#urban depression grey

[littlelarajean]

You’re so right there just wasn’t enough FUCKING GREY BEFORE

[the-alternate-realities]

[rowanhoney]

loving my home town a little more lately (there are leaves on the trees again)

[maxwell-grant]

I’ve noticed once or twice among the pulp hero’s a dude with a crystal ball mysterio helmet in a dark suit. I can’t help but notice that what the Orb look is baller, it’s really distinct from other pulp characters he’s getting grouped with. What’s this guys deal and why is he so different from other pulp dudes?

(Meme on the left by Questionposting)

Ethel Knapp, twenty, stood in her furnished room and peered at the gas jet. For ten minutes she had been peering at it, trying to summon the courage necessary to turn it on—without a lighted match above it. She had no money. She had come to Great City from her home in Ohio to work. She had no work. She had no way of returning to her mother and father. But she did have a way of saving herself from further hunger and humiliation. 

The gas jet.

She raised her hand toward it. Startled, she paused. A faint rustling sound came into the room. Looking down, she saw an envelope creeping under the door. She took it up, bewildered, and opened it. Inside lay money— currency held together by a band of silver paper—banknotes totalling $200!

“I can’t bear to see suffering, Angel. I can no more help trying to alleviate it than I can help breathing. If there were any other way of taking money from those who hoard it, and giving it to those who desperately need it—if there were any other way than stealing, I’d take that way. But there isn’t.” - The Sinister Sphere

This is The Moon Man. Moon Man was created by C. Frederick Davies and appeared in 38 stories from 1933 to 1937 and was a cross between The Shadow and Robin Hood, a black-clad urban avenger with a unique costume who stole from the rich to provide for the poor and was viciously hunted by law enforcement and the criminal underworld for it, not helped by the fact that his true identity is that of Stephen Tatcher, the 25-year-old police sergeant and son of the police chief, engaged to the daughter of his worst enemy, a lieutenant constantly trying to get Moon Man in the electric chair.

There's three main things that set The Moon Man apart from the other costumed pulp heroes and Shadow imitators from his day: Number one is that, despite looking a lot like Mysterio, he actually had much more in common with Spider-Man than even The Spider himself, in that he was mostly an ordinary schlub driven to help others who had to constantly pull off precarious balancing acts to keep his job and his secret and his life. 2nd being that he is a far more socially conscious character than pretty much all of his contemporaries, dealing with economic inequality, white collar crime, and grey areas where business practices and law enforcement intermingle with criminality to trample the lower class. He's a Depression-era Robin Hood and the stories are dead serious about it.

And third is that The Moon Man is no gentleman thief or dark avenger: He does none of this for the sake of personal fulfillment or revenge, he isn't tabling fights with gangsters to occasionally do an afterschool special or make a half-hearted gesture at social commentary, this is just what he does as a baseline. He is far less preoccupied with fighting crime than he is saving people in bad circumstances, and the stories are highly preoccupied with the people he saves, and the circumstances that The Moon Man is saving them from. For a weird guy in a creepy mask who goes around in a black coat with a gun in hand, he's an unexpectadly compassionate and soft-hearted (even mopey at times) character.

A chuckle came from the silver‐headed man. “You’ve distributed the money, Angel?”

“Yeah. Got it out right away. And it certainly was badly needed, boss.”

“I know… You realize why I selected Martin Richmond as a victim, Angel?”

“I’ve got an idea he ain’t all he seems to be.”

“Not quite that,” answered the voice that came from the silver head. “He’s quite respectable, you know. Social position, wealth, all that. But there’s one thing I don’t like about him, Angel. He’s made millions by playing the market short, forcing prices down.”

“Nothin’ wrong in that, is there?”, Dargan asked.

“Not according to our standards, Angel; but the fact remains that short‐selling had contributed to the suffering of those we are trying to help. I’ve taken little enough from Richmond’s kind, Angel. I must have more— later."

Dargan peered. “I don’t quite get you, boss. You’re takin’ an awful chance—and you don’t keep any of the money for yourself.”

A chuckle came from the silver globe. “I don’t want the money for myself. I want it for those who are perishing for want of the barest necessities of life. What would you do if you saw a child about to be crushed under a truck? You’d snatch her away, even at the risk of your own life."

“Don’t think I’m questioning you, boss.” Dargan hastened to explain. “I’m with you all the way, and you know it"

"Yes, Angel,” said the Moon Man gently, “I know it. You’re the only man in the world I trust. You know what it is to suffer; that’s why you’re with me”.

The Moon Man lacked much in terms of budget or resources, partially because all of his money went to people in need, and he was under constant threat from the law and underworld alike, each more bloodthirsty than the other in how badly they wanted to mount his Argus helmet on a platter (he didn't even make the helmet himself, he mail-ordered it under his detective arch-enemy’s name). His father is a police chief with a weak heart, which adds an extra pressure to Stephen's secret in that it being revealed will not only lead to his father being fired, but likely dying from shock.

He picks hide-outs with creaky stairs as his main line of defense against intruders, his only line of defense is a gun, he pined over the love of a stubborn lady who initially detested his alter-ego, but eventually learned his secret and grew into a stronger person and even partner as they got engaged. And he only has one other ally he can trust:

He’d gone bad in the ring. A weakened arm made further fighting impossible. He found it just as impossible to find work. He’d drifted downward and outward; he’d become a bum, sleeping in alleys, begging food. Until, mysteriously a message had come to him from the Moon Man. 

Some day Ned Dargan was going to fight again. Some day he was going to get into the ring, knock some palooka for a row, and become champ. And if he ever did, he’d have the Moon Man to thank for it…

His main sidekick from the start, scarred ex-boxer Ned Dargan, was rescued by Moon Man from homelessness and starvation, and he was frequently named “Angel” as it was Dargan’s job to distribute the money, the narrative often filling the reader on the background of the recipients to make them not just anonymous victims, but real people with problems readers in the Depression era would have likely identified with. When we first meet them, Dargan tells him about a steamfitter with a sick daughter who needs money to pay for his kid's treatment, and a pair of kids with a recently deceased mother whose uncles can't afford to take them in and who will go to an orphanage without help, and The Moon Man promises money for all of them.

The main issue with the stories is that they do get a bit repetitive, but they're also fairly short and quick to read, and the strength of the concept, the assertive characters, the compassion, and the class dynamics that usually remain subtext in these kinds of stories, here becomes much of the text itself.

