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cipheress-to-k-pop · 27 days

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the little princess (g.l.)

Pairing: Garfield Logan x Tamaranean!Fem!Reader

Warnings: None i think

Word Count: 3.1k

Summary: If the Titans had a nickel for every time one of Kori's sister's, that she apparently had a very bad relationship with, landed on Earth, they'd have two nickels. Which isn't much but it's weird that it happened twice.

A/N: This is just a little ode to the Starfire that was in the OG Teen Titans show because I just love her so much. She's just a little cutie patootie and I loved all of her quirks and antics. I wanted to make the oneshot a little longer and end with both Gar and her getting together but I realized that it would've been far too long and I didn't want to write all that in the same one-shot.

It was in Dick's poor judgment to listen to the police radio while they were taking the cross-country road trip while getting back to San Francisco. Well, if we're debating Dick's poor judgment, he really should have taken the jet but not like the team could do anything about it now.

They were in Nevada, near Las Vegas when the chatter on the radio went wild. He spared a glance at Starfire, wondering if they should respond but she shook her head. So far, all alerts on the police radio had been insignificant things like disruption of business or public intoxication. Nothing that required their intervention.

So, Dick didn't bother to turn his indicator on for the exit from the highway. That was until they heard something cut through the static, clear as day, "Attention all units, need immediate backup! There's some sort of human flame thrower here! Like that superhero chick!"

They shared a glance and Dick swerved off the road and into the exit, nearly hitting another car in his hurry.

It took longer than it should have to get there, considering Starfire was driving while Dick changed into his Nightwing suit in the bathroom. To say that LVMPD were surprised when an RV rolled up with five superheroes inside was an understatement.

They directed them to the building, the perimeter heavily guarded by multiple officers, all armed.

Once they entered the building, everyone froze, noting how the girl on fire in the middle of the room looked much like the one standing beside them. Her hair was glowing and floating along with her body as she clenched her molten fists.

This never would have happened if they just took the jet.

Before any of them could even come up with a game plan, their target noticed just who was standing there and stopped. When the flames and the nearly blinding glow had subsided, they noticed all that was remaining was a young girl.

"Kori?" She asked curiously, wondering if that was really Starfire or just someone who looked exactly like her. After all, it was a new planet, she didn't know much about the inhabitants here.

"(Y/N)?" Kori breathed out, equal parts shocked and relieved.

The girl's face crumpled, and she broke out into sobs before flying right into her arms, "Kori!"

It was kind of amusing to see Kori attempt to hug you back, considering that you were floating off the ground but once you were consoled, she let you go, and you remained floating a couple feet off the floor at her side.

Kori gestured to the rest of them, and you bashfully hid behind her, scared of the newcomers. Ever since you landed on this planet, they had been nothing but cruel to you. All you had done was use your powers to reheat the tea you were served and suddenly there were men who had pointed weapons at you.

You looked at Nightwing's escrima sticks apprehensively before tucking yourself further behind her back. She spared you a glance before turning to her teammates with a tolerating smile.

"Guys, meet my sister."

"Another sister? Is she gonna try and kill us too?"

"You know Komander?" You asked curiously, floating a bit higher so that your head peeked over Kori's.

"Vaguely." Conner answered and you tilted your head, watching him with a deliberating pout. He seemed a little uncomfortable by your piercing stare, so you averted your gaze before whispering in your sister's ear.

"Are they holding you hostage?"

She chuckled and shook her head before introducing all of them to you by name. You listened attentively, noticing how neither of them bothered to give you smiles aside from the youngest girl and boy named Rachel and Gar.

They had pretty hair. You liked them already.

***

"Another sister you didn't tell us about?" Dick pressed, leaning over the centre console and Kori sighed, running a hand down her face. You were floating in the back of the RV, listening intently to Tim's conspiracies about aliens and attempting to explain your history and more to him.

"I didn't think I had to. I never thought we'd actually have to run into her." She explained and he gave her a hard gaze.

"Yes, but a little heads up would have been nice."

"Well, I didn't know she was going to be here, now did I?!" She snapped and the RV was immediately silenced. She sighed and turned to give the rest of you a reassuring smile and you reluctantly went back to your conversations.

When she was sure they weren't listening, she turned back to Dick, "She's the youngest. After Komander was born without powers, the public and nobles pressed for my parents to have another child. She was born with powers and also the first one in like 5 generations to be born with the power of flight. She's considered a gem in the public eye. She can do no wrong. And she's too young to assume the throne so she's never pressured like Komander, and I were. I'm surprised they even let her off the planet."

