#thank you to the hivemind for theory help
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Proposing:
Grand Unified Scarian Theory
a single, overarching Scarian romance arc across the whole Hermitcraft and Life series as well as a primer for anyone curious about the early seasons.
We start with NEIGHBOR MEET CUTE in early Season 6:
Season 6 begins in a peaceful pirate bay. SCAR, an established hermit just beginning his third season, is happily making pirate caves. Into this tranquil scene comes GRIAN.
Grian, fresh-faced and new to Hermitcraft, picks a sea-themed base location right next to Scar’s pirate caves. He gets himself set up and starts his base. Even someone like Grian can get newcomer nerves, and he spends the first few weeks desperately trying to act like a normal person instead of the horrible gremlin he really is.
(Some hermits are taken in by this. Doc and Xisuma give him pity diamonds, something that—after getting to know Grian—they noticeably never do again.)
The only person exempt from Grian’s just-a-little-birthday-boy act is Mumbo, whom Grian already knows, clearly has a puppy-crush on, and pursues relentlessly.
Grian and Scar don’t interact much at first. Grian sees Scar for the first time while passing by his base. Scar instantly falls in one of his own caves and dies.
Grian panics.
Grian: I DIDN’T DO IT!
Scar, intrigued by his new neighbor, makes some overtures of interest:
1. Scar leaves a fully enchanted trident at Grian’s base as a welcome present. This is a generous gift for the cute neighbor you have a crush on and frankly the most normal thing either of them do in the entire years-long relationship.
Grian goes ‘huh!’ at the trident, never finds out who sent it, and immediately forgets the whole thing.
2. Scar entertains Grian’s traveling-salesman pitch and buys his overpriced armor boxes.
Multiple jokes about the size of Scar’s wallet. Grian clearly pleased by the transaction.
3. Scar makes Grian a complementary in-joke build (Spongebob’s house by Squidward’s house).
This delights Grian immeasurably for five minutes until he turns back to his prank war with Mumbo.
(Poor Mumbo. Clearly immensely fond of Grian but not sure he wants to be in a relationship with a lit stick of dynamite. This is very understandable.)
By this point Scar obviously kind of clocks that Grian is insane about Mumbo. This isn’t much of a leap. The entire SERVER is aware that Grian is horribly in love with Mumbo.
Ah. That’s okay. Scar backs off a bit. He recognizes when he’s not really in with a chance.
Maybe this thing he has with Grian is just going to be a friendship, and that’s okay! Having a crush is fun even if you’re not going to do anything about it. Scar is going to build some shops about it and be normal.
Both of them are going to be very normal.
FLIRTING (First Stages) – mid-Season 6
Both of them immediately forget to be normal.
Grian has started a detective agency and has no mysteries to solve. Scar instantly invents a cookie-based mystery supervillain called the Jangler and leaves Grian a series of tantalizing cookie-based puzzles for enrichment in his enclosure.
Grian has invented a game where you kill people with rockets. Scar volunteers to get murdered. Both of them are delighted.
Scar and Cub’s business empire is incidentally crushing Grian’s startup venture. There is no reason for this to be so flirtatiously charged.
At this point all the hermits move to a new village because of the Minecraft update. Grian starts a who-can-build-the-tallest-house war with Mumbo and Iskall. Scar notices and starts doing the same from the other side of the village.
It quickly gets so wild that Mumbo taps out (Mumbo does not do well with intensity, would rather just not, thankyouverymuch), and it's only Grian, Iskall and Scar.
Scar builds a wild giant plant eating his rocketship, and then a castle in the sky, and an enormous version of himself firing a canon at Grian's house. This is the first time you can really see Grian trying to hold in shrieks when he flies back in to see what Scar has done while he's gone.
Grian’s interest has been caught. He’s gone from barely seeing Scar to checking on him regularly. What’s our good friend Scar up to? What’s Scar done? What is Scar going to do next?
FLIRTING (How To Catch Your Crush’s Interest By Building A Secret Government Facility) – late Season 6
What Scar does next is put on a snazzy military uniform, team up with Doc to steal the time machine Grian invented last week, then, in the most effort someone has EVER gone to to get Grian's attention, spend weeks on end building a fully-functional 'Area 77' military base and containment facility to stop him getting it back.
Turns out this works beyond Scar’s wildest dreams.
Grian INSTANTLY obsessed with breaking into Scar’s base and retrieving his time machine.
Grian persuades Ren into forming a hippie camp with him next to the base and spends weeks entirely fixated on Scar. Meanwhile Scar, who is starting to really understand how to get and keep Grian's attention, builds more and fancier infrastructure to keep Grian out. This is also where Grian really starts looking at Scar's art—the insane cliffs Scar has build around his new hangers—and awkwardly not quite managing words, because it would be very embarrassing to just outright say the word beautiful, and Grian’s a very normal and non-embarrassing person.
In the climax of the season, Grian-the-hippie breaks into General Scar’s base.
Nobody can say that Scar making himself a top brass general and Grian making himself an anti-establishment flower power hippie does not end up with plausibly-deniable not-making-out Grian-provoking-Scar-into-holding-him-against-a-wall.
but.
BUT.
This is Hermitcraft. It’s temporary. Scar and Grian both know it was a bit. A bit they both got super into, sure! But a bit. Not weird at all.
(“Sure, mate, not weird at all,” Mumbo says, after all of this is over. “Then why are you making it SOUND weird Mumbo you’re the WORST”)*
(“Sooo....” Cub says, and Scar says, “I know. I know!”)*
*not canon but you can't tell me it didn't happen off screen
FLIRTING (But What About…) – early Season 7
Okay, so that was weird, but Grian is definitely still in love with Mumbo. The Mumbo pursuit is going great and Mumbo definitely doesn’t look nervous whenever Grian turns up with a new idea. Grian is going to get Mumbo to fall in love with him and they will marry in the spring and have a dozen beautiful children redstone contraptions.
Grian attempts to make it more official with Mumbo. Surely they have been flirting long enough, they are ready for the next stage! This is in no way a reaction to Scar becoming a weird wizard in a way very unsettling to Grian and building the kind of wild organic tangled forest build that Grian is fascinated by but can't even begin to comprehend.
Everything is very under control in Grian's life. He's now official boyfriends with Mumbo. They live together and have a messaging system and everything.
Mumbo announces he’s moving out.
It’s-not-you-it’s-me
You’re… you’re moving out? Grian says, in the smallest possible voice.
We’ll still have the messaging system, Mumbo says, unconvincingly.
FINE, Grian says, I’m moving out TOO.
Mumbo moves out.
Grian deals with this in the healthiest possible way. He invents a mayorship and attempts to give it to Mumbo.
Grian is Mumbo’s self-appointed campaign manager so Mumbo has to be round him ALL THE TIME, it’s for the CAMPAIGN, Mumbo.
Mumbo, a man who doesn’t deal well with pressure or responsibility, is maybe not the ideal choice for mayor, something that has escaped Grian entirely.
Mumbo builds a robot and attempts to palm off all responsibility for decision-making onto it. Grian immediately calls it their son.
Grian puts his moustache all over the server.
NO other hermits support them for mayor (except Scar, from a lost bet, who Grian has continued to have intensely weird flirtations with while all this is happening)
Things reach a fever pitch. Election day arrives. Mumbo doesn’t want this actually but try telling Grian that. The entire MumboGrian edifice that Grian has obsessively and wildly build has reached an unsustainable pitch and finally comes tumbling down around them.
Mumbo votes Scar for mayor.
Grian votes Scar for mayor.
Mumbo disappears for several weeks to do some nice soothing redstone and calm down.
FLIRTING (Civil War) – late Season 7
Everything has calmed down now. Scar is mayor. Mumbo is...somewhere. Grian is going to work on his base normally.
Grian has a new project. He wants to build in the new nether biomes. He builds a huge and echoing and obsessively inverse version of his huge and echoing and obsessively symmetrical mansion base. It's very impressive. It's totally hollow. There's... no one else here.
Grian decides that okay, he is going to bring PEOPLE here.
He invites Mumbo, because he hasn't seen him in weeks. He invites Bdubs, because Grian above all loves genius. And he invites Scar. Because of course. Everything major Grian does now, Scar is an of course.
Bdubs shows up! Generously builds Grian's entire mansion interior. Mumbo shows up. Builds a tiny upside down disco shack.
Scar does not show up.
Scar is being mayor! Scar is a very busy and important man! Scar has spent the last few weeks obsessively replacing every single goddamn mycelium block in the shopping district with beautifully tailored grass and making trees whose flowers are diamonds. He's also got his own megabase going on. For once Scar has so much to do it's even enough for Scar's ambitions, which have never been small.
He does not come when Grian calls.
Grian is Not Happy.
This is the point where Grian starts a steadily more unhinged campaign of leaving Scar invitations. He makes little tailor's dummies of himself and delivers them to Scar's house. He sets up a tea party of three grians in a secret space under Scar's mayoral throne. He hangs himself in effigy on the tip of Scar's megadrill build. Normal behavior.
And then when Scar still doesn't notice, he puts a tiny bit of mycelium back on one of the streets of the shopping district.
This starts… THE MYCELIUM WARS
Scar attempts to contain the growing mycelium patch with warning tape.
Grian spreads more mushroom spores.
Scar brings in his allies to help contain the growing mushroom patches.
Grian digs out an underground rebel HQ, recruits several rebels, and declares himself Motherspore.
Mayor Scar stares into a camera and uses his most velvety baritone to proclaim he will hunt down Grian and the mycelium resistance and bring them to justice.
Grian sets loose mushroom-spreading sheep.
Mayor Scar obsessively searches for his base.
Grian and Impulse build several decoy bases and trap them.
Mayor Scar employs Mumbo to strip-mine every block of the shopping district with redstone tunnel-borers.
Eventually Deputy Mayor Bdubs, having his own thing with rebel Etho, tricks all of the resistance into ender-pearling into jail.
Scar gets to threaten to pour lava on an imprisoned Grian for ten minutes straight and they’re both enjoying this so much.
Grian: Scar! SCAR! Scar Scar Scar no Scar no Scar no listen Scar
Scar: Yes?
Grian: …Let’s take this somewhere else.
They ‘take this’ to Scar’s beautifully-appointed mayoral office. Grian sits on the arm of his chair (I don’t know what to tell you, this is on-screen canon).
Grian: So I know how to end the war.
Grian: We have to play minigames and make personal bets.
Grian: And Scar, Scar, if you lose…
Scar: Yes?
Grian: … you have to help build my base.
Entire room: [stunned silence]
Etho: Is this what it was about the whole time, Grian?
So! That happened. And the thing is, they could both mentally pass off the area 77 general/hippie stuff as Just A Fun Bit That Got Very Intense.
They can't do this with the mayor/motherspore stuff. They are basically making out on Scar’s chair. The resistance have noticed. The mayoral staff have noticed. EVERYONE has noticed.
Scar is into it. Scar is going along with it. Scar knows he’d had a crush for a long time, and he isn't scared of swimming with a huge wave, never mind where it's going to break. Scar has always embraced the rush. With Grian, you never know what’s going to happen next.
Grian has always loved being around Scar because there’s so much going on that you don’t have to think. Grian doesn’t have to think until everything’s calmed down. It's not until now that he stops and realizes… could this be… something.
(Maybe it already is.)
And then, by whatever eldritch mechanic you personally favor:
3rd life begins.
HEAD-OVER-HEELS – Third Life
In the tiny claustrophobic stripped-bare world of Third Life, Grian makes a choice. Grian thinks, for once very, very clearly: what if it wasn't a bit? What if it was real. What if Grian took every explosive piece of who he was and handed it over to someone he's—okay, he'll admit it—someone he's been obsessed with for a long time. What if that heady sparkle he's been seeing in the corner of his vision is true. What happens if you grab it with both hands?
Scar—surprised, bemused, amazed but wrong-footed—almost doesn't know what to DO with this.
Scar is so used to Grian layering all his obsession behind a thick layer of irony and drama and second-guessing and schemes. ‘Sure we can make out but only if I'm trailing mushroom spores and you're wearing that sash.’ ‘I'm only here because Mumbo's not around.’ ‘It’s not a thing.’ ‘It's not real.’
But it is real.
And, for once, Scar hears a tiny alarm go off in his brain. Scar knows Grian better than anyone else does, by now, and even he doesn't know where this ends. Grian is a force of nature and Scar has never been his unfiltered target. But Grian's throwing himself into this, throwing himself at Scar. And Scar always says 'yes.' 'Yes, and.' 'Yes, let's'. Scar never wants less of Grian. Scar has always taken what he can get.
But with that warning bell, Scar does try to keep that slight layer of dramatic distance, even in this new world where you can die and not come back, even if they don't know if they'll get out of this alive. Scar doesn't fully buy into Grian's second-in-command-devotion, he forces a space for Grian to still be the Grian he knows, some kind of safety vent (‘here's a bee on a lead’). And it could be a lot of reasons, but part of it is…Grian's head-over-heels, for once, and Scar has the unfamiliar feeling of needing to be the one to look where they're going.
Because where they're going is: the last two, all their friends dead, not knowing if there's any way to survive but knowing their friends haven't come back, and at that point Scar takes off the very last of his brakes and the very last of his reservations and says:
For everything you've done for me you can kill me.
(I want this. I want it to be you.)
This breaks Grian absolutely and completely.
And not broken in the fun way! Grian is too far in. Grian let go of Mumbo, who was safe because Mumbo never let it get too far, and he took a risk on Scar, and now Grian is discovering that he didn’t even know what risk meant. Grian is in emotional pain he never suspected existed. Grian has let himself put all his gambling chips on someone who wasn't SAFE and he has lost.
Grian has LOST SCAR and he has LOST HIMSELF and he has FOUND OUT HE CAN BE HURT and he is never going to be the fucking same again.
Scar is in the pond with Grian’s sword at his unresisting neck. And Scar is going to die, and Scar (damn him damn him) has turned it into: he's going to die for Grian. Now Grian is hurting, he's complicit, it turns out grief is an inevitable part of love and beauty, this is all it's taken for Grian's worldview to fall apart in pieces he can't pick up, and Grian has no defenses against pain so there's obviously no way to cope except to beat Scar to death in a cactus ring and jump off a cliff.
AFTERMATH – Season 8
They wake up in Hermitcraft.
They wake up in Hermitcraft! Scar is delighted to find out they just reincarnate, after all that!
Sure, they've all got some lingering trauma but Scar has never let that stop him from doing anything. Scar thought that whole thing went well! He just about dares to think...romantic...? Maybe...?
Grian is Normal to him.
Grian is so fucking normal. it's like. s6 normal.
Scar is. kind of. confused.
Grian is NOT acting like someone he had a romantic death match with.
(Grian is falling apart, but if there's one thing Grian has proved in his building it’s that he’s SO. fucking. good. at facades.)
(Don't go round the back.)
Neither of them are ready for the death game to repeat.
DIVORCE (Traumatic) – Last Life, Season 8
Second death game. Grian deals with his trauma super well by isolating Scar, stealing all his friends, tricking a life out of him, dropping his horse in lava, forcing him into an extortion death loop, then abandoning him and—just as a bonus—murdering Mumbo as well.
This time it’s Scar who comes back falling apart.
A theory that seems plausible: Scar’s old friend Cub picks him up, puts him back together, gets him on his feet. What we do know is that Cub moves in next to Boatem, where Scar is still living with Grian, and incidentally builds an enormous dripstone megabiome that is coincidentally very hostile and might murder you upon landing if you're someone who flies a lot, or happens to be a bird.
There’s a hole with an endless dark void between Scar and Grian’s Boatem bases. They built it together. It’s around this time they both keep repeatedly falling in it.
DIVORCE (But When It Was Good It Was So Good) – Season 8, Double Life
Then the moon gets big. Gets close. Gravity breaks down and that should be the end, should be a way out of this terrible spiral they're in, surely they're better without each other—
Grian turns up at Scar's base and says: Scar. Build us an escape pod.
—and Scar does.
They go out together. Both of them can feel the pull back into each other’s orbit but they’ll die if they acknowledge it. At the end of it all, the void, the protective suits, the unbearable gravity of falling into space together, of holding each other until another uncertain end. They're nowhere but they're in it together.
Is this a good time for another death game? Of course. How much worse can it get.
Double Life, and this time Scar keeps his distance. My soulmate is this allay! My soulmate is my cat! I don’t need a soulmate. Oh—it’s Grian? This whole time? Hahaha. How funny.
Grian: Soo… do you want to base together?
Scar: Do we have to?
Grian: It…might be nice…?
Scar is wary.
He has been burned.
But the pull is still there. The pull is always there. You can’t forget Grian, but you can blunt the edge of him on your skin. Scar is here to take care of these cat-pandas. Grian can do what he likes.
Cheated of Scar’s full attention, Grian tries to tempt BigB into a pale imitation of the Scarian folie à deux (BigB is a genuinely nice man who does not deserve this).
The rest of the server turn red, one by one. Grian and Scar are the last greens. BigB is audibly nervous when Grian proposes a red-green alliance, even though BigB is the red, he has the power. But Grian can’t escape the rest of the server, and the red hunt begins.
Grian and Scar, hunted—trapped at the top of flaming towers, jumping from heights, chased down like foxes at bay, crammed into boltholes with their hands over each other’s mouths, Grian shrieks and laughs and falls back on Scar and Scar catches him and they’re both as alive and elated as they’ve ever been. Scar dies once to Ren and BigB’s zombies and Grian murders both BigB and Ren in revenge (BigB was right to be nervous). Grian has another unhinged murder plan underway when he dies for the last time.
This whole time, Grian was hit in the face by remembering that when it's good, it's so good.
Scar isn’t surprised. Scar has known that forever.
Back in Hermitcraft, its not magically fixed. They’re not innocent any more. But every time Grian looks at Scar he remembers: when it’s good, it’s so good.
And Scar never forgot.
DIVORCE (We’re In Love And We’re Not Done Yet) – Season 9, Limited Life
By now we're into Season 9. They’re still alive. They always live, they always start again, and the other one is just there. Being, infuriatingly and magnetically, them.
Grian is thoroughly annoyed by Scar’s new allegiance to King Ren, but he keeps coming back to Scarland anyway. Scar, I made you an obstacle course. Scar, stand here and get squashed by this anvil. Scar if you don’t do something I’m going to start a resistance.
Grian pretends King Ren doesn’t exist and he has more important things to do, and pretends this so hard that he incidentally invents a mad science robot pulls them all through into the Empires dimension.
Scar, assuming Grian is doing his own thing, shacks up with Jimmy.
It takes Grian three weeks to notice and be shriekingly outraged.
Scar we’re doing a project. Scar you can’t spend all your time with Jimmy! Join my cult. Get in my shrinking machine. I made you an enchanted netherite bow. I need your allegiance. (Another real quote).
Scar teases Grian for weeks then instantly abandons Jimmy when the choice comes down to him or Grian.
Fourth death game—they’re used to this, now. Nothing too intense. Nothing too weird. Grian can’t help murdering Scar.
At this point, Scar is starting to read it as: I love you.
And that’s how we get to the current Scarian dynamic we know and love of you're the worst and I'm the worst and we've divorced a few time but we still like each other so fucking much.
It's been years. They've killed each other every possible way. These two characters are in love and they're not done yet.
#scarian#grian#goodtimeswithscar#hermitshipping#yes canon IS a grand romantic arc#to be super clear: i don't think any of this was cc intention#but we can have a little narrative framing fun#as a treat#i think nearly all of this is true to canon except some timing vagueness and the dialogue in parentheses#thank you to the hivemind for theory help#long post#glossywrites
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Do you have any gegg theory’s or predictions? My personal theory is that gegg is a mix of a parasite and a hivemind similar to the infection in hallowknight! I think q!slime is slowly succumbing to the hivemind maybe
Thank you for the ask anon, yes I do! also apologies for the late reply I had a lot of thoughts to gather about this >:D
(bit of a long post)
I really like that parasite/hivemind theory too, honestly it makes sense! gegg does always say “we are gegg” and now it can multiply, and is in lucky duck crates (???) so that’s a really fun possibility. Just a hollowknight-style infection of geggs overtaking the server sounds like pure chaos. I saw a crazy theory once either on here or twt, can’t remember about what if the mine fumes at Slime’s Eggxile had a parasite that got absorbed into him… o_o
Personally I still really enjoy the idea of gegg being part of q!Slime’s mental manifestation taken form, because the psychological implications are fascinating for the character arc >:D
Gegg is him wanting to know how it feels to be childlike, an egg and be cared for, loved, after what happened with juanaflippa. how could this develop further? The Gegg side of his identity is already becoming a bit separated, it’s getting harder for Slime to remember things and change back… would he start fading? Would the other characters have to help bring him back?
Also recently I’ve noticed that the two have kinda switched in behavior. Gegg has been acting super wise and Slime is acting more with childlike wonder, like he’s asking for bedtime stories lol
And oh man. If Gegg really got elected as president (if my silly guy lives that long) I know any arc Slime does with that would go so crazy. Like take all these theories we’ve got and make them 10x crazier
a cool story plot/prediction I had an idea about is Gegg, who wants to take down the Federation, but then Slime gets approached by the Federation with the promise of getting Juanaflippa back if he helps them. So the two aspects of himself would basically be on different sides… idk what the end goal of this would be, but it would be cool and emotional
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I genuinely had no idea the Siete Anon was looking at the voice lines on that particular day, I just noticed that his transcendence and holiday lines were transcribed but missing translations. That's an incredible coincidence though.
And thank you and your friend so much again for adding the voice lines! That's really cool.
Funnily enough, I was originally planning to do Lu Woh's lines next, because I want to know what he's saying and then changed my mind at the last second, to join in the bullying instead. Maybe there is something to your anon hivemind theory after all...
this is incredible FOR REAL??? what sort of coincidence is that holy shit.
There's something about how the hivemind keeps alligning during days like this it's incredible holy shit.
And <33 it's a pleasure always! very happy to be of help and it just worked out ;D
and HELLO?????? genuinely what the hell. I am going through a few asks rn and i've got a few anons about how they were doing Lu Woh related things before the announcement of his VA being in the Granblue TV, it's one of the many ones i.............. this is incredible. Woah.
Something scary is going on here i swear.
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For my second interview, I spoke to Crab Rave. Here’s what he had to say.
“To start, is there anything you’d like to let the readers know about yourself?”
CR: "Well uh, let's see...my name is Scott Dorsey, I'm part of Delta Zeta's Magma Squadron, and I'm Crab Rave."
“What did you do before you came to Delta?”
