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#bc this is how they taught us
the-things-they-say · 2 years
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Grass is not running away. It's just there. You either eat it or not.
my bio teacher
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inkskinned · 10 months
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you were raised in comparison.
it wasn't always obvious (well. except for the times that it was), but you internalized it young. you had to eat what you didn't like, other people are going hungry, and you should be grateful. you had to suck it up and walk on the twisted ankle, it wasn't broken, you were just being a baby. you were never actually suffering, people obviously had it worse than you did.
you had a roof over your head - imagine! with the way you behaved, with how you talked back to your parents? you're lucky they didn't kick you out on your ass. they had friends who had to deal with that. hell, you have friends who had to deal with that. and how dare you imply your father isn't there for you - just because he doesn't ever actually talk to you and just because he's completely emotionally checked out of your life doesn't mean you're not fucking lucky. think about your cousins, who don't even get to speak to their dad. so what if yours has a mean streak; is aggressive and rude. at least you have a father to be rude to you.
you really think you're hurting? you were raised in a home! you had access to clean water! you never so much as came close to experiencing a real problem. sure, okay. you have this "mental illness" thing, but teenagers are always depressed, right. it's a phase, you'll move on with your life.
what do you mean you feel burnt out at work. what do you mean you mean you never "formed healthy coping mechanisms?" we raised you better than that. you were supposed to just shoulder through things. to hold yourself to high expectations. "burning out" is for people with real jobs and real stress. burnout is for people who have sick kids and people who have high-paying jobs and people who are actually experiencing something difficult. recently you almost cried because you couldn't find your fucking car keys. you just have lost your sense of gratitude, and honestly, we're kind of hurt. we tell you we love you, isn't that enough? if you want us to stick around, you need to be better about proving it. you need to shut up about how your mental health is ruined.
it could be worse! what if you were actually experiencing executive dysfunction. if you were really actually sick, would you even be able to look at things on the internet about it? you just spend too much time on webMD. you just like to freak yourself out and feel like you belong to something. you just like playing the victim. this is always how you have been - you've always been so fucking dramatic. you have no idea how good you have it - you're too fucking sensitive.
you were like, maybe too good of a kid. unwilling to make a real fuss. and the whole time - the little points, the little validations - they went unnoticed. it isn't that you were looking for love, specifically - more like you'd just wanted any one person to actually listen. that was all you'd really need. you just needed to be witnessed. it wasn't that you couldn't withstand the burden, but you did want to know that anyone was watching. these days, you are so accustomed to the idea of comparison - you don't even think you belong in your own communities. someone always fits better than you do. you're always the outlier. they made these places safe, and then you go in, and you are just not... quite the same way that would actually-fit.
you watch the little white ocean of your numbness lap at your ankles. the tide has been coming in for a while, you need to do something about it. what you want to do is take a nap. what you want to do is develop some kind of time machine - it's not like you want your life to stop, not completely, but it would really nice if you could just get everything to freeze, just for a little while, just until you're finished resting. but at least you're not the worst you've been. at least you have anything. you're so fucking lucky. do you have any concept of the amount of global suffering?
a little ant dies at the side of your kitchen sink. you look at its strange chitinous body and think - if you could just somehow convince yourself it is enough, it will finally be enough and you can be happy. no changes will have to be made. you just need to remember what you could lose. what is still precious to you.
you can't stop staring at the ant. you could be an ant instead of a person, that is how lucky you are. it's just - you didn't know the name of the ant, did you. it's just - ants spend their whole life working, and never complain. never pull the car over to weep.
it's just - when it died, it curled up into a tight little ball.
something kind of uncomfortable: you do that when you sleep.
#writeblr#warm up#my dad was actively doing bad shit to us and we STILL were told we were lucky . and to a point i do think im lucky#i just think also there's somethin to be said about like. how about we stop using comparison to dismiss ppls individual struggles#yes there are people who have no perspective. for the reference tho having perspective actually made me really unwilling to get help#for what was a serious and debilitating mental health issue. bc i thought i didnt DESERVE IT#and i would rather have 600 ppl who aren't THAT bad get help and get heard and get seen#than make any 1 kid. do the math that i did: look at the world that is dying and the people who are hurting and say#''oh. okay. others have it worse. they are probably better people than i am. i am being unreasonable. i cannot ask for help#i am not good. i am taking too much space. i am not worth saving.''#bc our WHOLE lives we are taught a scarcity mindset - that you can 'steal' from someone. so that instead of changing a system that doesn't#actually offer fair support to everyone#we put the impetus on the individual to just... demand less.#and here's something - there are probably ppl who think i DIDNT deserve to get help#bc i DID have it better than other people#and something about that is ... so sickening. bc i think all of us in some way at some point WILL need help.#we were supposed to make communities. we were supposed to offer our hands. we were supposed to raise the barn#instead we said: it could be worse. now handle it yourself
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obsob · 1 year
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making and weaving and loving! like we have done for millennia!!
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densitywell · 3 months
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there's nothing orym would ask of the other hells that he wouldn't do himself, which is sort of the problem, really
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Can we appreciate and analyze how impeccable Vash’s skills as a marksman is bc I hadn't noticed anyone talk about it in length and this gif literally drives me insane:
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Content warning: mentions guns / gun and shooting below the cut because otherwise this analysis would be moot.
This is coming from someone who used to only shoot air rifles for sport like how you'd see it in the Olympics with paper targets!