Dick cast an uncertain eye on the woman beside him. It was obvious that she had some unresolved issues with you, although he couldn't exactly put his finger on why. From what he gathered, you were pretty delightful and made a cute first impression, unlike the time he met Jason.

"What's this?" You asked loudly, pointing to a hole in their table.

"Um, it's a sink." Gar answered, flustered that you didn't know about its existence, "It's where we wash our hands and dishes and things."

Your face scrunched up, "Well that sounds unhygienic. Can't you just acquire new ones?"

Kori rolled her eyes.

"What are you doing here, (Y/N)?" She asked, finally acknowledging you now that she had wrapped her head around it.

Your brows furrowed at her tone as you flew closer to her, "Maybe I'm assuming but are you perhaps angry with me?"

She scoffed. Of course, you didn't even know when you upset someone. People back home usually jump through hoops for you, so it was no wonder that you had absolutely no idea of other people's feelings or thought that you could do any wrong.

"Yes! What the hell are you doing here?! You can't just come to a planet like Earth and then go around causing trouble!"

"Excuse me?" You asked cautiously, trying to reason with her. You had come here to find your older sister because you thought she would know what to do. The more you spoke with her, the less she seemed like the rightful ruler and more like Komander, "What was I meant to do, Kori'Ander? Our parents were murdered, the crown princess disappeared. People began looking toward me for an answer. What was I meant to tell them?"

She scoffed once again and you were starting to get very irritated by the sound, "Of course, couldn't even run a kingdom for a while."

This struck the wrong chord. You were never quite close with your older sisters; they both considered you the runt of the family and frequently made comments about how you were too young to join them on their excursions. Kori would seem like the doting older sister to the public, but you never really connected.

And Komander hated you since birth.

It was undeniable that your parents treasured you. I mean, how could they not when you constantly strived for their attention. You didn't have any friends growing up and your sisters scorned you when you did nothing wrong, so you depended on your parents for intimacy and connection.

It wasn't rare for you to be floating around the throne room, giggling when your father teased you by attempting to catch you, even though you were way out of his reach.

The people treasured you as well, you realized that very early, when you were first introduced to them as a young girl. You had been hiding behind your mother's gown, intimidated by the sheer amount of people and held her skirt in a tight fist.

You remember your parents cooing at you as they slowly revealed you to the rest of them and then the deafening sound of the crowd cheering. Your parents watched with pride as you began flying to try and see just how many people were there and they cheered louder.

You were adored.

And even though you did want to spend time with your sisters and play with them, you were eventually steered away from them by your parents after you had returned to their room in tears and inconsolable when your sisters had slammed their door in your face when you had just asked to play.

"I'm not the one meant to be running the kingdom, Kori. You are the crown princess. It was your duty to be take over the throne or officially abdicate it. Not mine." You explained, not quite understanding why she was being so negative. This had been her birth right and her path, way before you were even born.

You didn't realize it when you were younger but as you came of age, you understood that your role in the royal family wasn't one of politics or even running the kingdom. You were nothing more than a symbol to the people. Of purity, peace, and hope.

That had been made clear, so why was she suddenly expecting you to take over?

Everyone stared out the window, trying extremely hard to blend into the surroundings. While all of them respected Kori a lot, they all knew that she was impulsive and often said things without thinking them through. While Kori was excellent at giving advice, she herself was awful at controlling her emotions and lashed out often.

Tim began making prayers that they would make it through without something catching on fire.

"I realize that (Y/N)! But you're still the princess in our absence! You should have done something instead of running away and make someone solve your problems for you!"

You gasped, "My problems?! The kingdom that you're the ruler of is my problem? I'm the one who's running away? You're the one who ran so far that you went to a completely different planet! You—You zarbnarf!"

Kori froze, watching as your eyes glassed over with furious tears. Immediately, she regretted speaking to you that way, feeling panic build in her system. It was probably because growing up, she had learnt to grow terrified whenever you began crying around her.

Because you were the golden child. The fragile flower among molten rocks and you were treasured by your parents beyond anything. If either Kori or Komander had made you cry, they usually faced a punishment. That was something that you took advantage of, as an immature, mischievous child. When had you grown up so much?

She wanted to apologize, take it back but her pride was swelling so big in her chest that it clogged her throat. She was still angry and humiliated and all the things she felt as a child began coming back to her.