CR: "Pfft, very good question. I used to sell drugs, actually. Amphetamines."
“And Delta helped you get out of that?”
CR: "It did, yeah. Delta's probably the best thing that ever happened to Klugetown."
“Do you have any words for fans who may be involved in that world you came from, buying or selling?”
CR: "Nothing they haven't heard a million times. That world can be impossible to get out of. It's a matter of taking responsibility for yourself. I'm not going to act like I'm a martyr or anything though. I didn't pull myself out of that life, Sequence pulled me out."
“I understand. When you’re not on duty, what do you do?
CR: "Training takes up a lot of my time, but outside of Delta I've got my own company that keeps me pretty occupied. I don't really get a spare second in the day anymore. Honestly though, I'm fine with that, I like being busy. Anything's better than being bored."
“I see. Your power is crustacean swarming, is there a minimum number of crabs that you can turn into?”
CR: "Three hundred seems to be the bare minimum I can do. I prefer to keep it in the thousands."
“Is Crustacean Swarming the core you had in mind when going into Delta?”
CR: "I didn't have *anything* in mind when I first went to Delta. I hadn't even heard of it when I was scouted. When they had me looking over the shortlist of powers, I didn't really feel strongly one way or the other about any of them. I was apathetic. Sequence came down and talked to me because I couldn't decide, and when he was done talking to me, he thanked me for the meeting and then left. He picked out my core that night and I got it the same night. It was a perfect fit. No idea how he knew."
“What is it like inhabiting multiple bodies at once?”
CR: "Surprisingly normal. It feels just like having one body. You're perceiving a lot more with your senses, but you're still one mind. It just feels like being a bunch of little chunks of yourself, I guess."
“I imagine it might be a disorientating experience at first. Is that accurate to how it was when you first began using your power?”
CR: "Oh yeah, for sure. You're perceiving so much at once that you can't really tell where you're facing or which way is up or anything. Definitely disorienting."
“I see. Are you happy with how you performed in the recent tournament?”
CR: "The Neph? Yeah, sure. I mean, it was just for fun anyway, but I still made it pretty far. I'd say that's good enough for me. Mostly I'm just really happy that Berg won. She's a good friend of mine and a really incredible super."
“When one of your crabs are hit by an attack, how are the rest affected?”
CR: "They're super tiny crabs, so they can't really take a hit. They just poof if they do. Then they're just out of the hivemind, simple as that."
“Would you be able to reform yourself from a single crab?”
CR: "If the number went under 300, I'd turn back into me."
“I see. As for the mechanics of your core, does your entire body transform regardless of the number of crabs? Or would it be possible to have smaller swarm and still fight with your regular body?”
CR: "I have to give up my whole body."
“Ah. I had a theory about hiding a small swarm in a secure location, but it seems that strategy wouldn’t really be as viable as I hoped for the tournament.”
CR: "Hah, nah. Wouldn't work."
“Has being in the form of a crab affected your opinion on eating them as food?”
CR: "Hah! No way. Crab's delicious."
“Have you had any trouble with wild creatures trying to eat your crabs while working?”
CR: "Nah. I don't usually end up working out where wild animals are. I work for the city, after all. Besides, Klugetown's in the desert, not a lot of animals."
“I see. Are there any media projects that you’re currently working on for Delta that you can talk about?”
CR: "Nah, nothing right now. I can say that pretty confidently. There are a lot of supers and a lot of squadrons in Delta. Working their way down to us Zeta teams takes a while."
“About your suit, were you involved in the design process?”
CR: "I was! A bit, at least. I was consulted on what I'm comfortable wearing and I was interviewed a bit to get a feel for my personality. Ultimately, the design comes down to Seam Splitter's amazing mind."
“Were there a few different concept sketches, or is the first design she came up with the one we know and love?”
CR: "There were definitely a few different sketches, she's got sketches all over her office. None that I got to see, but there were definitely a couple iterations of the suit before she got to this one. Her job's super complicated, it's hard designing clothing for someone who turns into a thousand crabs."
“I imagine it is. Do you have any fond memories or stories that the fans might be interested in from back when you were training to use your core?”
CR: "I mean, I wish I had something exciting to say, but not particularly. My core's pretty straightforward in use, unlike some of my friends' cores. It's kind of an on or off thing, I'm crabs or I'm not crabs. Luckily I've never had any trouble switching between the two forms."
“Is there an upper limit to how many crabs you can turn into?”
CR: "As long as I don't exceed my own mass, nope."
“Ah. So you can only produce a number of crabs, the combined weight of which can’t exceed your own weight. So then higher numbers mean smaller crabs?”
CR: "Exactly."
“Have you had any interesting fan interactions since starting this career?”
CR: "Well pr-"
Wouldn’t you know it, the interview got cut short by a call to super duty. It was incredible and exciting! I can only hope that the interview didn’t have an impact on whatever happened. I apologize for the delay in the article being posted, I’m currently working on some changes to be made to my interview format. Watch for my next interview, featuring Dreamwalker, coming soon!
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jib 7 breakdown and analysis
a little while ago i said that i am open to requests for making analysis posts when it comes to cockles panels and just cockles in general, and i got quite a few responses. the first person who asked me was my lovely tea anon, and the panel in question is jib 2016 aka jib 7.
first of all i want to give you my take on the overall vibe, and then second of all i will get into the details and link to certain timestamps in the video.
standard disclaimer: i am not gonna be linking to every single thing i talk about, but i will try my best to link to the moments that stand out to me the most. my recommendation would be to watch the panel in its entirety alongside my comments. i have read long posts about this panel before, so not everything in this post is gonna be original or said for the first time ever, simply because there is a good chance that information has stuck in my mind and has subconsciously formed my view of this panel. this is also in no way, shape or form gonna be coherent, unfortunately. i’m just gonna hope that the cockles hivemind will be able to make sense of this regardless. love and light. and lastly, this is all in good fun, so don’t come at me if you think this is too out there please and thank you.
the overall vibe that this panel gives me is that jensen and misha are a unity at this point. they are in sync with each other, and this whole panel is very relaxed and in good spirits. there is also the fact that their outfits match very well. and with jensen ross ackles involved, that cannot be a coincidence, so i love that a lot.
another thing that i cannot ignore is that it’s also a very sexual panel, with a lot of double meanings and innuendos and remarks that can be read as sexual if you are as pervy as me.
now let’s get into the specifics.
although i am sure this is not going to be news for any of you, i feel like a little background knowledge is in order. before this panel, misha had had a panel that day with j*red. the mishalecki panel was really fucking funny and filled with sexual innuendos.
between these two panels, it appears that there was a break in which they all had nothing to do (i am basing this off other people’s experiences and reports that i have read in the past, as i unfortunately wasn’t there myself).
considering how this panel goes, i think there is a good chance that jensen and misha just had sex beforehand. and based on both of their demeanors, one could draw certain conclusions about who did what (i honestly don’t like talking about who tops and who bottoms because who gives a shit and things are rarely that black and white, but all i’m gonna say is that even though jensen has joked about his asshole before, jensen and misha clearly said switch rights).
from the very first second. the VERY FIRST SECOND. jensen is sauntering on stage like he is thee man. then the crowd is cheering ‘one more time’, and jensen looks at misha, starts cheering too, and makes a movement that is bordering on obscene before waving it away. conclusion: ‘one more time’ could also mean ‘one more round of hot steaming sex’ and he still had sex on the brains, so that was what he was thinking about.
ahhh, the intricate ritual [1m34s] of greeting each other on stage as if you haven’t spoken to each other all day, even though you probably just had sex….. jensen ackles, i wanna study you. i wonder what the deal is with that. does he just like to pay misha extra attention on stage? does he revel in the fact that he knows that fans like this sort of interaction? can he just not help himself? questions that keep me up at night.
also, there is just SOMETHING about the way jensen says ‘i’m doing well how are you?’ it’s almost flustered? borderline shy? and then he goes on to say that he did an impression of misha earlier, in a manner that’s just so flirty. idk guys. it’s flirty. kindergarten flirty, but flirty nonetheless.
misha, of course, immediately turns his entire body towards him. almost as if they both already forgot there is an audience in front of them. then he just gets closer and closer to jensen, for no reason whatsoever except for the pure magnetic pull they have on each other. pray4misha.
i think it is a testament to how in sync they are that misha immediately realises that jensen mentioned bicycle touring during his ‘impression of misha’, and i love the moment where jensen puts on an accent (something that misha normally does) and goes ‘is like sport’ and misha laughs and goes ‘is very similar to sport’ and they both lose it. idk, i feel like that might be a sort of inside joke to them as well.
this might be slightly reaching, but hear me out: right away, jensen goes: ‘oh by the way, sore?’ why would he say ‘by the way’? what is he thinking about when he says that? is it about ‘is very similar to sport’? because i could totally see them having sex and refering to it as ‘well that’s kind of like a sport’, as an inside joke. it works. i’m just saying!!!
look. i know this back and forth has been discussed to death. we all know that the implication is that jensen fucked misha and misha is kind of stunned that jensen actually goes there. so stunned that he repeats it: ‘sore? am i sore?’ almost as if to stall a bit in his response. yikes.
i think that it’s fair to say that this is something jensen enjoys doing: riling misha up on stage. because a lot of the time, misha has the upper hand on stage (probably also in the bedroom but that’s another conversation), but sometimes. sometimes jensen just can’t help but throw a lil oil onto the fire. (see also: underbear panel, throwing himself on stage to get straddled, etc).
misha goes on to say that ‘after the panel with j*red’ he is quite sore. you can take that at face value, and think ‘oh so he is joking around that the panel with j*red made him sore haha’ or you can see a little bit of the truth shine through: literally after that panel, something happened that made him sore. it’s always easier to lie when you are bending the truth.
i actually can’t believe i never connected the dots before, but when misha deflects and says ‘oh you’re talking about the bike riding’ jensen is quick to say: ‘oh no i was talking about what just happened’ but instead of pointing at the stage (which is where the previous panel took place) he is gesturing to backstage. i mean…. way to feed into my ‘they just had sex backstage’ theory, jackles. thanks for that.
i cannot get over the way jensen is looking at misha throughout this whole ordeal, but especially when he goes ‘you heard it here first, folks’ and misha walks up to him. THAT FACE. fuck him. he’s so gone.
sidenote: i have never wished to be able to read lips as much as i have since i have stumbled upon these two morons, because i WISH i could see what misha is mouthing to jensen. i know there is some spec that he might have said ‘i am a little bit’ (aka he is a little bit sore) and i could see that, but i just want to know for sure. and even though i have seen people state that jensen would have already known about the panel with j*red, i think it’s possible misha hadn’t filled jensen in yet, seeing as they probably were doing something other than talking.
let me take this moment to tell y’all about one of my jenmish theories, and that is: i think that jensen sometimes is overprotective of misha and that can come across as jealousy when it’s actually just worry. and i think this panel is a good example of that.
misha says [4m25s] that in italy they call come influence and jensen just. straight up looks at misha like ‘what the fuck did you do, what mess did you get yourself into this time?’ this is another reason why i believe he actually didn’t know about what happened during that panel yet: the reaction looks very authentic. you see his eyes shift from one side to the other and back again, as he is trying to process it. and honestly when you look at misha, his face goes through this journey of ‘this is funny’ to ‘shit is this maybe going a bit too far?’ and ending on ‘okay wrap it up wrap it up’. this is further solidified by the fact that jensen starts to mime digging a grave (aka ‘digging your own grave’).
misha tries to ‘change the subject’ by saying cas is the bottom in the implied relationship with sam and jensen immediately brings it back to sports. see what i meant when i said that they are tying sex and sports together? here jackles goes again, doing exactly that. for no reason whatsoever. (except to once again proof my point).
WHY [5m50s] do they both burst out laughing at ‘tight end’ why why why i don’t wanna know but why why also quick reminder of ‘are you sore at all’ help i am just. EVERY DAY they are making me perceive things and connect dots and i do not like it. anyways i’m not saying that this is all very graphic stuff about their sex lives but i’m also not not saying it, you feel? jensen’s face says it all tbh. on a more wholesome note: i love the fact that they basically wanted to say ‘we should take questions’ at the same time. again: in sync.
when the first person to ask a question said ‘this is a serious question’ misha goes to explain to jensen that that was a joke during his panel with j*red, another reason to believe that he hadn’t told jensen about the panel yet. jensen’s face there…. heart eyes motherfucker.
i really don’t see enough people talk about the ‘safe word’ [6m38s] bit. jensen is the one to bring it up ‘so we should probably establish a safe word at this point. mine is keep going.’ misha laughs, and then realises what jensen has said, and (here comes my dom/sub truthing) teases jensen by saying ‘what is your safe word?’ to which jensen replies ‘keep going’ but LOOK at jensen’s face after he says that. he shakes his head with a little smirk and looks at misha with such a knowing look in his eyes that says ‘you fucker you know damn well what my safe word is’ and he actually does a double take and immediately rolls his eyes at himself after that. it’s all very quick but it’s far from subtle and i am here for it.
i fucking love this next part because when the person says ‘a real story about the real jensen and the real misha’ they both are just like ‘yes okay’ but as soon as they say ‘that you have never told anyone before’ jensen just looks down and moves his head as if to say ‘what the hell am i supposed to come up with then’ lmao it’s really funny, and they end it with: ‘to know you a little bit better’ and guys (gn) i beg of you to look at the way they look at each other here. [7m24s] jensen is just like ‘help wtf should we say to this’ and misha just smiles down at him fondly like ‘sigh our fans really want us to talk about our relationship and as much as we would love to share stuff we just can’t’.
when misha says ‘we have to dust off some of those stories that we usually try not to tell other people’, something comes to mind: the ‘3 least ordered items on the menu’ story, that jensen shared a year after this at honcon. i honestly think that maybe they started to talk about what else they could share with the public, after this panel, because they get similar questions like this one all the time. either that or jensen just thought about what he felt comfortable sharing, without talking to misha about it, and decided to tell that story.
i also absolutely love when they say ‘this is a serious question’ at the same time. AGAIN: IN SYNC!!!
‘i actually have a voice for you’ jensen can you please tell me why this sounds flirty and charming while you are actually about to make fun of your husband? i hate you (no i don’t) the fact that misha immediately knows what will happen, says a lot.
then jensen says: ‘dust off an old story for uhh..’ and burst out laughing. i swear to god i’d give my left pinkie to know what came to mind and what he whispered into misha’s ear. and i’m left handed. but i think we can all agree that whatever jensen said, it was something sexual, seeing as misha goes ‘nope’. those fuckers (affectionate).
something that i have mentioned in the past is that jensen always sort of ‘jokey’ goes ‘oh shit’ whenever misha says he’ll share something personal/private about them. i mean. jensen, it would be less sus if you didn’t respond. just giving you some pointers here, bro. because misha almost never shares something strange, it’s actually your reaction that makes me go ‘hmmmm.’ this time he even gets kind of elaborate breathing?? [10m27s]
oh to be a fly in clif’s car… honestly, the things clif must have heard and witnessed lmao. he clearly knows what is up between them (has made enough remarks about thinking that misha would be the bottom and that misha on his knees was nothing new for me to see that he absolutely knows.)
this isn’t really important when it comes to cockles but they talk a bit about j*red’s internet dispute with at&t and jensen goes ‘oh they know’ gesturing to the audience. so clearly, jensen is well aware of the fact that fandom gets involved whenever something happens online with any one of them. just. thought that is an interesting fact. just in general. also love how i can tell that they both think j*reds crusades are bullshit (as they should).
there is something really cute [14m13s] about the way misha goes ‘do you want your apple juice?’ and jensen goes ‘yeah!’ it sounds so domestic and mundane and i just. god i love them so much.
i know we talk about jensen’s heart eyes a lot. but y’all. look [14m52s] at misha right here. he’s SO in love.
the thing that strikes me about jensen putting on ‘that voice’ for misha is that misha is honestly not bothered by it at all, but i think if the shoe was on the other foot, jensen would definitely be bothered. i don’t know what conclusion to draw from that but i just thought that is interesting. i always laugh at that bit, though, they seem to have so much fun.
i REALLY wanna know how jensen got from ‘will you dance for us?’ to ‘no but i’ll tell you what, misha and i will write a song for you real quickly.’ it’s such a fast transition that i am tempted to think that this was something he had been thinking about for a while now. he just wanted his mish to sing a song. and that warms my heart.
if you think i will ever get over how soft jensen is here… ‘you’re smart, you think on your feet, you make brilliant videos, put them on facebook, write amazing texts (*coughs* poems) and tweets and stuff, go ahead. spit out some lyrics, big guy.’ there is not one single thing about this that i do not adore. an ode to misha!!!! so casually!!! fuck. it might be true that if you want jensen to do something, you get misha to ask him, but it’s certainly also true the other way around.
the way jensen just. stares [19m02s] at misha, trying to get inspired by him, trying to feel out what cords to play. yeah. the way misha stands up but instinctively turns to jensen when he starts to sing. yeah. and then during the remainder of the song, he keeps on turning to jensen even though he faces the audience. and jensen loved it all. it’s so sweet. idk why but it just is. jensen just wanted his babe to thrive and get the love he deserves.
aaaand in comes the dom shake [20m37s]. we love to see it. jensen just keeps on looking at mish. almost gets lost in it. touches his inner thigh (one of his habits, which he does a lot around misha or when talking about misha).
i think it’s very interesting that jensen’s reaction [22m11s] to the question if he thinks dean will ever find a way to have a romantic relationship and to find himself in between normal and supernatural, is to immediately looks at misha. like? what was the reason? did he expect misha to answer a question that wasn’t about cas but about dean? did he think he should maybe answer it in a destiel-like manner? was he worried that the fan was hoping for a destiel-like answer and was he looking at misha to gauge what he thought was a smart way to respond? so many questions.
i think it’s pretty interesting that jensen was very aware of the fact that people did not wanna see dean end up with a huntress lmao. he absolutely was aware of so many fandom things.
when jensen said that misha just crossed the line [23m40s], it’s another example of how jensen is ultra aware of what misha says and how it could get him into trouble and by the sounds of it, misha knows that as well but he just can’t always stop himself in time. from what we can see, he often realises just after he has already said something (when it is already too late).
listen. the fact that misha says ‘when harry met sally’ BEFORE the question was even finished, and jensen LAUGHS, like??? that panel was 5 years ago at that point. it clearly made a lot of impact on the both of them (jeez i wonder why, could it be because misha faked an orgasm and jensen got excited? hmm. who knows.)
i think the dance portion is so fucking hilarious i’m wheeeezing. literally. they are just moving randomly AND YET THEY STILL SORT OF ARE IN SYNC? amazing.
you wanna know what i find really cute? the fact that jensen has such a soft spot for the resume off. part of me thinks it’s because they had a resume off in both 2012 and 2013.
and jib 2012 took place during the famously rumored break up period. i wouldn’t be surprised if jib 2013 was that much more special to him because they finally got to make it right again. don’t look at me i’m getting emotional (on that note…… i might wanna write something about the break up period at some point. but idk. i mean. it’s a lot to delve into especially since i wasn’t in the fandom back then but. it compels me. we’ll see i guess.)
okay i know i keep saying this but they are SO in sync, as soon as they talk about photo ops and jensen goes ‘and to dab a little salt in the wound’ misha knows what he is gonna say, and they stand up together to demonstrate what happened. AND they both go ‘that’s not the punchline’ they are husbands.
misha and jensen have both “twirled away laughing” in the EXACT same manner during this panel: misha when jensen starts to read the script, and jensen right here when misha says ‘what’s it like to be in a successful long running show’. they are mirrors. listen. listen. i know my mind is in the gutter a LOT of the time but like. uhm. there is this moment where they recall a woman saying in the photo op to ‘eat it’ (the string candy she gave to them) and misha says ‘and so we did’ and jensen looks at misha and it is SUCH an incriminating look i mean i don’t wanna be that person but 5 bucks he was thinking about eating misha out i am JUST SAYING. LITERALLY LOOK AT HIS FACE. [28m55s]
misha teases [7m02s] jensen by saying ‘what did you do? did you actually do it on purpose orrrr’ and i think it was to make jensen elaborate on it. which i think is a fucking good way to pull that off when it comes to jensen. cause jensen doesn’t like to brag, which misha knows, so by making that joke he is essentially trying to get jackles to tell the audience more about what he did, without him feeling like he is boasting about himself. and misha looks so pleased when jensen starts talking.
fuck i literally had to pause just now because. jensen says: ‘one of the characteristics of dean that i love to play is that he can bottle those fears up, stash them away, and just go. and uhm… sometimes i wish i could do that.’
this is actually making me a bit emotional because. he took his time saying this. it was a very deliberate move. he wasn’t sorry he said anything or regretted it. he wanted to get that out there. and i just. it makes so much sense if what we all think is actually true. he wishes he could just ignore all his fears and go for it. and it’s not hard to imagine what ‘it’ could be: coming out. whether that be just about his relationship with misha or being attracted to more than women in general, just in any way shape or form. it’s poignant. and misha turns away, but you can see him sigh a little bit.
the whole bit about “apple juice” is just very cute and i enjoy it a lot. one thing i will say though is that i can kind of spot two tells of jensen: the way his face scrunches up when he is telling a lie that he thinks is clever, and the way he always leaves his chair to pour a drink when a question becomes difficult/hard/too funny to face head on. he has done both of those things time and time again, during panels with misha. just an observation.
there is this little moment [10m13s] where misha tells the story about how he used to make apple cider with worms and dirt in it and in the end he goes ‘anyways. new england apple cider everyone. highly recommend.’ and jensen echoes that, ‘highly recommend. yeah.’ and of course that could just be a way to joke around and play along with misha but i’d like to think that he has visited misha and they had some apple cider together. just because i like the thought and i can, so.
how CUTE is it that jensen remembers ‘i’ll just wait here then’, a line cas spoke 7 years prior to that panel, in a scene jensen wasn’t even in. i love it.
jensen slowly shaking his head when misha says ‘fuck’ and apologizing for it has SUCH major ‘excuse my husband’ energy. i love it.
‘i’ve got an idea’ [14m13s] ‘what? let’s do it’ misha imMEDIATELY regretted that lmaooo they are always so aware of double meanings and yet they cannot seem to help themselves. we love to see it.
can you BELIEVE jensen ‘dance monkey dance’ ackles OFFERED to shamelessly promote a movie they have nothing to do with??? jensen, who hates the fact that they have to play some sort of show on stage, actually wanted to do that with misha??? i’m just- something something if you want jensen to do anything ask misha, but apparently also: if you want jensen to do something get misha involved and he’ll love it.
and then he has the audacity to say ‘over to the wheel of love.’ i mean. i can’t.