Ok so as I’ve said I've shot guns before (not at anyone ya sickos) and believe me when I say that Vash has such a good steady aim his arm doesn’t even bend when he moves it - he moves it from the shoulder/ his waist to keep that arm straight and relaxed as possible, which is crazy because that gun looks like a BRICK made of solid metal. There's no way that thing is light, there's definitely some weight to it, but the way he moves it is smoother than most people I've seen lift a credit card.
Now it’s not unusual in sport to have at least some tiny weight on the end of the barrel to keep it steady and act as a counterbalance but that’s like Olympics, not a fight. Vash may be superhuman but I don’t think carrying a cross like the Punisher would make fighting any easier, so it’s safe to say holding a decently heavy chunk of metal filled with lead isn’t easy either (I’m pretty sure the humans we’ve seen so far held their guns with two hands either due to weight or stability and they're not so smooth anyways).
So him tracking someone with a gun like that in only ONE HAND is kind of impressive even at that close range bc it doesn't matter how many times you hit your mark, your barrel would NOT be as steady as Vash in that gif unless you're this gif of Kobeni from CSM:
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Even that scene in episode 3 when Vash is aiming at Knives (which I can’t find a good gif of) he doesn’t move the barrel at ALL until he has to lift it and follow Knives’ head. No shaking, no wobble, not even the SLIGHTEST figure 8 you’d normally get when you aim down a barrel - it’s a smooth turn of his wrists following Knives’ head up.
And that’s all from EXPERIENCE. Look at the two gifs below:
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You can literally see how much he’s improved since he lost his arm - he’s expectantly super wobbly compared to the last gif in episode 2. He notably doesn’t “force” the gun to stay in one spot and aim where it needs to be - he raises it then let’s it “settle” on where he’s aiming to shoot before firing. A good shooter knows how to aim and take the shot before they lose the target w/o moving (called “following through”), but a great marksman knows that when it comes to shooting you should never fight against the body’s natural tendencies to move the way it wants to even when you’re aiming at something because you’re less likely to wobble or move when your body is relaxed and comfortable. Moving it away from that position will cause you to quiver and inevitably try to return to that same comfortable position against your will. That’s not just something you pick up on naturally - you have to LEARN that shit.
Which means Vash literally took the time to either completely unlearn every single one of his body’s natural ticks in order to shoot like a pro OR he learned how to work along with each one so his aim was always on point. Either way, it took him 150 years of practice to reach that level and it definitely paid off for him I think!
There’s a bunch of other ticks I noticed, too, like him keeping his trigger finger on the side of the gun if he’s not aiming to shoot anything in that moment but still has the gun in his hand so he doesn't accidentally misfire:
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Or how he never keeps one eye closed bc the twitching WILL make you shake and lose focus so he always keeps both eyes open when aiming so he sees better:
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But this post is long enough as is and I think we all get the idea that he’s that fricking good at using a gun.
TL;DR Studio Orange did a fantastic job convincing me that Vash is an INSANELY GOOD marksman and this is coming from someone who used to shoot air rifles for sport and had an incredible coach who would also agree with me and say this guy’s aim is surreal if he ever watched this show. Also his reload speed is absolutely demonic too like what the actual hell-
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EDIT: added that scene from episode 3 just to show you guys what I meant (sorry it's low quality but you get it!!! Also the fact he's keeping his finger on the trigger bc he knows how unpredictable Knives is and could strike him down at any moment just shows how confident he is at keeping his hand steady bc if he were shaking he would DEFINITELY have misfired by now).
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ragingtwilight · 8 months
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one of my favourite headcannons is that narinder fucking sucks at being mortal
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oifaaa · 3 months
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Neutral about Alfred but didn’t he encourage Bruce to blame Jason for his own death? That’s kinda fucked up. Why doesn’t Jason have beef about that?
Alfred said some absolutely awful things towards Jason it's one of the reasons I've begun hating the whole "Alfred Jason besties" narrative they've been pushing in the comics more recently - but writers kinda want you to have a positive outlook towards Alfred especially since he died
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Hmm... it's interesting how they made Luz wear a witch's cloak in Hunting Palisman - the episode where she introduces Flapjack to Hunter. This is also the episode where Hunter defies Belos by choosing Luz over him. He goes back to his palace empty-handed and he doesn't hand over Flapjack to Belos. Unbeknownst to Hunter, he is following Caleb's footsteps.
But then, in Hollow Mind, they made the choice to have Luz not wear her witches cloak - instead they made Luz wear a jacket with a giant "E" on it. They could have given Luz a completely different outfit like they did in Hunting Palisman. But they don't... they make her wear this specific jacket...
...They also make Hunter wear Caleb's symbol in Hollow Mind... an episode where Luz and Hunter are trapped in Philip's mind... where we can see paintings of the two most important characters in Philip's life - his brother and a witch from another world.
But I'm sure this is all unintentional.
You know, like this is:
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oh, nbd, just a painting being paralleled with the scene happening right before our eyes
here's a more high def image of the painting
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Oh, hmm, okay, this is a painting of Caleb standing next to a witch with short dark brown hair and who just so happens to be a witch from another world. Both of them are startled by Philip...
Hunter, the Grimwalker who looks the most like Caleb, is standing next to someone who ALSO just so happens to be a witch from another world with short dark brown hair... both are startled by Philip's monster form...