The Moon Man had a remarkable amount of continuity and consistency for a pulp hero, and only picked up more and more enemies that would constantly frame and target him with no additional allies. In fact, circa the end of the run, both his fiancé Sue as well as Angel are well acquainted with the Moon Man’s secret identity by this point and constantly beg Stephen Thatcher to give up his double life, warning him of increasing danger from both the cops and the mob, and in the last story, Blackjack Jury, he's pressured to give up his identity for good by the two and by how precariously his father's job hangs on him being able to capture Moon Man. The story and the character's run ends without revealing what decision he took.

Steve Thatcher lowered his head as though stubbornly to butt an obstacle. A wild scheme— his! He knew it. But, also, he knew the world— cruel and relentless—and he could not stand by and do nothing to save those who were suffering. The mere thought of letting others perish, while nothing was done to save them, was unendurable.

Beyond the written law was a higher one to which Steve Thatcher had dedicated himself—the law of humanity.

And if he were caught? Would he find leniency at the hands of Gil McEwen and Chief Thatcher? No. He was certain of that. Even if McEwen and the chief might wish to deal kindly with him, they would be unable to. The Moon Man now was a public enemy—his fate was in the hands of the multitude. Steve Thatcher would be dealt with like any common crook—if he were caught.

He remembered Ernest Miller’s daughter, who must go to Arizona or die; he remembered Frank Lauder, who must be cared for; he remembered Bill and Betty Anderson, who must have help.

“It’s got to be done!” he said through closed teeth. “Damn it, it’s got to be done!”

He walked swiftly through the night - The Sinister Sphere

The Moon Man is public domain and has seen some usage in modern pulp stories, but (as far as I can find) never really with the same bite that makes these stories appealing, and it's not difficult to see why the character, despite a fairly respectable run and a striking costume, remained mostly obscure. He certainly wouldn't have had any kind of 50s paperback revival without being heavily edited or rewritten entirely just in case somebody was maybe trying to trojan horse any commie talk somewhere, in a character whose main mission statement was addressing economic inequality and getting in trouble with the police over it. And nowadays, with Mysterio being so popular and "Moon Man" taking on a wholly different noxious meaning online, The Moon Man would require a slight overhaul of costume and a complete overhaul of his name, and unfortunately that entails almost making him a different character

The Moon Man stories were adapted into a short comics run circa 1940-42 where they completely overhauled his costume and changed the names, titling him The Raven, but otherwise kept the stories mostly the same. I don't have much of anything to say about him, but there is one additional bit of strangeness that followed The Moon Man's largely unsuccessful transition to comics: The Moon Man was never published in Brazil, but there was a Brazilian superhero in 1962 (which still predates Mysterio) with the exact same name and headpiece. Created by artist Gedeone Malagola who, upon being denied the opportunity to publish his own Phantom stories, simply erased the character’s head, added a cape and used a penny to draw a translucent globe for a head, creating a new hero in turn named Homem-Lua (Moon Man). The character lasted for a couple of years as a back-up on fellow superhero Black Ray’s magazine, before it’s end.

The only detail given about his past is that he was born in Brazil, initially operating near his headquarters in São Paulo before becoming a globetrotter. He lacks explicit superpowers, but is feared by criminals around the world and considered to be an immortal who’s been active for over a century, as many supporting characters in the stories claimed that their grandparents had met the hero. A master of technology who flew around in a personalized jet and was able to call upon the aid of indigenous tribes around the world, who believed him to bear the mark of a godlike entity or be said an incarnation of said entity (as a plot point it's as racist as you'd expect, but also gets a bit funny when you consider how the most famous of moon-themed superheroes this side of Japan, Moon Knight, would pan out 15 years later)

He's mostly a fairly cut-n-dry Phantom clone with some oddities here and there, namely: In one adventure, despite the character being supposedly a human, it was said that all who gaze on his face would die. He was never unmasked in the entirety of his run, and he had no compunctions about executing his villains, whether it was by burying them under a stone idol, breaking dams and letting them drown in the ensuing floods, exploding them, or outright sinking daggers into their chests. It's a very stark contrast to the pulp Moon Man, who preferred to avoid conflict entirely and would only use his gun as a last resort. Ultimately, they bear no official connection, but the strangeness of sharing the exact same name and trademark headgear. It's as if one ends where the other begins.

In some ways, I'd argue the original Moon Man is the purest wish fulfillment pulp hero of The Great Depression, because although eventually he'd take on more bizarre villains, the bulk of his stories are about this regular guy who goes around patching up wounds left by the Depression in a case-by-case basis and (barely) outfoxing and surviving repeated attacks from the powers that be only because he hides his true face from the world. He has no extraordinary abilities or resources, but he makes do as best he can with a ticking time bomb hanging above him.

As unfortunate as the character's present circumstances may be I absolutely think he's got what it takes to be striking and memorable and resonant in ways a lot of his fellow costume avengers aren't, and hey, the guy's public domain, so, if anyone wants to take a shot at reviving him or simply plopping him into a story, add another weird chapter to his history, nothing's stopping you. I simply have to believe there's an audience out there who may fall in love with a well-meaning bleeding heart trying his best who, with nothing but theatrics and smarts and a fishbowl helmet for a head, is driven to fight capitalism instead of Spider-Man.

With a strange, uncanny knowledge the Moon Man selected his victims. Those victims had climbed roughshod to power; some within the law, and others outside the pale. And the Moon Man called on them with a very definite and grim plan— for he walked in the eternal danger of a double menace. If the silent figure had any face at all, it was the face of the man in the moon!

[reasonsforhope]

Catherine Borowski has always had an active imagination. As a child, she dreamed that the car park on her north London council estate would be transformed into a garden. The reality was quite different. “No one had a car, so it was empty, grey and depressing,” she says. Now a sculptor and event producer, Borowski has made it her mission to fill unloved urban spaces with flowers – albeit virtual ones. 

She and her partner Lee Baker are the founders of Graphic Rewilding, a project to install huge nature-inspired artworks into the urban landscape. “Where real rewilding isn’t possible, our goal is to inject the colour and diversity of nature into rundown spaces, urging people to notice – and find joy in – the world around them,” says Baker.   