(i don’t necessarily understand what is happening btw but that’s okay, because it leads to champagne. which is fun.)
okay so again apologies for my mind being in the gutter but jensen’s face [16m33s] when he says he is going to explain what [the champagne] tastes like……. hm. help.
honestly i just love the whole champagne bit because i love it whenever they get so playful on stage, and them “presenting” the bottle and going all ‘we know what we’re talking about’ ‘we’re kind of connaisseurs’ and the whole english accent bit. say it with me…. in sync.
jensen popping a champagne bottle is something that can be so personal…. (i’m touch starved and going crazy, leave me alone)
i absolutely love the fact that jensen notices that misha is miming taking off his pants and misha immediately runs to him to explain and jensen just goes full on protective husband mode (YET AGAIN) ‘i turn my back for 2 minutes’ lmao it’s just such old married couple behavior. an old married couple that is horny and deranged, but still.
i’ve seen the gifset of this moment [24m52s] many a times but i still think it’s so intimate. the way misha looks at jensen and walks backwards with him, for no fucking reason at all. sigh. misha’s hand clenches a little, and honestly i think he would have wanted to reach out to jensen in that moment. pat his arm or his back. and something happens a little while later that only proves my point even more…
that caress [60m5s] is probably one of the most intimate gestures i’ve seen between them. it’s so familiar. so natural. it says a lot.
and that’s the end of the panel. all in all i have to say that i enjoyed rewatching this panel with the analysis goggles on, because it’s really a very different experience and i picked up on a lot more than i did when i watched it just for fun. i think this is one of my favorite panels of theirs (at least until my next analysis lmao) because of the fact that they are so in sync with each other, which goes to show that their relationship was in such a good place (mind you i am only using past tense because i am describing a past panel, not because i think they’re not in a good place right now). this was a lot of fun folks, if you actually read all of this, god bles, you’re the best. see you next time!
#cockles#jib 7#this is very very long but in my defense this panel is an hour long#comments and thoughts are always appreciated!!
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"Gossip/anonymous radfem blogs" are the stupidest, most anti-feminist thing ever existed on this godforsaken website.
Feminist theory has been clear about a socially conditioned "impulse" (could be said better, but I'm at a loss for words rn) in women to put other women down and instead of healing yourself from this side effect of the patriarchy you're just going to fuel it? You're seriously going to make the radblr equivalent of Mean Girls' "burn book"? Do you think you're Regina George and your mutuals/followers are Cady, Gretchen and Karen?
(In that case, I would like to claim my spot as a Gretchen-fem because she's a fave of mine, thank you very much.)
No, I'm genuinely curious.
Radical feminist spaces are made for discussion and, aside from some basic beliefs that are necessary to claim you believe in a certain ideology, some issues don't have a clear cut radical feminist answer ; there are a lot of different opinions about women's relationship to mental health, mental illness diagnosis and therapy, for example.
Instead of sending a catty anon to some blog who leeches off "drama" and what mysoginists would call "catfights", why don't you try to have a productive conversation over differing points of view?
Agreeing to disagreeing is a thing and you're not forced to be all buddy buddy with everyone on radblr, but making a conscious choice to ignore someone you dislike sounds way healthier than what some of you are doing.
I cited the therapy example because I'm doing my research on Borderline Personality Disorder and developing my own opinion about it, which - surprise surprise - might be different from some other radfem's.
And does that bother me? No, because it's not enough to claim all women aren't a hivemind, you also have to practice what you preach.
There are radfems claiming it's not a real diagnosis and it's solely based in mysoginy, but I'm free to think otherwise: I agree that often the diagnosis process is mysoginistic, it's the "just go on birth control" of mental health, but I also think there are women who are genuinely described by the diagnosis criteria and sometimes there are no other conditions that describe their struggles as well as bdp does (or maybe there are, such as other conditions in co-morbidity, but a bpd diagnosis would still be a great help because it still identifies the core symptoms and patterns of someone's mental health struggle).
Something that comes off as fishy is the fact that there is no equivalent of a male bpd -- wait, actually, there is.
But the page that explains it is so laughable that is basically describes basic male behaviour, seriously take a look because I was laughing my ass off just reading it:
But aside from that, I don't think it's impossible for a female specific mental illness to have developed, despite the fact that it's not linked to women's biology (such as post-partum depression, which is certainly female specific, but more believable since it relies on a woman's biological functions).
Women have unique lived experiences and traumas ; it's not hard for me to believe in a female-specific ramification of ptsd.
See? I expressed an unsollicited, maybe controversial opinion ; I did it politely and I'm open to different points of view, it's called basic maturity.
Fuck's sake.
#rant#radfem.#radblr.#again the grammar or syntaxis might not be the best but ya know#ESL struggles 🤷♀️#radical feminism.#rad leaning.#just my two cents tbh
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so I'm considering making a tumblr because i really like youre blog (been lurking for a few months) and I wanna contribute more directly but Idk how to start. what should I do to introduce my self? how did you start being a st blog? is there anyone I should follow or reach out to? thank you from Vermont! x
I am so ashamed you sent this a week ago! I’m so sorry my lovely anon!
Welcome to the hivemind! No, just joking. Welcome anyway, though! I’m delighted that you’re thinking of joining Tumblr. I say do it. It’s one of the best platforms (in my opinion) to engage with other fandom members; and though it’s not as big/busy as it once was, it’s still a really good place to cut your teeth.
I’m not sure if there’s really a recipe for starting out. When you make a blog, the first thing would be to follow all the people you normally lurk/check. I can give you a list of some of my go-to mutuals if that will help at all. The most popular tags for ST would be #stranger things #st theory #st meta #byler and probably #st4 or #stranger things 4. I follow those tags and can generally get across most things happening in the fandom.
The next thing you must do is message me! ;) I would love to be your mutual and we can have a chat whenever you like! I started my blog precisely as outlined above. I was also working on a fic at the same time, so I just sort of teased that, posted it, and then enjoyed getting to know people as they came along. I don’t think there’s so much a magic formula so much as just being yourself. Post what you want, talk to people, be friendly and considerate - that’s it! Judging by your message, I don’t think you’ll have any issue with those things at all.
Please do consider making a blog and then come talk to me! I can be your buddy while you figure everything out. :)
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AN: Here’s chapter two!
Title: The Ripple Effect
Characters: Hordak, Entrapta, Odessa, features original characters
Pairing: Entrapdak, features other canon couples (and some fanon)
Rating: M
Read on AO3. It’s always posted there first.
Evaluation
“You want us to help you… find your dad’s… home planet?” Hydrangea questions.
“Not necessarily that,” Odessa replies. “I’ve been mulling over this the last couple of years. Wandering through space, it’s apparent that my father’s species has predominantly settled into Etherian life. But when I ask my father where we are from, he has no answer.”
“Not in the withholding information way,” Tristan clarifies.
“Exactly. In the sense he has no answer to give. Period. I’ve discussed it with my mother, and she believes it could be an exciting chance to find out where he’s from!” Odessa claps her hands together. “We know about the biology, physiology, mental health, behavior of one person. My father has been studied thoroughly for years, but his makeup can only tell us so much.”
They nod in understanding. It does make sense. He has been genetically manufactured over and over, thousands of versions of him co-existing among species that still have yet to see anything like him before. Hordak has lived among Etherians, has explored world upon world, but they know he is an anomaly. They all do.
Odessa looks down at her hands, an anomaly herself. Her parents have always been supportive of her intellectual pursuits, and this could very well be one of the greatest. She has filled a medical textbook composed of both Entrapta’s research, Hordak’s explanations, and her own observations, theories and notes about how his species operates. But what good is it if it simply applies to a single individual; that’s not applicable to how science or medical practice works.
Hydrangea pours them tea. She knows how determined Odessa can be once she sets her mind to something. There’s no stopping her once her brain gains traction on an idea. Tristan’s set face comprehends this as well.
Tristan speaks first, “When would you like us to begin?”
Odessa smirks, “Soon as you’re done with your drink.”
“Hm, of course you’d say that.”
“Damn right,” Odessa answers.
Hydrangea places her hands on her hips, “Alright, Des. We’ll get going soon as we’re done!”
“Or you could chug your chamomile in one go.”
“No.”
-
Dryl is etched further into rocky cliffs, its labyrinth excavated deep inside the mountain. Its residents welcome their princess, happy to see her return. Entrapta’s kingdom had been left to its own devices for years, even prior to Entrapta’s departure; yet they view Odessa as the rightful heir, and treat her as such. She supposes it's something to be grateful for, as it does leave them with a place to rest and organize without much interference.
Though she could do without the large paintings of herself lining the walls.
“I never get over how cute you were as a baby,” Hydrangea says, giggling. “Look how chubby you were!”
“You were so adorable,” Tristan gushes. “So innocent.”
“The sweetest little baby,” she continues. “I still want to pinch your itty bitty face!”
“Shut up,” Odessa pouts, blushing. Curse these portraits… and curse their laughter...
“Odessa! Hello, hello!”
Relieved, she turns, smiling at the friendly face, “Hi, Uncle Wrong-Man.”
Crushing her to his chest, he presses their cheeks together, “It’s been so long since I’ve seen my most favorite niece in the world!”
“You’re going to make all the other nieces jealous,” she says. Then smiles, “But it’s true.”
“I can’t help it, you were the first niece I had!”
Back on her feet, Odessa glances at the vicinity. Normally, there’s more of her uncles wandering through the halls. “Where is everyone?”
“Oh, they’re working outside or in the kitchens. We heard you were back and we felt a welcoming party would be fun!”
“You don’t have to throw one every time we come back.”
His eyes turn watery, a sad, morose frown on his features, “Oh… I see… You don’t… like my parties anymore…”
“No, no, that’s not it!” Odessa says, trying to cheer him back up. “I just meant you don’t need to go through all the trouble each visit.”
He looks up at her, ears drooping lower, “Do you like them?”
“Yes, Uncle Wrong-Man, I love your parties,” she insists. “You’re the best at it!”
In seconds, his bubbly personality returns, “Excellent! I look forward to giving you another party suited to your tastes!”
Tristan leans toward Odessa, hand held up to his mouth, “Wow, for a minute I thought I heard violins.”
“He has that dramatic flair to him,” she agrees.
“How have your parents been? I haven’t seen them yet!” W.H. asks.
“Mom and Dad are fine,” Odessa tells him, following him through the halls. The maze has been modified to be easier to map out. The first time she had come here, they had gotten lost since Entrapta couldn’t quite recall where all the secret entrances were. Odessa took it upon herself to make her own layout, and added to it whenever a change had been made. “They went to Beast Island to see how it is there.”
His ears fall for a moment, “Aw, I hope they’ll visit soon!”
“I’m sure they will,” she assures him. “They had some business to conduct over there.”
“In the meantime, what brings you to Dryl?”
“I wanted to talk to you and some of the others regarding your past,” she explains.
W.H. enters the closest kitchen, walking toward the oven. Tucking on mitts, a perplexed expression crosses his features, “Our past? My dearest niece… have you been afflicted by amnesia?”
“No, my memories serve me right,” Odessa says, patient. “I am asking for information regarding where we had come from, as a whole species. What world we originated from, what our culture was like. I had spoken with father about the matter, but he said he didn’t know due to being younger than the rest of you.”
W.H. crosses over to the countertop, removing the cookies onto a cooling rack. He is silent for a few moments, and it is clear he is choosing his words carefully, trying to understand what she’s asking. He turns, a serious mien about him, unusual on his face. “I… I’m not sure, either.”
Odessa walks over to him, “Is it because you were separated from the hivemind?”
“I don’t believe so,” he replies. Folding his arms over his chest, the fact they’re all one person reveals itself in his posture and tone. “We had been created to serve Horde Prime. Nothing more or less. And I do think that I myself had been cloned after your father. He had been Horde Prime’s general as well, and if he didn’t know, one of our elder brothers might have the knowledge you seek.”
Odessa glances at Hydrangea and Tristan, then back to her uncle. “Do you know who would?”
W.H. ponders for a minute. “Hm, no one here, I am certain. The residents of Dryl are like myself—of the younger group, since we have more people skills to associate with the Etherians.”
Hydrangea says, “I always wondered how that worked. Where you were designated and why.”
W.H. nods, “Oh, yes, we put thought into what our new purposes would be. After I helped my brother and sister with Beast Island, I came here to demonstrate how to function with Etherians!”
Tristan walks over to the counter, “Where do you recommend we go, then? Also, can I have one?”
W.H. beams, nodding enthusiastically, “Please do! I am going to make much more. But in regards to your first question, I would suggest visiting family in Mystacore or Beast Island.”
Odessa takes a cookie off the rack as well, munching. Mystacore is closer, so it would be prudent to try there before traveling to Beast Island. There are portals stationed throughout Etheria, but it’ll be worth stopping by Mystacore. She hasn’t seen anyone there at all yet. Although, it’s not as if there are many who live in the clouds, visiting her family there is always exciting.
“Thank you, Uncle Wrong-Man,” Odessa says, reaching up to kiss his cheek. “We’ll head there now!”
“Take some food with you to go,” he insists. In a flash, he’s bagging the cookies into a cellophane sack, tying it with a pink ribbon that shapes into a butterfly. “Healthy meals are important, but so are treats! Otherwise, you get moody.”
Hydrangea and Tristan are handed their own bags, much to their surprised delight. Before Odessa can accompany them out the door, W.H. stops her, giving her another, “Would you mind taking this with you for your cousin?”
Odessa smiles, “I wouldn’t mind at all.”
-
Hordak and his brothers were categorized not by their clothes, or hair dye choices, but by their eyes. Odessa and her mother had noted the various shades of eye color, their teeth matching them the most; however, inside of their mouths, it adjusts to mimic the change as well, affecting the tongue and beneath it, gums, hard and soft palates, uvula, even extending down to the oropharynx. All her uncles are in good health, and with none of them dead, she can only assume that the change continues down the esophagus. She got it in writing several years ago that, should any be willing to be dissected for scientific purposes, she has a few choices for her study.
Their eye colors are fascinating: while they all reflect light to glow, which is meant to intimidate opponents, she has observed the change serves as behavioral distinction. The lighter the color, the more mellow and passive the personality; the darker or more intense, the more independent and aggressive. A chameleon-like feature, reflecting mood. And, in turn, signifying mental and physical health, as peppier individuals tend to be less plagued by feelings of inadequacy, anger, and low self-esteem. W.H. had his eye color eventually become the joyful chartreuse yellow she’s known since birth, and her father’s returned to their fiery red sometime after the war. This is the one true variation that doesn’t need attire or fanciful hair styles and dyes to show that no matter how alike they are by DNA, they are their own separate people.
So when she teleports to Mystacore, and she finds dark blue eyes staring at her from above, she remembers, quite immediately, that sometimes, darker eye colors don’t indicate low self-esteem but rather, an egregious amount of confidence.
Her uncle jumps down from his perch, landing daintily on his feet. He narrows his eyes, leering, “Odessa… it has been ages since you’ve arrived on Mystacore.”
“Hi, Talon,” Odessa says.
He looks at her friends, “You two are faring well, I hope.”
Hydrangea smiles, “Yes, thank you for asking!”
Tristan nods, “You look good, too, Talon.”
“Indeed,” Talon answers. “It would be a shame if I lost my abilities.”
With that, he throws knives out from his sleeve. Tristan dodges the attack by barreling to the side, somersaulting along the ground. Hydrangea calls up plants from underground, knives embedding into the sides. Odessa leaps into the air, reaching behind her to draw out a handheld bar. With a click, it extends to a staff, and another morphs it quickly into a pilum.
Reeling back her arm, she launches it with full ferocity at Talon. He avoids it, jumping to the left and pulling out more knives, but he aims them at Tristan, who runs toward the nearest fountain to pull water out from its containment. Tristan moves his arms upward, pushing out enough water to create a vertical depth, the knives slowing down as they pierce its surface and float inside.
Odessa tugs her spear out from the dirt, cornering her uncle at the right. Hydrangea pulls plants forward, fingers splayed in the air. From her fingertips, electricity strings across her exoskeleton. Tristan rushes to their side, water sloshing around them, encasing Talon in its center, creating a barrier.
Talon sneers, then bursts out laughing. His stance loosens, standing upright, “Your senses haven’t weakened. Good. I’d be vexed if you squandered my generosity to teach you combat.”
Odessa smirks, minimizing her staff and settling it behind her back, “We wouldn’t do that.”
Hydrangea grins, “Tristan and I do practice on our own.”
Tristan shifts the water back toward its source, then rubs the back of his neck, “Which is great, since there was no holding back from that attack.”
“Enemies don’t show mercy,” Talon says. Adjusting his collar, he nods his head, “But tell me, what brings my niece and her companions to Mystacore?”
Odessa speaks, “I wanted to ask you something.”
“Me?” he replies, curious.
“Yes. It’s about your origins. Uncle Wrong-Man said it might be beneficial to come to Mystacore and question my relatives here.”
Talon raises a brow. He looks up at his home, then addresses the trio, “Are you intending to stay for longer than an hour?”
“Most likely.”
“I will invite you to my home, then. Come. Dinner will be prepared soon, and we may discuss the topic during.”
Accepting this, they head in the direction of his home. An impressive, ornate building that’s three stories high; they tread up wide steps, where one can overlook the weigela bushes lined around the vicinity’s front entrance, a fountain spouting water in the garden’s center, surrounded by lilacs and roses. Cool air wafts over their bodies, welcome from the heat outside. Odessa remarks that the decor has only slightly changed, the furniture taking on silver, blue, and white qualities, polished until they gleam.
Going to the stairs, Talon nods at them, “Make yourselves at home. As usual, do not break anything. I will see you at dinner promptly.”
Once he’s gone, Hydrangea chuckles, “He’s still intense.”
“He’s gonna kill us one day,” Tristan sighs.
Odessa pats his shoulder, “Only if we let him.”
He lips thin out, “Not reassuring, Des.”
Climbing the steps, they decide to wait until they are called, and opt to entertain themselves by bothering someone else.
-
Magic radiates within the room, energy felt even behind the door. Odessa carefully pushes it open, seeing a slim figure move around. Putting a finger to her lips, she leads her friends into her cousin’s quarters. His face is stern, staring at the spell hovering over the ground at shoulder height.
Hydrangea sits quietly on a cushion on the floor, and Tristan does the same. Odessa leans against the wall, and they all watch. Eon is her cousin, and their similarities begin and end with their fathers having chosen Etherian women as their partners. He differs from her, and any other potential cousin, by having the capability to do magic. Real, Etherian magic.
Eon takes measured breathing, focusing on the spell. It elongates toward the ceiling and floor, then narrows to a thin line. Reaching for it, he plucks it with his forefinger. It snaps, and a discordant sound follows, uncomfortable and shrill. Hydrangea and Tristan cover their ears, as Odessa winces.
Eon looks at them, brow raised. He grins, “Did you all enjoy the show?”
“We did, until that,” Hydrangea complains, glaring at him. She frowns, lightly slapping her ears, “Aw no, there’s some ringing!”
“It’ll pass in a few moments,” Eon explains. “Besides, you three coming into my room unannounced and unwelcome deserves a bit of retribution.”
“By popping our eardrums?” Tristan asks, deadpan.
“Exactly,” Eon says, one hand on his hip. He turns to Odessa, and smiles. “You’re here sooner than expected.”
“I believe we arrived on time,” she answers, grinning back. She hasn’t seen him for a while, but he has gotten taller since then. He takes after their species' propensity for large heights, but she knows he’s grown a few inches and might continue to grow for the next couple of years as well.
Eon begins putting away his spellbook and notes, arranging them neatly, “What are the three of you doing here? With you on Etheria, you normally visit me later on your returns.”
“I came to ask your father some questions, but then he invited us to dinner.”
“He can be standoffish, but oddly enough, never when it comes to hosting meals.”
Hydrangea sits up, “We got into a sparring session with him right away too.”
Eon joins them on the floor, one knee bent to prop up an arm, “I had mine early this morning. You know him, he’s never done with training.”
Crossing outstretched legs, Tristan reclines against the wall, “Your parents don’t let up, huh?”
“No, but I head to my place at Bright Moon later in the month. I check in biweekly to continue my sparring and magic training, then head back and repeat.”
“That’s a lot of back and forth,” Hydrangea adds, holding a pillow to her chest.
Shrugging, Eon says, “I don’t mind. Keeps me busy.”
Odessa chuckles lightly, taking a seat beside Tristan, “For being super busy, Uncle Wrong-Man said to give you this.” Pulling out the bag, she tosses it to him.
Eon catches it deftly, a quiet ‘yes’ of triumph leaving his lips. His diet is strict when he’s with his parents, for optimal nutrition and betterment. But he has a sweet tooth that rivals Odessa and Entrapta, thus any opportunity to consume sugar is taken. Using a levitation spell, he has it placed atop his desk, and an invisibility spell follows after, keeping it from view.
“Won’t your parents find it? It’s not like you can’t smell cookies,” Odessa states.
“I’ll say it was one of you.”
Hydrangea laughs, “I don’t think they’ll be entirely fooled by that.”
“If not, that’s fine by me too,” Eon says. “I let them think they’re savvier than myself.”
Tristan smirks, “How often has that worked?”
“More than for you,” Eon says, smirking back.
Odessa and Hydrangea whoop at Tristan, who laughs in good humor.
Stretching his arms up and to the side, Eon turns to his cousin, “How did the last journey go?”
“It went as planned. We went to Pilan, and my parents found what they needed for research.”
“And you two?” he asks, addressing the others.
Hydrangea lays on her stomach, drawing circles on the pillow, “Hm… my moms have started taking me to council meetings, which is interesting. We had a gathering with some of the leaders in Plumeria that are helping to manage its growing space. And New Chelicerata has been thriving for years now, since we removed all the machinery in the Fright Zone and expanded it into the Flower Field.”
“Not all the toxins have been removed, I’m assuming.”
“Some of the groundwater had been too polluted, and it leaked into larger bodies of water, but, as a whole, we started seeing real progress six years ago.”
“I’ve been helping the residents there by removing water too far gone,” Tristan adds. “We’ve been separating them into larger containers as instructed, and we’re hoping that newer technology from Entrapta and Hordak will yield positive results in another decade or so.”
“Even if it’s slow, progression is always good.”