Hmm, must be unintentional I guess.
there's also this:
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Mhm, okay, I see... I see, very interesting. Here we have Caleb being lead away from Philip by a witch from another world after the brother's have a fall out. This fall out marks the point of no return for them, as Philip later kills Caleb out of anger.
Hunter and Philip's relationship completely deteriorates because of Luz, which leads to Philip's decision to kill Hunter. She shows Hunter Belos' true nature and she offers Hunter sanctuary at The Owl House right after he finds out Belos has been lying to him his whole life... Luz saves Hunter's life and changes it forever.
Hmmm... very interesting
But I'm sure this is unintentional [I'm being sarcastic]
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craycraybluejay · 8 months
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Saw a Reddit post about a cis woman infantilizing trans men, and this is why I think cis women are THE most annoying version of transphobia in the world. Like yeah a cis man will tell you "kys tranny" but he's not very well going to take the time to psychologically torture you for the heck of it by treating you like you are exactly [three] years old.
#im sorry but cis women are so much more likely to be really fucking weird to trans people#i cannot stand them#tw suibaiting#mentioned#transphobes#infantilization#transandrophobia#bite kill maim#look im not a misogynist BUT i dont trust women for shit#they are literally taught never to talk straight at people which results in some of the most convoluted psychological warfare ever#also on one side there's transphobic misogynists on the other side there's terfs#and very few women i've met cis OR trans have been normal about trans men and transmasculine people#even the tumblr trans community is chock full of either trans women telling us we're oppressing them and also us being hated doesn't matter#and spouting transandrophobic bullshit#but the cis women 'allies' who are like 'i know trans guys i have a trans friend who most definitely isnt scared to tell me off for my#fucked up behaviour'#the thing is this is very much how women bully other women so actually#newsflash#transmascs are not 'tme' and literally all fucking trans people are endangered by transmisogyny#some of you gals just have a superiority complex about it bc you want to have someone to look down on#almost every man I've met who is not old as hell or a borderline nazi is just. normal about it.#if a woman is too interested in your transness? run for the fucking hills#no she most probably won't physically attack you but she will try her damnedest to psychologically ruin you#not sorry if i come off as an asshole#these people are WAY too comfortable making us uncomfortable#i have had it up to here#if anyone tries to infantilize me for any reason i will scare them till they beg ME to leave them alone#idk how other people tolerate it but i sure as hell won't#and i am absolutely not above hitting a woman if she's touching me against my will#you want to baby me and constantly touch me and shit you are getting slapped into sunday
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m1d-45 · 1 year
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…was birthed chalk
summary: any smith that discards a perfectly good blade holds no amount of power over the craft. perhaps it’s better, then, that the sword is passed onto one who knows better.
word count: 6.1k (good lord-)
-> warnings: spoilers for albedo lore, rhinedottir is Awful and albedo has a small crisis over it.. a metaphor that may or may not make sense only bc i was the one that wrote it
-> gn reader (they/them)
taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yum1x || @esthelily || @dedef7890
<< part 1 || < masterlist >
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when albedo wakes up, the sun has long since risen.
it’s not a surprise, as he stayed up rather late simply thinking, but it was inconvenient.
he sighed and reached for his nightstand, tying up his hair just enough to go through the motions of the morning. it was a fast, familiar, memorized pattern, quickly waking him up and getting him ready for the day. he rushed a little bit, knowing he’d woken later and rhine was expecting an explanation, but he still exited his room with hardly a yawn, moving for the kitchen. maybe he could indulge a bit, have something sweet- to wake him up, of course, and drain the remnants of sleep from him.
he barely had the chance to step over the threshold before rhine’s door opened and she walked out, bag over one shoulder and a folder in the other. she looked over at him, eyes sweeping over his clothes.
“what are you dressed like that for?”
he glanced down at himself. he wasn’t wearing anything stained or torn, and was practically identical to what he’d worn yesterday. a white shirt and pants, thick enough nothing spilled would quickly reach his skin but thin enough that it wasn’t a hassle if they needed to be disposed of. the same things he always wore.
“what’s the issue, master? is there a fault in my clothing?”
her face twisted like he’d said the sky had turned red. “didn’t i say you were coming with me today? that’s not exactly fit for snow.”
the room suddenly turned into a vacuum, all of the air leaving albedo’s chest even as he took a breath. go with her? where? when had she said so? he would have certainly used the time from yesterday to prepare if she had told him.
“stop staring and change. quickly.”
her words snapped him out of his haze and he nodded, a mumble of ‘right away, master’ clumsily pushed out of his mouth as he rushed by.
what did he wear? he rarely went on trips outside of the lab, and when he did it was never far enough to warrant much more than a simple coat. and where were they going? was it going to be cold? hot? dangerous? would he need to be able to move quickly?
albedo felt like his body was moving on its own, stripping off his shirt and pulling on another before he could make the conscious decision to do so. the flimsy band he used to tie up his hair fell to the floor but he hardly noticed, simply grabbing the more secure one for lab work and wrapping it around his wrist as he continued to change.
he wasn’t sure how, but he eventually made it out of his room in a cohesive outfit, a jacket thrown over his arm. when rhine looked him over again, she couldn’t find a fault, nodding and turning for the door.
albedo fought off a smile.
