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clowndensation · 11 months

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there’s a question to be asked i think about to what extent “getting out” can be conflated with “being saved” in this show, and what freedom actually means to any of these characters.

like you can argue that shiv saved ken by voting against him on gojo, but what if your intent behind saving someone is to inflict a worse punishment than if you’d just left them trapped? can a child weaned on poison survive on milk, or are you just sentencing them to a death by inches, starved of the only thing they know? and if you save someone specifically because you know that being saved is the worst thing that can happen to them, is that kindness or cruelty? at what point does a good thing become a malicious act?

and you can say that roman is finally free, but what exactly is he free from? the company? his father? does unlocking a cage mean saving a dog, or are you allowing him out on the street knowing there’s a kill shelter nearby? if the driving anxiety behind roman is that he’s an idiot and a failure—that he’ll never amount to anything, and trying will only lead to pain—and he’s finally cut loose once all of those anxieties have crystallized into cold hard fact in his mind, what has he actually escaped from? if the cage is in your mind, is it even possible for somebody else to unlock it?

the fundamental truth of a tragedy is that even being saved can be a death sentence, if the characters are incapable of escaping the thing doing them the most harm (themselves and their childhoods)

#'what about shiv' if i think about shiv i'm going to kill myself. she needs her own post. there's too much there to get into.#anyways seeing a tremendous amount of At Least Roman Is Free <3 tags that have me going. right. for sure. free from what?#because it's certainly not the intense amount of self disgust that has driven him in circles this entire time.#i fear he may feel the weight of alienation on his soul for the rest of his life. and he won't even try to alleviate it anymore.#and ALSO the idea that shiv went out of her way to save kendall as an act of like. altruism. like it was a sacrifice on her part #which i feel is a very toothless perspective on shiv and the psychological torment that's been weighing on her essentially since birth #like her choice in regards to gojo is one of the meatiest most harrowing bits of character work i've ever seen #and while of course there was love inside that action (because nothing these characters do is entirely divorced from love)#i don't think it was necessarily a kind or forgiving or sacrificial love #like this was an intense vitriolic snapping from a dog that has been kicked by her dad all her life.#and who absolutely refuses to accept that from her brother (because that would mean acknowledging that kendall takes the mantle of Dad-#and that she's subservient to him. which is the one thing she absolutely will never do #because it's a level of degradation that's finally a step too far)#anyways. um. insane season that i still can't look at directly or i'll perish on the spot.#succession

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merakiui · 1 year

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ALIEN SCARAMOUCHE WITH OVIPOSITION MERA ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME 😭 I need more, what would he look like, what are his motivations... Omg... Maybe some kidnapping going on...some experiments on humans...him studying how humans reproduce and if his race can use them... Aaaa my mind is going crazy with ideas, please do share yours too! <3

What if he doesn’t have a form of his own (something that sort of ties into canon Scaramouche’s obsession with wanting a heart and a purpose)? And maybe he’s more like a shadowy mass that can take the form of anything so long as he’s encountered said thing (i.e. made contact with it? Or maybe he has to kill the original in order to take its form? Or it’s something like a reflection where if you happen to look at him long enough he’ll have a good enough idea of how to replicate your form from staring and analyzing it.) and since he’s so dedicated to having a form that really fits, that truly feels like him, he’s continued to adapt and evolve as the years pass throughout every planet in the solar system.

Perhaps he does have a few features of his own, but maybe they’re sort of scattered?? Or they aren’t really features his species is known to have? He’s like a mixture of various things he’s observed over the time he’s spent on your planet in an effort to shape himself into something beyond the formless shadow he’s lived as for so long. Like a patchwork copycat composed of so many different parts because he’s desperately trying to understand all of these things. It’s like his version of trying on clothes and new fashion styles. So maybe he has horns or maybe cat ears because he’s seen so many stray cats and they’ve always fascinated him for some unexplainable reason (maybe in order to have these features he’s had to ingest part of the living thing he wants to replicate??? Just something a little extra horrifying for our beloved alien mouchey. <3) And maybe the only thing he has from the one who created him (Ei) is the same piercing stare in a pair of brilliantly colored eyes she graciously bestowed upon him.