Odessa glances to her left, letting her mind drift. Time doesn’t pass by the same when traveling through space. She watches her mother age, while her father stays the same, and that’s the extent of how often she pays attention to the changes happening around her. It’s not from ignorance, but from not giving too much thought to it, even with the years she has spent returning to Etheria to evaluate and aid her people here.
Settling against Tristan, Odessa yawns. He keeps his body still as she falls asleep, finding their chatter relaxing. Dinner will arrive sooner if she’s napping. Even closing her eyes is enough for her body to rest, breathing quietly as she listens to them discuss any topic they happen upon.
Her friends are interrupted mid-conversation, a knock at the door grabbing their attention. Odessa opens an eye. The housekeeper bows her head, addressing Eon, “Your parents are waiting for you in the dining room. Please, follow me.”
-
Odessa knows her uncle, Talon, is a force to be reckoned with in combat, but her aunt, Nyxia, is a woman with severe features and a severer personality. If there was ever given a choice between fighting him or her, they may have to weigh their options a little more carefully.
She is seated next to Eon, with Hydrangea and Tristan placed across from them. Odessa leans toward her cousin, “Did Nyxia poison the food this time?”
Eon shakes his head, “Maybe Tristan’s.”
Tristan bawks, “Hey!”
Waving his hand, Eon smiles, “I’m teasing. It’s more than likely Hydrangea.”
“What?!” she demands, worried.
“You two are making this easy,” Eon grins, shaking his head. “Really, after all this time, you continue to doubt my parents’ hospitality.”
“I haven’t seen your mom in a while, okay? I wouldn’t know if I offended her last time,” Hydrangea breathes out, leaning back in her chair.
Ear twitching, Odessa catches the sound of footfalls, her aunt coming into view from the corridor, chin-length, violet hair framing lithe, dark features, gown flowing behind her. Definitely not a person to be out of line around.
But that only applies to non-relatives.
Nyxia smiles warmly at her niece, “Odessa! My charming girl, how have you been?”
“Wonderful, Aunt Nyxia, thank you,” Odessa replies, nodding her head in respect.
“Excellent. I heard all of you did well in your impromptu session with my husband earlier,” she says, making her way to the other end of the table. Standing beside her chair, she looks at her son’s other friends, “Talon remarked that you’ve improved considerably.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Hydrangea and Tristan reply at once.
Talon comes from the opposite corridor, walking toward Nyxia. Pulling out the chair for her and sliding it beneath, he moves to the other end and takes his place at the head. The staff bring out their meal: roasted pheasants and potatoes, slathered in its drippings, with baked seasoned vegetables on the side. Wine is served to all of them, as Nyxia and Talon are lax in this department of child-rearing, though the option to have different beverages is always available. Odessa requests her usual fizzy drink, as Hydrangea asks for lemon water. Tristan and Eon have no qualms with the choice displayed in front of them.
“Smells delicious, Miss Nyxia,” Hydrangea compliments.
“Thank you, my dear,” she answers, laying a cloth on her lap. “When I heard you three were in Mystacore, I chose to make this instead.”
Odessa and Eon twiddle each other’s fingers under the table, a silent ‘fuck yeah’ to the change in menu. Nyxia is a phenomenal chef, but she abhors cooking. The usual staff do lovely work, except they are meant to keep things simple, clean, and balanced. Nyxia, despite agreeing with her husband on meal preparation, manages to create rich, satisfying food each time. Normally, when Odessa and her family are visiting.
Relishing this opportunity, Eon cuts into his pheasant, stabbing a portion of potato with it, melting on his tongue. Trying not to pretend-weep. Or actually weep.
“What was your question, Odessa?” Talon asks, swirling the wine in its glass. “It’s not like you to come without your parents.”
Dabbing her mouth, Odessa looks at him, “I wanted to ask you questions about your time serving as a soldier for Prime.”
He doesn’t break the smooth motion of his wrist, not minding that part of his life, “Yes?”
“I was told that older clones might have information regarding our origins. A life before Prime sought out to conquer the universe. My father and W.H. are too young to remember, or were never privy to it. You’re one of the eldest, so I figured to come here before heading to Beast Island.”
Talon sets down his glass, lifting his fork and knife. He takes a bite of his food, chewing quietly. Swallowing, he says, “I will be blunt: it is not possible to know such a thing. Our purpose, our life, was to do Prime’s bidding.”
“There isn’t anything you can think of?”
Talon mulls the question, glancing up at his wife, then back to the plate. He narrows his eyes, and they flicker to an even darker shade of blue for a fraction of a moment. He gives a minute shake of his head, imperceptible to all but his wife.
Odessa waits for him to speak, slipping out her recorder with a strand of hair.
“I… cannot remember a time before Horde Prime. There was only war. Ravaged lands, and screaming,” he leans forward. He meets his niece’s gaze, “You might have to go to Beast Island for your answers, though I do not trust they will know more. Many of us have been alive for decades, but not millennia.”
“Is there a reason for that?” Tristan wonders. “The hivemind was the source of connection. Did you lose memories once it left?”
“No, it doesn’t seem to be that way,” Talon answers, sipping his drink. “It’s more… you have recollections, starting from the present. And it continues backwards until it stops. A wall in your head, which is the moment of when we, for lack of a better word, are ‘born.’ From what I’ve gathered, raising Eon, and observing all of you growing up, an infant that develops naturally can have memories that are faint—both in sensation and imagery, and the mind’s eye develops scenarios of what could’ve happened. Piecing puzzles in your memory banks. Attempting to make sense of your childhood and surroundings, and it even causes you to feel certain emotions into adulthood on a subconscious level. For us, and my brothers, there is no guesswork. There is the instant of emerging from the vitrine, and from there it goes on. Our memories are crystal clear, and gaps do not occur. If we feel emotion, it’s from direct experiences, not preconceived ideas of maybe how we experienced living. The hivemind being removed made us how we are now, but its absence didn’t seem to affect anything else.”
“Fascinating,” Odessa says, forgetting her meal. “So, you remember everything?”
“Yes. It would seem my brothers and I recall memories at greater capacities than most.”
“Would you say you have photographic memory?” Hydrangea asks, leaning forward.
“Our superior intellect allows us to retain knowledge quicker, and we remember things for longer, but a true photographic memory isn’t an aspect we have considered.”
Nyxia cuts into her pheasant, “It’s not unlikely. Your brothers and you have shown an uncanny ability to remember things more greatly than Etherians. It might be prudent to research it further, wouldn’t you say?”
Nodding in agreement, Odessa would not rule it out. She’ll discuss it with her mother for an unbiased opinion later.
Dinner finishes with chiffon cake and fruit, leaving guests and hosts satisfied. Talon and Nyxia wave at the door, as Eon walks them to the portal.
“It was good to see you all,” Hydrangea says, turning to Eon. She clasps his hands, “You should visit more!”
Eon blushes slightly, still not used to open demeanors, “I’ll try to make an effort.”
Tristan pats his shoulder, “You have to get out more. Between you and Odessa, I don’t know who’s more of the hermit.”
“It’s definitely me,” Eon replies. “Odessa’s too needy.”
Punching him in the arm, Odessa gives a side-hug right after. She and her friends step onto the portal, “I’ll drop by again soon! And visit my parents sometime, dumbass.”
He flips her off, smirking.
Hopping through the portal, they arrive in Plumeria, where she bids goodbye to her friends. Then, she heads to Beast Island.
-
“Odessa! My little cupcake, how was your trip to Mystacore?” Entrapta asks. Imp, crawling around on the walls, chirps his greetings with Emily beeping at her return.
“It was very interesting,” Odessa says, pulling out her recorder. “Would you like to listen with me?”
“You bet!” Entrapta shouts, sidling over to sit on her hair. Odessa takes a proffered seat before playing back the conversation at dinner. She listens with rapt attention, the two of them quiet. Afterward, Entrapta grins, “That was fascinating! I had noticed that your relatives tend to be more affluent with recollection than most, but this requires more study.”
“Do you think there is a possibility that they have photographic memory?”
“We won’t know unless we test the hypothesis,” Entrapta turns to her daughter, grinning wide. “You know what that means!”
Odessa grins wide too, saying it with her.
“Time to experiment!”
-
Odessa and Entrapta had to decide what and how to measure. The test is simple on paper, but part of the reason memory tests can be difficult is due to fallibility of nature. Recalling a memory does not equate accuracy. They also had to take into account that Etherian children were more susceptible to false memories, which could affect them as adults, hence, why Talon said that there’s no guesswork for his brothers and himself. And when it came to the ethics, Entrapta reminded Odessa that it’s part of experimentation, much to the latter’s chagrin. Odessa would’ve followed, regardless, but she’s more determined to see things through without obstacles.
A lack of true full-blooded children for Hordak’s species, and Eon and Odessa were not little anymore, that wasn’t necessary to entertain. However, Odessa and Entrapta believed it would be prudent to test the memory of Eon and any other hybrid cousins simultaneously to the Etherian and Horde groups, sans Odessa.
After deliberating, they chose to experiment by gathering Etherians between the ages of 15-50, to cover the age bases of both Etherian teens and adults, hybrid offspring, and Horde descendants. After age 14, correct absolute judgments and relative judgments have better succession rates and are not as affected by false positives. With this in mind, Odessa sends out a mass message asking if anyone would like to be part of a study.
She receives her answers quickly from her uncles, who would be more than delighted to aid her in any quest. She splits them into four groups, Group A, B, C and D. To accommodate for the choice in subjects, they will be separated into three sections, Etherians being the first, hybrids the second, and her uncles will be the third subsect. Over the course of the week, she receives the rest of her subjects at Beast Island.
Tristan and Hydrangea are the first to arrive, looking forward to spending time with her and her family in the meantime. Hydrangea gives Emily and Imp hugs and kisses, cooing over them incessantly. Imp clings to Hydrangea’s neck, completely at ease.
Tristan pats Emily’s surface, smiling at her beeps, “It’s good to see you too.”
She beeps even louder and harder, spinning around in place.
Entrapta grins, “Aw, you made her day!”
“No one else is my favorite robot, are they, Ems?” Tristan asks. She spins again, and the whirring becomes softer, almost shy.
Odessa nudges his ribs, “Great, my sister has a crush on you.”
Tristan rolls his eyes, smiling.
Odessa peers at his face, “Hey, you shaved!”
“Yeah, you were right. It was horrible,” Tristan remarks.
“You look better this way,” Odessa affirms, pinching his cheek, and he lightly whacks her fingers away.
Scorpia comes a moment later, and immediately bolts over to them all. Once the hugs are done, Scorpia and Entrapta discuss things on their own. Entrapta settles into the crook of Hordak’s arm, resting easily over her shoulders. Scorpia gushes over how cute they are. Hordak humphs in disdain, despite the blush on his cheeks.
Another five minutes pass and the portal hums. Catra, Adora, and two of their children come through.
Odessa sighs. Not looking forward to having some of them here. But she smiles, walking to Adora, “Hi! Thanks for coming.”
Adora smiles, giving Odessa a warm hug. She pulls back, holding her at arm’s length, “It’s no problem. We’re glad to help! You’ve gotten taller.”
“You’ve definitely sprouted more than we thought. I remember when you were knee-high,” Catra says. “You were the worst ankle-biter in Etheria.”
Odessa teases, “Still am.”
Laughing, Catra pats her back, walking hand in hand with Adora to their friends.
Her smile falters after that, though she manages to keep it in place. If Catra and Adora weren’t there, she wouldn’t hide her contempt or indifference.
They have four children in total. Quadruplets in fact. All a year younger than her at 15. Two of them, Clawdeen and Marlena, tend to spend their time in Bright Moon, and she has no opinion of them other than they’re not her sort of people. Well, that’s not true. They’re surprisingly elitist and refuse to associate with anyone they find unworthy of their time. They mind their business enough, however, so Odessa doesn’t pay them attention.
Barely coming to five feet tall, Molly is one of the children here today, a skittish, timid thing; the runt of her litter. She inherited Catra’s heterochromia, one eye blue, the other green, and that’s the one interesting thing about her. She stands, unsure, by the portal. Her appearance here is odd, since she tends to be alone. Odessa doesn’t hate her, or even dislike her, but the girl’s meekness doesn’t make her striking enough to have an opinion on either.
Adam, their one son, is another story. His eyes are bright blue, and slightly jarring in the feline face. The opposite of Molly, he is loud, prone to temper tantrums, and his temerity leaves much to be desired. She prefers the company of confident, open people, but he’s, without a doubt, the most obnoxious fucker she’s ever had the misfortune of knowing.
His eyes, the only one to resemble Adora’s, land on hers, and he leaps over, grinning. Placing an arm on her shoulder, leaning, he says, “Yooooo, what’s up, girl?”
Odessa turns to him, narrowing her eyes, “Please don’t take my smile for welcome, you complete ass.”
“Ooh, baby, you need to chill,” Adam says, poking her nose.
“Try that one more time and I’ll bite it off.”
He winks, “That a promise, thottie from space?”
Odessa smiles wider, eyes flashing, “It’s a threat, you parasitic fool.”
Sensing her growing irritation, her friends bound over. Hydrangea waves at Adam, “Hey! We haven’t seen you in a long time. How’ve you been?”
Adam turns to her, “Hey, Dragon Fruit! You know how I be—taking care of all this,” Adam gestures to his thin body, puffing out his chest. “What you been up to lately? Those flower braids are doing everything for your look.”
Hydrangea urges him to walk far, far, far, far away from Odessa’s area.
Rubbing her temples, Odessa takes a breath.
Tristan rubs her back, “Remember, Des: think of the experiment.”
Odessa nods at him. Science. Her one true refuge. “I know. It’s a little… irritating that he’s here. But I’m sure that empty-headed dolt will yield some results for me.”
Tristan smiles at her, ensuring she doesn’t lose her cool. Once he’s sure she won’t murder, he looks at Molly, “Hi! I didn’t think I’d see you here.”
Molly brushes hair away, looking briefly at the ground before addressing him. “Yeah… Um, my moms thought it would be cool to take one or two of us. To help Odessa out.”
Odessa shakes her head, “So glad about that.”
“Um… I’m sorry about Adam...” Molly starts.
“It’s fine,” Odessa replies, focusing back on her clipboard, walking away.
Sighing, Molly bites her lower lip, feeling uneasy.
Noticing that, Tristan smiles at Molly, “Come on. We can wait over here.”
“Sorry you’re stuck with me,” she mumbles.
“I’m not stuck with you,” Tristan answers. He leads her to an unoccupied stone ledge, the occasional pooka darting across it. “Though, I didn’t think this was your sort of thing.”
“It isn’t. I don’t really want to be here,” Molly answers, pulling her legs to her chest.
“It might be fun, right?” Tristan asks.
Shrugging, Molly places her chin onto her hands.
They both watch the portal light up, a plethora of clones marching through. It has to pause for a brief moment, then it continues to spew individuals out of it. Tristan glances down at Molly, knowing there’s no point in attempting to converse. The silence doesn’t bother him, and she seems to take more comfort out of not having to make dreadful small talk. He hates it too, so this works.
Eon and his parents eventually pass through. Waving at him, Tristan reclines in his seat, “You and your folks actually came. I didn’t think any of you left the house.”
Standing with his arms behind his back, at ease, Eon smirks, “You’re all lucky we don’t come out more often.”
Tristan sticks his tongue out at him. He gestures to his left, “You remember Molly?”
Eon looks down at her, “Yes, we have met before. Nice to see you again.”
Molly flushes, turning away, “Nice to see you too…”
He glances at Tristan, who gives a one-shoulder shrug.
She keeps quiet, looking at the people around her. Hordak and his brothers all stand out as one unit, and other cousins similar to Eon slowly arrive. Not as large in number, with more variation than Hordak’s species but less than natives. She watches Etherians coming forth as well, and doesn’t wave or acknowledge them. Hoping to blend with the background, she scoots further away, sinking behind Tristan.
Tristan notes her discomfort and doesn’t move.
Eon, however, waves at some relatives, who rush over to greet him.
Molly frowns, accepting her fate. She takes to watching Eon speak with his family, his tall, sleek body impressive even among those similar to him in build. His hair, cropped shorter at the sides, falls in front of his forehead, a darker hue than his cousin Odessa. His eyes are a lovely shade, bordering on magenta with a stronger red tint, the sclera an equally pretty color, lighter than his irises. His usual confident smirk remains on his face throughout, bright, sharp teeth against the usual backdrop of pale face with the sides of his cheekbones and neck becoming a shock of dark blue or purple. It seems to be a common male trait, since Odessa’s face is white all around, but she isn’t sure. She doesn’t see the other cousins close enough to tell.
She spies Odessa wandering with her device, either barking orders or quietly checking off things. Long, lilac hair floats behind her when not in use, her frame just as slim and tight as the others, and inheriting a tall height seems to be the norm for them. Despite her gorgeous features, Molly finds it interesting, also intimidating, how much redder Odessa’s eyes and sclera are compared to Eon’s.
Hydrangea is speaking with Odessa now, platinum blonde hair brushing against her body, falling in the softest of waves to the small of her back. Her lithe frame befits the gentler, kinder nature she has, which isn’t surprising considering who her parents are. But there’s that powerful change in limb, her arms spiking at the shoulder in dark red, the skin of her arms mottled with it, until it reaches her elbows, where it spikes again, hardens, forming another patch of chitinous skin that reaches her fingertips, claws neatly filed down. And then there’s the tail, shorter, but as potent as Scorpia’s. Deadly and graceful.
She looks up at Tristan, beautiful, brown eyes staring off to the distance. Long lashes frame them, delicate yet full. His hands rest lightly over his knees, fingernails painted black. Hair reaching the end of his neck, lightly touching muscular shoulders, it enriches brown skin with its color, more than a mere dark purple. It’s the color of wine in the dark, of a gorgeous night as the last remnants of light dash away. The blue of his clothes highlight everything further, lavish gold trim clashing against the bright colors, revealing every taut muscle without meaning to, and she traces the curve of his spine with her eyes.
She feels a gaze on her, and finds her brother staring at her from a distance. Molly, snapping from her reverie, darts her sight to the ground. Unaware of Tristan looking in her direction.
Once enough participants have arrived, Odessa claps her hands, “Alright, people! Listen up: I have divided you all into the following groups. Step up this way, where I will assign you all with a place to go to.”
Adam bounds up out of nowhere, whispering, “Can whatever group I’m in be called Team Sexy?”
Odessa ignores him, “Let’s begin, shall we?”
-
HYDRANGEA
Age: 15
Species: Etherian
“Alright,” Odessa says. “I’m going to show you 10 pictures. You will have seven seconds to absorb all the details for them, and afterward, I will ask you one simple question about what you can remember.”
“You got it!” Hydrangea sits in her chair, comfortable. “Sounds easy enough.”
Odessa smiles, “Here’s your first one.”
She holds up a simple image of table mats atop a wooden surface, decorated with plates of breakfast foods, drinks, and fresh fruits.
“Okay, ready for the question?”
“Yep!”
“What fruits topped the waffles?”
“Oh, um… berries and apples?”
Writing it down, Odessa proceeds with the next image.
TRISTAN
Age: 17
Species: Etherian
“Hello!” Entrapta says, bringing him in. “I’m going to show you 10 pictures for less than 10 seconds each, and you’ll let me know what you remember.”
“Sure thing,” Tristan replies, sitting upright.
She pulls out an image of miscellaneous items and personal effects on a desk, three photographs in the middle, a drawing in one of the corners, a grey notebook, and a folder with intricate patterns.
“Okay, ready for the question?”
“Yes.”
“Were there tickets on the table?”
Tristan mulls his answers for a moment, “No.”
MOLLY
Age: 15
Species: Etherian
Odessa approaches the girl, relieved that she doesn’t have to deal with the handful that was her brother. She looks at Molly, “I’m going to hold up 10 pictures for you, and you will have seven seconds to absorb the image. Afterward, I will ask you questions.”
“Alright,” Molly nods, nails clicking against each other.
The image is of a mountain peak, glinting from the light; the moon shines above it, and a trip of hoofed animals moving along its surface.
“What was the total number of baby goats in the image?”
Molly thinks over the total, and says, “Five.”
ADAM
Age: 15
Species: Etherian
Entrapta comes into the room, “Hello! I’m going to be showing you some pictures—”
Adam interrupts her, “Is this going to take long?”
“Nope! It takes less than five minutes for this segment to be complet—”
“Do we get paid to do this?”
“...No.”
Scratching his nose, Adam leans back in his chair, “Got it, got it. Lay it on me, girl!”
Entrapta smiles, “Great! So, I have 10 pictures and I will show them to you for about seven seconds. I will ask you questions after each one about what you saw.”
“Question real quick: is this one of those tests that explain anything about your psychosis?”
“What do you mean?”
“Is it gonna tell me anything, like, am I gonna learn about who is the most likely to be a murderer or nymphomaniac?”
Raising a brow at him, Entrapta says, “I can’t divulge too much about the study to participants. But this is not that kind of test.”
“Aw… okay,” Adam shifts back further in his seat, lifting the front legs from the ground. “Well, that’s less fun.”
Entrapta proceeds to bring out a picture: a series of potted plants are lined on shelves, different heights and colors smashed closely together in the frame, their pots not resembling the others save for a few.
“What was the centre motif for the pots?”
Adam scratches his chin, “Frog, I think.”
EON
Age: 18
Species: Etherian and ?
Odessa approaches her cousin, sitting relaxed in the seat. She had gone through the first ten pictures with him already. She glances at him, “Are you ready to continue with the process?”
“Whatever this study is, I’m assuming that you need me to come back again for another trial run.”
“Yes, you will be returning a few times after today to aid in the study, as per your agreement on the written form.”
“Of course.”
“You went through the first half, and you’re going to begin the second half now. This is slightly different,” Odessa explains. Instead of photographs, she holds up a pad, similar in size and weight to her telecommunicator. “I am going to hold up one image: a grid of white and black squares. Then, I will show you a second image, of the same number of squares on the grid; however, you will choose the one square you believe was white in both image one and image two. Image three will have the grids with numbers in the squares instead for you to pick. The amount of time will be the same, seven seconds. There are four levels of difficulty, and you will proceed until we reach the last level.”
Nodding, Eon watches her lift the screen to his eyes. A grid of white and black appears, and he keeps in mind which are white only. The second image appears. Then the third. He makes his decision. He will not know if he is right, as the data is processed within for the researchers alone.
Odessa keeps her face neutral the entire time, intrigued at what this part of the test will yield from everyone else.
TALON
Age: approx. 90 (total) | approx. 52 (mental) | approx. 52 (physiological)
Species: ?
Entrapta smiles, “We do appreciate you helping with the test.”
