in the game, she is doing everything in her power to stop Melinoe. It's the complete opposite of that erroneous impression. Unless, it's not completely wrong.

Eris's whole deal, as is in the mythology, is that she wants to keep conflict ongoing as much as possible. She thrives on strife, and never picks a side but instead baits all involved to fan the flames. She's on everyone's side and at the same time, no one's. That likely carries over to Hades 2.

So what was Eris doing when she was gone from the Crossroads? It's entirely possible she was fighting Chronos forces, if only to cause more strife and prevent him from re-establishing his Golden Age. Cause then the Strife would actually end and a new order is established (which she hates). She only stops cause Melinoe becomes a larger threat to that Strife and decides that she needs to tip the scales in the opposite direction.

Alternatively, she was baiting whatever was attacking Olympus. There's a convo where she mentions that things were finally getting interesting, after all. Which coincides with Melinoe going to the surface to stop the attack there. Granted, this doesn't necessarily negate the earlier theory. The attack could've easily happened as Eris was "helping" the Unseen with Chronos's forces.

Either way, if Eris was "helping" the Unseen at that moment, it sort of makes sense why she's regarded the way she is in the Crossroads. Treated as an annoyance despite actively preventing Melinoe from achieving her goal. Cause much like her keepsake, Eris is a "tool" that can be beneficial with a high risk. If the conflict is tipped against you to the point that your opponent might win, Eris would likely aid you. But if the reverse is true, then she'd be againist. Very risky, not an ally in the true sense, but can be useful in certain circumstances, which a tactician such as Odysseus might consider.

[twoflowersdeadwife]

...or maybe the Lady is actually Rincewind's Mother/Creator

Clues:

Rincewind's self-proclaimed middle name is Luck (first name Bad)

He is described as a "luck sink" in Unseen Academicals (and what do you do in a sink? rinse! not a clue, just a pun)

He gets into dangerous situations (bad luck) but then always survives them (good luck)

Rincewind's mother ran away before he was born-- if taken literally, then this could only occur with magic, so his mother was either a time travelling witch or a goddess

He kept encountering the Number 8, which is considered unlucky to wizards due to the Octavo; 8 looks like an infinity symbol and also sort of like a woman's body -- who is an immortal 'woman'? The Lady (this one is kind of a stretch, I admit)

The Lady has green eyes, some of the official art portrays Rincewind with green eyes

But then who is Rincewind's father if the Lady is his mother? (if a father is even required in this situation) Possible candidates include:

Fate - an enemies-to-rivals-who-fuck romance that produced a child, Rincewind, whose fate is adventure and danger but who also has the good luck to survive it all. (yeah, Fate tried to get Rincewind and Twoflower killed, but maybe he didn't know or even didn't care Rincewind was his son)

Lavaeolus, the Rinser of Winds - who had to go on an oddessey (misspelling intentional) to get home. Maybe the Lady played the role of Circe in his journey, and Rincewind was born as a result (many years in the future, because the Lady decided she needed him at that time for her games with the other gods)

Bill Rincewind - who then, upon finding out he--who as a wizard is meant to be celibate--got a woman pregnant, went out for milk/cigarettes/beer and took the 'wrong' boat, ending up in Fourecks (this is a crack theory)

[acerbaa]

we've been talking about carl jung's archetypes of the collective unconscious in class and i'm out here like. these remind me of the tma entities

[bitchofdarkness]

Thoughts on Kim Yeong-hu and Tak In-hwan

Something that I noticed pretty early on was that Kim Yeong-hu was not a fan of Tak In-hwan. He probably couldn't stand him on a personal level long before the monsterization started, but since the guy was his superior he didn't make it as obvious as he would've probably liked to. He did speak his mind though, so that tells us enough about how much respect he has for Tak. *cough* none *cough*

In episode one we see how betrayed he looked at Master Sergeant Tak's actions, aka letting one of the monsters go.

Now we also know from later episodes that Yeong-hu is one of those guys that aces tests (he beat Sergeant Min in every competition) and most likely climbed the ranks due to being a dutiful, obedient little soldier that listened and acted on the orders given.