The pair believe that flowers possess serious powers, even when they’re not real. “We know that spending time in nature is good for us, but studies show that even pictures of plants have a positive effect on the mind,” says Baker. He cites research published in The Journal of Alternative and Complementary Medicine, which found that imagery of plants in hospital waiting rooms can help reduce feelings of stress in patients. 

Baker, a painter and music producer, has long understood the benefits of biophilic design. Having suffered a breakdown 10 years ago, he found that drawing flowers was the only way to soothe his buzzy brain. “I would set out to draw dystopian landscapes, representative of my state of mind, but I’d always end up drawing flowers, which uplifted me,” he says.

It was around this time that Baker met Borowski, joining her production company as creative director. The pair have collaborated ever since, launching Graphic Rewilding in 2021. Since then, they’ve installed floral murals at locations including Earl’s Court station, Lewes Castle and Westfield Shopping Centre in Shepherd’s Bush – all hand drawn by Baker. “We love galleries, but we focus on public art,” he says. “This way, our work is out there for everyone to enjoy.”

This year the pair have grand plans to create a series of stained glass pavilions (think greenhouses with colourful floral-themed panels), which they hope might find homes at Kew Gardens and the Eden Project. “The way light shines through the glass is magical,” says Borowski.  

Even so, they concede that art is no match for Mother Nature. “Some people have suggested that our project detracts from real rewilding efforts. But both can co-exist,” says Borowski. “Of course we want more green spaces.” adds Baker. “But we aren’t gardeners. We’re artists. In the absence of nature, we want to create inspiring spaces through art.”

Overall, the response has been hugely positive. “The joy that these artworks bring is palpable,” says Baker, highlighting an early project in Crawley, West Sussex. “Many people in the town were employed by Gatwick airport and Covid had taken its toll,” he recalls. In a bid to spread some joy, the duo painted brick walls, billboards, benches and even bins with their signature floral flair. “Peoples’ reactions were heartwarming. There were so many smiling faces,” he says.

Elsewhere, in Earl’s Court, the pair transformed “a ratty piece of tarmac” into a modern-day pleasure garden, which is now often filled with children dancing and doing cartwheels on the way home from school. “Putting art into a place that previously felt unloved feels like cultivating joy where there was none,” reflects Borowski. “If something like this had been installed on my estate when I was a kid, it would have been a dream come true.”

-via Positive.News, November 6, 2023

[absolutebl]

Hi!!! I love your blog so much, especially your weekly summaries-- they are just so helpful! I was wondering if you know of any Bls with the military/policemen/fire fighters? I know military service is mandatory in thailand and south korea so I was wondering if there were any Bls that have one the main characters in the military (or police, firefighters etc.) Thanks so so much!

Hi!!! Thank you!

BL BADGE BUNNIES ACTIVATED!

Sure thing. There are a few, not many. Countries with conscription policies (e.g. Korea & Thailand) usually have a defacto ban on realistic/non-positive representation of military service in their media. In other words, BL by its nature (gay in military) stays away from this setting.

BLs in uniform (featuring military/policemen/fire fighter romances)

A Tale of Thousand Stars Thai 2021 YouTube (ranger) - With great casting and cinematography this drama nods at BL tropes but manages to elevate them (and itself) with a strong mature story concept about a spoiled rich kid who gets a heart transplant and becomes a teacher it order to pay out survivor’s guilt. On the way he falls in love with a local park ranger and contends with his own classism and escapist tendencies. Everyone seemed to perfectly suit their roles and GMMTV made the most out of its stable. Combined with excellent production (and post production) values, 1000 Stars is without question GMMTV’s most mature, charming, and smart BL series. I think it should go down as one of the top BLs of all time. I feel safe recommending this one to friends and non BL watchers. HIGHLY RECOMMENDED

HIStory 3: Trapped Taiwan 2019 Viki (cop) - Basically the definition of enemies to lovers from Lin Pei Yu. This is a cop + the mafia man he is chasing but WAIT, they fall in love. Added bonus side couple: assassin and nerd cop ALSO falling in love. It’s great. All the leads are stellar. Its high heat, fun action, and a bit of a mystery drama but pretty about all of it. My only warning is that the main couple doesn’t entirely end up together, it’s implied, but… amorphous ending. HIGHLY RECOMMENDED

Your Name Engraved Herein Taiwan 2020 Netflix? (army, recent history) - This movie is fantastic but it is also seriously depressing, it’s a self acceptance journey, but if you wanna wallow in high quality acting and serious gay drama, this’ll do it. MIXED REC, NOT FOR SPECIFICALLY BL FANS

S.C.I. AKA SCI Mysteries China/Hong Kong 2018 YouTube? (censored bromance, cops) - This is a police procedural with a censored main couple of police investigators who live together basically as husbands, it’s just not talked about. This is one of the first BLs I ever saw (I found their relationship very confusing). RECOMMENDED

Guardian China 2018 grey (censored bromance, cop) - Episodic urban fantasy meets police procedural, one of the most epic long term pinings in the history of long term pinings. RECOMMENDED

Light Taiwan 2021 Gaga (cop) - Ironically titled movie about a street hustler (incest, rape, abuse survivor - all depicted on screen) who falls in (and in love with) an undercover cop. TRIGGERS

Shorts & Sides

A First Love Story Korea 2021 YouTube & Gaga (military service) - Strongberry are true masters of their craft and yet A First Love Story is still one of the best things they have ever produced. It’s the only microfilm ever to make one of my year end top ten list. It’s two episodes of about 8 minutes each that manage to perfectly portray the sweetest friends-to-lovers confession ever. It’s joyful, and gentle with its characters, and a little hot. How on earth do they manage to leave us yearning for more yet completely satisfied at the same time? It’s like the perfect amuse-bouche, that one finger food at that one cocktail party that you will never forget. You are a ridiculous human if you haven’t spent 16 minutes with these two boys. Go watch it now. Or go watch it again. It’s time VERY well spent. HIGHLY RECOMMENDED

Just Friends? Korea 2009 Gaga (military service) - Boyfriends, one of whom is on military leave, trying to decide on coming out and the future. HIGHLY RECOMMENDED

(also one of Korea's first BLs, they would NOT stick to this style, it's way more Taiwan feeling.)

The Immeasurable Taiwan 2021 Gaga (cop) - Police officer falls in love with a student who turns out to be an anti-establishment activist. MIXED REC

DanYok side couple in Not Me (cop)

I've left out bodyguards and historicals (or both).