“It is no trouble,” Talon states. “You and my niece are a select few that do not leave me…”
“Irritated?”
“We’ll use that word.”
Entrapta approaches her brother-in-law, setting herself down on swathes of hair, “Are you ready for the second half of the test?”
“Yes. By all means, little sister, proceed.”
“Excellent! I’m going to show you a grid with black and white squares. Another image will appear after on the device. The number of squares will not change, however, you have to decide what is the one square that remained white. You will pick that in the third image, where the squares will all be numbered.”
“Understood. You may show me the first image.”
W.H.
Age: approx. 40 (total) | approx. 23 (mental) | approx. 27 (physiological)
Species: ?
“This must be exciting for you, isn’t it?” W.H. asks. “You haven’t done a study like this in a while.”
Readying the pad, she nods, “It has been a few years since I’ve conducted anything in this manner.”
“I still remember when you were little, and you insisted on having your first experiment be a methane explosion. You were so cute!”
Odessa smiles, “Speaking of memory, we’re going to begin the second half of the test. You will have the same amount of time to memorize the image on screen. Another will follow right after, and your task is to choose which square on the grid remained white. The image will be your selection on a numbered grid.”
“Sounds fun!”
Holding it up for him, Odessa watches his eyes stay in place, focused. A flicker to indicate change on the screen, then another before he makes his decision.
HORDAK
Age: approx. 56 (total) | approx. 57 (mental) | approx. 35 (physiological)
Species: ?
Entrapta can’t help but smile at him, “Thanks for helping, Lab Partner!”
Hordak smiles back, rising from the chair, “Of course. The experiment seems to be going well.”
“It’s been so fascinating!” Entrapta lifts herself up in the air, at his height. “Everyone has been super helpful, even when they’re rambling about their own assumptions!”
“Who was rambling?”
“One of Catra’s kids—the boy. He was very interesting when he talked, but I had to stay focused! We’re collecting so much data… Odessa is going to be ecstatic!”
Happy to see her in good spirits, Hordak leans forward, kissing her cheek, “When you’re done, I will be waiting for you in our room.”
Entrapta waggles her eyebrows at him, wrapping her arms around his neck, “Ooh! Is this about that new maneuver you wanted to show me?”
“We’ll see if your memory serves you just as well tonight,” Hordak smirks.
Squealing, Entrapta kicks her legs behind her, pecking his mouth with her own. “Can’t wait!”
-
The results, overall, took two months to compile through the data machine and to check back in with the participants. None of the groups had different numbers, pictures, objects, or words. Odessa and Entrapta tested everyone on their eidetic and photographic memory ability. Group A had no distractions, Group B had Etherians with distractions only, Group C was where her cousins had the disturbances, and Group D it was her uncles with diversions.
When it came to eidetic memory, the numbers didn’t vary too much. But the photographic memory yielded noteworthy results. Each group was brought back a month after being tested to see if they could recall things better. A few Etherians showed some promising ability for it, but overall it wasn’t strong. Her cousins showed stronger signs for photographic memory, Eon being one of the best candidates.
But her uncles were nearly at a 97% rate of accuracy. Talon and W.H. showed an adeptness for remembering things weeks later. Hordak was somewhere in the middle. She wonders why.
“Mom,” she says, holding the charts in her hair. “I know that photographic memory is rare, but these numbers are unreal.”
“I know! The majority of your relatives have a knack for it! That’s so fascinating.”
“I have a theory that it might be due to the hivemind, and perhaps the military training they underwent. It would make sense why they have such capability, even two decades later,” Odessa says. She pulls another chart toward them, tapping her forefinger in quick successions behind it. “It may or may not be that, since we’re not certain of Dad’s origins, but it would explain aspects of it.”
Entrapta’s hair moves her behind her daughter, peering over her shoulder, “It may. I saw that Wrong Hordak was remarkable with photographic memory, and Talon as well.”
“I believe it’s possible that it might be due to neither having depressive episodes. It may have been a group study, but I saw that clones similar to Dad in terms of mental health had a tendency toward memory loss or confusion. It’s not as often or strong as Etherians, or a couple of my cousins, but it’s there. Brains are brains after all.”
“It is exceptional to write this in our records. I wish we had more examples to go by,” Entrapta says. She smiles, “I think it says quite a lot when you compare it to Etherians and your cousins, though.”
“I do find this riveting. Even if it’s Dad cloned thousands of times, there’s something in their brains, their minds, that can provide clues to them as a whole. It’d be prudent to conduct more research, but I’d like to begin as soon as possible, and I can add notes as I go along.”
Entrapta pats her daughter’s head, “And now that you have this information, what do you intend to do with it?”
Odessa looks up at her mother, then back at the data. “I’m going to have Tris and Gea come with me on a little field trip.”
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Noo not (toxic?)Tatsuhime shippers sayin that it made more sense than IH, bashing it. On early manga? Sure but like overall IH>TH? I dont want them to be IRs in disguise. At this point its like big part of the Fandom hate the Idea of Ichigo developing a special bond with Hime. Its like u ship it or u completely despise said ship. People arent allowed to like canon, u have to despise canon and embrace fanon cuz Kubo trashed his own story. This Fandom will forever have (wrong)bias huh? Idc anymore
What makes me sad is that they really are out there trying to convince everyone that their interpretation is the true one, and that if u liked the endgame pairings u didnt pay attention to the story. Bruh I literally started and finished the manga this year before the 20th ani project(never watched the anime tbh) and I was like ???? Sure final arc kinda trash tbh but the epilogue was good? Such an antagonistic elite, they really glorify their own interpretation of what happened (2/4)
U know, cuz they are true fans. Like, a few moths ago I didnt even knew the name of the pairings, didnt know of any essays and rants, and mid manga I was like "Bruh, Ichigo has something for Hime" and even if the final arc was rushed af I was like: these?? kids?? are literally more than friends less than lovers?? it wasnt forced?? when people in the comments said endparings succed I was totally ready for IR and IS in that epilogue lmao. Really hate it here haha.(3/4)
Srry for the innecesary asks lol, I just wanted to rant a little. Love ur blog, Literally found it like 2 weeks ago. And the fact that u (and many others) can really apreciate the character growth w/out twisting everything. Literally Bless U. I really wish this fandom wasnt such a Hivemind (At least), like, ok, If u dont like IH and like any other ship cuz their dynamic is more appealing 2 u, cool, but dont put ur opinions as canon/better than canon and let people enjoy what they want.(4/4)
Aww anon thank you for your kind words ! I’m happy my blog can be a little help to you in this mess of a fandom.
I know what you’re going through anon I used to get SO angry at ichiruki shippers and people saying ichihime didn’t make sense. I get occasionally angry now and again but I mostly made my peace with it because I understood something.
Those people do not care at all to be wrong. You can argue with them until you lose your voice, you can point at them the multiple evidence there is for ichihime in the manga and they will not care.
They do not care about what the manga has to say to them. They do not care about properly reading it. They do not care about understanding what was happening relationship wise in Bleach.
The only thing they care about is their own biased version of Bleach. They like the fandom, they like the obscure nonsensical theories that affirms Bleach is actually a shojo for Ichigo and Rukia, they like the merch with ichigo and rukia standing next to each other, they like the IR comics with orihime getting humiliated being rejected by ichigo as a kind of foreplay for ichiruki happening.
They could care less if Kubo said he never ever envisionned ichiruki happening because his end for bleach was always for ichigo’s son and rukia’s daughter meeting.
They could care less about kubo explicitely saying “ This is not a romantic relationship” about ichiruki more than 10 years ago.
They could care less about the hundreds of pages solely dedicated to the developement of ichihime.
They will make you argue in vain, they will pretend they care about the source material by twisting it thoroughly in order for their crackship to happen.
But they do NOT care about what is actually in the manga.
Once you understand that. Once you get that their fanon version of Bleach matters more to them that what is actually happening in bleach you kinda lose the will to fight them because really what’s the point ?
#ICHIRUKI DISCOURSE#I was as angry and frustrated as you were for so long#I know just how annoying it can be#but it's like arguing about evolution with a creationist#they do not care about your arguments#they do not care about facts or logic#they do not care that you are right#they just care about the fantasy within their heads#Anonymous
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Having just finished Tevinter Nights, I have un fucktonne of questions and theories.
But, below are a few of the subjects/problems that I can’t stop thinking about. I’m curious how other people interpret them, or if I’ve missed some critical details, because it seems like there’s some retconning going on.
so, spoiler warnings apply, since i’m about to discuss the Big Doings below the cut.
The most immediately relevant items come from the final story, right? BUT, because of the nature of the characters, I sort of assumed that much of “The Dread Wolf Take You” is a study in unreliable narrators. Can any of the tales be believed after Charter exposes the Bard? Do we move forward assuming the puzzle pieces we’re trying to fit together are the correct ones, or tread carefully on the word of a known liar?
Nothing about the Assassin’s Tale fits the facts we know:
Meredith’s corpse didn’t actually stay in the middle of the square in uptown Kirkwall. Her remains were taken away to The Black Emporium. (iirc, Varric mentions this in one of the recent comics)
Pieces of her sword (Certainty) were re-forged for Samson to use in service of Corypheus, a sword which eventually passes to the Inquisition.
A shard of the idol continues to exist outside of Meredith’s remains, or her re-forged blade. Depending on worldstates, the shard is either a weapon rune--forged by Sandal and given to Hawke--or it was given to Varric (who then gave it to Bianca to study, I think).
In the comics, and in a few of the short stories, the fiasco of Fen’Harel’s agent losing the red lyrium “item” is cleverly handled from a lore-continuity perspective. It’s only ever referred to as a “weapon,” which could mean a lot of things, and allows for greater freedom in describing it in later media. Until the Assassin’s Tale, I firmly believed they were talking about Certainty. Now we’re supposed to believe it’s been the magically re-formed Primeval Idol this whole time, freshly revealed (by the equally untrustworthy Mortalitasi) as a go-go-Gadget ritual blade.
So, are the Tales a cheeky narrative lie, or is it all lore retcon?
If it’s a retcon...
-What ritual could the blade have originally served?
-Might it actually be a key, as lots of people have theorized?
-Is there really a potion that can melt lyrium?
-Does Solas actually have the idol now, or was his entire story a lie to cover the truth that he still hasn’t found it?
Also, uh. . .Can Solas just. . .kill people while they sleep/dream, even dwarves? I mean, he has demonstrated the ability to create a “dreamlike” state for a dwarf Inquisitor. But, this power seems OP, even for him, and narrative reach. Possibly it’s further evidence that nothing in “The Dread Wolf Take You” can be trusted.
1. If the plans for the Fade are already underway, what does this mean for people like Evangeline, Anders, Grandin, and Sigrid, who’re possessed by spirits/demons? It’s possible they’ll be forcibly separated. Those (like Evangeline) who’re only alive because of their spirit, will likely die. Without Justice, Anders might finally succumb to the taint.
There are probably thousands of people across Rivain and Seheron, and among the Avvar and the Dalish, who’re contentedly hosting spirits. Would these spirits allow their mortal hosts to be harmed by Solas? Or could there be resistance to his plan from the Fade side of things?
Lots of the stories in Tevinter Nights include the theme of outliers breaking ranks from within a seemingly monolithic society: the Ben Hassrath don’t support the Antaam in their campaign, the Venatori and their supporters operate in defiance of Tevinter, the Crows had one of their Talons disrupt a centuries-old pact.
Going forward in the next game, we might see a spirit faction that, for any number of reasons, acts against The Dread Wolf’s plan to sunder the Veil.
2. Why does everyone in this book describe the red lyrium idol as having only two figures, when every depiction of it that we’ve seen clearly shows three? The crowned figure is (if Solas is to be believed) comforting one person, but no mention of the other poor soul, an even more skeletal figure who seems to be missing their left forearm, and is stuck on the other side of the large ring. No love for that dingus, I guess. Very curious.
And no mention of the serpentine shape that surrounds all three of them.
3. The sea is going to be a big part of the next stage of this story.
-Mythal’s origin has her emerging from the sea.
-In “Luck in the Gardens, the 8 Venatori who were tasked with keeping the “formless” monster in its sealed prison each wore a clay amulet depicting a thin four-winged dragon rising above a sea.
-“The Horror of Hormak” describes the viscous gray transformation fluid (and the monsters it creates) as stinking of brine.
-The Mortalitasi’s Tale includes a reference to The Dread Wolf screaming about the Sea of Dreams.
-The Executors appear to be stepping into the action, finally. They are known as ‘those across the sea.’
-Among the murals discovered during Trespasser, there are some that include imagery of flowing water: The Death of a Titan, and Lifting the Vallaslin
-Before ascending to godhood, Ghilain’nain killed all of her creations. . .except the giant monsters in the deepest waters. Lore says “Pride stopped her hand,” which could mean that she spared them because she was too proud of how perfectly-made they were. Or, that an aspect of Pride (as a demon or spirit), convinced her to let them live.
4. I’ve always thought that the painted murals of Trespasser and those completed at Skyhold are actually of a different sort, in a very specific way. Much of the ornamentation, symbology, and iconography that’s used in the various frescoes in Trespasser. . .isn’t found in Skyhold’s frescoes.
My feeling, based on these differences in style, and the uneven quality of the paintings in the Vir’Dirthara, is that the murals in Trespasser have been painted-over.
-Thanks to Gatsi, we know that the mosaics we worked so hard to complete for the Inquisition were all re-carved by several hands over the ages, making it difficult to get an accurate interpretation from them.
-During “The Horror of Hormak,” Ramesh and Lesha encounter mosaics depicting elven kings and queens, and their subjects. But the mosaics shift and change the longer they stare at them. The scenes transform from a glittering parade of nobility offering succor to their subjects. . .to a death-march of tyrants forcing magical torments on their slaves.
-In “Genitivi Dies in the End,” our industrious well-traveled Brother is humbled when he discovers an elven tome that depicts the continent of Thedas in superior and, crushingly, more correct detail to anything he’s ever seen. Which means that either the continent has changed dramatically, or all the maps that exist in modernity are based upon a flawed (altered) source.
There’s an established trope of people from all parts of Thedas altering relics in order to change history’s interpretation of them. So, why would the frescoes/murals be any different? I believe that either Solas, or someone loyal to Solas, altered the murals in order to obscure the truth behind them.
If we believe Philliam, a Bard! (though, again, an unreliable narrator), the Qunari Rasaan disbelieves all of the names attributed to Solas, either by his enemies or himself. As Philliam posits, to know Solas’ true name would be know the best and worst of him, his flaws and weaknesses, and what he’d “failed to be.”
Essentially, I think we’re being misled at every turn. And this leads me to. . .
5. None of the stories in Tevinter Nights expands on the role of dwarves in past and future conflicts. We get lots of new and juicy stuff on Tevinter, Nevarra, mages, elves, the Crows, the Lords of Fortune, even the Qunari. Noticeably and glaringly absent is any mention of dwarves, titans, and how they fit into the unfolding lore.
One of the largest and most influential groups of dwarves in all of Thedas (The Ambassadoria) lives right in the heart of Minrathous. Above ground. Vulnerable to the invading Qunari and Fen’Harel’s agents.
Dwarves are as tellingly absent in this set of stories as dragons were in all the Evanuris revelations.
The one place where those two things intersect. . .is out in the Hissing Wastes, near the Sunstop mountains (which has always sounded to me like the same naming convention as Skyhold).
Out there, we come across a dwarven thaig, the only thaig to have been built above ground, that pre-dates the first Blight. It’s called Kal Repartha, which means ‘a place where we may meet in peace.’ Paragon Fairel and his sons appear to have built the thaig as a way to escape some huge conflict in the Deep Roads.
Statues of Mythal’s dragon form are arranged in places of honor outside Fairel’s tomb. As if in protection.
Fairel was a rune-smith, one of the greatest who ever lived. Mythal might have worked with Fairel toward some common goal, relying on his skills to make devastating weapons, runic keys for hidden places, or repositories of knowledge best kept secret. She might have protected Fairel as a respected friend and ally.
Reaching a little deeper, Mythal may have helped separate the ancient dwarves from the hivemind control of the titans, freeing them to create their own vibrant society, far from the “witless, soulless” existence they lived as drone-like workers.
(As an interesting aside, Fairel wrote about dragons, proving that dragons, dwarves, and the Evanuris existed at the same time)
It just seems like the root of this unfolding elven lore is the Titans themselves, the life they created in the dwarves and the tangible world, the innate power of their blood, and the knowledge that was stolen from them. Why don’t dwarves feature more heavily in the anthology?
That’s it. That’s my tinfoil haberdashery at the moment. Thoughts? Corrections?
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Finale / Misc Boxbot and Voxman family Headcanons
First, some assorted ones based off Thank You for Watching the Show:
-Robbie and Sara are totally Boxman's grandkids, and he and PV spoil the shit out of them whenever they visit, but no single one of the gen 1 Boxbots is their parent -- all six contributed to their design, so the gen 2 bots consider them all combination moms/dads and aunts/uncles. Though, Robbie tends to stick closest to Jethro and Raymond (especially Ray, he really looks up to him!), and Sara favors Ernesto and Shannon.
-The two of them really only fight as product tests, or for fun/combat training alongside the plaza crew -- Ernesto couldn't care less about the plaza's existence now that Boxman's gone. They're even friends with the new KO's Bodega employees during their off-hours! Though, whenever their grandpas visit, the two will go right into Serious Mode and try to wreck the place for real, to try and impress them.
-Darrell was the only robot that actually moved out after the finale, the rest all still live at Boxmore, even if they no longer work there. With his business skills, he's already the most successful evil farmer (also, like, the only evil farmer, but whatever) in the Neutral Zone, and his family visits him every other weekend.
-He did get upgraded to a robo-young adult, so he could live on his own, but it's not too noticeable. The only real differences are that he’s just a few inches taller, and now draws with colored pencils as well as crayons.
-He also took in Raymond's pet chickens.
-The bots still frequent the plaza as customers rather than just attackers now, and sometimes hang out with Enid, Rad, the backup Bodega crew, Dendy, and on occasion KO. Raymond designs fashions for Drupe in between his band's practice sessions, and if Mr Logic gets really busy Shannon sends some of her audience members to help him out. And, of course, Mikayla's even got a drink named after her at the cat cafe, which she stops in to order whenever she misses her feline friends (especially Teacup)!
-All those portraits, the Jethro mug, and the kitten model Mikayla that Boxman has in his house were Shucksgiving presents, as was Peej's book. PV knocked on the door right after the kids left from celebrating with him, figuring it would be as good a time as any to finally give him that cake.
-Jethro's actually taken up gardening, and grows flowers around the factory, though they tend to die pretty fast in the windowless hallways. He once tried to use some of Venomous' leftover gear in the labs in order to engineer them to need less sunlight, and the results were...tentacle-y.
-Boxman and Mr Logic are best friends again. ;v; Even if they don't often agree on things, and definitely don't work together anymore, Boxy regularly shows up at Logic's barbershop to get his hair cut and chat, and keeps him in the loop on everything that goes on with the rest of his family.
-When PV and Fink attacked the plaza in their bio-mech suits after returning to Earth, it wasn't actually the bodega employees who defeated them, but Carol, who pretty much just took one look out the window at the fight, said "Oh HECK no," and MESSED HIM UP. Fink stayed at Boxmore while he recovered in the hospital!
And now, some older, slightly weirder heacanons that I never really bothered to post:
-Doctor Weakpoint and Lord Boxman are mother and son. As in, yes, this person right here:
is the kinda-joke villain who kept sending robots to destroy POINT, even after some of its original members left. I also really like @the-golden-ghost's theory about Boxy being an ex-minion, so I think a lot of the other villains' disdain for him comes not just from him being a joke villain, but also a former HENCHMAN to a joke villain. Plus, she was probably very busy coming up with plans to destroy POINT every single day (and rebuilding Steamborg after he got trashed), hence Boxy taking himself go-karting for each of his birthdays, and eventually leaving to become a more serious villain on his own.
-He still calls her sometimes, and leaves lots of voicemail about how things are going at Boxmore, but she never answers or calls him back. ;-; She does send the kids birthday cards and candy, though, and they love their grandma a lot even if they've never been able to meet her.
-Fink did go to KO's school, like in the episode we were supposed to get. But she was in class 6-11B, rather than 6-11A like KO and Dendy, and they just never ran into her.
-Kinda dark one, if he gets hungry enough, Darrell has no problem with trying to hunt down and eat other robots, particularly his own clones (since it's not like there's ever a shortage of him around, plus their brains are extra tasty). Don't let him skip a meal, ever, and if you do...keep an eye on the vents.
-The entrance to Shadowy Figure's lair in Professor Venomous' house was literally just kept hidden under a rug. He also sometimes accidentally left glorbs or his scarf around the house, since sometimes he would lose control and start to shift back to PV unexpectedly. The only reason PV never noticed is because he's just THAT MUCH of a dumbass sometimes.
-I see that the fandom's caught on to the idea of Laserblast having a crush on Boxman long before even becoming a villain, and I LOVE it, but I raise you this: Boxman had a huge crush on Laserblast as well when he was first starting out with villainy. Attacking POINT with that junkfish cake may or may not have been one of his many excuses to see Laser again, and he even got some inspiration to work on laser weapons for his own creations from him.
-Boxman already knew who PV was LONG before the man finally decided to tell him about his backstory, because of this.
-Alternatively, the reason Boxy became a supervillain and tried to attack POINT in the first place? Because Laserblast snubbed him for a date, solely due to the whole "heroes shouldn't date villains" thing.
-Mikayla’s head literally was prototyped using one of Boxman’s old guitars. He doesn’t know how to play, like his sons, he just owned it to look cool.
-There was a short period of time, like three-four months, between Boxmore's completion and Lakewood Plaza Turbo's construction, in which Lad Boxman and Mr Logic actually did attack POINT and do petty villainy, in addition to their new manufacturing jobs. Logic was the brains, coming up with lots of schemes and handling all the logistics, and Boxman was the brawn, putting together new robots to fit their needs and carrying out the actual operations. Needless to say, NONE of their efforts were successful, or even memorable, as they were pretty easily outclassed by other, more established villains.
-Jethro's arms and legs have been there from the beginning, and were supposed to be for an upgrade that Boxman never actually implemented. He just didn't give enough of a shit to ever remove them from production.
-Leggy Jethro is his real mind, and is what runs underneath the more basic programming in the rest of his hivemind. He just never had the ability to actually come out and express himself, without the extra glorbs' energy. The other Jethros know they're him deep down but aren't able to fully understand why they feel...different. Not themselves. Hence, why they keep trying to assure themselves and others that they ARE Jethro...