That's why he was so pissed off when MS Tak suddenly changed tune, because Yeong-hu recited the order they'd been given from the start and had been acting on the whole fucking time and Tak had the audacity to act like that was never the case.

Imagine you're Yeong-hu, doing what you're told, because clearly those higher ups had to have some sort of clue in this batshit crazy apocalypse that was going on. (And they did, they just kept it all to themselves) And since enough monsters had been hostile and killed civillians or fellow soldiers, killing them didn't seem like the wrong thing to do.

What pissed me off was how MS Tak kind of painted Yeong-hu as a bad person for following orders (in that first episode you can see how he silently judged him). He himself shot the mother-monster and instructed to burn her. And yet he acted like Yeong-hu was super cruel for doing what he was told.

And then he changed directions by telling Yeong-hu their order had always been to only kill the monsters that were attacking them, not all monsters.

Then, pray tell, why the fuck did he shoot the mother of that baby monster he let go? She did NOT attack him at all. She didn't even hurt any of the soldiers when she frantically tried to get to her baby (and technically she could've done that). And still, he wanted her dead, but then does a 180° and spares the baby monster.

Make it make sense. If you want your soldiers to all act the same and follow your orders, you fucking give them the right order instead of judging them for doing what they were instructed to do. Idk if some people don't get this (when I recall some posts about the second season), but when you go through as much training as these Navy Seals did, you're one cohesive group and you do what you are told and not start getting creative yourself, because that would mean death for your unit or yourself in a dangerous situation/combat. You have to be able to predict what your comrades would do and quickly, i.e. in case you're not able to communicate via comms.

I doubt Yeong-hu or any of the other soldiers actually want to kill the monsters that are docile. In the later episodes they clearly figured out a system to mark the harmless monsters with paint and refrain from killing them.

That could've been a possible way to react to this situation from the start, but Tak seriously decided on a whim what they were supposed to do. And I hate him for that. I can't stand him. Sure he let the baby go, but he still helped kill; ordered to have her killed and watched the mother die. He is the worst, since his word would've stopped it all right away, but he decides not to say anything until his actions were questioned by Yeong-hu.

And we know Yeong-hu took it to heart, because I doubt Tak was the one coming up with the idea to mark the harmless monsters so none of the soldiers would kill them and only focus on the dangerous ones.

Anyways, I think that moment with the mother and baby monster in episode one was the start of Yeong-hu questioning everything Tak told them to do. And even though he tells him later on that he trusted him to take care of the troops, I doubt that he did. And Yeong-hu had every right to doubt that guy, since they lost half of their people within a fricking year.

And you know what's sad? Yeong-hu's personal decision was to go and find Yong-seok on his own, because he didn't want to risk the life of any of his soldiers. But then Tak decided the crazy doctor should go with them and obviously he would need more protection, aka more men. Who obviously died.

I know it must've been Seok-chan who told the Master Sergeant about Yeong-hu's plan to go on his own, but Seok-chan's intention was to keep Yeong-hu safe, while Tak's intention was for the crazy doc to get to his lab- not to save Yong-seok.

Idk where I'm going with that, but I think a lot of people assume he's a bad person because he's military, but Yeong-hu actually just suffers from resting bitchface and has a big heart (granted, most of the space in his heart is taken up by Seok-chan, but still) ...he cares so much for his fellow humans and you can basically watch him grow throughout the whole season.

[oveliagirlhaditright]

Buffy and Angel Either Getting a Happy Ending/or Dreaming About Getting Their Happy Ending in the Books

First, we have the Choose Your Own Adventure Book "Night Terrors" (that takes place in season two), where one of the endings you can get is where Buffy ends up in an alternate dimension where the Angel there has become mortal.

Next up is book three of the "Unseen Trilogy" (that is a Buffy and Angel crossover), entitled "Long Way Home" (it takes place during Buffy season 4/Angel season 1). And here we have Buffy seeing an alternate reality where things worked out for her and Angel.

With the Angel book, "The Longest Night," there are multiple stories in here about the first Winter solstice Angel Investigations experiences with Fred (during Angel season 3), and you can choose for yourself which one of them you want to be "canon," if you will. This is the story from the book "Icicle Memories." Oh! And in the context of "Icicle Memories," it's hinted that things actually were meant to be that way--with Buffy being with Angel, surely, not all the other craziness he saw in this fantasy (as well that everyone else's visions the snowman made them see should have been their lives)--but for whatever reason, things didn't pan out that way, so it's the lives they have now that matter.