there was a cold wind outside so he ended up putting on the jacket as they walked, feeling odd about it. it was thick to keep out the chill, but… it was strange to have so much more weight to his movements. similarly, walking in boots instead of simpler shoes felt strange, out of place. he supposed it was simply because he’d never really worn them before, rarely ever venturing out like rhine did…
he followed her through a forest, trying to take in as many details as he could without stopping to sketch. brilliant blue butterflies fluttered on top of yellow flowers, large petals dipping and swaying under the weight. sun streamed through the gaps in the leaves, shifting as the winds rippled through the boughs of oak and pine. it bordered on overwhelming, the sounds of birds he’d never heard distracting him long enough that he nearly tripped over a large root.
rhinedottir huffed, an odd mix of amusement and irritation. “what, you never heard a bird before?”
he tracked a large red one as it hopped across branches, searching for something unseen. “nothing this vibrant… i’ve never been this far from the lab before, master.”
she gave him an odd look. “really? i expected you’d be out and about pretty often.”
he tore his gaze away from the bird to look at her in confusion, but.. she seemed serious. “you told me to practice alchemy, so… i did. i run experiments and rarely leave, only if i’m searching for a substance we’re out of. the farthest i’ve been was only around a five minute walk, to… miss alice called it starsnatch cliff.”
her face twisted at the mention of alice’s name, and she picked up the pace slightly. “don’t talk about her.”
“why? has she done something to upset-“
“just listen to me, alright? don’t.”
the conversation died in an instant, leaving albedo confused once more.
the forest soon broke, the trees dispersing out into a plain, and he looked around, trying to get his bearings. there was a map in the lab but he rarely used it, only ever looking to see if rhine could pick him up a material or another that he needed without going too far out of her way. still, he had a vague memory of it, enough to know the name of the mountain they were approaching.
“is the domain near vindagnyr?”
rhinedottir tensed, her grip on her bag tightening. “it’s called dragonspine.”
the edge to her words shuts down any further questions he had, and he bites his tongue with a nod.
another thing to learn.
they thankfully don’t go deep into the mountain, stopping only on the outskirts. he recognizes the domain they stopped at from the diagram she showed him, the diamond sigils faintly glowing yellow.
he inspected the domain, double checking both the inscription on the bottom and the idea he had to solve it. it seemed like it was feasible, but-
“here.” rhine held out a hand, holding a long sheath. a leather handle stuck out from it, the silver of a guard glittering dangerously, and albedo hesitated before taking it.
“why do i need a sword, master?”
she waved a hand as if it was obvious. “it’s dangerous. now stay here, i’m gonna go find a geo slime.”
“i don’t know how to wield it, are you certain-?”
“if you don’t want it then just leave it behind. it’s useless anyway.”
without any other words, she left, leaving him with a sword he didn’t know how to use.
carefully, he undid the latch and pulled off the sheath, revealing a smooth silver blade. it was simple, with a basic cross guard and a neat edge, but he still felt intimidated by the razor-sharp edge. his specialty was with alchemy, not with blade-work… surely rhine knew that?
albedo flipped the sword over and blinked at the engraving along the center of the blade. wouldn’t it make sense to have it on both sides?
he brought it closer to his face, squinting a bit to make out the words. it was an old sword, evidently, and it showed in the faded marks.
‘as the creator forged, so too do i serve.’
albedo stared.
though the words were blurry and indistinct, he was certain that was what it said. but what did it mean? there it was again, the mention of this ‘creator’, this time on a blade? was it a title, referencing the blacksmith? surely that was what ‘forged’ was there for…
at the sound of footsteps he quickly put the sword back in its sheath, deciding to shelve the thought for later.
rhinedottir came up besides him, chest heaving with effort. one of her hands was carefully cupped, a yellowish slime in her hands. “alright, i’ve got the condensate. whats your idea?”
“the inscription says to take the shortest path and to repeatedly-“
“albedo, the elemental energy in this thing isn’t gonna last.”
ah…. “top right, middle left, bottom left, middle right, bottom right, top left.”
she nodded, walking towards the domain. carefully, she smeared the slime over the sigils in the order he told, each glowing brighter as she went. as every sigil lit up, the path connecting it to the center sigil seeped with energy, flowing down to the middle. when the last of the condensate was pushed into the final sigil, the center one glowed as well, pulsing brightly. with a loud and heavy crack, he domain doors split open, falling inward.
rhinedottir was crouched, wiping the remainder of the slime onto the grass, and she stared at the doors
“you did it.”
warm pride bloomed in albedo’s chest. he had.
he helped her up and she picked up her bag of supplies, but turned to him instead of the door, a stern expression on her face.
“now, albedo, you need to stay close to me, alright? don’t stray off or wander, and if you get lost stay put and shout. domains are dangerous things, and frequently filled with monsters. this one should be empty, but in the case that it isn’t… just don’t go poking around where you shouldn’t.”
he nodded, clutching his sheathed sword a little tighter. a satisfied flicker of a smile crossed rhinedottir’s face before she turned, delving into the domain.
he followed dutifully, making sure to stick to her side. it was hard not to ask to stop and look at a carving on a wall, or an inset of gold upon a door, but the idea of her irritation kept his curiosity at bay. they made their way over mossy and cracked stones, occasionally pushing through creaky, rotten doors or climbing over fallen stone. the air itself felt ancient, important, and he wondered why rhinedottir was searching this one. she want one for history, but surely there wasn’t anything of value here…
they stopped in front of a large door, remarkably intact for the state of the rest of the domain. it was simple, blank, and the only visible mechanism of opening it were the four levers, two on each side.