How could she be so immature? She had no idea what happened on Tamaran, and she had been foolish to think it was still the place she considered home. But it was inevitable for the people to ask about their ruler. She had been running away from the thought for too long.

She had completely forgotten that you were left behind in the chaos.

"You abandoned our family! Our people! And for what? A servant’s quarters on wheels?" You spat, turning away from her. She expected you to throw open the door and fly out but instead you stomped over to the seat beside Gar, not noticing the way he began scrambling to wiggly himself out of the booth and away from you.

He was too slow, and you ended up plopping down onto the seat beside him and he stared apprehensively at you from the corner of his eye.

Kori scoffed, "Why don't you just leave?!"

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms, "I'm done with this conversation but not with you. If your first response to confrontation is to run away, then I can see why you weren't gifted with the power of flight in the first place."

She swelled, puffing out her chest, "You know what—?!"

When Kori realized that you weren't in the mood to talk anymore, she returned to her seat even though she wanted to keep yelling at you. Why did you get to decide when the argument was over? You both weren't on Tamaran anymore and your parents weren't around anymore to scold her for picking a fight with someone so much younger but still, she fumed silently in her seat.

You turned to Gar with an apologetic pout, "I apologize for calling this a servant's quarters. You have a lovely home."

He chuckled at your guilty face, "Yeah, this isn't where we live, we're just using it to get back home."

You gave him a smile, "So you're not feeling hard with me?"

He blushed furiously, ignoring Conner as he laughed quietly into his hand, "Yeah, no hard feelings here."

***

Since you were an "unwelcome" guest in Kori's eyes, you were confined to the couch when you reached the tower. She was expecting you to throw a fit or whine about having to sleep like a servant, but you didn't mind, didn't complain, didn't say anything as you sat silently on the couch.

They didn't know what caused the sudden damp in your mood, you had been smiling the entire trip back, asking questions and making conversation but it was like everything vanished the second you entered their home.

Gar came out of his room in the middle of the night for a snack when he saw you sitting up on the couch, knees pulled to your chest. He thought he would just grab whatever he needed and leave quickly but he heard you sniffle.

"You okay?"

You looked up at him startled, and quickly wiped away your tears before plastering a fake smile on your face, "I am fine. Thank you for asking."

He should have just nodded, giving you an awkward smile before retreating back to his bedroom but he seemed unable to get the apathetic words out at the site of you hiding your faltering smile behind your pink hair.

Superman had kryptonite. He had pretty girls.

"Would you like some ice cream?"

Your brows furrowed in confusion, "Iced screams? What is that?"

He chuckled, finding the way your nose scrunched up absolutely adorable, "Not 'iced screams'. Ice cream."

"Like cold milk?"

"Cold, sweet, hard milk."

You looked mildly repulsed, "I shall decline. Thank you for the offer."

He just breathed out a laugh, sitting next to you with a bowl of cookie dough and two spoons, "Just try it."

You kept giving him cautious glances all while lifting the spoon of the sugary treat to your mouth, watching as he nodded encouragingly and tentatively took a tiny taste (wow alliteration).

Gar had the absolute pleasure of watching your face scrunch up immediately, not expecting it to be that cold but it slowly faded into a small smile at the flavour.

When you had taken another spoon, he glanced at you and noticed your swollen eyes and red nose, "Is everything okay?"

You gave him a small smile and nodded, "I am merely just sick of your home."

He froze in disbelief before reminding himself that you were a literal princess. You were probably very used to luxury and had a literal castle to yourself.

And you're Komander's sister. That part explains a lot.

He shook the thoughts from his head before smiling politely and taking a spoon of ice cream himself when he didn't know how to respond. Luckily, he didn't have to because you continued.

"I know I have been here only a short time, but I miss Tamaran deeply."

The tension in his spine melted away and he slouched with a sigh of relief, "Oh, you're homesick."

You gave him a refined smile, "Yes, I just mentioned about the home-sickness."

"It's not exactly--nevermind."

There was a moment of silence while you quietly ate a couple more spoonfuls of ice cream before Gar spoke again, "No offense but if you miss it so much, why don't you just go back?"

You bit your lip, "My planet is in political instability. I'm unfit to take the throne. So, I vowed to bring the true heir back home."

His brows furrowed, "Why are you unfit to take the throne? You seem smart and powerful."