I've left out the super dark, unhappy, violent, rapey, and pinks, because... I don't like 'em, and you asked me... so...

Now you know why the BL adaptation I want more than ANYTHING is Decedents of the Sun, soldier+healer but GAY? Come on, it writes itself!

(source)

[coldgoldlazarus]

Weird dream:

---

I was wandering around in a combination of a big university building and a small castle. Thought the hallways around someone's office were some impossible geometry, but actually walking it out with measured steps, it lined up.

Wound up sitting at the top of a staircase in a big open area of the building; at the base of the stairs two floors down there was a small kitchen-and-countertop restaurant out of sight directly below me, and a ton of tables with umbrellas on a sort of indoor boardwalk, overlooking a big pool tucked into the corner of the building.

As I watched, some little kid with floaties on wound up going too far to the deep end of the pool and started drowning; I shouted that this was happening and people started panicking trying to reach the kid, but a sea serpent came out of a grate in the wall and deposited the kid back on the edge of the pool first.

A little while later, a really gorgeous woman with navy blue hair in a hime cut came up the stairs, still dripping wet despite being fully clothed, and I put together that she was that sea serpent, wasn't she?

And then the dream temporarily left my POV; our meeting at the top of the stairs was framed and rendered like an extremely detailed manga cover or splash page; with the title The Secret Dragon up at the top.

Through Sourceless Dream Knowledge, I suddenly had the context that this prestigious magic academy, in an urban-ish fantasy world where dragons were an extremely endangered species, had a superstition that each generation there would be a dragon secretly in attendance as a student. But if anyone found out, they would immediately destroy the school and flee. (An incident that had occurred once before, nearly a hundred years ago.) But the protagonist that I had been inhabiting, not even considering the consequences of her new knowledge, still immediately promises to keep the dragon girl's secret, leading to an odd strangers-to-lovers dynamic.

(Dangit, now I really wanna read that!)

---

There was also something about working in some sort of packaging facility or something? It was super bleak and depressing aesthetically; light grey walls and tiled floors, and bright glaring flourescent lights that hurt my eyes. But I was taking random items from big boxes on a pallet, and packaging them up individually and putting them on a set of rollers leading through the wall to an adjacent room.

But then I found some things to package that got me really excited - an unfamiliar Kopaka set in a very G2-ish box, and seperately, a new Bionicle comic to go with it. One of the other people working there was also a Bionicle fan, and I immediately called them over so we could take a few moments to excitedly freak out over this first glimpse at a new Bonkle generation.

---

This bit I remember a whole lot fuzzier than the rest, but it was like, myself as a little kid again? And some of my classmates from when I was younger, maybe? All sitting in a really dark, kinda spooky classroom with dark brick walls and a kinda claustrophobic desk layout; a middle aisle and then rows of three desks on each side; the room was narrow enough that the third desks were right up against the walls.

The teacher was absent; there was just a cart in the middle of the aisle with a projector; the projector's light on the whiteboard was the only light on in here, as I used that to find my seat. The projector wasn't even playing anything; just blank white, so after a bit of waiting, everyone just wound up talking among ourselves. This part was the part that took up the bulk of the scene, but I can't for the life of me remember what it was we were talking about now. :/

---

Something really vague about being in the car with my family, driving up the north-south freeway through the middle of town, talking about something or other, but again I don't remember what was discussed here.

---

Sourceless dream knowledge: VIZ Media apparently announced that they've commissioned three new RWBY projects. Another 2D anime from a Japanese studio in the style of Ice Queendom, set to release in 2027; Volume 10 (and a general continuation of the show) in Maya under a new dedicated studio made up mostly of CRWBY members, set to release in 2026; and a shorter miniseries (not character shorts, apparently; a sidestory focusing on a new cast, chronologically ambigouous in relation to the main series) also in Maya, set to release in 2025.

I was watching a handful of clips from this miniseries project that were shown along with that announcement, trying to theorycraft and stuff, though there were only three or four shots to go off of, and now I only really remember two of them. The first one was apparently super memorable and dramatic but I can't remember it now which is annoying.

But the second one was super interesting in its own right; it was a swooping action shot following one of these new characters through a tall, narrow hallway filled with miniaturized Tempest Grimm. She looked kinda like Neo, but she definitely wasn't her, (theories abound about this being her Ascended form) bouncing off the tops of the Tempests and doing all sorts of acrobatic contortions to leap through the swarm, and then using her umbrella to shield herself from any Tempest tentacles that tried to grab at her. The shot did a dramatic slow-mo for a bit where she was floating along Mary Poppins style, and a Tempest came down on her umbrella from above; only for her to use the gun (because of course) built into the umbrella handle to shoot straight up through it and kill it before it could weigh her down.

Then the final (idk if it was third or fourth, but it was the last) shot kinda harkened back to post-Trailer character reveal card for RWBY; but instead of four vertical columns; this started as a single four-sided diamond shape in the middle of the screen, that then opened up like a fan or peacock tail into four diamonds of different colors, that the character silhouettes then faded into each.

Sorta like this, though idk if I'm remembering the colors right.

---

I think there were some other bits near the start that I'm forgetting, and maybe something else after the RWBY thing, but they're probably lost to time now. Still, lots of interesting stuff in what I do remember, and maybe a new story idea too.

[the-clawtake]

Jehan came too with a fit of coughs that would have had him bent double if it weren’t for the four-point harness holding him in the command chair of his Kodiak, and a sensation of overwhelming agony. He shook his head to clear it, hearing dimly a faint clinking or tinkling as he did. That couldn’t be good. The last thing he remembered was a Blakist Highlander. It had gone over the top of the low warehouse. Lacking jump jets, he had gone through it, and...

Oh. Basement. He blinked. Well, at least the roof hadn’t fallen on him. Between the PPC hit earlier in the fight, and the missile volley his cockpit had caught the fringe of, he’d been fighting without a ferroglass canopy; not ideal, but Blakist resistance had been stiffer than had been expected, and while the Capital Grade Particle Cannon that was – had been – the central focus of this AA battery could not depress low enough to engage ground targets, the Missile and Flak batteries could. The Clawtake could not afford to have an Assault ‘Mech withdraw, and so he had stayed. Until he fell.