rhinedottir put her hands on her hips, huffing. “there’s only two of us.”
albedo looked around the room, spotting a large pile of debris and not much else. a plan began to form in his head, a rough draft of possibility, and he wrapped the strap of the sheath around his waist to free his hands. the sword was odd and uncomfortable, but it stayed.
rhine spoke before he could, “any ideas?”
oh.
he cleared his throat, carefully stepping forward to see if she would stop him.
she didn’t.
he approached the lever closest to him, noting the large ball on the end for grip. carefully, he pushed down, surprised to see it gave with little effort. the mechanics were likely rusted and tired, unable to provide the resistance it used to, or maybe the weights had snapped off due to their ropes rotting… whatever the case, it made his job easier.
he let it go, watching it ease back into position, and turned around.
“how heavy is your bag?”
at first, her eyes lit up, but they quickly dimmed. “the angle of the levers is too sharp, it’ll just slide down.”
he shook his head. “no. the levers don’t exert enough force rising up to counter your bag, provided it’s heavy enough. as long as we push it down first, it’ll stay.”
she hesitated, holding the bag tighter, but eventually caved. as she walked over, albedo pushed down the lever again, moving to the other side of it so she could hook her bag on it. her hands hovered around it as he removed his hand, but it held.
a smile spread across her face, and she looked up eagerly. “we need one more.”
albedo turned to the pile of debris and took off his jacket, laying it out on the ground. carefully, he fills it with stone, tying the sleeves together into a handle and carefully hoisting it up. a few rocks slip, but he can tell just by holding it that it’ll work fine.
rhine gets his plan and lowers the lever for him, letting him hang the jacket on it. together, they move to the other side of the door, taking their own levers. creator and creation, in sync, pushing down the levers to a domain.
when the door creaks open, albedo turns to her in joy, delighted at the show of cooperation-
rhinedottir brushes past him, pulling her bag off the lever as she walks past.
the doors begin to slide close and albedo rushes to slip between them, leaving his jacket hanging in his haste, and shivers at the cold in the new room.
it’s dark, more so when the doors shut with a bang. the only light is a pale blue in front of him, the shadow of rhinedottir outlined within it. she’s peering down at something, her bag dropped at her side.
the floor is covered in something dark, something that floats when he kicks at it. he crouched, careful not to touch it, and sees they’re… feathers. thousands and thousands of feathers, littering the floor and walls. they’re large, smooth, as if all the feathers on an impossibly large bird had simply… fallen off.
the sound of a zipper draws his attention, and he looks over, standing. the source of the blue light is gone, the light now white and coming from a headlamp on rhinedottir’s head. she’s zipping up her bag, a self-satisfied smile on her face. “i should have brought you sooner, your skills are a pretty good tool.”
the air went cold.
ice quickly crawled through albedo’s veins, faster than it would naturally just from the chill. an unnatural, frozen mass settled in his stomach, fed the more he turned over rhinedottir’s words in his mind.
she didn’t seem to notice, busying herself with brushing off feathers from a door in the corner, but albedo couldn’t shake it off as easily as she did.
why did it bother him so much?
the walk back to the lab was cold, both because he had left his jacket and because it was nearing nighttime. the lamp on rhine’s head was the only source of light, forcing him to walk behind her and keep his eyes trained on the floor to watch where she stepped. now that it was dark, he could see that something in her bag was glowing, blue light barely edging through the gaps in her zippers. she’s taken something from the domain, but what?
he didn’t notice when they arrived, too lost in his thoughts, only pulled out by the sudden warmth around him. he shut and locked the door and watched as rhine goes through her normal routine. boots off, coat off, bag in hand, and it’s only when she pushes open her door that he takes a step and realizes a problem.
“master?”
she pauses, slight annoyance flashing for a brief moment across her face. “what?”
albedo undoes the loop of the sheath, holding up the sword, but she shakes her head.
“keep it. you’ll need it later.”
without another word, her door closes, the silent click of the lock solidifying the barrier between them.
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the next day is wrong.
it’s the only way he can describe it. there’s a tension in the air he can’t quite understand.
he’s cold even under his blanket, and he thinks about putting on his jacket only to remember he doesn’t have it. the floor is cold, and he shivers as he walks to his door.
the fire is out, which explains why the room is so cold, but it still feels empty beyond that. everything is in its place, nothing is overtly missing, but…
albedo grabs a lighter and some tinder, crouching besides the fireplace and relighting it. sparks fly and flame catches, and he stays for a moment to warm up, looking around the room. snow has swept in besides the door, which makes him frown. why would rhine leave again so soon after a discovery?
the fire crackles and pops to life, and he stands, backing away a bit so he doesn’t get burned.
what’s wrong?
why does the room feel so empty?
he turns, intending to check the small table by her door where she sometimes leaves him notes, but his attention catches on his desk.
it’s mostly as it was when they left the day before, with one vital exception: a large and thick book, weighing down two envelopes.
if he had a heart, he had a feeling it cracked.
he feels… a word comes to mind, dread, but he doesn’t understand it, not fully. his breath picks up as he approaches the book, as his shaking hand brushes over the print of his name in his master’s handwriting and he feels cold.