His compliment had heat raising to your cheeks and you felt a small smile grow on your face before it was dampened by the heavy topic and you sighed, resting your head against the back of the couch.

"My people wish that I take the throne because they see me as a beacon of hope but that is the very reason I am unable. My gift of flight has made me different from the rest of the Tamaraneans, so in a political sense, I have become a figurehead for nobility, equality and neutrality."

He nodded even though he wasn't quite understanding where this was headed.

"Because of this I have been trusted to be a mediator between my planet and others. I am but a symbol of peace. The rulers of other planets trust me because I am not part of the political party on Tamaran. I have never even made my debut into noble society. If I take my place as the ruler, those alliances could fall apart. The common people couldn't possibly understand that."

"So, you're supposed to be this unbiased figurehead but if you acquire any actual power, you think your alliances with other planets will fall apart?" He summarized, wanting to make sure that he actually understood, and you nodded.

"Well, why don't you just tell Kori that? I'm sure she'd understand."

Your eyes drifted to your feet that were folded up onto the sofa, "I was going to, but I lost my temper when she accused me of not taking initiative. She never acknowledged the work I did for my people. I suppose I got defensive."

He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, giving you a comforting squeeze, "It's alright. Second time's the charm."

Your face scrunched up in confusion and he laughed quietly, "I mean, you should try again tomorrow. Maybe it'll go better this time."

"Ah."

"Hey (Y/N)?"

"Yes, Garfield?"

He offered you a small smile, "If it makes any difference, I really do believe that you did the right thing."

You felt the corners of your mouth tug up, "Thank you, Garfield."

***

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

@haniscrying

@superheroesaremyjam113263

@writers-whirlwind

DC Taglist:

@emmacata

@p--e--a--c--h--e--s

@sometimeseverythingsucks

@sokkas-honour

@unstable1902

@lostgirlheart

@missdisapear

@tadpole-san

@isawachickeninatree

@uxavity

@battlenix

@capricorn-stark

@evermoore580

@dumbbitchgalore

@fuckingjinkies

@some-lovely-day

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ghostly-groves · 6 months

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me and my friends are always locked in debate about this one, so:

rb for a larger sample size!

#dsmp #dream smp #polls #dsmp poll #lmanberg #lmanburg #pogtopia #manberg vs pogtopia #exile arc #dsmp disc saga #pandoras vault #eggpire #las nevadas #hitting on 16 #mcyt #my posts #the worst of scar

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thebreakfastgenie · 2 years

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"This is the new November 5th" "This is just like November 5th" No. There will never be another November 5th.

Do you even remember what late 2020 was like? It was before the COVID vaccine. We were still at the stage of the pandemic where it wasn't really safe for anyone to go anywhere. The Republican Party was acting like it wasn't happening and if it was, it wasn't a big deal. The month before, Amy Coney Barrett got COVID at her super-spreader confirmation party in the Rose Garden after Mitch McConnell reversed everything he said about election year appointments in 2016. Also in October, one of the presidential debates was cancelled because Trump had COVID. He was hospitalized and we all spent a couple of days waiting to see if he was going to die of the virus he told Americans not to worry about. Democrats encouraged their voters to vote by mail in order to be safe during the pandemic, so Republicans sabotaged the postal system in the middle of a pandemic. Mail was taking weeks to arrive. Election Day came and we all held our collective breath and waited for them to count the vote. Election Day went and we still didn't know. I was trying so hard to make myself do literally anything else but all I could do was sit in the couch and refresh electoral maps and stare at Nevada. Sometimes I clicked over to Arizona instead.

And then in the middle of that, destiel. It was such a welcome and desperately needed distraction. It was so completely insane and unexpected. There were perhaps no ships with the same level of history. There will never be anything like it ever again.

#i probably missed at least three things that happened in fall of 2020 #because that's just what literally every day in the trump administration was LIKE

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laidback-thrills · 6 months

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EDIT: THIS IS SLIGHTLY OUTDATED. More coming soon.

Hello all!

I've been meaning to talk more in depth about this!!! I put a "read more" bc this is a little long and I don't wanna clog up the tag.

BUT

DSAF CULT AU!!!

My DSAF Cult AU is very canon divergent.

Dave Miller is a fledgeling demon who was once a young nephilim. He remembers very little about his past, but something horrible has made him what he is now.

He has a full, actual Enochian name, but people tend to throw up and shit and die when they hear it, so he chose to go by "Dave" because "It's common! I'm a normal, common guy!", but also because he trusted and loved someone like a father.