He glanced at the various readouts, all dark. Nothing showed on the HUD visor of his Neurohelmet. Experimentally, he flipped the ignition toggle. Nothing. Again. Nothing. Well. That was that then, he was out of the fight. He raised his gaze to peer through the hollow gap where his canopy had been. Maybe not as out of the fight as he thought. It appeared some Blakist Purifiers had decided to make sure of the job, and one of them was just turning towards where he was.

Reaching down the side of his chair, he pulled the release on the strap holding his Wolverine. His was the bullpup variant designed for urban fighting – or Mechwarriors who needed something compact in case they had to eject behind the lines. Pulling it to his shoulder with a grunt of pain, he reached back down for a magazine, feeling the markings embossed on the surface until he found the one marked for armour-piercing rounds, slotting it into place with a click. Then he settled back and flicked off the safety.

An armoured claw hooked over the lip of the cockpit, and then a helmet like a grinning skull. Jehan sighted along the barrel and emptied the magazine into the visor as quickly as he could account for the recoil. The first few impacts accomplished nothing beyond making the armoured trooper rear back, but before it had much of a chance to react one of the tungsten-tipped rounds punched through and the huge figure slumped, the tiny hole in it’s helmet oozing red and grey.

Jehan reached for another magazine, reloaded, and then slapped his harness release. Harness loose, he twisted round and disconnected the leads for his neurohelmet and cooling vest. Reaching around behind the chair, he grabbed the survival kit, dragged it loose, and then froze. He recognized that hum. Ducking low, he hunched as close to the floor of his cockpit as he could. The hum gave way to the roar of hyper-velocity flechettes and a ringing in his ears. As the roar gave way, he peeked carefully over the edge of his cockpit. So. His Guardian Angel had a HAG. Good to know. He pulled himself from the cockpit, grimacing as shattered ferroglass scraped his bare legs, and scrambled off the Kodiak, onto the rubble of the collapsed warehouse.

Slipping into some cover, he removed his helmet and vest and dug into the survival kit. The jumpsuit went on first, over the rest of his uniform. Then the belt, with the holster for his Wolverine and a Shrike, and the long-bladed hunting knife. Next was the radio. Twisting the knob till he found the right frequency, he hit transmit.

“Clawtake Units, Clawtake Actual. Sitrep.”

“Aff, Star Colonel.” He breathed a sigh of relief at Rauda’s voice. “Fire Star, three effectives. Striker Star, zero effectives. You are the only ineffective in Battle Star. OpFors in retreat or disabled, no pursuit. Battery reduced.”

“Aff. Request pick up.”

Another voice came in on the channel; Jorge in his Dire Wolf.

“Star Colonel. Suggest rendevouz. I am due east of your position, immediately adjacent to the warehouse.”

It took several minutes for Jehan to get himself out of the basement, and to climb the technican’s ladder to the Dire Wolf’s access hatch, but eventually he settled into the jump seat. Peering over Jorge’s shoulder, he considered the results of the engagement.

The Shadow Cat was a write-off. Something had set off Lasse’s ammunition, and the combination of Inferno and High Explosive warheads meant there was nothing to salvage. Both Stormcrows and the Black Hawk needed either significant repair work or new gyros. The Mist Lynx would probably be fine, once the water was drained. He remembered seeing Shagufta go through the ice trying to outflank the Blakists – She would be fine, her cockpit hadn’t been breached and so she avoided hypothermia and the water was fairly shallow. The Dragonfly was also probably a write-off. It had taken significant damage to both arms, and had been cored by a well-placed gauss slug from the Blakist Highlander.

Tapping Jorge on the shoulder, he waited for the young Warrior’s attention.

“I need a channel to Command.”

“Aff.” a moment later “Channel open.”

“Touchdown Actual? Clawtake. Reporting Battery RANGER reduced. Clawtake at 53% effectiveness. We will require reinforcement or repair before we can further engage Blakist forces.” His piece said, he slumped in his jump seat. There was nothing to do now but wait.

[dr-catherine-sherman-owens]

The Other Catherine

A non-cannon Tumblr Town story...

The foundation never mourned. It wasn't how they functioned; it was more useful to them not to "waste time" on such things. But now, I didn't work for them anymore. I don't think I ever learned how to mourn. So I decided to do the one thing I did whenever I wanted to learn something : research.

I had looked up everything on the topic online that I could find, read books from the library, and much more. I learned how people mourned their loved ones through history, from the sarcophaguses of the ancient Egyptians, to the mourning chairs of the 1860's, to the flowers of today. I had become morbidly fascinated with the topic... but there was one thing left to do. I hadn't seen any of it for myself.....

It was a Friday night, around a little before 9 pm. Late enough so people wouldn't question where I was, but early enough that I wouldn't be trespassing. I walked through the rows where there was grass instead of flowers so I wouldn't disturb anything. It was surprisingly calm for an area deemed terrifying by pop culture and urban legend. But then I saw something that made me do a double take. A grave, incredibly dusty without a single flower surrounding it. The only word that was visible on the grave shook me : Catherine. I carried just about anything on me, a habit I had picked up working for the foundation, allowing me to have a small dry sponge in my pocket. It wasn't much, but it would work to clear the dust......

My suspicion was incorrect. I sighed in relief as I saw the last name, quite different from my own. Clearing more of the dust, I found the dates : 1929-1965. She had lived through the Great depression, WW2, and the Civil Rights Movement.... After my visit to the graveyard, I still found myself curious about this woman. What I found online about her was quite sorrowful. She had found her eldest brother dead when she was 17 and wasn't able to do much in her life. I felt pity for the poor lady, despite me not knowing anything else about her.

That's when I started a strange habit. I continued to visit the graveyard on Friday nights, going to her grave and keeping it clean and nice looking. I left flowers for her despite the fact that she was a dead stranger. After about a month, there were a little over 20 flower plants that I had left for her. Curious things had started happening to me after that month. At first, I thought they were coincidences or luck. But they got more frequent and larger. Just missing a wet floor that had no sign to alert others, going out of a bedroom muttering about a lost item and coming back into the bedroom to find what I'd lost on the bed. I had started to wonder what could have caused this.... after all, I had many experiences with being that could cause things like this back at the foundation....

It took until the 2nd Thursday of the month to find out. May 9th, 2024. I went into my bathroom to find a message clear as day written within the fog of the mirror : "Thank you for keeping my resting place tidy and floral. - Catherine Grey."

@the-belle-siblings

[vestigialpersonality]

6 Songs - Keres

Doing separate pre- and post- tadpole for The Inevitable since his life was drastically redefined with the brain scrambling, long-term disabilities, and, well, everything. Plus some people only read only one side of the action or the other.