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all the things that could’ve been
For context, there’s a theory roaming around that the hivemind could travel through time and change events before they happened. here’s my idea of how that could have went. Mentions of kissing, so if you aren’t comfortable with that, don’t read or skip that part. Also mention of a panic attack. That’s the most graphic it’ll get.
I recommend listing to “if i’m being honest” by dodie for the first half of the story and “shrike” by hozier for the second half of this for the full experience.
______
It had been about four years or so since Paul had taken that new job Mr. Davidson had offered. Well, it would have been four years. But Paul remembers those years so vividly, it came as a surprise when he woke up one morning and everything was different.
The year prior had been the worse one he had ever experienced. One mental breakdown over job layoffs, a car crash, and his mother’s funeral led to a mental hospital and caffeine addiction. He didn’t want to sleep (the nightmares were to real), so he drank to stay awake. He’d stay awake, and he’d feel more worn out, so he’d drink more to stay up. The caffeine crash happened, and he needed more to stay away from dreams- the cycle kept going until he collapsed on the subway. Next thing he knew, he had an IV in his arm recovering from extreme sleep deprivation. Of course, once he was out of the ER, his father drove him to the mental unit. He didn’t want to go, but Paul understood why- he needed help. Badly. So, if the next two months had to be spent in a bland white-walled prison, so be it. It wasn’t as bad as he’d thought, most of the people he met were so sweet and gentle. The only thing that really scared him was the amount of minors in the ward. Those poor children.
Once he’d been released, he started to take better care of himself. Got a therapist, moved to a different part of Hatchetfeild, looked for a new job. His old math tutor, Mr. Davidson, offered him a job to help Paul get back on his feet. All he asked for in return was a monthly meeting to check up on his mental health. Seemingly fair enough, so Paul accepted.
Paul tried his best to deal with other parts of his life. He’d even tried dating again- something he hadn’t done since high school prom. He’d always felt horrible about himself, about his face, his hair, his body, just a whole mess really. But he needed to get out there sooner or later, right? He started with a girl named Mary (sweet lady, just a bit too narcissistic), but by the god-knows-what-number date, he’d just given up altogether. He liked most of the women, he even flirted with some! But he just couldn’t get over the fact that a month ago he was in a mental hospital. It shouldn’t define him, but it just seemed to loom over everything he did. The only good thing about that place besides the kids were the routines. So, he spoke to his therapist about it, and she said that having a constant thing in life would be extremely helpful. While he was still addicted to caffeine, he felt that he could try and ease his way off it. So, coffee shop it was.
He had started off with Starbucks.First, it was an espresso. Next, a simple iced coffee. Then he moved to Iced coffee with creamer. Than to hot coffee. Than a simple black coffee. Soon, he would be off coffee and down to the weird cappuccino things.
He was driving to Starbucks to get his morning coffee when he noticed a sign. Beanie’s. Huh, He’d never heard or seen the place before- must’ve been new. He pulled into their lot, parked, and walked in. He was hit with the smell of muffins and coffee beans. Only, it smelled slightly worse than Starbucks. But honestly, who was he to judge? He walked up to the counter, ready to order. A woman peered from outside a room, and yelled.
“EMMA! Costumer!”
Paul felt bad. God, if this ‘Emma’ girl was going to get yelled at, maybe he’d go back to Starbucks. Of course, that idea was thrown out the window when he saw her.
Paul wasn’t big on beauty. He could appreciate someone’s attractiveness, but he never really seemed to fall for anyone based on that. He had to know them, you know? But when Emma walked out, god he felt his cheeks heat up. She wasn’t supermodel pretty, but she was still breath-taking nonetheless. Sure, her hair was in a messy bun (that wasn’t done to be stylish, if he may have added), bags under her eyes, and looking like she wanted to punch a guy, but she was beautiful.
“Welcome to Beanie’s, what can I get you?” Emma asked. Gosh, her voice. Like velvet. Sad, tired velvet, but velvet.
“Uh, one black coffee, please,”
____________
Paul would be lying if he said that he put up with Beanie’s mediocre coffee for Emma. But what can he say? She was one of the first purely good things to happen to him in a while. Sure, she never recognized him and he always talked super quietly and watched from afar, but it was enough for him. He told his therapist about her, and she said to just ask if she wanted to maybe hang out sometime. Of course, that was insane. He’d have to talk to her about things other than his coffee, and he just wasn’t ready for that. But it had been almost two months, and if Paul didn’t do something now, when would he?
So, that faithful day came. He walked into Beanie’s on morning, and paced to the counter. Look normal, Paul. This doesn’t have to be weird.
“Welcome to Beanie’s, can I help you?”
“One black coffee,” He smiled. God he hoped he didn’t look as awkward as he felt. While she made the coffee, he noticed a small tip jar in the corner. He placed a $5 into it; Emma must’ve had superhuman hearing, because she groaned.
“Okay, okay! I’ve been brewing up your coffee-”
Paul stopped her from singing as soon as the first note hit. She may be attractive, but her singing voice was far from it. “No, no, it’s okay,”
“Oh, thank you! You know, Nora came back from Coldstone Creamery last weekend and took up the whole singing thing. It’s annoying as hell,”
“Sounds like it,” Paul gave a breathy laugh.
“I’ve seen you around before, what’s your name?”
“Paul,” He extended his hand for a shake.
“I’m Emma-” she finishes her sentence while handing Paul his coffee. “-but I’m sure you know that by Nora’s yelling,”
At this point, Paul was 100% positive he had a crush on Emma. Okay, crush sounded childish. He had a thing...a fascination...no, no, it was a crush. And god damn it felt nice. To have something positive in his life after so long.
“Would you want to get lunch with me sometime?” The words slipped out of his mouth before he could think. Fuck, fuck fuck fuck. But to his luck, Emma smiled.
“Yeah, actually, but it has to be dinner- my lunch break is only 30 minutes. What about next Friday, 7?”
A costumer behind Paul started to curse him out- Paul had forgotten other people existed. Oops. “Yeah, that works. See you then,”
“See you then,”
When Paul got home that evening, he was ecstatic. He had a date! Maybe it would even be a good one! But he didn’t want to get his hopes up- she looked excited when he asked, but she could be doing it out of pity. After all, he did stare helplessly at her. And if she knew he was there a lot, than maybe she hoped going out with him would just get rid of him. No, stop it, he told himself. If she didn’t want to go out with him, she would’ve said no. He’d just go on the date and see what happens.
The next morning as he drove to Beanie’s, it occurred to him that he didn’t know where to pick her up. Or how. God, he was stupid. She was probably already on shift, so he decided on asking the moment he got into the shop.
Of course, this had to be the day Emma was off shift. It was Wednesday, so she was off until 2pm. Of course. Paul sighed as he walked into the coffee shop. The last thing he expected was to bump into the one and only while she walked out.
“Sorry, I- oh hey! You’re Paul, right?”
It took a second for Paul to get his footing and voice back, but he smiled awkwardly. “Hey, Emma. Yeah it’s me. I’m actually really glad I ran into you, I have a question,” He and Emma walked over to the ordering counter.
Finger guns. “Knock yourself out,”
Paul chuckled before replying. “Can I get your number? I just want to know where to pick you up Friday,” a barista coughed, and he looked over. “One black coffee,”
“Yeah, of course! Here, lemme just-“ she snatched Paul’s phone right out of his hands, and put in her number. “There you go! I’ll send you a photo you can use for my picture so you know it’s me,”
“Okay. Okay, uh, cool,” He smiled. The barista handed him his coffee, and he put a 10 on the table. “Keep the change,” he looked back at Emma. “Now, I’m going to go to my job,”
“Why don’t you go over to Starbucks, huh? Coffee here’s shit,”
Paul looked around the shop, and smiled. It just reminded him of her. “Because, some things are worth it. Like-“ he took a sip of the cup.”-Damn good coffee. And you,”
She blushed. She fucking blushed. God she was adorable. “Well, thank you,”
_____________
So came Friday night, and Paul was getting anxious. Emma had said to meet him outside of Beanie’s (’I’m working until 5 Friday’, she said), but it had been then thirty minutes and there was no sign of her. It’s not like he was hiding or anything- he was sitting in his car, smack in front of Beanie’s doors, clear as day. Maybe she forgot. Maybe she blew him off. No, Emma was a nice person, she wouldn’t do that. Would she? But, just as Paul was starting to have a freak out, Emma pushed open the front doors and looked around. Thank god. She saw Paul and waved, walking to his car; he rolled down a window.
“I was starting to think you’d ditched me,” He laughed.
“Me, leaving you? Never,” She laughed back and got into the passenger seat. “So, where to, posh boy?”
“Posh boy?”
“I dunno, you just look posh,”
Paul looked at himself; he was just wearing a nice polo and jeans. It’s not like he was wearing a suit or anything. “Oh, well thank you. You’re looking nice yourself,” That was true- she was wearing a nice pair of jeans with a blouse.
“Why thank you,” She imitated a British accent and failed horribly.
“You’re welcome, m’dam,” Paul replied with an equally bad accent. She giggled. “We’re just heading to a Mexican place. You like Mexican, right?” He returned to his normal voice.
“Of course! Who doesn’t?”
“Alright, let’s go then!”
The ride to the restaurant was much more scenic than Paul expected. The highway was way to backed up to even move, so Emma suggested they take a back route. Paul didn’t know the way, so they ended up switching spots. Emma typed in the restaurant's name into the GPS, and off they went. Paul looked out the passenger window to find they were driving next to an apple orchard- god was it pretty. The budding flowers and ripe looking apples that hung from the trees made Paul practically taste the apples in his mouth, The smell of apple cider in the distance made him swoon. If there was one thing that could always remind him of childhood, it was the smell of apple cider- how his grandmother used to pick him up from school in the fall and make him apple pie and apple cider, and feed it to hi until he was stuffed. Those were the days.
“What are you smilin’ so hard about?” Emma asked.
“Nothing really, just it smells amazing,”
“Alright,” He could feel her gaze on his face every now and again for the rest of the ride.
Once they arrived back at the restaurant, Emma pulled into the parking lot, and jumped out of the car. Paul soon followed, and when they both got the doors of the restaurant, Emma smirked and opened the door for Paul. “Ladies first,”
“Very funny,” Paul said sarcastically, but smiled.
The restaurant wasn’t fancy, but it was on of those places that you probably shouldn’t wear a t-shirt to. The lighting was dim enough to eat in but still feel like you were eating at some five-star place. The food smelled amazing as they both walked past the kitchen, following the host to their table. They sat down, and took a good look at their menus before Emma cleared her throat to speak up. “You know, I saw you staring at me the past two months,”
Paul was taken aback. Shit. “What?”
“Yeah, you kept staring at me. You’d stay in Beanie’s and drink your coffee. It’s not hard to tell when someone's eyeballing you, just so you know.” She saw Paul’s face, and laughed. He must’ve looked stupid. “Don’t worry, it’s fine. I mean, I found it creepy at first, but you were always so flustered when you ordered, so I knew it wasn’t like you were stalking me,”
Paul rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t think you’d even notice me,”
“With a face like yours? It’s hard not to!” She gave a breathy laugh before continuing. “But then you asked me out and honestly, I was super exited. You seemed...sweet.”
“Well? Am I what you expected?”
“No,” Paul was about to frown, but then he smiled. “You’re so much more,”
The food was fantastic. Emma had gotten the chicken taquitos, and Paul ordered the beef tacos. Safe to say, it took a while to make, but they passed the time by staking the salt and pepper shakers from the tables around them (Paul noted later that taking them while people were eating wasn’t the best idea, but honestly it was so much fun that he didn’t care). Then their food came, and they laughed because they had so many shakers. Eventually they put them back. While they ate, they talked about family, their jobs, and then their pasts eventually came into the discussion.
“So, what’s your trauma?” Emma asked after a mouthful of taquito.
“Hm?”
“Come on, we’ve all got something. Spill,”
God, was she ready for that so quickly? Was he even ready for that? He’d never told anyone at the office (minus Bill, but Bill was his best friend) about his past, so how was he to tell a woman he doesn’t even know? “Uh, I just went through a rough patch,”
Emma seemed to catch on that he didn’t want to talk about, and didn’t push. “Ah- I get that.” It sounded like she wanted to say something, but she stopped herself. She probably realized it was a bit early for trauma talk. Thank god.
By the time they’d finished eating, the sun was just about done setting. Paul drove her home this time, and the winding back roads and stoplight gave him time to think. He was starting to fall for Emma. He knew his heart was moving too fast, that it was all too much, but he didn’t care. She was everything he’d ever wanted and more. He couldn’t risk loosing her. Paul looked over at her- her head leaning against the glass, eyes closed, but he knew she wasn’t asleep. She really looked like an angel. Paul didn’t believe in God all that much- he’d grown up in church, but he never believed God made time for everyone. Now, he was starting to believe it.
When the GPS told him he’d arrived at Emma’s place, he parked and shook her gently. “Emma, we’re here,”
She groaned. “Okay, okay,” She opened her eyes. “I wasn’t sleeping, but god I wish I was,”
Paul pretended to be offended. “ Am I that boring?”
She gave a small laugh. Paul got out of the car, and opened her door for her. She gave a thank you. “You can come up with me for a bit, if you want.” Was Paul going to say no? Of course not. He followed her up the complex until they reached her floor. She dug the front door’s key from her pocket, and unlocked it. The place was nice for an apartment. A small couch, with a tall lamp in the corner. The kitchen was decent enough, and it looked like it had been recently cleaned. The smell of lavender took over his senses, and he exhaled sharply. “Come ‘ere,” Emma motioned with her hand, to which Paul followed- he hadn’t realized she’d starting walking ahead of him. He followed her into her bedroom. It was a nice light shade of gray with a purple accent wall. Quilts everywhere, her bed looked more like a giant pillow than a mattress with a headboard. A small table that acted as a dresser sat in the corner, along with a small bookshelf. While he was looking around the room, Emma had put on a record because of course she had a record player on her nightstand. He recognized the artist- Hozier. His voice acted as an anchor to the real world when Emma walked up to Paul and kissed him.
The kiss was soft- not to hard, more like she was testing the waters. Her lips tasted like coconut. Must’ve been chap-stick; or who knows, maybe she really just tasted that sweet. He’d been so lost in her, he didn’t notice he was kissing back. He didn’t notice his arms wrapping around her waist, her hands in his short hair. He didn’t notice that she turned them around, and that they were moving backward. It wasn’t until his back hit her bed, with her kissing him more deeply on top of him did he snap out of his trance. He didn’t want this. Well, he did, but not this quick. Not on the first date. He felt like.. he didn’t know why, but it just didn’t feel right.
“Emma?” He whispered, doing his best to pull away from the kiss.
“Yeah?” She asked, her voice breathy. Paul looked away; he felt so fucking stupid. He’s a guy- he’s supposed to want to fuck her on the first date. But he didn’t want to fuck her- not yet. And that seemed like such a degrading term- fucking someone. He wanted to love her, make her feel like she was the only thing in the world that mattered to him. But not yet. Not this early. His thoughts must’ve been planting themselves on his face, because she pulled back. “Paul, what’s wrong?” Her voice sounded like honey, and Paul hated to do this to her.
“I’m...I’m not ready. I do want to, you know..just, not now,” He did his best to explain. She nodded.
“Of course. i don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to. Do you just want to lay here? We can keep going without the sex, if that’s what you want,”
Paul wondered how he managed to find a woman like Emma. “Yeah, that’s fine,”
They curled up together on Emma’s bed, sharing a couple of kisses her and there until they both fell asleep to the distant sounds of traffic and Hozier.
The next morning, Paul woke up to the sunlight hitting his face. He didn’t even want to open his eyes at first- the sun and the warmth wrapped around him made him feel like a cat. A lazy cat that didn’t want to move, even though the day had started long beforehand; even though the cat knew it needed to eat, that it needed to get some fresh air, it wouldn’t move for the world, as it was right where it needed to be- Paul was just like that cat. But, he couldn’t get his way, could he? He opened his eyes, and smiled. He was in Emma’s room. She was tangled up with him; their legs intertwined, her head leaning on his chest, his head leaning on top of hers. She looked at peace.
Paul’s back pocket started to buzz, and Paul gave a quiet groan. God, he couldn’t get one morning of silence, could he? He gently moved one of his hands off of Emma’s back. and slowly reached into his pocket to retrieve his phone. Mr. Davidson, it read. He picked up.
“Hello?” He whispered.
There was chatter behind Mr. Davidson’s voice. Was he at the office? No, it was Saturday- he was probably at Starbucks or something. “Paul, where are you? You missed our monthly meeting,”
Fuck. “What time is it?”
“About 11,”
“I’m so sorry, sir. I, um..I had a date, and-”
Paul could practically see the smile on Mr. Davidson’s face. “No worries, Paul. And you don’t need to call me sir, remember? You know me. I’ll move the meeting until Monday,”
“Than you, Nathan,”
“Paul, I’m glad you’re back on your feet. You deserve it after the year you’ve had,”
“Thanks,” Paul bid a quick goodbye, and ended the call. By the time he’d turned his phone off, Emma was starting to stir.
“Morning,” She muttered. Her hair was a mess, and it was so adorable.
“Good morning,”
This is perfect, she’s perfect, Paul thought. I’m going to marry her.
_______________
It had been three and a half years, and Paul had never been more happy. He and Emma had been in a relationship since the first date. Emma had moved into Paul’s larger apartment. They got a cat together, and then things settled down. Paul had gotten to know everyone at the office to be one first name basis with everyone. He, Ted, and Bill went out of guys night every month. Emma kept up her job at Beanie’s while she got through community college. She given Paul her pot farm proposal, and Paul laughed. When he found out she wasn’t kidding, he helped her get a medical marijuana selling license. They worked on logos together, and honestly Paul did his best to support Emma no matter what.
Not that their relationship was perfect. When Paul’s department faced possible layoffs, it sent him into a frenzy. He couldn’t be unemployed again, living like that was hell. When Mr. Davidson called Paul into his office, Paul snapped. He started having a horrible panic attack, and the office ended up calling for an ambulance in fear of his safety. Emma, of course, was Paul’s emergency contact (along with his father), and they both ended up at the office in under a half an hour. They both talked while the first respondents calmed Paul down- Emma and his father weren’t allowed near him while he was still on edge. To this day, Paul regrets that was the way Emma met his dad. After that whole ordeal, Emma made him talk about his past. She said she needed to know, because if she needed to help on moments notice, it was important to know those things. So, Paul told her about how when they’d gone on their first date, he’d been out of a mental hospital for two months. How he’d had a mental breakdown when he lost his first job, and even thought about suicide at one point. He explained that’s why he freaked out when Mr. Davidson called him into his office. Emma understood completely- she told him about her sister’s death, and how her parents never really talked to her that much after the death, because in their grief-stricken state, they blamed her for her sister’s death. That night, both of them cried, holding one another until they wore themselves out to sleep.
But through all their ups and downs, they never lost sight of what they loved about each other. And now that three and a half years had past, Paul knew. He wanted to marry Emma Perkins. He wanted to share her last name, or for her to have his. He wanted to be with her until he died. They both already wanted this- marriage would just make it official to everyone else.
“I’m going to propose to Emma,” Paul blurted at Guy’s Night.
“What?” Bill asked.
“About time,” Ted scoffed.
“I have a ring picked out and everything. i just don’t know when,”
“You know, I proposed to Vanessa when we were having sex,” Bill commented awkwardly. “But she said yes,”
“Look where that got you,” Ted pointed out.
“Not what I meant, Ted,” Bill shot back. “Look, Paul, all I’m saying is whenever feels like the best time, even if it’s weird, go for it,”
“Just not during sex, that’s just stupid,” Ted laughed. Bill glared at him, and Ted nudged him. “All in good tidings, Bill,”
“Thanks guys,” Paul smiled.
Turns out, the right time was on a Saturday night, while they watched Dateline on their couch. She was wearing his sweater, and the cat was on her lap, and she was so perfect. Paul couldn’t think of a better time to ask the woman he loved to marry him.
“Emma?”
“Yeah, Paul?”
Here goes nothing, he thought. “Em, I love you. And honestly, you supported me at my best, and helped me up through my worst; and I like to think I’ve done the same for you. You helped me become the man I am today, and..and everything you do reminds me every day why I’m so thankful God led me to you,”
“Paul, what are you doing?” Emma asked. She gasped when he got up from the couch and onto once knee.
“This is a little bit awkward because I don’t have the ring with me,” Paul laughed, “But Emma Lauren Perkins, would you marry me?”
Emma put her hands over her mouth, and started to laugh. She let go, and she was smiling so wide. “Yes. Yes, yes, yes!” She jumped of the couch (the cat hissing and running away) and into Paul’s arms. “Of course!”
Paul kissed her, and she kissed back. They were getting married.
_______________
Paul’s been waiting for three and a half years for this day, but even in his dreams did he picture hoe beautiful Emma would be walking down the aisle.
They couldn’t afford much- they worked minimal wage jobs, and even with help from Paul’s father, they couldn’t afford a big venue. So, they decided on a small reception on the beach in Rhode Island. The boat ride and drive from Hatchetfeild to the beach was about 2 hours. Once they got there, they unpacked their stuff at the hotel room. They didn’t plan on having much of a honeymoon, just at the same beach they were to marry in for a week or so. But that was enough for them.
When the day finally came, Paul was a bubble of nerves. The wedding would take place in a small park, with the first dance and after party actually being on the beach (no one wanted to see Emma trip on her face because of sand on their wedding day (as funny has Paul and Emma seemed to think it would be, they decided against it).
So, there stood Paul, waiting at the end of the aisle. Emma’s friends and relatives on one side, Paul’s father and coworkers on the other. Bill offered to marry them, since Emma was atheist and priests were fucking expensive. The bridesmaids and Paul’s mates walked hand in hand down the aisle. Mr. Davidson and his wife walked down next, and Nathan winked at Paul as he passed. Finally, Paul saw Emma walk down the aisle with his father, and he lost his breath. The white dress complimented the rose flower crown that she and him were proud to say she made herself, and with her hair in a loose bun, she looked more like an angel than he’d ever seen her. When she got to the from of the alter, Paul nearly broke tradition and kissed her right then and there- but he had to hold back. The both smiled at each other while Bill went through the motions.
“Paul Matthews, you may now recite your vows,” Bill said.