His demonic sigil and general telltale symbol is the extremely long sacrificial dagger driven into his skull. No matter what form he takes, he will have it. It can be taken out for a short period of time before Dave begins to have trouble staying corporeal.

Now literally borne with a total inability to feel remorse for his actions, he is a sick and twisted monster that does not know how to control his own extremely horrifying powers. He requires a conduit to channel them, lest he explode.

He was all alone in the world. A freak, even when "disguised" as a human. (He's purple for fuck's sake, he smells like rot and he's scaring people!). Connection eluded him, although it was all he ever wanted, even as a horrifyingly malicious entity. It's very much a similar situation to regular DSAF - he was "abandoned", and now forever seeks

Until some idiot.

Jack Kennedy was a desperate man with a missing family and no future. He was addicted to every kind of substance, heavily in debt, and crushingly isolated.

After uncovering some interesting literature from his shitty Fazbender's Pepperonerie job, he decided that he was desperate enough to follow the instructions in the grimoire. Nothing to lose anymore, and a big goal to achieve. A skeptic as he was, he did not expect the ritual to work, but when it did, it completely changed his world.

Jack did not immediately make a contract with Dave, out of pure shock and wariness, but the fucker stuck around anyway. He was offered a deal and spent a while debating it.

Eventually, it went through.

Jack was granted a demonic boon. Power, money, pleasures of the world, and a chance to put them back together. In return, he traded his body and soul for Dave's services.

The process was painful.

An agonizing death, and a transformation. Dave's sigil burned into his back, and all at once, he was rotten and orange.

Then, the demon ate his soul.

Dave benefits greatly from the exchange too (baby's first contract). He gets a lot of power from it. It keeps him anchored. Gives him something to do. Someone interesting to play with. Company at last, and it's someone that can't run away from him!

Jack is Dave's saint. They are intrinsically bound. Jack is the first person to ever form a contract with Dave— Blackjack is caged inside of Dave, alive and warm, providing him with abilities and power he didn't have before. The Black Dog is loyal to its original master, however, and attempts to return to him. As a result, the soul more or less keeps them tethered. They physically cannot stray too far from eachother.

Post-contract, now armed with the knowledge that more souls = more power, and wanting to actually put a use to their power, they get to work!

With supernatural persuasion and a great gambling streak, Jack gets his start in Nevada. There, they build their empire off of the backs of desperate gamblers who put their soul on the line. Hungry, lonely men, hookers, the desperate and the naïve...all are errant souls that Father Jack will lead right on home.

Dave requires fresh blood for any spell, but demands child sacrifices to perform large spells, but that is quite alright. With the influx of followers, children are not too hard to come by. The death of a toddler, and an unholy miracle is performed— Jack's precious little flock has a home, a commune tucked into the desert.

(It isn't DSAF without a little toddler stranglin'!)

Jack and Dave- they get them good. Victims, converts- they're promised security, "God is dead, but we've got the power to help you!" Father Jack's a friendly and convincing fella, it seems, and after all...his Gospel is very legitimate- why have just faith when you can see your new God? When that doesn't work, there's always fear. Don't believe his word? Why, they'll show you horrors of which you've never seen! Father Kennedy's fun loving, but he's a soulless bastard, and he's not shy about putting the fear of all things unholy into his flock.

Of course, once the sinners are deep enough, it's too late to escape. Father Kennedy has some dirt on them. This lovely community is built on violence, after all, and Father knows exactly what they did to get here, and exactly what they've said at confessional. That, and...who does not fear the erratic demon?

At the commune, the "church" is hidden away in the labyrinthine basement of an invaded Freddy's location. (The management seems...more than willing...) The Pepperonerie is a front, concealing profits and deaths from the government. The Priest and the Demon wash their money, wash their hands, and serve unsuspecting guests pizza with a healthy dollop of propaganda.

When they aren't terrorizing their followers, however, Dave and Jack spend their time together. It is with mixed enjoyment. They find new purpose in each other. Commit horrible atrocities and live it up in V E G A S, baby! They're...gasp...starting to crush on each other? They're also sexily trying to kill each other just a little bit.

"I hate this purple motherfucker...but I want to kiss him on his hot mouth..."