‘albedo,’ it reads. nothing more. nothing less.
his chest feels tight, his mind running rampant as it tries desperately to catalogue, define, and diagnose whatever makes him feel so nervous.
carefully, cautiously, albedo pulls the envelope from beneath the leather bound book, feeling afraid.
he pulls out his stool and sits, mostly so he doesn’t feel as nauseous, and rips open the letter, pulling out the twin sheets of paper inside. its… small. the ‘paragraphs’ are barely a line or two long, yet the handful of sentences feel like they’re being forced into his mind by chisel.
Kreideprinz,
I have found what I have been looking for. Locked within the domain we searched was the Heart of Naberius, and I have no further matters to attend to here.
Go to Mondstadt. Find my old friend, Alice, and give her the recommendation letter. Then, complete your final assignment. Any other projects you were working on prior are now void; consider this to be the only one that matters.
Your final assignment: show me the truth and the meaning of this world.
— Gold
he reads and rereads the words over and over again, but they don’t stick. his hands are shaking, worse now, and something in his chest begins to hurt. he checks the other page but only finds a map, the backs of both papers empty. nothing more. nothing less.
albedo drops the papers, if only to read them without the words shaking, but finds that his sight has begun to blur. he wipes the water from his eyes and tries again, and again, and again to understand what’s written in the letter.
rhinedottir always said that if he didn’t perform well she would simply leave; was this the end result of that? had he failed to keep up with the pace she had silently set? was there some silent cue he was meant to follow, something to direct him to the answers she wanted quicker than he would organically find them? was he meant to be quicker, more efficient, was he meant to find things at such an inhuman pace because he was never truly human to begin with?
‘kreideprinz,’ she says (nothing more, nothing less), pretending as if the title from his ‘childhood’ wasn’t something he had clearly failed to earn if she had left, if he had somehow failed. ‘recommendation letter,’ for an ‘old friend,’ as if she hadn’t stopped talking about her after the incident with klee, never inviting them back no matter how many times albedo subtly hinted alice might be able to help her.
even as he stands, as his mind registers the command of his final assignment, a large portion of his mental space is taken up by the instincts she drilled into him, desperately attempting to make sense of at least something.
maybe it’s hunger, his thoughts nudge, but he’s never had the largest appetite to begin with, and accidentally skipping days of meals while he was focused on a project never made his stomach hurt like it did now. he feels- he doesn’t know how he feels, he could stop and sit and think for a year but never know. the words he’s searching for are out of his reach, blurry, unknown to him even as he feels them all the same. he knows that it’s likely some sort of panic response, the ever-analytical sector of his mind forever chugging away and collecting data on his own feelings, but he doesn’t know why.
why?
he pulled a bag from his closet, blankly running through a checklist his brain pulled from thin air. the book rhinedottir left him was tucked into a pocket, the letter put away while the map stayed out. ‘mondstat,’ she said. he’d heard about it from alice—made sense, he was supposed to go there to see her—but while the name was familiar, he still didn’t know where it was.
he’d packed. nearly all of his belongings were tucked within the bag, save for maybe a few of the early textbooks he studied from simply due to space and weight. still, even as he set it on his desk and stared at the map, reading the names yet not registering the information, he didn’t feel ready.
feel. the word was beginning to lose meaning.
he felt things he didn’t understand and didn’t feel what he thought he should. he wasn’t angry that she left without warning, nor sad at the lack of assignments or the vagueness of the one he did receive. he wasn’t resentful—a word that hardly applied to him anyway—because she had left before she reviewed something he’d submitted to her. he wasn’t anything he knew, and everything he didn’t.
he was just… hollow.
albedo wiped the tears from his eyes and made an effort to read the map, understanding only the location of the lab, the marker designating north, and the city labeled mondstat. he folded the map and put it in his pocket, pulling a lab coat over his shoulders and hefting the bag. the door was cold, the wind outside even colder, and as he stared at the key in his palm, he wondered if it was even worth it to lock the door.
metal twisted within metal.
the chalk prince crumbled.
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the first thing albedo noticed about mondstat was that it was tall.
buildings stretched higher than he’d ever seen, walls so tall he had to look up to see the guards patrolling along the top, bows in hand.
the second was that it was an island.
he checked the map rhine left him—and blocked out the part of his mind still documenting the bitterness in the back of his throat, wondering if it was emotion or illness—and upon further inspection, if he squinted.. the blurry lines revealed there was in fact water around the city.
he folded it away. at least he knows he has the right place?
he steps from the treeline where he’d been resting, pulling the familiar weight of his bag i’ve this shoulders and-
“albedo?”
he freezes, barely a foot from the shade of the whispering woods.
he turns, slowly, and sees red within one of the bushes. bright, a hat on top of a red coat, blonde twin tails broken up by specks of grass caught within them. the clover charm on klee’s hat caught the light, shining, and a warm pressure built up in his throat.
familiarity.
“klee.”
he can’t stop the way his voice almost cracks, strained with his journey (he’s alone) and the realization he’s been avoiding (maybe he was meant to be)
she lights up upon recognizing his voice, quickly rushing from the bush to latch herself onto his side. her arms wrap around him, and he tentatively sets one of his on her hat, unsure where to put it.