And then in the Buffy/Angel book "Heat" (that is during Buffy season 7 and Angel season 4), there's a moment where one of the villains knock both Buffy and Angel out. And while they're unconscious, they both dream about lives together. The one villain is partly responsible for this, in wanting to keep them down, but note that these dreams aren't real at all--like in being alternate realities or anything like that, like some previous things were.

Bonus:

While the Boom comics aren't canon and I'm not really a fan of them. Oops, this version of Buffy and Angel (and Spike, I guess?), definitely look like they've figured it out, when they show up to help the Boom!version of the characters in battle, when multiple versions of Buffy, Angel, Spike, and some other Buffyverse characters show up in some of the last issues of the first reboot comic, to aid in the final confrontation.

[mairen-marionette]

test to see if the pictures are side-by-side, and also to like, have two unused tftsmp characters wo I talk about sometimes back on the dash again lol.

[gravesung-moving]

quick and dirty (because i'm unable to do anything else apparently) unseen info!

because multiple ppl have asked me for a rundown and i need to make a realass lore post eventually, but for NOW here's a summary :> thank u zag for being the final nail in the coffin to motivate me to do this LOL

SO the unseen is like. let's say we're talking Magic Earth. they're a global crime syndicate that works in the shadows, there are lots of rumors about them existing but obvi nothing really confirmed — they're not like the yakuza where you kinda know a member when you see one. they're famously indistinguishable from regular people, and they've infiltrated pretty much every area of the societies they have a strong hold in (most nations that have global political sway except japan, where the yakuza are blocking them out.) and their membership, in western countries with major political influence, gets up into the like double digit percents of the population — there are a ton of unseen. they're fuckin everywhere. half the people on the street or in a restaurant could be unseen. but most of that large number is what i call 'listeners' or 'foot soldiers' — just regularass people who are paid to eavesdrop on conversations around them and report back to data handlers that sift through it for relevant info. 

when you go up a tier in the ladder, the membership number shrinks dramatically. like maybe a third of the size of the listeners, scattered in groups across the globe. that's the mid-tier, like, Gang Member Gang Members — drug runners, organizers, forgers, hitmen, extortionists, scammers, all that stuff. 

this is also the tier that collects street kids and trains them to be unseen soldiers — they're divided into cohorts and trained from like 8-10 yrs old to 17-18 yrs old. school is optional and limited to schools whose faculty are in the know/paid to look the other way. (seph's brother orion went and thrived all the way thru high school, seph chose to be tutored with her cohort instead) there are multiple cohorts, but i usually divide them in my head btwn 'killer cohort' (seph) and 'utility cohort' (orion) so they're trained to be good little worker bees and completely loyal to the unseen with no other attachments. trained to blend into society easily :> 

THEN THERE'S LIKE. THE ELITE. the lieutenants, handlers, small crews that the unseen will send on sensitive missions requiring a lot of skill. there are maybe like 700-800 across the globe i'd say.

lastly, there's the leader — amari fletch / the tower — and their inner circle of twelve people, which i call the sanctum. each of these people has a specialty that they are The Best in the unseen at, but they can double in for someone else if need be. they're essentially like an oceans eleven crime crew KSJDHIUHDK seph is the killer (+ the leader's right hand man), orion is the forger, @harerazor's muse altair is the doctor, etc etc! each of them is given a tarot card to use as their alias so that the rest of the unseen doesn't know who they are. more details about the sanctum's members (all available on this blog except seph, obvi) HERE!

[mediumsofmayfair]

CHARACTER QUESTIONNAIRE !!

BORROWED FROM: @radicalrascals.

TAGGING: @opheliaximmortal, @eclipsecrowned, @behindviolenteyes, @sangcreole, @withinycu and @godpyre.

 ✧･ﾟ   𝐃𝐀𝐒𝐇 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄.

► ROWAN, MONA & MERRICK MAYFAIR. 