Paul took a deep breath. “Can I just say how nervous I am?” The crowd laughed. “No, really!” He looked over at her. “Emma, when i met you, i was a mess. I didn’t think I was going to get better, that nothing in life mattered You came to me at the hardest point in my life, and you embraced it. You were always so gentle and patient with me, and that really meant the world to me. When I met you, the world just got so much brighter. The smells, the brightness, the colors, everything just just better. And times got hard for us, but I’m so thankful that you stuck through it all. You mean the world to me. I love you so much,”
Emma laughed an wiped away a couple of tears as Bill spoke up again. “Emma Perkins, you may recite you vows,”
“God damn, Paul, you’re a sap,” She muttered, laughing again. “Paul, I didn’t think I was worthy of love before I met you. I used to think that I’d always have to change myself for love, because that’s all I grew up knowing what love was. And frankly, I didn’t want that. The you stumbled into my life, and I realized I didn’t have to change a thing to love someone wholeheartedly. You taught me to love myself, and I hope I’ve done the same for you. Paul, I love you more than words can describe, and I hope you’ll be right there next to me for whatever the hell life wants to throw at us,”
“Paul and Emma Matthews, by the power rested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife,”
Emma beat Paul do it, dipping him and kissing like there was no tomorrow.
The rest of the reception was on the beach, and everyone had a wonderful time. Emma and Paul’s first dance was to Hozier’s Shrike, in honor of their first date. After that, a playlist of random 80s music and rave music blasted from the speakers, and everyone jumped and danced like there was no tomorrow. Even Emma’s biology teacher, Dr. Hidgens, was dancing. It went on for another three hours of so, until midnight hit, and everyone bid goodbye to the wedding. Now, all that was left was leftover cake, Emma and Paul, and the crashing waves.
“Emma Mathews?” Paul asked as he sat next to her.
“Yes, Paul Matthews?”
“Can we just fall asleep here? I want to remember this moment,”
“Of course,” Emma smiled, and they both laid down. Emma head on Paul chest, Paul holding Emma’s hand. “I love you, Em,”
“I love you too,”
They both drifted off to the sound of the waves and seagull cries.
____________
Beep, beep, beep.
The alarm clock woke Paul up. Which was strange, because unless he suddenly remembered to set an alarm, his alarm clock shouldn’t be ringing. He rolled himself out of bed, looking out the window. That was a hell of a storm last night- the power transformer almost blew out. Thank god he still had running water, because he hadn’t showered all weekend (not getting out of bed does that to a person). He walked over to the bathroom, and doused some water on his face. that’s when he noticed the ring. It was a wedding ring. The hell, Paul thought. He’d not married, he doesn’t even have a girlfriend. He took it off, and threw it into the trashcan.
He could hear his next door neighbor singing in the shower. He never sang. Odd. Who knows, maybe it was a good day for him- for what it was worth, Paul thought his voice was lovely. He turned on the radio to listen to while he made some toast. Today is March 24, 2018, Donna said.
Paul had a pang of deja vu. He felt like he was supposed to do something important today. He looked around his room, then shrugged. Everything seemed normal. Expect the wedding ring. After a moment of thought, he brushed the thought of. He was drunk last night, maybe he just got married it Bill by mistake.
Paul finished up his morning routine, and locked his apartment up. Maybe he’d stop but Beanie’s again- there was a cute barista there, and who knows, maybe he would ask her out.
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30 Day Monster Challenge 2 - Day #19: Favorite Minions/Henchmen
1. Minions (Overlord [Video Game])
There is only one creature we call ‘Minion’ in this house, and it is the Minions from Overlord. (The game, not the anime.) The Minions are the perfect… well, minions. They’re design is mostly goofy, but there’s also something kind of horrible to them; they’re like somebody threw an imp, a spider monkey, and a goblin in a sack and didn’t open it up again until the screaming stopped. Those buggy yellow eyes, the hunched backs, the crooked tails, the shrill voices; this is what pops into my head when I think of what an evil minion is supposed to be like. They are utterly and totally devout to their master; they have one purpose in life, and that is to serve you. They think absolutely nothing of throwing themselves into a forge just to upgrade your weapons or taking on a monster just because you tell them to.
Watching them swarm over a cyclops like a nest of army ants is always fun, but that hivemind mentality shouldn’t be mistaken for a lack of individual. The Minions are kind of precursors to the uruks from Shadow of Mordor; the longer they live and the more fights they survive, the more unique they become. They’re given names and titles, and they start gathering weapons and armor. It’s never made clear what exactly the Minions are in Overlord, but the implication isn’t that an Overlord chooses them; they choose the Overlord. Without the Minions, and Overlord is just some spooky adventurer in a suit of armor. The Minions make the man, and the fact that you need them as much as they need you is a pretty interesting power dynamic.
2. X-49 (Samurai Jack)
Just… do I really have to say anything? It was one of the best episodes in Samurai Jack, one of the best animated series of all time. And the music and the writing and the cinematography and oh god it’s all coming back at once
3. Igor (Young Frankenstein)
There never was an Igor in Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein; he’s a fabricated character at least partially concocted from Edgar Allan Poe’s Hop-Frog that somehow wormed himself into horror mythology. And honestly, thank goodness for that or we wouldn’t have had Marty Feldman’s fantastic performance for Young Frankenstein. Feldman looks like he was born for the role; his exophthalmos was a problem he dealt with his entire life, but Igor is just one example of how he incorporated his condition into his comedy personas. Igor is a good comedic counterpart to Gene Wilder’s Frankenstein in a classic double-act kind of way. Where Wilder’s Frankenstein is driven to escape his destiny or conform to it, Feldman’s Igor is committed to his role from the beginning, with no real perspective on it in the grand scheme of things. Igor undercuts Frankenstein’s deliberate melodrama to remind the audience that it’s all a joke.
4. Kobolds (Dungeons and Dragons)
Kobolds are one of the greatest success stories in tabletop roleplaying monsters. Kobolds have been in Dungeons and Dragons since the beginning, but they spent 1st and 2nd edition as basically another kind of goblin. Outside a few rare exceptions, kobolds were just an adventurer’s in-between step as they transitioned from clearing out rats in cellars to goblins in caves. For 3rd edition, the designers felt they needed to give kobolds something; a hook, a feature, a raison d’etre. So the design team though, “What if the littlest monsters had dreams about being the biggest? What if kobolds thought they were dragons?” The rest is history; kobolds became dragon minions, cultists who firmly believe that they are descended from the great wyrms they worship. Inside ever little kobold beats the heart of a mighty dragon, and their pluck and determination pushes them to reach for heights most humanoid races never even dream of. Kobolds are not only great examples of how to make a monster interesting from a game design perspective, but also of how endearing characters can be when you give them goals.
5. Pleiades (Overlord [Anime])
It always bothers me when evil overlords leave their castle staff of their minions list. A great villain should have their power displayed in everything around them, from their captains to their cooks. That’s why Ainz Ooal Gown’s Pleiades are so great; the castle maids for an evil fortress, each on is an individual fighter with her own superpowers. Following organization rules, each of the maids is also a monster; werewolves, shapeshifting oozes, a sentient swarm of insects, etc. And that’s the kind of creativity and attention to detail I love to see in an evil overlord’s forces. Look at where there isn’t a superpowered minion, and say, “No, this will not do. More evil.”
6. Hunchbacks (Castlevania)
I remember that my mind was blown when I finally realized the ‘fleamen’ from Castlevania were supposed to be hunchbacked Igors. While I was kind of disappointed that bizarre insect men hybrids, I am still happy that Castlevania didn’t neglect a favorite horror trope. Castlevania actually has a pretty unique staff; undead maids, zombie butchers, a plague doctor groundskeeper, and skeleton butlers. But it wasn’t until the Lords of Shadow games that the hunchbacks started being explored. One of the good things about Lords of Shadow was the implication that Castlevania itself is alive; the castle has always existed, and can’t even really be fully pulled through to our world. When the castle needs repairs, though, someone to repair it and expand it, it summons the hunchbacks out of nowhere. The hunchbacks are tied to the castle; they’re like cells in its body. They might know more about Castlevania itself than even Dracula, but they aren’t letting on. Their only job is to serve their master, whoever or whatever it might be.
7. Maleficent’s Goblins (Sleeping Beauty)
Maleficent’s goblins are little bundles of medieval monstrosity with enough character to be charming. They’re like the Minions, where I honestly can’t imagine them existing without a master. It wouldn’t surprise me if it turned out they were just demons conjured up by Maleficent from her firepit. The odds and ends of medieval armor and weaponry on top of their gargoyle aesthetic makes me think of very early Tolkien, like the first covers for The Hobbit and Return of the King. These little guys were the forerunners to orcs, uruk-hai, parademons, and every other evil monster army. Sometimes I still wish we could go back to minions like these.
8. Lurch (Addams Family)
The quintessential creepy butler. I feel like Lurch parallels Marty Feldman’s Igor in some pretty interesting ways. They’re both essentially half a joke, part of a comedy routine that requires someone else to land the punchline. The difference is that while Igor undermined Frankenstein to lighten the mood, Luch is deadly serious to contrast the Addams’ playfulness. Lurch wasn’t just a straight-man; he was a brick wall that you could throw anything off of. To be honest, I always kind of wondered what exactly Lurch was; I never really thought of him as human. My favorite theories are either that he was a flesh golem (since he was clearly based off Karloff’s Frankenstein), a homunculus grown for the family and passed down through generations, or just some really tall guy in a suit.
9. Dwergi (Van Helsing)
The Dwergi in Van Helsing have an unnecessarily cool design for what amounts to being Dracula’s grunts. The goggles, spines, and full leather outfits make me think of aliens or something that would be working for Clive Barker’s Cenobites. I can’t help but think of the ‘jawas’ that were through the gate in Phantasm. But I think that I love the Dwergi most as concepts for evil dwarves; ‘dwergi’ most likely derives from ‘dvergar’, a German word for dwarf. There are even evil dwarves in Dungeons and Dragons named duergar and derro. And that connections opens up so many possibilities for me. Imagine a dwarven sub-race mutated to be classical Igor characters, or adventurers encountering derro dressed all in mad scientist gear underground. The Dwergi have hidden depths when you know where to look.
10. Stormtroopers (Star Wars)
Out of the standard henchmen armies, Stormtroopers are still my favorite. Stormtroopers are up there with Red Shirts in terms of incompetence and mortality rates. Every now and then some random Stormtrooper manages to stand out and look like a badass, but even they usually have a lifespan of however long until the heroes arrive. I’ve heard some people argue that the humanizing elements of Stormtroopers, the way they talk about their day or are just trying to do a job, makes the very Nazi-coded Empire too sympathetic. But I would argue the opposite; the human aspects of the Stormtroopers make it clear how actually farcical the whole Empire is. The Stormtroopers aren’t some elite kill-force, they’re bumbling idiots. Whatever brutal efficiency they’re ascribed usually happens off-screen, and it quickly gets drowned out by the chorus of Wilhelm screams heard while trooper after trooper dies ridiculously. The Stormtroopers make it clear how fascism doesn’t raise the individual up but uses them as a disposable resource. The Stormtroopers as human characters make the Empire look inept, not empowered.
#30 Day Monster Challenge 2#30 Day Monster Challenge#overlord#samurai jack#star wars#addams family#dungeons and dragons#long post
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abe? :o
during the kakuna wars i was stuck at a club event, which meant i couldn’t go on stream, but i COULD intermittently check the live updater. i got basically nothing done that day, and when charizard got released i almost started crying into a robot. that’s still basically how i feel about anniversary red
anyway. headcanons:
he’s always wanted to Do A Science–specifically, to learn something new about the world, to put it there for everyone to see. because pallet town is so small and he knew like 5 entire people, this meant he wanted to be a professor
he spent a lot of time around the lab, sometimes reading stuff, sometimes helping oak
blue actually spent a lot of time in the lab too, but that’s partly because it was the only place in pallet town with internet
oak’s computer had the outside world’s 2014 internet, and no one figured out anything was up until postgame
abe used to look up to professor oak a lot, which is…unfortunate, in retrospect
he’s pretty quiet naturally, and he’s not good at interacting with people and will generally default to doing stuff by himself, but at the same time, if you show anything remotely resembling friendship toward him, he will get Immediately attached
after AR ends that probably…contributes to why he doesn’t interact with others much
on the current point on the timeline he’s getting better about that but Everyone He Knows Fucking Dies, so. hoo
he’s pretty forgiving of people in general as long as they actually demonstrate that they’re changing. still, it’s kind of a “forgive but don’t forget” thing
abe’s a huge nerd but you already knew that
i picture him looking basically like FRLG!vanilla!red but with glasses
he has a tendency to pretend he’s doing Perfectly Fine for as long as possible which leads to the inevitable crash being like 10x worse than it would have been if he Admitted His Life Sucks
he spent the whole time between the kakuna wars and the battle tent in partial-shutdown pure-determination only-kinda-verbal pretending mode, and not even pretending well because, uh, i’ve never decided EXACTLY how old he was at the time but it can’t be more than 13
the battle tent was SO bad that leech king had to fucking telepathically confront him about it, which was the only reason he worked out that if he didn’t let himself have an emotion he was literally going to die
but it still took until way after AR, once the Voices weren’t watching, for him to sit down somewhere and have the good long cry he needed that whole time
the funny thing is that his Big Science Thing might have turned out to be the pokedex even before he got possessed and told to do the impossible?
he likes putting names to stuff, having a list of This Is How This Works. hence the whole map thing, and the dome thing, etc
after AR and until the end of anicrys he spends basically all his time tracking the glitches, seeing what forms they come in, and trying to figure out what the fuck they want
a lot of this involves sulking in a damn mountain (because mt silver in any universe is Important), which a) relatable, and b) works out pretty well for him because he’d. rather not deal with people right now anyway
the thing about abe is that he can be oblivious about things while being scarily smart about others. he theorizes that the dokokashira glitch might be a thing before the Voices even enter a universe where it’s possible. and yet…actually i can’t think of a good example right now. i was gonna say something about time but i realized time doesn’t exist
plot stuff:
the PC was always a bit of a sentient location–the Voices thought it was specifically a murder machine but that was mostly because we suck–but there was always a world inside there, and it was always kinda alive
after bill died, oak got his hands all up in this interior world and, after fucking up a bunch of times (and with the help of the PC itself, which wanted to Be Something, had absorbed a lot of knowledge from deposited pokemon and what stuck was a lot of PC war lore shit), managed to make it into a copy of runwun kanto, from a few months before the Voices arrived.
oak designed this virtual kanto as a trap for the voices, where, once they got a Host, he’d give them an impossible task to keep them there forever
and protect all the REAL people out on this side of the PC. and it didn’t matter if anyone in the PCverse suffered, and it didn’t matter if the Voices helped create something that would rip that whole world apart–because it’s not like they’re real, right? they do a good job of pretending, almost fool him a few times, but they can’t be ALIVE, right?
oak only really feels guilty when interacting with AR!blue, and the first time he feels regret is when he realizes that somehow, AR!blue is starting to remember the “real” world (and also tpp1!blue is starting to remember the PCverse, but that doesn’t come up until way later)
oh yeah, and then it turns out that olden doesn’t just have power in the PC
even with all the ways oak miscalculated, it still takes him a long time to understand that the PCverse folks are, like, Real People Who Exist
fucking asshole
uh i witnessed the battle tent incident and it was like a creepypasta and my favorite part is the individual parts of that glitch (especially the “no pokemon -> black out forever” part) can mostly happen in the original games
i’m still upset about the whole “char comes back as a fucked-up glitch hell ghost and probably tells abe it’s his fault because Glitch Angery” thing
ahhhh fuck that makes a lot more sense in retrospect actually. that was already my lore and then we got the reason Glitch Angery being a double serving of “pissed off because they died and everyone moved on like they didn’t give a shit” no WONDER. huh. i’m aware i made half this up but still, why does everything in tpp happen so perfectly
character stuff:
i think AR is the most i’ve ever cared about the actual pokemon instead of getting too distracted by crying over hosts, so:
i started typing something about leech king and i think it’s turned into a full-fledged ficlet, which hopefully i can post in the next couple days, so thanks
charizard was The Best, and a huge sweetie who also loved just fucking destroying shit–in one of my personal runs i had a gyarados like that, he’s great–and i’m still fucked up about her
we have a charizard ‘M in sidegame right now, which because i love pokemon glitches is Hell The Fuck Yeah, but at the same time when i try to lore about it i’m not sure if i’m…ready?
like, i want to believe but, if it IS her, how much of it is really her and how much…isn’t? i mean, i keep applying the same trope to Every Character In TPP but idek. i miss char
kakuna was more of a symbol than anything, but then i’m generally of the opinion that the casualties of our PC wars are no one’s fault but our damn selves
(anicrys is weird because it’s post-canon and post-given-save so it’s like, schrodinger’s releases, so it messes with the mood in all my lore)
the fact that abe and alice are now in the same universe and can interact with each other is Terrifying
in my kanto fusion timeline, they were the ones who got the multiverse transfer working, since it needed one person on each side. i think alice figured out how to communicate with the PCverse too–oak had a window to the outside but he couldn’t go back and forth, and he burned pretty much every way in (but alice is Also Smart)
together they design and invent a bunch of shit that, uh, it’s cool, but i’m also afraid, although i also love them
abe was pretty sure baba died in the pc and had no clue about her situation until a random girl walked up to him and introduced herself as his fish, so it took him awhile to, like, believe that
i’m really big on tpp multiverse theory so i headcanon that a lot of our repeat-design hosts are AU selves
this doesn’t always apply–like, i usually headcanon napoleon and pepe/petrov/whatever-his-name-is as brothers. but all our male hosts from pallet town are from the same stock, is what i’m saying
abe is a lot like (but not exactly like) how red would have turned out if we hadn’t hivemind overloaded him straight to hell
their relationship is complicated. the only time red tried to kill abe was the first time they met, which all things considered is probably a good sign
abe mostly views red like a weird older brother he didn’t know about. red’s thoughts on abe vary a lot (and he still can’t believe abe’s a domist what the Fuck) but eventually he’s kinda fond of him. he Gets It in a way that most the other hosts don’t
this isn’t a CR but i, personally, IRL, will tear a window into the tppverse and punch oak with my own bare hands
#howlback#tft talks#twitch plays pokemon#tpp#also yeah feel free to reblog any of these!#sorry this took me a lil while#headcanons#hostposts
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@shyfidxlity @not-a-jonas-brother @magicbaking
So I guess. This is it? I mean, it’s probably not it, but it feels like it, like the end of the world a little.
But I guess I should start at the beginning, not the end. I guess for this story, the beginning would be the island. 2 years ago, right around now, actually? Almost the end of the year the five of us decided to go to Edward’s Island for the junior retreat. And, no, you didn’t read that wrong, and I didn’t make a typo; there were five of us on the Island that night.
You don’t remember her. You couldn’t- the sunken made sure of that. But she was there showing her new, ‘fresh as a daisy’ step-brother (she would have tossed out the ‘step’ by now) around, and she was planning on spending the night with her best friend, her best friend’s high school sweetheart, and...and the girl who hated her for something that was never her fault. The death of her brother, Michael.
Her name is Alex, and she was there that night. She brought the radio, she ‘tuned in’ to the signal, she-
She trapped herself in with those ghosts so we could all get off the island when the ferry finally came around. We all got to leave in the morning. She didn’t.
And I guess more specifically she was trapped, not on the island- but on whatever plane of existence the ghosts were- are? tethered to. A segment of a cosmic string, a universe that rewinds to that same night over and over again. It’s a lot of physics theory.
So. That’s where she is right now. And that’s where she’s been. Living out a thousand lifetimes in the span of a couple of years for us.
Which, I guess, brings me to my next topic. Anna Shae.
Idk if you guys remember, but sometime last year, before we all went...off the grid? dead on the blog? for a while, Anna somehow managed to possess me as herself. Like, not as a part of the hivemind consisting of 86 crew members and 12 passengers, but as one, singular entity.
A collection of memories and feelings, detached from the stifling anger and infantile want of the sunken. In the week of her possessing my body, she remembered who she was, and what her and Maggie had been trying so hard to prevent, and she realized what had happened to me. To us. And she began trying to figure out ways to fix this, fix what the ghosts had broken, and give us back our lives.
And, I know you’re probably thinking that sounds suspect, and a year ago I would have agreed. But I’m...so tired, of all this. Of the migraines, of not being able to look at myself in the mirror, of the nosebleeds, and the time I’m losing. We’re losing. Moments of our lives we’ll never get back from these ghosts who can’t accept that their time is over. I’m willing to try anything, at this point.
Anything to stop this,
anything to repay the person who- who saved my life.
So I’ve put my faith in Anna. I’ve been following her directions for...a little over three months now? I think.
With her help, and...help from the other Jonas, from the looped reality, I’ve put together this- thing. We’ve been jokingly calling it a Stargate, but I guess that’s pretty much what it is. It’s supposed to- generate negative mass, which only exists in physics theory, and not actual physics, so it shouldn’t really exist, I guess, but two years ago I didn’t think ghosts were real either, so. Anyways, it makes a portal, or something.
And I’m taking it to Edwards. Tonight.
I’m going to try and end this, once and for all.
By the time you read this I’ll probably already be on the last ferry over.
I don’t know if this thing will even- work. There was no way to test it. So...I guess this is- this is for if it doesn’t work. I don’t know.
I just wanted to thank you all, for- for everything.
Nona, I know you were probably so sick of my shit in high school- I mean, I never did shut up about how shitty I thought Alex was. You...probably don’t remember that. But you put up with it, you- you kept me alive, those years after Michael died. You forced me to get up in the morning, to go to school, to keep trying, even when I couldn’t see the worth in day to day life anymore. You were- are an anchor, and I couldn’t have gotten this far without you.
Ren, we’ve- I mean, it’s weird. We’ve known each other for a long time. You were always closer to Alex than me, and our friend groups didn’t ever overlap, but passing gossip back and forth in history was always fun- I still don’t know how you found out about me making out with Jesse’s ex-girlfriend, because I am almost certain you were out the weekend that all went down.
But, anyways, you. You always did make me laugh, so. Thanks, for that.
Jonas. You moved to town two years ago. Literally the night everything went to shit, and- I mean, I never thought we’d be this close. The first time I talked to you, it was to tell you your new sister had killed her brother, and that you were...just a replacement for something we’d lost.
Despite that, within the next year, you helped me move out of the prison I’d called home for 18 years of my life, you offered to share a roof with me, and put up with me replacing all your ax deodorant with a half-decent brand.