(her hair reminds him of rhinedottir’s, of the time she spent meticulously washing dust and debris from it after a long journey, of the blades of grass she flicked into the fire as she braided it away, tying it with a bright red ribbon alice had gifted her)
“klee’s so happy to see you! what are you doing here? where’s your mom? are you here to stay? oh, can i show you my new dodoco?”
albedo picked through her questions in his mind, deciding which would be safe ones to answer. “i’m here for your mother, alice. i’m… to deliver a letter to her.”
klee backed away, fitting her thumbs under her backpack straps. “klee can take you to her! i was going back to the city anyways.”
he glanced at the forest. “what were you doing there?”
her face suddenly flushed a bright pink, eyes flashing with what he assumed was embarrassment before she rushed forward, taking him by the hand and walking at a shockingly fast pace for somebody so young. “don’t worry about it!”
albedo had a feeling he should.
nonetheless, he followed, letting her lead up up to and across the bridge. it was empty, an eerie feeling settling over it as he walked. he wasn’t sure why; maybe it was the imposing height of the walls? maybe it was the guards in front of the gate, swords at their sides?
(suddenly, he was aware of the blade hanging at his side that rhinedottir had given him. had she known that would be the last time they met? or had she intended to teach him how to wield it?)
(he’s not sure which is more unbelievable)
the guard on the left brought his hand up in what albedo could only assume was some form of salute, in the process slightly blocking their path. “klee. who is with you?”
“this is albedo! he’s the son of a friend of mama’s, and klee’s friend too!”
the knight scanned him up and down, lingering slightly on his sword.
(would he have the heart to hand it over? would he feel better without a reminder of her, or worse that he’d give it up so easily?)
the guard eventually settled with a second salute, dipping slightly in a half-bow. “mondstat welcomes you, strange yet respectable traveler. please state your identity and purpose; the knight of favonius are here to ensure your safety.”
‘knights of favonius’… the name sounded familiar, but he couldn’t tell why. maybe from one of alice’s tales?
still, he dipped his own head in greeting, partially to stall. ‘identity’…
“i am albedo… disciple of rhinedottir in the study of alchemy. i am here to deliver a letter to alice, klee’s mother.”
klee looked up at him with a pout. “you’re not staying longer? what happened to all the things we were going to do?”
he didn’t remember ever committing to anything prior. “that isn’t my choice, klee. even if i wished to stay, i have nowhere to.”
the knight cleared his throat before the conversation could continue. “according to the knights of favonius handbook, we are to accompany travelers through the city as needed…”
“it’s okay mr. knight! klee knows her way around the city! i can take albedo to mama and then show him around.”
the knights were clearly uneasy about the prospect, likely because of klee’s age, but eventually nodded, moving back to their posts.
“mondstat welcomes you.”
klee quickly pulled him forward again, into the city, a quick ‘thank you!’ thrown over her shoulder that was likely lost in the sea of noise.
mondstat was loud. and full. more people than he’d ever seen in his entire life were gathered in just the simple courtyard she pulled him through, the calls of venders and the orders of customers melding together into an indecipherable mess. he was thankful she took him to the side, up a staircase, if only to get away from the massive crowds.
“mama is at a meeting with the knights right now, which is good! you can bring her your letter and get help from the knights at the same time,” klee explained, slowing down slightly from all the stairs. no wonder the walls were giant: so was the rest of the city.
he tugged her back, slowing to a stop. “klee, i don’t think i’ll need the help of the knights. if alice is in a meeting, then we shouldn’t bother her.”
“who said i was in a meeting?”
klee moved faster than he did, turning towards her mothers voice and running towards her, attaching to her side much in the same way she did to him. the thought pulled the corners of his lips into a smile.
“mama!”
alice laughed, catching her daughter easily. “hello, little clover.” she looked up, shock and recognition pooling in her eyes. “albedo? what are you doing here? is rhinedottir with you?”
his muscles tensed at the mention of her name, the memories of the past week of travel threatening to bubble up. he swallowed them down and hoped his voice wasn’t shaky, “no, but i’m to bring you a letter from her.”
alice’s eyes moved to his shoulders, to the large bag he’d been carrying. “are you staying here?”
“…i don’t know.”
her face twisted with something, and she turned her attention to klee before he could ask.
“clover, could you do me a favor?”
klee stepped back, “of course! what is it?”
“i need to read over albedo’s letter and sort some other things out, okay? while i do that, could you show him around the city? he’s never been here, and i’m sure he’d love for you to help him get his bearings.”
klee nodded, clearly excited, and alice walked around her to him. he pulled the letter from his pocket, but she reached for his bag instead. “let me take this.”
“that’s not necessary, i-“
“-have nowhere to go, albedo. i’ll hold your things while you walk with klee.”
something earnest and soft cradled her words, a care to the way she smiled at him when he caved and handed over his bag. he felt lighter without it.
before he could think about it further, alice was gone and klee had taken his hand in hers again, tugging on it.
“albedo? are you okay? you look upset.”
ah….
he tried for a smile. “i was just thinking about something. where do you want to go first?”
she studied him for a moment, squinting slightly, before apparently coming to a decision.
“we’ll go to the cathedral first. mama always says that if you ask the creator really nicely you’ll sometimes get help with whatever your problem is, and you look like you have a lot of problems!”
there it was again, that title…
she began to walk before he could say anything, taking him up let another flight of stairs. this one was longer, curving, and gave him time to figure out how to phrase what he wanted.
“klee?”
she turned, but didn’t so much as slow, “hm?”
“who’s the creator? you left before you could say last time.”
klee did stop this time, so abruptly he nearly ran into her.
“how do you not know? everybody knows.”
she spoke with a mix of confusion and… something akin to indignation, so strange coming from somebody so young that by the time he registered her words, she had pulled him along again, faster.