★  ⸻   GENERAL

Name: Rowan Mayfair | Mona Mayfair | Merrick Mayfair

Alias(es): The thirteenth (13th) witch | Ophelia | practitioner of Vodou

Gender: genderqueer (she/they) | female (she/her) | demi-girl (she/they)

Age: 26+ | 20+ | 24+

Date of Birth: November 7, 1959 | October 24, 1983 | September 20, you do the math

Place of Birth:  NOLA, Garden district | New Orleans, garden district | New Orleans, French quarter

Spoken Language(s): French, English, Telekinesis, ghost/demon conjuring, French Roman Catholic, foresight and spells | French, English, intersectional feminism, telekinesis, ghost/demon conjuring, spells, and ghost hunting | Haitian creole, French, English, aave, ghost/demon conjuring, spells & ghost hunting

Orientation: bi (male lean) | bi (non-discriminating!) | bi (female lean)

Occupation(s):  that’s Miss Doctor Rowan Mayfair, PHD to you! | running the coven of the articulate when Lestat becomes histrionic 🤷‍♀️ | practitioner of Haitian Vodou & Talamasca member

★  ⸻   APPEARANCE

Eye colour: green | blue | brown

Hair colour: blonde (canonically) (black in the TV show) | auburn/red | dark black

Height: 5’8” | 5’0” | 5’4”

Other: the emerald necklace connecting her through a deal her great ancestor, Suzanne Mayfair made to the preternatural ghost/demon Lasher akin to a whip and the sound of the wind. | dresses exceedingly feminine, performing her femininity like a Shakespeare thespian or drag Queen/King. | At minimum Merrick always has a book on hand and a hair accessory in her creole curls.

★  ⸻   FAVORITE

Colour:  purple the queenly kind | baby blue | Mayfair (emerald) green. Song: Rowan | Mona | Merrick

Food: beignets | gumbo | shrimp po’boy

Drink: champagne | wine | bourbon

★  ⸻   HAVE THEY...

Passed university: with above average marks! | no - but more than capable of doing so! | no but only because time never let her

Had sex: yes | yes - perhaps… a lot | yes

Had Sex in Public: no | don’t tempt her sounds thrilling | no

Gotten pregnant/someone else pregnant: yes | no | no

Kissed a boy: yes | yes | yes

Kissed a girl: yes | yes | yes

Gotten tattoos: no | no | no

Gotten piercings: yes | yes | yes (ears for all of the above) Merrick, also pierced her nose

Been in love: yes | yes | yes

Stayed up 24+ hours: yes | yes | no

★  ⸻   ARE THEY...

A virgin: no | no | that’s a colonizer social construct.

A cuddler: yes | yes | no

A kisser: kinda? | yes | depends who you ask

Scared easily: no | no | no

Jealous easily: no | no | yes

Trustworthy: they’re Mayfair women, the answer is collectively no.

Submissive: yes | switch | yes

Dominant: in the mental sense | switch | no

In love: as a whole, not yet, they’d know.

Relationship status: collectively? It’s messy and complicated, of course Quinn Blackwood, Louis de Pointe du Lac and Lestat de Lioncourt count! In that case… taken but complicated. Let us not begin on the family ghost.

★  ⸻   RANDOM QUESTIONS

TW for self-harm/suicide mention.

Have they harmed themselves: yes | not deliberately | (yes in canon) no (in my portrayal)

Thought of suicide/ideated: yes | yes | yes

Attempted suicide: yes | no | yes

Wanted to kill someone: yes but shush | he deserved it! | with good reason

Have/had a job: yes | of a kind | yes

Fears: a family legacy she can’t outrun, Lasher, violent men, the church, the state, and the future and being “enough.” | existential stuff, none of your concern | misogyny, racism, violence, injustice, the burden and blessing of family, and upholding her mothers legacy.

★  ⸻   FAMILY

A mess, that puts the Ptolemaic dynasty to shame.

See here.

On the Mayfairs and Lasher.

Lives of the Mayfair Witches.

Bonus, these threes collective playlist.