I couldn’t have been more wrong about you, and I don’t know what I did to deserve your forgiveness, your kindness, or your friendship, but it’s meant the world to me.
and. that’s it. so,
Goodbye guys
I’m sorry
and
I love you.
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Veni, Vedi - Chapter 2
Fandom: Pacific Rim
Pairings: Eventual Newt/Hermann/Vanessa
Word Count: 5075
Summary: Everything changed after they collapsed the Breach. Newt lost the thing he had dedicated his life to. Hermann lost all of his certainties, and gained a family. Vanessa found something to hope for again. And, somehow, all of their lives got tangled together.
Also available on AO3.
Newt
He knew where he was, but the scanner still felt too small and too dark. Newt was sweating, and the smell reminded him of hundreds of bodies pressed close to him as they listened to the sounds of destruction just above their heads. As they waited for the verdict on whether they would live or die. The vibrations of the scanner added to the illusion, resembling a little too much for comfort the tremors caused by giant footsteps.
Still. Newt knew where he was. He could deal with it. He was a rockstar. He had survived drifting with a kaiju. He wasn't going to be scared by something as silly as a CT scan.
He started looking for songs he knew by heart, singing them in his head and adapting his breathing to their rhythm.
In the time it took for the scan to be completed, he had gone through a few pop songs, the entirety of Bohemian Rhapsody and some of the old rock classics his uncle used to listen to. He had also realized he still remembered some of the German punk numbers he had held onto as a token of home during his time at MIT, and that he could still sing one of the Code Geass openings, despite having never learned to speak Japanese. He had always meant to get to it someday, had even seriously considered it between his fourth and fifth doctorates. But languages were hard. Like, stupidly hard, for some reason. And he was still bilingual, so that should count for something, even if his German had become saddeningly limited.
Singing helped to distract him, for a while. But he still wanted to move. He needed to move like he needed to breathe. He knew he shouldn't, he knew that it would only make things worse because he would be forced to re-do the scan from the start. But rationality didn't stop all of his instincts from thinking that he needed to get out, claw his way out and into the open, where he could see threats coming and defend himself
“Nope. Not doing this, buddy,” Newt told himself, unable to think of another song he knew the words to. “You're not a predator. You're a tiny human with terrible eyesight and the muscles of a six-year old. So you're going to be a good boy and lie in this tube without moving a finger, and you're going to be fine.”
This scan was stupid anyway. There was almost no chance that their neurological readings would have gotten back to baseline in just a night, but there was also no chance that anybody in the Shatterdome would be able to analyse the results. They had nothing to compare them to, because nobody had drifted with a freaking hivemind before.
Sure, people could make theories. But you would need a genius to be able to come even close to the truth. A genius who knew the way the drift system worked like the back of her hand.
They would need a genius like Caitlin Lightcap, the woman who had first made the drift work. They needed Caitlin Lightcap, but Lightcap was dead, because humanity couldn't have nice things.
Hermann and Newt himself were probably the next best things but... Newt wasn't sure he was up to the task, if he was quite honest. The kaiju might be gone, the War might have been won, but Newt wasn't sure he had ever been more scared than now.
He had been the one to set up the PONs system that enabled the threeway, interspecies drift. He knew how bad his own situation could be. Normal systems enabled communication between two similar, compatible consciousnesses and the neutral, blank pseudo-consciousness of the Jaeger. But for his drift with the kaiju, Newt had needed to lower the compatibility threshold and allow for a much heavier flow of data than would have been normally treated. Alien data, which had flooded his and Hermann's brains. How much had their neural pathways needed to adapt to be able to process even a fragment of this data? Would these adaptations be permanent or not?
And what if Hannibal Chau had been right? What if Otachi had really been looking for him through the remnants of their drift connection? Did it mean that he and Hermann could still be connected to the Hive?
Would the connection be able to hold even with the Breach closed? Newt guessed that Hermann might have opinions about that, since he had spent so long studying the Breach's structure. He should ask, sometime. Maybe Hermann would be nice enough to lie and tell him that the probability wasn't high enough to worry about. Ah. It was a nice thought to entertain.
Newt wondered how well Hermann was handling the situation. He didn't seem to realize the mannerisms he had picked up from Newt's side of the drift. Newt wasn't sure if Hermann was aware of how dangerous this could be. If they were being so heavily influenced by each other just from one drift together, the effects of the kaiju could be counted on to be much worse.
Grimly, Newt considered the fact that he had drifted with the kaiju twice.
The soft ping and crackling of the intercome that let him know his scan was over came at just the right moment. Newt genuinely wasn't sure if he would have been able to stay still for much longer.
The machine slowly opened, and he had to blink several times against the harsh fluorescent lights of the room. Once he was handed his glasses, he avoided the gazes of all the medical staff, whispered a quick thank you, and got out of the room as quickly as his wobbly legs would allow.
The medical staff weren't a threat. There was nothing there for him to claw through. He was safe, he was fine and, most importantly, he was human. Yeah. He was rocking this.
Done with his second scan, Newt walked to the mess hall to grab something to eat that wasn't soy milk and stale biscuits. He was hoping to see Hermann there, but either the man wasn't done with his own medical tests, or he had already headed back to his room or the lab. It wouldn't be atypical behaviour.
As he looked around the room, searching with increasing desperation for someone who wasn't there, Newt was hit by a sense of longing so sudden and powerful that he almost dropped his tray. Sitting down at the nearest empty table, he took some time to assess his own feelings.
He was thinking of a woman. A woman in her early twenties, with dark skin and long braided hair. He recognized her as Vanessa, Hermann's wife, although a much younger Vanessa than the woman Newt had met a few years ago. The Vanessa of then had had her hair shaved close, and wore contact lenses instead of the oval glasses Newt could now imagine her with.
This was Hermann's Vanessa. This was Hermann's memory of the Vanessa he had met at university. The sense of longing he had felt was Hermann's own desire to see his wife again.
Newt felt sick. This wasn't something he should have been privy too. This wasn't something Hermann would ever have thought to share. It was one thing to have glimpsed some of the man's memories in the flow of the drift, but another thing entirely to be experiencing Hermann's most private feelings outside of it.
Fuck.
His food was looking a lot less appetizing than it had just a few minutes ago. He toyed with it for a while, lost in thoughts that weren't his. The more he tried not to pry, the more Hermann's memories flooded into his mind.
Twenty minutes and a splitting headache later, Newt shoveled all of his food into his mouth as fast as he could, not caring about how any of it tasted, and put his dirty tray in a dedicated rack.
He was three steps away from the door when a hand on his upper arm stopped him.
“Hey man! We missed you at the party yesterday!”
The voice belonged to Tendo Choi, who was looking exhausted but happy. Newt could sympathize with the first part at least.
“How are you holding up?”
Newt tried to answer and let out a nervous laugh instead. Tendo frowned for a second, so Newt was quick to put on a smile and pretend that nothing had happened. “Me and Hermann got stuck in Medical all night. Supposedly so they could keep an eye on our brain chemistry and make sure we didn't die. I personnally think it was just because the medical staff wanted to hoard more alcohol for themselves. They were in pretty bad shape this morning.”
Tendo relaxed, letting out a laugh of his own. “Well, you're welcome to my quarters tonight if you want. We're having a small-scale repeat of last night with Raleigh and Mako, because they were stuck in the Med Bay too yesterday.”
“I'll... I'll think about it,” Newt said awkwardly. The day before, he would have given anything to go to the party. Right now, he felt shaken. His head was killing him, and he wasn't sure alcohol was advisable in such conditions. “Thanks, man.”
“You're welcome, brother,” Tendo replied, patting him on the shoulder. “Shit, I should be thanking you. You went out on the field during the first attack. Freaking saved the world. That took some guts.”
Newt let out another nervous laugh, running a hand through his hair. “I have no idea what I was fucking thinking.” He could still smell the sweat that had trickled down his face as Otachi came down on the bunker. He could feel his muscles locked in place by fear as a glowing blue tongue swept through the air, looking for him, it's looking for him, he knows it, he's gonna die, he's gonna die, he's gonna-
And there was another question for him. How many of his symptoms were caused by PTSD instead of by the process of drifting, and how would he ever learn to make the difference between them?
“Still. Saved the world. Not many people reckless enough to do that.”
Tendo's tone was reassuring. It felt like he could see that Newt was building up a façade, and like he guessed at least part of what was hiding behind it. It wouldn't be surprising considering how close Tendo had been to some of the Jaeger pilots. A pilot without trauma was more the exception than the rule.
“I'm a rockstar.” The words came out more self-depricating than confident, but Newt's smile did turn genuine after a second. After all, he truly had done it. He truly had saved the world. Maybe he'd fucked two of this generation's greatest brains in the process, but who had to know that? He was a rockstar. Yeah.
“See you later then, starboy!” Tendo said with a grin, before leaving him to grab his lunch.
Newt started walking again. He wasn't sure exactly of where he was going. Earlier, he had just wanted to be out of the Medical Bay, and it had been time for lunch so that had seemed like a logical option, but now... He knew going into the city would be too high a risk. First because of the damage done to the infrastructures and the risk of Kaiju Blue contamination, and then because it would trigger too many memories of Otachi and Hannibal Chau. Tendo had called him reckless and... Well, yeah. He was. He had drifted with a piece of kaiju brain using a custom system he had built out of old tech he'd had to steal. If “reckful” had been a word, his actions definitely wouldn't have fit the definition. But even if he was reckless, Newt wasn't stupid. He knew that he had his own limits.
He wondered if it wouldn't be better to just go back to his room and get some more rest but... it would feel too empty. Too impersonal. Too much like being alone, which he technically was, but that didn't mean he wanted to feel it.
That only left one option, really.
Entering the lab felt like releasing a breath he'd been holding. It felt like coming home. Which was kind of sad, Newt guessed, but could anyone blame him? This is where he had spent most of his time for the last ten years. Maybe not this lab specifically, but all labs had a similar quality to them.
Newt looked around, at the different vats with floating organs, and at Hermann's dusty blackboard.
There was still work to do.
That, too, felt like coming home.
Vanessa
Her phone started ringing, and she slipped across the floor and almost fell in her haste to grab it. It wasn't her proudest moment. But she had been waiting for this.
It wasn't that Vanessa's life revolved around her husband. Quite the opposite. For years, it had revolved around anything and everything but him. Vanessa wasn't going to feel guilty about being so excited to finally talked to the man she loved, not after all the times she had wished he had been there as she aimlessly wandered through her small apartment.
“Hello?” She said as she picked up.
“'Nessa.” Hermann said her name like it was the answer to a riddle. Like it was the exhale after the first puff of a cigarette. He said her name, and just like that Vanessa knew that he missed her just as much as she missed him.
“Hello Hermann.”
She felt tears well up in her eyes. She wondered if she could blame them on a hormone imbalance due to her pregnancy. She was hearing his voice. She was hearing his voice but, unlike all the previous times they had called each other, they had time to talk now. They had time to think. Time to plan. All of time was unfolding before them, because it was over.
So, now that they had the time, instead of rushing through everything they had to say to each other, they took a minute just to listen to each other's breathing. Vanessa closed her eyes. Even though they were hundreds of miles away from each other, the moment felt intimate, precious. They were there, and they were alive.
“It's real, right?” Vanessa asked, breaking the silent. “It's true?”
“Yes. It's over. We won the Kaiju War.”
“Thank you.” Vanessa felt more tears building behind her eyes. She knew she wouldn't be able to hold them back for the entirety of this conversation. “Thank you for everything you've done. I... I hated it. I hate you being away. I hated knowing you were in danger. It was so selfish, but I hated it and I... I was so scared that we would lose. That we would all die. I was so scared that we would have lived apart for so long and then just died, on two different continents. But now...” She sat down on her couch and hugged her knees close to her chest with one arm, phone cradled between her ear and her shoulder. “Now I'm glad. I'm glad you did all that. Because you saved the world.”
“I didn't do it on my own, 'Nessa. I played but a small part. There were so many other there. So many others who...”
Hermann cut himself off and Vanessa closed her eyes. “I know. I know Hermann. We'll remember them. I will remember them. But not right now.” A first tear slid down her cheek. “Right now I just want to be selfish a little longer. Right now I want to think about all of those who are alive. We'll have time to remember later. But those who... those who sacrificed themselves. They wanted us to have a future. So I think... I think they would agree. We need to learn how to live in that future first.”
Hermann stayed silent for a few seconds on the other side of the world.
“It feels like a prayer that has been answered. We won the Kaiju War and you're gonna have a baby.”
Vanessa laughed. The sound escaped her mouth like a frightened deer.
Hermann had once explained how he could not not believe in a higher power. Too much of the world made sense for there to be no Rule . He did not, however, believe in any kind of god in the most usual sense of the term. He did not believe in prayer or church rituals. He did not believe in personal gods.
Still, Vanessa had a sense that he had his own ways of trying to communicate with the divine. In the way she imagined his own theology, she thought that the Rule, the power and sense of the universe wanted to be understood. Through his work, Hermann was doing his best to make that wish come true.
“I know. I hope so. None of this feels real.”
She was so happy. She could hear so much hope in Hermann's voice. She had needed that reassurance that she had made the right choice.
After all, when she had decided to keep the baby, it had been mostly her own decision. They had talked about having children before, but those conversations had felt like lifetimes ago, like old daydreams, once they had started losing the War. She hadn't been sure, not entirely, that the Hermann of today would still share the same dreams as the Hermann of ten years ago.
Now she knew. Hermann's voice had curled around the word “baby” with awe and with joy, and she knew that the child would be wanted. It wouldn't just be her own selfish dream. It would be theirs.
Silence settled again. Vanessa could think of none of the thousand things she had wanted to say. It was all lost under the weight of so many years of silence and distance.
Finally, she managed to ask a question.
“Are you coming back?”
Hermann sighed, and Vanessa's chest constricted. She had expected this.
“I'm gonna try. But... I'm still under the PPDC's authority. What's left of it. And... there's still work. There's still work to do.”
“There's always work to do, Hermann.” It was a bit of a reproach, but Vanessa hadn't been able to hold herself back.
“I know. Trust me, I know, and I'm gonna try. I miss you so much. But they... I'm needed. There's only two of us in K-Science but there's still so much to do... I can't just leave, not... not right away.”
“I know.” She meant it, even though it hurt. She knew how much his work meant to him. She could never have married him if she hadn't known that. She admired this part of him, even when it broke her heart. And she knew how much this work meant to the world. How important it was.
She wondered what would have happened to her, if she had turned down her first modeling gig, or stopped doing it once she didn't need it to pay for her studies anymore. She wondered what would have happened if she had started working as an engineer, or gone into research. She couldn't imagine herself not being crushed by the pressure of it all.
Not that her job wasn't demanding. It asked for the best of her, always. But science didn't just demand that you do your best. It required that you be right. You could work for years and not succeed, and it wouldn't be your fault. But science would take no pity.
“But soon,” Hermann continued. “As soon as I can, Vanessa, I promise.”
“Okay.”
Another moment of silence.
“Tell me how it happened. I want to know how you saved the world.”
Hermann
Hermann leant back in his chair and looked at the bare metal walls of his Shatterdome room. This had been what he had called home for the last ten years.
What a miracle it was, that he had even survived.
Hearing Vanessa's voice, her curiosity and love, Hermann was truly hit by everything he had missed during all this time. He had been busy enough not to feel too homesick, but thinking of going home, to a real home that was personal, it made him ache with want now. He wanted to become a person again, not just a tool, not just a soldier.
He thought of Newton, then. Maybe this was something Hermann had previously refused to see in the man: that his exuberance and loudness was partly a defense mechanism to stay human, to stay himself. Newton didn't like rules. He needed freedom like he needed air. Hermann knew, now. He knew how much it had hurt, being told how to behave, how to dress, how to talk. Hermann knew, now, how much Newt had hated it, how much of himself he had sacrificed just because he was needed, just because he knew he was the best person for this job and this job needed to be done perfectly.
Now, though. Now they were free. And a reckless part of Hermann was telling him to run. That part might have been Newton, or it might have something Hermann would have liked to blame on Newton. There was no telling and, either way, Hermann thought it didn't really matter now. The person he was today would forever be altered by the thought processes and gestures he had acquired from his colleague during the drift. Purity of selfhood was a myth, and he had other things to put energy into than to keep it alive.
Like this newfound freedom.
Hermann wanted to run, to leave the Shatterdome behind, to leave the dead behind, to flee from all the memories. He wanted to see his wife again and pretend that they were still who they had been ten years ago, that their promises still rang with the same truth.
But he knew he couldn't. He knew he wouldn't forgive himself if he did. Hermann knew what the right thing to do was. He could rationalise his purpose. And that meant he had to stay a while longer.
“Hermann?” Vanessa asked, voice tinged with worry. “Are you okay?”
She had asked a question. Yes. Hermann didn't know where to begin.
“I just... a lot... A lot of things happened. I don't know how to tell you all of it.”
“It's okay. You don't have to. If you don't want to.”
But he did want to tell her. He wanted to tell her everything, and for her to understand him like he didn't seem to understand himself anymore.
“You must have learned the big lines of it through the news. A team of Jaeger was sent to drop a nuclear bomb into the Breach and collapse its structure. It was supposed to be a four-Jagers drop, but we lost Cherno Alpha and Crimson Typhoon during the first double event and...”
He told her about Gypsy Danger and Striker Eureka. About Hercules Hansen's broken arm, and how Marshal Pentecost had taken his place despite knowing it would cost him his life. He had to backtrack and tell her about Newton's first drift with the piece of kaiju brain. It was awful, re-living this moment in two perspective, his own fear for his colleagues mingling with the primal horror Newt had felt at the scale of his discovery. The feeling of his own body seizing, and Newton's in his arms. He told her as fast as he could, hiding his desperation, hiding his fear of being abandoned, of being left alone again.
Then he told her about Otachi's baby, the need for a second drift, but a safer one. The need for someone able to find and decode the data humanity needed to survive.
He told her, matter-of-factly, how he had agreed to drift with Newton. He didn't tell her how, really, he had been the one asking, begging him to stay alive. He didn't tell her about how surprised he had been at his own behavior. He had never thought he had that kind of courage, not really. He had enough courage to resist things. To stand his ground. Enough courage to face what his peers thought of him and not budge in his principles.
But he wasn't the kind of man who plunged into the unknown.
Except he had.
Part of his thoughts had been full of doubt. What if it doesn't work what if it kills him what if we're not compatible what if it makes things worse what if he sees things he shouldn't what if the world ends anyway what if-
The other part had only been cold certainty. Certainty that Newton would die if he drifted alone. Certainty that his plan would work, if only they had enough information. Certainty that the best person to recognize the right information was him. Certainty that they had to be Drift Compatible. Years of proximity had taught him that.
“What was it like?” Vanessa asked. “Drifting?”
Hermann didn't tell her that the first thing he had glimpsed in the mess of thoughts and emotions had been fear and heartache.
“Like being underwater,” he said instead. “Like being completely submerged under information and knowing that if you release your breath you'll drown. It's not just... You don't just hear thoughts or see memories. I was him. I was the kaiju. I had access to the entirety of a completely different existence as if it had always been my own. I was feeling what they'd been feeling, thinking what they'd been thinking. The kaiju...”
He had to stop to gather his thoughts. Looking into his memories of the drift was like staring into the sun. It was intense enough to be painful.
“They're connected between themselves. The whole species. We didn't just... we didn't just drift with one of them. We were all of them.”
For a second, Hermann was glad Vanessa wasn't in the room. His hand was shaking just thinking about it.
“One human consciousness is already a universe onto itself. It's vast and complex. Kaiju... they might not have dreams, like we do... But they know pain. They know fear. They know rage and hunger. Their lives are painful, and short. And I came to know many of them, all more horrific than the next, in just one instant. I've felt all their lives and their deaths.” He breathed, in and out. “And through them, the precursors.”
“The precursors?”
Of course, Vanessa wouldn't know about them. No one knew about them except him, Newton and Hercules Hansen, now that Marshall Pentecost was dead. Perhaps Raleigh Becket, if he had glimpsed enough of the Anteverse.
“Other... beings. From their world. I can't...” Hermann thought of eyes watching him, judging him, of pain across his body as he was sculpted to please this being, as a consciousness whispered to him and urged him to destroy destroy destroy. “I can't...”
“It's okay,” Vanessa whispered through the phone. Hermann breathed again. “You're okay.”
“We found the information we needed. In the drift. We found out why all of our previous attacks had failed. You need a key for the Breach to let you go down its throat. You need a kaiju's genetic code.”
“Wow. How did you do that?”
“Gypsy Danger and Striker Eureka were already engaged by the time we managed to let them know. Striker... Ranger Hansen and Marshal Pentecost sacrificed themselves. They detonated the nuclear bomb that had been meant for the Breach to eliminate the kaiju that had been protecting it. Gypsy Danger's core was nuclear so... Rangers Mori and Becket fought with the last surviving kaiju and dragged it through the Breach so they would be able to cross it as well. Then they detonated their core. They were the only rangers to survive.”
Grieve later, Vanessa had said. But even she seemed shaken.
“You wanted to know.” Hermann felt exhaustion settle into his bones, even though it was only midday.
“I want to go back to Berlin.”
The statement was so surprising in this context that he jolted a little. “What?”
“England is just... I'm glad I got to be with my family through all of this but... This country is too full of ghosts. I think I want to go back to Germany. But not... Only if you want to as well.”
“I hadn't... I hadn't thought about it. But we can try to find a new place while I'm still in Hong Kong. And if we don't... If we don't find anything I guess we could always stay with Karla for a little while.”
His sister Karla lived on the edge of the city, in a house she shared with her girlfriend and another couple. Hermann got on very well with her, and would love to see her again, but he also knew that visiting her meant she would push him to see the rest of their family. Whatever Karla said, and however much Hermann wanted to see his mother again, talking with his father was out of the question. Not when the man had abandoned the Jaeger Programm to support the Wall of Life project. Not when he had followed money on a path that had almost lead to the planet's extinction, and then hadn't even had the decency to apologize for it.
Still, he missed his mother and his siblings. He missed the loudness of family dinners when Dietrich's kids would play with Bastien's daughter. If they were in Berlin, maybe he could arrange something. Meet with them outside of the family house, without his father's knowledge. It wouldn't be so bad.
“I'll start looking,” Vanessa said, knowing all too well how complicated his family situation was. “I'll send you what I find.”
“I love you, Vanessa.”
She laughed at that, maybe startled at the suddenness of it. Hermann usually wasn't one for big declarations.
“I love you too.”
They hung up soon after. Hermann noticed he had unconsciously started drumming his fingers against his desk and forced himself to stop.
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