Maybe Scaramouche can’t understand human emotion in the usual sense that other humans might, so he assigns flavors to these unusual feelings. When he hurts the things he likes or is interested in (cats, the human he stole his current appearance from (i.e. Kabukimono; let’s pretend they’re two separate individuals hehe), and even other gentle things or creatures who are completely innocent), the taste in his mouth is sour or bitter or so very intolerable. I think over time he hardens himself and learns to live with the foul flavors he often encounters when he attempts to blend in with humans and utterly fails because he can never replicate their emotions as well as he can copy behaviors or appearances. He starts his journey so curious and sweetly innocent, albeit murderous and eerie, and he tries so hard to learn and be good and explore the world with the eyes his mother gifted him and yet he always finds himself hurting. He hates it. It tastes terrible. It feels terrible, and he has never truly felt before. This is new.

When Scaramouche is captured by Dottore, a human scientist who is a little too dedicated to the pursuit of forbidden knowledge, he finally tastes the cruelty of humankind—learns of the lengths they’ll go to in the name of scientific breakthroughs. The researchers run dozens of tests on him. He can’t feel external or internal pain from wounds or injuries; he’s sturdy, birthed from a substance foreign to humans, intended to survive the harshest conditions. But Scaramouche feels pain—the emotional kind. He’s never felt fear; he’s what humans would call an apex predator. He’s strong. He’s never needed to feel fear, and so he doesn’t fear the unknown. He isn’t scared of the sharp tools, of the peculiar creatures he’s shown in hopes that he might replicate them and their features, nor does he fear the trajectory of this new life. The concept of ethical practices means nothing to him even though he’s aware he’s a lab rat, a grotesque curiosity that doctors poke and prod at. He reacts to everything in unique, defensive ways. He impaled a doctor through the throat with a strange shadowy spike. It moved as though it were liquid, yet it struck very solidly, sharply, deadly efficient. Dottore likens its movements and behaviors to that of an octopus’s tentacle; Scaramouche is unsure of this comparison. This is merely a shadow of something he has observed—a reflection. A cheap copy. He has never been original.

You’re the first human he meets who isn’t adorned in sterile white. No lab coat, no gloves, no goggles, no protective gear. Just clothes. Normal clothes. The both of you are separated by indestructible glass, placed in two very white rooms, and you can see one another so clearly. Scaramouche hates the purity of white because he knows that when he’s forced into a white backdrop he’s meant to stain it red. And lately he doesn’t want to break things that are undeserving of it. Perhaps he’s feeling too much. Perhaps he ought to tear these human feelings out and go back to the blank, shadowy slate he once was. How he intends to accomplish that, he has no idea.

He’s uninterested in you at first. You’re a human. He’s seen humans. He interacts with them daily. He’s killed plenty. But you spend nights in that white room and he watches you sleep. He tries to sleep in the same way you do; he has no need for sleep. He regulates his energy differently. He tries to breathe like you. He blinks at the same times you blink—or he comes awfully close. He tries to copy your movements and mannerisms. One night he presses himself to the glass and takes your form and watches you, counting every rise and fall of your chest as you lie so comfortably on the very uncomfortable cot. With hands that mirror yours, he pokes at these human features. He fits one hand in the other and pretends he’s holding your actual hand. There is no warmth, though. Humans are warm; Scaramouche is not. He’s frigid. His home planet is gloomy and cold and desolate. He thinks humans are lucky for cyclical days—for being in close proximity to the sun. There is no sunshine where he hails from. He likes the way the sun feels on him. It used to burn terribly when he first arrived on this planet. Now it’s like a hug—a hug that still singes, but a hug nonetheless. He’s never known what a hug is, but he thinks this is what it must feel like—like the burning warmth of a sun.