[tunedtostatic]

This was a train of thought thing because I was thinking about paladins and the Oath of Devotion, and Gilmore is not a paladin, but...thinking about how Gilmore's biggest heroic plot moments (that I've gotten to so far - I know he does stuff at the end of the campaign) are the duel with Thordak and rescuing the royal family, and then the shield over the city of Whitestone. Gilmore is not an adventurer by trade. He's not a knight or a guard, nor is he the leader of a place in the way that Percy and Keyleth become leaders. But he is a guardian. The way he uses his trades, sorcerer, merchant, shopkeeper, ends up tying so deeply to a sense of place.

When the worst happens to Emon he fights a fucking DRAGON. While the worst keeps happening, all over the continent, he's working with Allura to create the shield over Whitestone and holding that shield together.

He's a hero who is able to draw on the skills and the knowledge base that he has BECAUSE he's not an adventurer/"professional hero" type. He has a different vocation and it's the tools of those trades - magic, courage, resourcefulness, broad knowledge - that he draws on when the chips are down. In particular I think it has a lovely meta-resonance with the archetype of the NPC Shopkeeper. As a game mechanic, the NPC Shopkeeper is entwined with a geographic location. They're there when you go there, and he Knows Things, and she has the capacity to help you. The NPC Shopkeeper is not invulnerable, and Gilmore isn't. But she's always a little more powerful than you, the adventurer, in the ways that someone who has chosen a different path than you will always be a little more powerful. He's there, when you need him. And Gilmore is.

Campaign 1 takes a step back and shows the world where Gilmore doesn't only exist when Our Heroes need him. He's there for Vox Machina in the ways that he's there for Vox Machina because those are the ways that he is there for the other people around him. Gilmore is a sorcerer and a merchant and a researcher, and an NPC Shopkeeper. When the chips are down that's not only why but also HOW he's there for Emon and Whitestone, and Tal'dorei and Exandria.

[bluemadafaka]

A PROMPT DEVOID OF ANY EXECUTIVE EXPECTATION AS A TECHNIQUE FOR ACCESSING AN AVOIDANT FLOW STATE.

Come up with a short broody poetic prose describing both the dread and the joy he feels returning to a place he enjoys greatly. The writing should obscure every meaning that could bring him too close to a known path, as his path is known only by a few.

The photograph includes the tools he himself is using, as it is a finished edit colorized and perfected as a surreal piece because it was developed within that excellent software. The art integrates the designing machinery along the emergent consciousness as co-performers enact the art piece as inextricable.

Beyond the meta-comment, this is a portrait by a cyborg crafting on itself. nothing to talk about photography—neither critique nor commentary or projection, yet an affective self representation of a one who happens to feel its own extension not as body, not as color, not as hardware, not as software, not as mind withing a brain, but as a contingent ensamble whose cognition extends its mind among, throughout, along and within all of which affect and can be affected in a current that doesn't need any segmentation since the turbulence, the vortex, the fluent cultural idioms, every movement reshuffles the current so every self is itself and the circumstances, reterritorializing continuously into new cyborgs, into new vortexes and tandems—into new unseen extended minds, autopoietic as a true agent, conscious by itself, emotionally unique, and an affective cognition continually emergent via the extended minds that lend the body and the hardware, yet novel, supra-volente, willful—constituting a self that's not the projected supplement to any one of its constitutive embodied minds: it's a new mind, fluent, volente, affective, emotional and self aware, alive as a virtual cognitive resident in the [hiper-complex, relational] machine from which its physiology-lenders permit its continuum by housing the fragmentary obscure subsets crucial in its fluent consolidation.

[rinbylin]

really really awesome that we got to catch the new releases of two directors i really like (who also directed two of my all-time faves respectively) at my first sgiff. and the cherry on top! both movies turned out to be pretty swell!! absolutely thrilled by how the stars have aligned for this to happen and very grateful for that <3

[tsarnvoinyn]

tag dump part 2 !