Meet The Inevitable (pre-tadpole), also known as Keres, Chance, Nuisance, Thomas, Sterling, Crane, Riot, Lily.....the list goes on. Chance is the closest thing he has to a name, the only one he ever picked for himself that wasn't just another mask. He is a man of many faces and is sub-optimally dual classing as a Cleric/Bard (he got good rolls, screw point-buy). I associate him with depressing jrock. I'm making an active effort to pick a variety and not just link the entire Kokyu album by Lily Chou-Chou despite the fact that it, specifically, is what helped me define him as a character.

picrew here

Other Song Selections: Post-Tadpole and Garrett

1) An event that defines your character's past

自殺願望 (Suicidal Desire) by Dué le Quartz

If our fleeting time together withers away I hope it turns into a flower that keeps giving you love. If my body could rise up and become a beautiful rain and carry the gentleness left behind all the way to you.

Leaving home to become something new, with nothing but ashes in his wake.

2) How your character sees themselves

記憶 (Memory) by See-Saw

The memory pooling into the empty shell of my body is shaping and filling me up a little at a time That is the way humans take shape by stashing the feelings they don't want to forget in their hearts

A perpetual inability to let go and move forward. His family, his friends, every single life he's taken, are marked permanently on his skin so he cannot escape them.

3) How others view them

Beast of Blood by Malice Mizer

Along with the scream from the death throes Sharp claws are shining brighter Dually obscene breaths continues And rips apart the silence of the night

This is more of an encapsulation of his urban legend that has circulated through Baldur's Gate since the late 1470s than a perception of him specifically.

4) Their closest relationship (platonic or romantic)

青道 (Blue Road) by STANCE PUNKS

It's up to the individual to stop or go The weak-hearted will collapse there Throwing away all shame We continue to walk this path

Hopeful, but also violent and off-key. A risk to everyone around him. The sentiments definitely evolve greatly over time, but I wanted to give him a good moment in this list instead of just depression. I specifically picked the live version because the extra scratchy vocals and the mosh pit view fit better than the studio recording. The relationship started as Experiment in Love by Lily Chou-Chou and ended as The Final by Dir en Grey. I'll give you three guesses as to who this is about and the first two don't count.

5) A major fight scene Again, interpreting this as his personal boss fight music.

翼をください(Give Me Wings) from the All About Lily Chou-Chou OST

What I dreamed of when I was a kid. I still have the same dream in my heart.

I realized only while trying to find this link that Evangelion apparently did this in 2.0. Oops. But they used a piano arrangement instead of acapella.

6) End credits song

エーテル (Ether) by Lily Chou-Chou

I was trapped without being able to escape If my cracked, sleeping heart is connected The Ether will revive Revive

This is unequivocally the end of his story, the last days of the first half of his life. It's been his final song since the day I started drafting any pre-tadpole fics.

[jumpdingus]

I was looking at the sunrise

The way the light reflected off the clouds and into my retinas

The warm reds, pastel pinks, lively oranges and comforting yellows.

The way I knew that they sky was only absorbing the dark colors I couldn't see.

And I thought 'Wow, isn't the world beautiful?'

I looked down urban jungle

The way the colors reflected off the buildings and the smoke and into my retinas.

The cold blues, bleach whites, depressing purples, and sad greys.

The way I knew the colors were simply what was left after the urban cold swallowed up the rest of the colors that I could see.

I thought 'Wow. Isn't that saddening?'

[nightmare-the-cat]

Crimson Wings

An AU where Hunter successfully kills himself and Belos in TFTM- only to wake up in hell.

Yeah. Yeah this is Hazbin Hotel Hell

Will there be a continuation? Maybe. Is this depressing as fuck? Yes. Is Hunters name mentioned even once in this? No.

Proceed at your own risk

Flit

A streak of red and white darted across the blood soaked street. One would assume it to be a trick of the light, if it wasn’t followed by two foreboding streaks of grey. On this day, they were abundant, striking down anyone that caught their gaze.

The chase was on it seemed. Some poor soul was attempting to flee the Exorcist’s wrath, woefully unaware that superior speed had yet to save anyone. Those hiding among the crevices of the urban hellscape dared not interfere, but only those with the blackest of hearts didn’t pity whoever the victim of the demented chase was.

He just kept flying, panic blinding his sense of direction. The poor boy had nary a month after his manifestation to even understand the dreaded Extermination was on the horizon. He’d been unprepared, hiding out in an abandoned estate when the Exorcists descended, only to be discovered mere hours later, trembling in a corner as the holy executioners circled in.

So he did the only thing he could do, what he had been doing near constantly every day since his death.

He fled.

His speed and experience with evading others mid-flight were his saving graces, dodging every wayward attack thrown his way as he struggled to ditch his pursuers. It would be an impressive show should anyone have been observing, expert dives and weaves like the demon had been born to fly.

Still, pure skill in the air wouldn’t keep him alive forever, he already had a few scrapes from near-misses. Thirty minutes in he was running out of steam, while his pursuers seemed limitless, slowly gaining on him while his wings strained to stay ahead.

So, when he saw a break in the storm of violence that was the Extermination, he took the opportunity and dived, holding his arms up in front of him after he aimed for a window in the near pristine manor below.

CRASH!

The small sinner didn’t waste time popping back up on his feet after the impact, frantically taking in every detail of the cavernous room he’d broken into. Cold coloration framing oddly plain marble doors made the space feel even more hollow than it already was, empty of any decoration or furniture. Dread pooled in the young demons stomach as a panicked check of one of the doors revealed they were locked.

“Ah, you have to love it when the prey corners itself!” One of the exorcists crooned in a high voice, making Hunter tremble as he turned to watch the pair of angels casually slink inside using the window he’d just broken. “Aww, cute, he thought the Fallen One would be stupid enough to leave ANY doors unlocked during the Extermination”

The blondes crimson wings flared, falling into the familiar stance of self defense as one of the Exorcists approached, the mouthy one guarding the only exit. He couldn’t go down without fighting-not again.

A slamming door interrupted the confrontation, light cutting through the gloom, and all three beings snapped their heads towards the newcomer.

“Did you jokers break my window AGAIN!?” An oddly performative voice cut in, the owner looking little more than frustrated despite the carnage going on outside. “How many times do I have to tell you the manor is off limits to you bloodthirsty little cretins?”