Scaramouche feels true, raw, animalistic, paralyzing fear when you’re taken out of the room after two weeks and replaced with a new human. You’re gone. Replaced. Are you dead? Did he kill you? Did he stare too long? He’s distraught, overcome with a horrifying emotion that has him curled and trembling in the corner of his white room (a cage if he’s ever known one). Why aren’t you here? And why is he so…restless? He can’t call it fear because he doesn’t know that word. But oh he’s scared. He’s so scared. You were the first human to smile at him, to put your hand on the glass where his rested, to sit close to the glass and eat meals alongside him. You were like the stray cats he’s interacted with: kind, soft, gentle, sweet. He’s so scared he loses the ability to remain in his human skin, and he practically melts into a shadow, clinging to the corner like glue or slime. He’s empty and alone. It tastes terrible. It feels terrible.

The humans that follow are terrified of him. Either that or they’re disgusted, baffled, cautious. He hates every one of them, so much so that he’s tried to break through the glass numerous times to dispose of them. Weeks pass; he’s forgetting your features. There are no mirrors here, so he must rely on the reflections shown in the glass. Some days he thinks he looks just like you; other days he’s certain he’s a monstrosity—a sloppily stitched version of you. The you he saw did not have pointed fangs or curling horns. He hates his reflection because it isn’t you. Most importantly, he hates that the humans he’s forced to look at are protected by this thick layer of glass. If it wasn’t so indestructible, he’d tear through every human nuisance until he reaches you.

Scaramouche is not sure how many months pass, but you return. And when you do the fear ebbs away. He feels…happy? Is that the right term? He’s pleased to see you, and for the first time in a while he returns to his human appearance—to the one he took from a young man many centuries ago. You’re back. You’re here. He’s so happy. He detaches himself from his corner and he tries to smile in the way you do. And, though it’s awkward and strange and sharp-toothed, you smile right back.

Dottore decides then that you are to be the next subject in this experiment. He’s observed Scaramouche’s reactions to you and compared them to reactions to the other humans and found that you are the best suited to this role. If anything, the alien couldn’t have picked a better specimen to adore. You’re helpless and so naïve. You need the money; it’s why you allowed yourself to live in that room for a few weeks. You were paid handsomely for it. He’ll pay you beyond handsomely if you agree to what’s next. And, really, when you’re in between a predator’s jaws do you really have much of a choice?

Scaramouche needs a human match, and the scientists need to study more than just the social biology of an alien. They promise you he won’t hurt you, and if he does it’s all right. They’re kind enough to respect the wishes of the dead. You must let Dottore know if you’d prefer a burial or a cremation. There’s nothing special in this distinction; it’s just a precautionary measure. You’ll agree to participate in this experiment whether or not you want to.

Your new home is the white room that faces Scaramouche, and after some more time and observations to ensure you won’t be killed the moment you step foot in his space the glass barrier will be lifted. Dottore wonders how Scaramouche’s kind mates and reproduces.

There’s only one way to find out.

#genshin chit chat #alien scaramouche #yandere scaramouche #scaranya #please forgive me for rambling orz #i just think there’s so much potential for aliens and scara #I PROMISE I HAVE OVIPOSITION THOUGHTS FOR HIM TOO OTL #i just wanted to world-build a little >_<#(adding more tags because i have so many ideas but!!!)#maybe you can’t kill his species in the way you might kill a human #maybe the only thing that kills his species is heartbreak (or extreme emotions)#because his species cannot handle just how overwhelming heartbreak and things like fear are #maybe because his species was never intended to feel to the extent humans feel #because scara has evolved to withstand any and all dangerous threats #he hasn’t evolved enough to defend against emotional threats #so essentially he is physically very strong but mentally/emotionally he’s weaker because he does not know how to feel or comprehend feeling #and too much of a certain emotion if felt in extreme amounts is detrimental and even fatal to him #because he doesn’t know how to protect against that or repair the damage that has been done from strong emotions #he can be beheaded and he’d easily repair the wound #but heartbreak… he can’t repair that (not after he’s formed such a strong bond with his darling)#AAAAA TOO MANY THOUGHTS

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rune-chaser · 10 months

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so the most recent ep (65) has my brain in a vice. Take the witches <3

#critical role fanart #critical role #cr3 #imodna #fearne calloway #my crappy art #imogen temult #laudna critical role #bells hells #do I know how many tags register now? No #but that will not stop me from putting some in #Also no #ALSO IMODNA NATION RISE UP #WE WON!#also I am but a humble webcomic artist #please forgive me for nerfing the amount of flowers Fearne has SOB

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sonicchaoscontrol · 1 year

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Alright, it’s close enough to the holiday here that we can go ahead and get started!