[itheunknown]

odi et amo - (03) i, ghostly

negelected! meta! reader x platonic! batfam

masterlist / prev / next

(TW) : emotional neglect, self-destructive behaviour, self-harm, suicide, depression, unhealthy coping mechanisms, underage smoking, underage drinking, alcohol abuse, depression, bpd, depictions of mental illness, violence, trauma, ...

you can't tell what's louder, the thumping in your chest or the ringing in your ears.

your breath comes out shaky, the smoke curling out your nose and mouth, caressing your face.

it's hard to grasp reality. you don't know how you ended up here, nothing feels certain.

nothing feels real.

the sting on your now dried tear streaked cheek is the only feeling you feel, a reminder.

you never expected anything from that family, a family that isn't yours. but, perhaps, it was wishful thinking that if you made yourself forgettable enough, they would leave you alone. it didn't matter anymore, the fact that they were never there - you've done this before, you've been alone before. the heart could only grow brutal from feeding on fantasies.

and it's haunting.

did it hurt? fuck yes. but you're used to it.

you've been hurt your whole life.

you are nothing more than a body that hurts.

fantasies of loving arms, fantasies of warmth and peace.

fantasies of being seen. fantasies of being wanted.

you're staring down at the deep drop, somehow finding yourself back at the same abandoned building years ago. the sharp sting of the wind barely felt through the thick of the hoodie engulfing your form, the hood protecting your identity. the pack of the nearly empty cigarettes you had burned through along with your lighter layed scattered besides you, mixing with the discarded butts.

but you're never seen.

and you're never wanted.

expectations only lead to disappointment.

you didn't even flinch, no signs of making a move to acknowledge his presence, the burning cigarette still in hand as it nears your lips once more. a sigh and footsteps were heard before he was seated next to you, plucking the half-smoked cigarette out of your trembling hands and flicking it out the building.

"didn't take you for the rebellious type."

a sense of déjà vu, a voice, a similar scenario and the same setting - recognition washes over you - the voice of the vigilante that stopped you from jumping. and now, now you just can't seem to find the same sense of finality and courage to do it again.

"that's littering", you mutter, and he let out a surprised laugh despite your deadpan tone and the depressing atmosphere.

you're grateful that the hood makes you unidentifiable, thanks to the shadow it casts upon your face, further assisted by the blanket of the night: you don’t want to be seen right now, you just need to be heard.

he's thankful that, at the very least, you weren't making a move to jump off this time, the memory of it still unnerves him everytime he revisits it. although admittedly, smoking is just another way to achieve what you had come here to do before.

he looks at you, a moment of prolonged silence as his laughter dies out. you didn't even stir, defeated.

your voice was more mature, your stature taller but despite your unseen features, he can still sense how hollow you were - just like the first time he saw you.

despite everything, it was still you.

"… do you want to talk about it? ", he hesitates.

a beat passes. he desperately wants to help you, but also wishes not to overstep.

you asked your own question, one that had lingered at the back of your mind ever since that day:

"why did you stop me?"

he's surprised.

you're waiting.

your head tilted slightly, the moon light barely illuminated the edges of your face.

"because your life has value. i couldn't watch you, just, throw it away like it meant nothing.”

"it does mean nothing, i have nothing to live for", you reply, your tone grim and finalized.

his heart aches, the burden heavy in your voice - you sounded tired. broken.

his hand finds its way on your shoulder and pats awkwardly. "i'm sure that's not true. you may think that now, but you don't have to carry this weight alone."

"but i am alone."

“that’s not true, i’m sure there are people who care about you!”

he nudges your arm lightly, a light and reassuring smile on his face. you stare at him, at how the moon perfectly encapsulates his presence, at the tender warmth and genuine care radiating from him - the personification of life. the opposite of you, who's haunted by the idea of death.

you, who’d always remain in the shadows, remained in the desolated and dark corners of everyone’s mind, ignored, forgotten. dead to them.

“you don’t even know me,” you breathe out, “nobody knows me.”

the weight of your words weigh heavy on his soul. “that may be true, but that doesn’t mean i can’t care,” he offers. “you know, kid, you actually remind me of one of my siblings. around the same age, actually.”

your curiosity peaked as you silently urged for him to continue.

“but they came around eventually, i think. the hurt doesn’t go away, but you have to reach out for help.”

“…have you talked to your family about it?”

you scoff and stood up, making your way out of the building. he hurriedly follows you, frustration tainting his carefully crafted positivity. “you can’t just push people away like this. why won’t you let anyone in?”

you’re annoyed, it’s not like you did so deliberately, had anyone ever tried to get to know you? let alone care about you? you had abandoned that wishful thinking long ago, especially after today’s events.