“everybody knows,” she mumbled to herself. “everybody. the grand master asks for guidance and captain kaeya for wisdom, mama prays for knowledge and klee asks for inspiration. how do you not know?”
he felt bad, somehow, even though it wasn’t his fault that he didn’t know. he knew that, he wasn’t a fool, it wasn’t his fault, it was…
(flashes of blonde hair flicker in his mind, the sharp command to ‘try again, and get it right this time’ echoing in his mind. already, it felt like a year ago he last saw her)
(could be truly blame her when his mistakes were his fault?)
klee leads him up to a large building—‘cathedral,’ he remembers—but takes him past the large doors, to the back. at the end, behind it all, was a small park-like space, large stones spaces equally across the space. the stones are carved with words, but she doesn’t let him get closer to read it.
she pointed, and he followed, jumping slightly at what he saw. against the back wall of the cathedral, seeming oddly at rest for being carved of stone, was a large statue. the pedestal it sat on was simple, but littered with offerings, the flowers looking fresh. if he had to guess, it was likely a shrine of sorts, probably to-
“that’s the creator.”
ah. he’d thought as much.
klee sat him down in front of the shrine, beginning to tell a story. it’s simple, one told to children, but it’s gets the message across to him.
the creator was to teyvat what rhinedottir was to him. divine hands shaped the mountains and plains, breathing life into the soil. the very purest form of creation, forming something- forming everything from nothing, the smallest of flowers and largest of trees planted with barely a thought. rivers cut through the earth at will, every blade of grass placed by the hand of the one that made it.
klee told a story of the birth of the universe, of the colors on an invisible pallet that painted the planets and dotted the sky with stars. she sat on stone and fiddled with her dodoco, her voice never wavering as she repeated everything she was told, graciously filling albedo in.
in return, albedo untied the sword at his side, laying it down in front of the shrine. the blade felt uncharacteristically heavy, his hands cold, but he still set it down gently.
it was a lot of information, but he managed, carefully filing everything away as the way he viewed the world slowly changed. it made sense; everything had to come from somewhere, after all.
he looked not at the sheath, but through it, at the inscription along the center. ‘as the creator forged, so too do i serve.’
perhaps he and the blade were more similar than he thought.
no bladesmith made a weapon without a purpose. no alchemist dedicated years to a project only to stop when they reached the final product. nothing was made without being tested, nothing was alive without being taught, no sword was made without an edge.
and yet, somebody had to teach the smith. somebody had to guide their hammer to the stool, their hands along a sharpening stone, trained them in the skills of polishing and oiling. no god created an art without a an artist, and no teacher let their pupil loose without granting them the skills to continue the craft.
no tool existed without intention. no smith existed without their mentor prior, nor without their own student to teach.
rhinedottir may have abandoned him, but his creator never would. they would not let him be set loose without purpose, nor discarded without reason. he could tell, simply by sitting in front of the marble statue, that this was the case.
he could feel it in the wind. in the gentle breeze they guided, sweeping his worth from his shoulders. in the ground beneath him, that never grew uncomfortable. he could sense the subtle presence of the creator, the way the grass seemed to point towards the pedestal of the statue or how the sun seemed a little less harsh back here making it evident. albedo could feel the creator’s intentions as his eyes moved back to the sword, to the reminder of rhine that bore a carved reminder of them, feel the reassurance in the etched words. amidst the sea of confusion surrounding rhinedottir’s disappearance, they had appeared, stretching a hand to pull him out and back ashore, to the banks of stability.
albedo reached back.
they felt warm.
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honey-dont · 7 months
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my ideal john/lisa dynamic is just
(john ward voice) i don’t believe in violence…but my wife does (sound of lisa racking a shotgun in the distance)
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naranj1ta · 16 days
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Working on my submission for the Star Rail anniversary contest feat heartbroken lesbians
Aka a sneak peak at a comic that will hopefully include all 40-something playable characters ! I promise they won't all be sad
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narwhalsarefalling · 1 year
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just fucking realized that can openers arent supposed to be hard as hell to use. my mom is left handed and although i can write with my left i usually grab stuff with my right hand.
anyway. turns out our can opener that ive been using for Twenty Two Fucking Years is made for left handed ppl.
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alphacrone · 4 months
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sometimes i think “oh maybe beauty standards these days aren’t so impossible maybe i’m overreacting” and then i see a photo from 1947 of like “the most beautiful woman in indianapolis” and it’s just some lady.
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manichewitz · 3 months
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an unfortunately really really frustrating part about seeing different companies/organisations/etc try to be more trans inclusive is that even if they're actually doing a great job, its fucking depressing to see how people need to be formally trained on how to treat me with respect. i'm reading this article right now about how theatre companies are trying to be trans-friendly and how people actually needed to like. take classes and talk to experts and get all this gender stuff explained to them in order to have an accepting workplace, meanwhile it's all things that i know about because they are the most basic aspects of my everyday life. its so fucking tiring
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darkwood-sleddog · 4 months
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man i am sometimes baffled by the dog posts that reddit's algorithm pushes to my account.
what do you mean you're literally holding your border collie's head up with your hand as they walk to force them to learn a "head up heel" or whatever you're calling it. like just. fucking. teach the behavior with engagement games, it is literally one of the first things i was taught in a basic group obedience class you absolute buffoon.
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