headcanon: when aaravi both feels safe enough and has people who genuinely care about her/encourage her and can genuinely excite her and make her feel happy, she gets wiggly. not just in being unable to sit still in her head, but also in terms of flappy hands, constant need to move around, getting up and pacing, touching and grabbing other people, getting even louder, exaggerating her movements and emotions even greater, and generally just doing everything she can to try and shake out all of the excess electric energy that she suddenly feels coiled up inside of her and doesn't know how to deal with.
its fairly uncommon due to all the usual reasons (having to forcibly repress her emotions, fear of rejection and abandonment, people lashing out at her due to the specific way she shows joy, people just outright hating aaravi and not letting her have this happiness), but if someone's lucky enough to experience that from her it feels like sitting in a ray of sunshine just to see her happy.
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TYPE GUIDE
crawls out of a wreck
flickering monochrome flames
a crashed rocket ship
the sort of vessel
you’d expect to see plunging
into the moons eye
chiming bells clanging
see inside the porthole wails
hear the sirens tale
somewhere far away
over the crook of nightfall
past the glowered orbs
can you hear the sound
hearts of galaxies crying
weeping milk and light?
a warbling codex
of hazed phonological
representation
in a meager pouch
she keeps back spacers, delete keys,
portable jawbone
she’s often survived
on nothing but nibs and pens
she pisses in black
guilty of murder
the blood of a typewriter
all over her hands
it put up a fight
small holes from its many teeth
have scarred her knuckles
feels them vibrating
waiting to be born again
hiding their magic
landed in these bleak
heaps of disposed exertions
stinking of sadness
almost anything
half worth its paper thin weight
must pass through here first
junkyard of heroes
bulky mounds of shabby capes
discarded face masks
pits of rotting verse
unwritten compendiums
illusionist meat
this is where the itch
lays down to give up the ghost
or to become one
a schloop in the muck
things moving every which way
under hero rubbish
there are faint voices
coming from under the heaps
cheesy pulp maxims
cannibal critics
lurking in the damp rubbish
surviving on quips
first degree weasels
these are true soul sucking finks
deep throated golfers
serpent headed thumbs
that come slurping out of holes
slack faced jowls snapping
all they want to do
is suck every golden drop
of hope and beauty
she gets it, she does;
her great thirst of purpose
wants to be fed too
it wants paper planes,
velvet curtain recitals,
and warm warm biscuits
it wants a coastline
coiled around a summer field
like a mama cat
these inhuman finks
each have human like mouth holes
muttering slogans
offering her vast
schmoozing book deals for sex dates
hard-ons in Dockers
she escapes their coils
but just as she’s on her feet
one snatches her hand
strikes like a viper
latches her left hand with its teeth
and rips it clean off
retreats with is prize
they fight over it like dogs
snarling dumb lackeys
her stump is gushing
rich fountains of black and red
memories and pain
those who knock you down
they can barely stand themselves
this she knows is true
she gets to her feet
and clutching her jetting stump
she struggles to walk
they’re coming again
these jaw snapping slithering
bastards on her heels
an unsettled storm
inside her deepest nowhere
something is coming
gurgling bellows
even the weasel finks stop
at this ugly noise
her belly tightens
the skin visibly shudders
rippling in waves
there is pulsating
subsurface neoplasm
under her belly
the retching comes fast
sick with too many dark dreams
giving birth to void
it pushes upward
feels like her chest will explode
pressing her throat wide
she hunches open
heaves from her lowest black guts
and out come the woods
a stream of tall trees
shoot one after the other
flooding out her mouth
an endless black flood
spewing out a dark forest
of vast crooked limbs
groves of long corpse arms
spat onto the horizon
filling every space
stones vines and rabbits
saplings and babbling brooks
bears in winter dens
even great mountains
spew from her gaping wet maw
pooling around her
there is this new vast
remote melanoid fallow
uncharted landscape
every direction
something that had never seen
naked light of day
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tlou hbo episode two thoughts eheofsflsjf
i like that they’re continuing with the scientific approach, not just as a way to set things up in the very beginning, but as a way to (VERY subtly) inform the audience of info vital to the episode. the beginning was harrowing just in the professor’s fear.
joel’s weariness of ellie is amped tf up and it works great with the change of ellie getting a second (albeit smaller) bite. it was a REALLY neat way to a) provide a juxtaposition between ellie and tess in the immediacy of their bites, seeing as they got it at the same time, and b) very clearly illustrate to joel that ellie was telling the truth. the former was already present in the game, but the way they further emphasize it was pretty clever. it’s especially good for getting the point across to people who are new to the story.
i also liked how they chose to make tess and ellie warm up to one another, as well as ellie’s little shenanigans in the hotel with joel and tess just watching her. cute cute cute. makes me sad each ep can’t be as long as the first because i wanted just a little more “family” time.
CLICKER FIGHT. MY HEART WAS RACING. that whole sequence was so good. IT SUCKS NOT BEING IN CONTROL DURING THESE SCENES.
the one thing i have mixed feelings about is tess’s death. i didn’t quite like the change from fedra killing her. granted, i know it’s meant to be the payoff to the beginning of the ep and the added lore about infected (side note: i think the web thing is really cool! the infected being triggered primarily through sound is good when it’s gameplay but in the tv there def needed to be more), but i feel there was significance to humans killing her rather than infected. it helped along the central theme of humanity but i’ll hold off on that opinion since it’s just the second episode. apart from that, it felt more heroic of her to face fedra, but a fiery explosion works too i guess. it’s just a bit cliche.
the kiss was. uh. a choice. again, it was definitely meant to tie off what the beginning of the ep set up, and it even (very interestingly, i’ll add!) implied that infected recognize infected, but...cmon. i can think of a ton of alternatives to a kiss to get the point across. tendrils reaching from her wound. the stalker’s tendrils just reaching toward tess in general. what ACTUALLY happened was just kinda cheap, but meh i’ll live.
overall, good episode! show’s still going very strong and i’m intrigued as hell on how they’re gonna do bill and frank. i already reallllyyyy like his conspiracy theory bullshit.
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