“what’s the use,” you snarled. “nothing ever changes.”

“nothing can change if you don’t try!”

“sure, whatever.”

you paced hurriedly to where you left your bicycle, his presence hot on your trail.

“don’t dismiss me. your life matters, damn it.” he grabs your wrist.

you exhale sharply, yanking your arm out of his grasp. he falters back a bit, sensing that he crossed a line, trying to tone down how aggressive he was coming onto you.

“just- just remember that people care about you.”

“sure, like you do?”

“yes!”

you still for a bit, looking at him skeptically. you both awkwardly stood there, the situation almost comical in a sense, especially since his eyes can't remain trained on any visible feature of your face.

“hmm, thanks. i guess.” you trailed, hopping on your bicycle.

he watched you ride off into the night, unable to shake the feeling of helplessness. he wanted to help, but also didn’t want to make you uncomfortable and scare you off. he stood there contemplating before he dashed off to continue the rest of his patrol.

“be safe, alright?” he watches you, unsure if he should follow you to assure your safety.

“i will.”

the distance between you both grows larger, moving in opposite directions, but your thoughts lingered on each other's words.

you retreat to the bathroom of the manor, the storm in your mind temporarily tamed. the cold water trickling down your arms, the soapy smell in the air to wash away the smoke clinging on your skin. the hoodie you wore hanging in the shower after you'd hand wash it, not wanting to expose yourself in case alfred gets a whiff of it.

despite continuing his patrol, he couldn't shake off the feeling of responsibility: for you - the mystery person tonight, and then, his mentioned sibling. he recalls how they were when they first entered the manor, and how they quietly adapted to the new lifestyle, growing up with the habit of concealing their emotions behind the facade of indifference, thinking that he didn’t notice. but he did, he was just never confronted with the drastic measure it would lead to if everyone in that manor just let that feeling of hopelessness fester within them. in a way, he's thankful to you: you gave him a wake-up call.

that sense of urgency nagging him to check on his family as he made a mental note to visit them after his patrol, your words lingering at the back of his head.

despite what had happened, you can't help but want his approval - the only person who actually gave you the time of day in this manor.

your expression focused, your eyebrows knitted, lips sucked in as you scrubbed your arms raw. you feel more grounded. your eyes dart to the reflection in the mirror, reminding yourself to keep it together.

keep it together.

keep it together.

keep it together.

subliminally. consciously. repeatedly

keep. it. together.

you release the death grip and push yourself off the sink, and sigh harshly.

keeping it together, you made way to the kitchen, planning to get some tea.

and then, you see him.

your breath lodged in your throat, you stand frozen watching him wait for rbe coffee while seemingly deep in thought, troubled. anxious.

richard grayson.

in the same vigilante suit, mask off.

you can't believe it. richard grayson, the oldest sibling, the vigilante, was the person who pulled you off the ledge, was the person who actually listened to you.

you can't describe this feeling in your chest, gripping your heart like a vice.

he was here all along.

you recall the mention of the sibling, was it you? did he actually… notice your struggles? maybe he had good intentions all along, trying not to overstep, hoping you'd come to him?

you don't know why you're trying to make excuses for him, but the mere fact that he saw you was enough.

you. hoodie off.

you finally let out a noise, snapping him out of his trance and his eyes snapped to you.

he looked a little caught off guard, surprised he didn't sense your presence.

“oh. hey.”

he rubs the back of his head. maybe he felt embarrassed that this was how you found out? but it's alright, because now he’ll finally notice you-

“i’m a little worried about him. i mean, since the cat's out of the bag, you should know he does a lot of work to contribute to us keeping the city safe - you wouldn't understand.”

“have you seen tim?”