Hello! With all due sincerity, how are you? Have you been well?

It’s been a while, hasn’t it. Is this thing still on? Let me see if I can’t clear a few things up as the Moderator That Was, Once, And May Be Again. Read on for details, my friends! It’s long-winded, but I hope it suffices. If you’re new here, don’t worry about any of this, and simply enjoy the cheeky teaser. I’ll see you soon.

—---------

Of course, the obvious:

It wasn’t right of me to disappear. For three years it’s sat quietly as my greatest shame, and I still feel that guilt all the dang time. I was having such fun! This thing was on a roll! So…what happened in 2019? Truth is - I wasn’t ready. I had a lot of growing to do, both as a person and an artist, and I was winging it way more than I ever should have been allowed to get away with. Around the time I left, my living situation took a drastic turn for the worse, and I quickly arrived at every artist’s greatest enemy: Immense burnout. That shit sent me up in FLAMES. I was kindling in no time flat!

…So, like, what the hell man, where have I been in the years since? Twitter, mostly. Various MMOs. Discord, too. Learning and growing and finally getting my affairs in order. Are things okay now? Well, they’re a lot better than they were! Steady onwards. I’m out of that situation and on the mend. But lately? I’ve had this nagging itch in the back of my brain that it might be time to get back to where I feel I really belong. Revamp this shindig and fix it from the ground up, you know? It’s still a story I want to tell, but I feel that the time I’ve spent away has taught me a lot about how storytelling really works.

So what does the road look like from here?

Here’s how it’s gonna go - first, the fixes. I’d be functionally recycling the story in its current state, filling in the decade-old plotholes, and working with proper pacing ahead of time, instead of simply going page by page and seeing what happened (You don’t want to know what the old process looked like!). This time, updates would be sent out on a steadier, more reliable basis, instead of churning ahead at full throttle and reaching Burnout Station again. I don’t have an accurate estimate of how long this process will take or when new pages would be released, but I’d like to build up a little bit of a buffer, so we’ll see! At the time of this posting, several pages are already in the works - make of that what you will! I’ve also got an editor this time, for bonus points.

Secondly, the administrative aspect. Three years or so is a lot of time to lose grip on a website, and I haven’t actually USED this place in a while. So please bear with me while I make any necessary changes and see about adjusting things under the hood. Yes, the original discord was deleted. No, it doesn’t make it right. Yes, I have a new Sonic/SCC server that's waiting for the right time to go public. Communicate with me on that as we go - is that kind of hub still wanted? We’ll see.

This is an endeavor that will take time and patience, more than I feel I deserve after so suddenly ghosting everyone - mental illness and poor circumstance can make for a downright nasty combination, and I think we’re all juggling various struggles a few years into a worldwide pandemic. I ain’t special, I know a lot of us burned out like so many well-meaning meteors. But all that aside… I think I would like to try again. My inaction back then was borne of a terrible situation and no strength to keep the fire burning, but now? Now, I’m here, and ready to make the attempt.

I can’t promise immediate results, but the keyword here is ‘try’. Coming back to this place and seeing that there were still those hanging on, waiting to see if it would ever dig itself out of the snow? Warmed my heart like you would not believe. I don’t remember the state of mind I was in at the time, nor the current status of… a lot of things, actually, but y’know what, that’s okay. Clean slate. Fresh start. Powdered snow and broken ice.

You’re still here! You thought this was something worth waiting for! I will try my best to live up to that kindness, and do things the right way this time. Thank you for waiting for me.

Got ring? I do.

-Ness / RhythmCrown

#sonic the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog #sth #sonic #shadow #sonic comic #sonic fanart #hello gross amount of tags #and hello catharsis #mod post #mod draws #we all danced in fire; trapped in this machine #don't know how long we've waited; as the mod is watching #the code word is warp ring #please forgive me for my tag abundance #among other things #you'll probably also have to open that in a new tab because lol formatting

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