“We weren’t the ones who broke the window, sir” the quieter Exorcist hissed, jabbing her spear towards the cowering sinner, stopping just short of piercing his throat. The blonde winced as the blessed metal tip then pressed into the underside of his chin, refusing to break his terrified stare towards Lucifer as his head was forcefully tilted upward. “Don’t worry, I’ll make this quick-“

“Not in here you’re not! I’m the one who’ll have to clean that up” the king of hell snapped, before jabbing the apple head of his cane at the broken window. “Just-get out of here, I can dispose of this one myself”

“Sir-“

“That wasn’t a request- GET OUT” the demon ordered, dropping the aloof tone, and both Exorcists scrambled for the broken window in a panicked haste.

Lucifer Morningstar, for what it was worth, planned to make the intruders execution quick. Many came to his manor expecting mercy before, back when the yearly Exterminations first began, and in a sense they got it. Being instantly obliterated was a better option than bleeding out on the pavement-but the message was clear; Lucifer would not spare any sinner, survival was up to them.

Still, he occasionally got the odd straggler who’d plea for Sanctuary, and at this point he’d heard it all when it came to his “subjects” begging for mercy.

He’d spared none.

Even with all that experience dealing with the scum of his “kingdom”, he was woefully unprepared for this particular intruders reaction when he turned on him.

“No-no, I’m sorry-I was just trying to get away-“ the sinner stuttered, trembling as Lucifer approached, tears forming in his panicked magenta eyes as he fell to the ground. “The bells-The light in the sky-they just came down, started killing everyone! I don’t want to die again, please-“

Lucifer stopped short as the sinner’s begging dissolved into genuine crying, his words becoming indistinguishable among the sobs.

None before him had done that-cried so genuinely. Sounded so confused about the Extermination-even though the date was so heavily broadcasted throughout Pride as the day drew near.

“Are you slow or something?” Lucifer found himself asking, startling the crying sinner quite badly. The tears didn’t stop, but he seemed to be trying to process the question.

“W-what?”

He was scarred.

“You’ve clearly been through an Extermination before, this isn’t fresh” Lucifer pointed out, using the end of his cane to poke at the thick, old scar on his cheek. “Got amnesia or something?”

The small sinners hand ghosted over the old wound, shivering as he looked back outside.

“Not them-I don’t know them” was all he said, wiping the remaining tears away as best he could, taking on an empty smile. “I guess he was right though-nothing I did mattered in the end”

He started laughing.

“I mean-I didn’t see him when I woke up, he’s probably still up there!” He cackled manically, holding his forehead as a wide, disturbed smile finally broke out across his face, stumbling to his feet as he continued to laugh, staring out the window. “He’s probably already doing something like this back home-all because I couldn’t even drown myself properly-“

Lucifer stepped back as the sinner suddenly turned on him, not knowing what to make of anything he was spouting off about. None before him had expressed such genuine regret-ever turned to face him, or their own sins, without excuses.

“I ran from what I rightfully deserved, just because I stupidly thought I could get out, fix my mistakes, save the ones who cared about me….” He was slowing down, the laughter turning into something far more pained. Despair, lifetimes worth of it, echoed in what he said next, the young demon stepping back, bowing his head. “I’m sorry- even now I’m delaying what should have come my way long ago”

He dropped to one knee.

“Please-I deserve no mercy”

His voice was empty now.

“Everything was a mistake”

[preacherhannes]

[ misha collins | he/him ] Another face is seeking safety in New Orleans. Make sure to welcome HANNES DAYMON to the home of the resilient. Rumor has it that they are an 48 year old FAIRY , who is one of the RETURNED but we’ll keep that a secret. They are said to be ANXIOUS, but that’s all a façade to cover up their CARING nature. We’ve heard that they can be found listening to TOO SWEET by HOZIER, which sums them up pretty well. Let’s hope that they can find a way to survive this harsh new world.

BASIC INFORMATION

FULL NAME :  Hannes Andrew Daymon

NICKNAME(S) : Han

DATE OF BIRTH : July 24th

ZODIAC SIGN : Leo

RELIGION : Catholic

PHYSICAL INFORMATION

HEIGHT : 5'10

EYE COLOUR : Blue (almost grey)

HAIR COLOUR : Brown

DOMINANT HAND : Right

TATTOO(S) :  ‘Shine Until Tomorrow’ on his left wrist

SCAR(S) : Multiple from childhood incidents

PIERCING(S) : N/A

GLASSES : Yes, Rectangular black rimmed

BACKGROUND INFORMATION

CURRENT RESIDENCE : New Orleans, Louisiana

LANGUAGE(S) :English and some German

PARENT #1 : Anne Davis

PARENT #2 : Daniel Daymon

SIBLING(S) : N/A

CHILDREN : N/A

PET(S) : Blue Bay Shepherd named Obsidian

VICES + HABITS

SMOKES? : No

DRINKS? : No

DRUGS? : Nope

VIOLENT? : Not unless he has to be

ADDICTION(S)? : N/A

SELF-DESTRUCTIVE? : Not particularly

HABIT(S) : Rubbing hands on face when stressed, rubbing hands together, knee bounce for days, rubbing back of neck when anxious. Tends to touch people without asking

HOBBIES : Singing, listening to music, being around people and playing.

LIKES : Family, mysteries, intimacy, tattoos, urban exploring, road trips, snow, movies/books, crystals, runes, tarot cards, baking

DISLIKES : Pain, being inured, heartache, rain, closed spaces, crowds, escape rooms, getting lost, talking during movies.

MEDICAL HISTORY : Anxiety, depression.