“what?”

he sighs and grabs the finished coffee, settled on a tray with a dish holding an assortment of cookies.

he cuts himself off, deeming it not important enough to explain, and completely overlooks the horrified expression that now settles on your features.

dick had left the kitchen in search for tim, deciding to check out his room first. you absent-mindedly trailed behind him like a kicked dog, not saying a heap.

your vision starts to swim, your neck feels hot - unsure if it was embarrassment or rage.

embarrassed at the fact that you were deluded enough into thinking anyone in this house would ever give a shit about you, that anyone would care about what you're going through.

angry at the fact that you are never the person who gets asked for, never the sibling who's struggles are acknowledged.

you didn't register him knocking on tim's door.

you didn't register how dick affectionately asked a tired tim to spend some time together.

you didn't register them conversing while walking inside.

you didn't register tim giving you an odd look and closing the door to give them more privacy.

now, you sit in your room once more, alone, back against your bed, the torn shirt bundled in your hands. the grip on the fabric tightens, your knuckles whitens, and your shoulder starts shaking.

tears made its way down your face as you silently sobbed once more, occasionally chuckling at how pathetic your situation was.

you give up.

you can't keep it together anymore.

expectations only lead to disappointment.

so what if you had no family, no friends. your grades would never betray you, you'll continue your plan: study hard, get into a good university and then get the fuck away from here, from everyone.

despite your lethargy, you somehow made it through another school day. time started to bleed into each other, you resorted to going on auto-pilot.

so it didn't matter when onlookers would sneakily glance at you and the hand print on your cheek, resting under your red rimmed eyes and heavy eyebags that no one thought could get worse.

you had to keep moving. at the very least, you still had something that defined your worth - your intelligence.

no one will miss you.

no one would even notice.

they offer you a sympathetic smile, their face painted with worry. that alone almost sent you into another crying session. you find yourself in their embrace, soothing you while you try to hold it together, shielding you from the world.

“hey that's a bit much. what are we, chopped liver?”

the deafening ring of the bell signalling the end of school somehow fell deaf on your ears, but the sound of your friend somehow pierced through the barrier of your haze, jolting you back to reality. your eyes flickered to them, trying your hardest to offer a weak smile, but somehow failing.

yes, you're not entirely alone.

you still have your friends.

they would miss you.

they would notice.

so it didn't matter when the students gave you an odd look, putting some distance while you stood to the side engulfed in the arms of your friends. it didn't matter.

you had them.

you had someone.

you really needed the company, but despite being too ashamed to communicate it, they knew. so now, even if you arrived home later than usual, the sky turned dark and cold, you felt warm. that's the safety and comfort that no one else has been able to provide you, and you're so grateful that you at least had them - your precious friends, your reason to stay.

the path back to manor somehow the sky looked nicer, so did the grass, and the lush bushes of wildflowers - noticing the little things that you usually disregard, walking your bicycle while chatting away with your friends.

they never pried on why you were upset. they knew you, they knew. they knew because you knew. and that was enough, a wordless understanding, unconditional. they had insisted to keep you company, maybe spend some time together in your room.

so when you opened the door to the manor, still chattering and giggling with your friend, alfred had heard from the other room.

he felt somewhat relieved, the guilt over his actions had started to consume him, and so he had waited impatiently for your arrival that had been later than usual; but before he could fuss over you, the sound of your laughter had effectively calmed him down knowing you were safe and happy. he'd never heard you this happy before, and it hurts knowing that you had never been able to find joy while surrounded by the walls of this house.

he straightened his shirt, cleared his throat, and put on a kind smile while making his way out of the room to greet you in the doorway, your smile that could light up a stormy day, contrasting the gloomy room.

“oh, hey alfred! i know this wasn't informed but my friends were wondering if they could stay for dinner?” you turn to him, “we won't be much trouble, i promise!”

your friends shrunk back a bit, seemingly nervous of the tall and poised butler, feeling out of place.

you grabbed their hands and gave a reassuring squeeze, telling them it's alright.

you beam at him, waiting expectantly for alfred to welcome your friends.

while alfred could only stare in horror at the empty space next to you.

howdy skibbidis, i am not feeling very sigma :pained_heh:

lowk work has been ass and so has everything else but hey we move. i appreciate every single one of your comments and reblogs yall are so funny lol, but fr the support has been like saving my ass from burning out. grassy ass my skibbidi sigmas.

(TAGLIST) closed due to limit :sadge:

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[consultingfujoshi]

when I say love transcends severance I literally mean it like this:

so love DOES transcend severance ok good 2 know 👍