July 24th, 1974, Hannes Daymon was brought into the world, kicking and screaming. He wasn’t exactly a planned child, as his parents didn’t really have the funds for another human in the world, but they did their best with what they had. He began his first few years in a small, one bedroom trailer home. While it was cramped, Hannes never really minded too much. In fact, he loved how cramped they were, because that meant he was always getting attention from his parents when they weren’t asleep, or working. Things changed for the better when Hannes' father became a preacher when Edward was 5 years old. They were able to exchange the trailer for a real, normal two bedroom house. To say that little Hannes was excited would have been an understatement at that time. Sure, he would miss the closeness and always having his parents at least two feet away from him at all times, but he finally has his own room and enough space to put a swing set and maybe a small above ground pool. What more could a boy want? Growing up, Hannes became the popular kid in high school and even college. But he wasn’t the typical ‘plastic’ boy. He was just way too kind to others (and got taken advantage of multiple times) and that made him popular with just about everyone. Graduating highschool with straight A’s and B’s, he entered college with the hopes of getting a certification to become a veteranarian. But that almost immediately switched when he found out what he would have to witness on the way to being a vet. So, he switched to his second option; becoming a preacher just like his father. Luckily, the college offered all the classes he needed to be certified and Hannes passed them with flying colors. Skipping ahead to his adult years, he met a woman who he thought he loved. He gave his whole world to her, even married her, but it just didn’t work. There was something else he needed in his life that his wife just couldn’t give him. He’d started to fall for one of his male coworkers, but the coworker soon broke his heart in two when he chose another person to be with. He soon figured that it probably wasn’t too fair to his wife to be leading her on, so with a mutual agreement for a divorce, the preacher moved into New Orleans in hopes of finding true, unadulterated love.

[liquidlikecats]

ID: a simplistic digital drawing of vincent valentine. he is facing forward, face half hidden in his cape and expression passive. it is underlaid with a picture of a grey, urban background. white text in the windows movie maker font reads: "I've got to take my anti-depressants". end ID

[env0writes]

Passive Ingression 1.21.23 “Go Out and Play in the Urban Jungle, Jim!”

   Through outstretched arm-far-fences, I hear my neighbor say,    “Go play outside” in the hale mid-forty California overcast    Where streets match heavy schemed colors, decay    Desolate are new deserts children find, unlike the past

   Concrete mixers may make for desserts off the highway    Far from trusted limbs to trustingly break my fall    This asphalt is not the fault for the famished desert, grey    The streets are not for blue’d jays, walking head raised tall

   The wasteland hides more life than streets First to Eighth and East    Saturated fat, full on leaden hues the township port-forwarded    Wasteland vipers have the decorum and decency of manners before a feast    As venomous or poisonous gives warning, “I will make you dead”

   Doe-eyed solitary stags succumb like solitary solitaire cards    “Sorry for the future, kid. It wasn’t always made this way” I’d wish to tell    High climb the fences’ unblinking eyes and security guards    Outside, where rain stings and horns blare with lights to Valhalla swell

   Stars used to be for wishing, as blinding as a lamp post    Washing out the wishing well of night with liquid-light bleach    Seasonal depression diagnosed

@env0writes​ C.Buck   Ko-Fi & Venmo: @Zenv0 Support Your Local Artist!   Photo by @env0​

[potatoo-whump]

*Tests you* tell us about your oc!

*inhales* OH BOY!

Okay so, Dante (and all of our other ocs) are part of this giant OU that me and my partner made and,,, it's big,,, and expansive,, we've been working on this story for over a year so there's a lot jfjfj

Read more cause long post, tw for child abuse, molestation mentions, suicide attempts and a lot of fucked up shit

In the main OU, we like to experiment with different ideas, is an urban fantasy world with a fuck ton of creatures (non-humans are called "monsters" because... racism). Dante is a werewolf, which unlike in popular culture isn't "masquerading" as a human, werewolves are simply that,,, wolf men. They're very hairy, have wolf ears and tails, inhanced hearing and sense of smell, a wolf form and a stereotypical "full-moon form" where they turn into what most people think of a werewolf. There's also a lot of different types of werewolves like there's different types of wolves, grey werewolves are the most common, but there's also artic werewolves, desert werewolves, etc etc.

Dante is a direwolf, a kind of werewolf that is... very largely extinct (due to monster hunters, who find and kill any monster they come across due to a lot of reasons, religion, plain old sadism, trying to make the world better through very fucked up bad means etc) except for some large families/packs, direwolves tend to get,,, fucking massive,, normal heights being around 6'2-6'5 with a lot of muscle mass... but Dante is not that height jfjr

Dante was born in 1957 in Sicily, to a horribly abusive father, and a mother that abandoned him at birth to save her own skin from said father. Werewolves, while the government didn't encourage hunting them, were still thought as heartless monsters instead of people, so there wasn't the laws to protect him from.. horrible abuse. Dante spent his first few years with his father's side of the family, mostly cause Dante's father was too "immature" to take care of a newborn baby turned toddler. And it was when he was 4 where he got practically tossed back at his father so he would "learn responsibility"... which backfired horribly cause all that it resulted in was horrfic abuse.

From the very beginning, when Dante got given back to his father, he didn't get a bed, he slept in the closet with a hard old pillow and a moth eaten blanket. With no toys or friends or anything. Locks on his "bedroom" door and on the pantry.. and the only side of the family he knew, his father's side, did nothing but make up excuse after excuse for his father while he was abused.

His extended family did love him, but not enough to help him, ignoring the abuse and thinking it would get better.

His father cut off his pinkie finger when he was 6,,, which is an ow

When he was 8, his father pushed him into being a choir boy for the church, as all of their family is deeply catholic, which lead to him spending a very very large amount of alone time with a not great priest.. who ultimately molested him for years until he outgrew the position and spent a lot less time with the priest. But also at that time, Dante learned about something way too early for his age..

He learned about death. He learned about it when one of his aunts died of an overdose and when a 16 year old girl killed herself by jumping off a bridge.. and Dante.. tired and depressed despite being so young.. climbed to the highest story of his grandmother's house,, opened the window and tried to jump. Only to get snagged at the waist by his uncle, who pulled him back inside and held him while he sobbed

Dante tried though,,, he tried again and again, and everytime he failed.

His father pulled him from school when he was 9,, so poor man never got past 5th grade

He tried when he was 12 by swallowing whatever pills he could find,, only to wake back up

When he was 13 he started going to parties... a lot of parties with drugs and alcohol and a bunch of things a depressed 13 year old shouldn't have

He got addicted to coke,,, and then lost his virginity when he was 14 to a guy who was almost 18

Another attempt when he was 16 by slitting his wrists, which didn't work either he didn't cut deep enough

Then when he was 23 he sleeps with a women for once (he's very gay,,, he was experimenting) and accidentally got her pregnant... whoops.

This women is Elisabetta... she's a cunt,,, another abusive bitch who gave him.. more trauma

Let me know if you want more, he still goes to prison, has his kids hate him for something he didn't do, and have two more attempts left jfjfjf and this is just one character we have so much-