Important note shoehorned in—

Jack does not worship Dave traditionally, the way the other followers do. He does not fear him at all. He recognizes Dave for what he is- a lonely, desperate fool. As far as they go, the demon is on his leash, not the other way around. He only prays when he needs something, in the very beginning. As their relationship advances however, and they commit atrocities that would make mankind pale, Jack becomes a very religious man. Not because he is afraid or respects him as any kind of authority (he does not respect him period), but because he is Really Gay. The way he prays is devout and hungry. Only in prayer can Jack manage to say what he means.

Actually, Dave ends up more worshipping *Jack* more than Jack worships him. It's turned on its head. Dave is sooo down bad and in love, he'll do anything. Anything at all for his priest, his clementine. His obsession is very much comparable to canon. He haunts Jack and everything that he does. Jack is never alone, never truly, because a dark looming purple shadow will always follow him. He steals his things and vies for his attention at all times of the day, because he is so wrapped around Jack's orange finger it's stupid...

"Jump." "How high?!"

Peace, quiet and privacy is an extinct concept to Jack, unfortunately.

TLDR; They're horrible to eachother but are in love and their hands are drenched in the blood of children (as usual) but now it has a gay worshipping undertone.

This is not everything, of course. Next time I talk, i'll delve more into the serious and rather toxic side of their relationship but this is just some stuff i've managed to crank out! Sorry if it's all over the place! I have one billion thoughts. Feel free to ask any questions, too, I'll do my best to answer. There will be more soon.

#my stuff #dsaf #davesport #dayshift at freddy's #dsaf cult au

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usafphantom2 · 3 months

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F-14 flying alongside SR-71 during refueling (Image via Haburats SR-71 on X/Twitter)

The F-15 wasn’t the only top-tier fighter in the U.S. arsenal at the time, and the truth is, the Navy’s famed F-14 Tomcat of Top Gun fame was actually better equipped for these sorts of high-speed intercepts.

While the Eagle’s AN/APG-63 was a highly capable radar, it fell well short of the massive power output and multi-targeting capability of the Tomcat’s AN/AWG-9 radar and fire control system. With around double the detection range of the Eagle’s radar and the ability to track 24 targets simultaneously, the F-14 could guide six separate missiles into six separate targets at the same time. Despite being based on a fairly dated design, there wouldn’t be a more powerful radar installed in a fighter until the F-22 Raptor entered service.

But perhaps even more important was the Tomcat’s armament, because the F-14 came equipped with the now-legendary AIM-54 Phoenix missile – the longest-ranged air-to-air missile on the planet at the time that flew with a combination of a semi-active seeker to take cues from the F-14’s radar and an active radar-homing seeker for terminal guidance. In other words, once the Phoenix was close enough to a target, it could rely on its own onboard radar to close in, rather than needing the launching pilot to maintain a lock until impact.

Training intercepts that pitted the F-14 against the SR-71 were known by insiders as Tomcat Chase sorties, and were usually carried out over the Pacific, rather than the Nevada desert, thanks to the presence of F-14-hauling aircraft carriers at sea. As with the F-15, Habu drivers did their best to give the F-14 a fighting chance, flying along straight, predetermined flight paths at lower altitudes and speeds than they would normally do. They also maintained open radio communications, allowing the SR-71 pilots to guide the F-14s into their relative positions so they’d have a chance to fire their notional AIM-54s.

The Blackbird flew with its transponder on, and again, without its defensive electronic countermeasures engaged. But, again, even in these very favorable conditions, Tomcats struggled to find their mark.

“The 14s could find us but they couldn’t do anything until we modified and gave them times, route of flight, speed, and altitude beforehand so they could have a pre-planned setup,” Pilot Dave Peters recalled. “The 15s didn’t do that well for quite some time.” Tough as it was to spot the Blackbird zooming past, once the Tomcats did, the Phoenix missile was capable enough to pose some real problems for the Blackbird. With a top speed in excess of Mach 4 (except when put into a ballistic flight path into the ground, where it could exceed Mach 5), the AIM-54 had the speed and the range required to close with an airborne Habu, and thanks to its onboard radar seeker, it would be tougher to shake than the Eagle’s Sparrows.

However, there remains some debate about whether or not even the Phoenix could have found its mark in the Blackbird’s high-altitude domain.

“Another factor in our favor was the small guidance fins on their missiles,” Graham wrote. “They are optimized in size for guiding a missile to its target in the thicker air from the ground up and around forty thousand feet. At eighty thousand feet the air is so thin that full deflection of the missile’s guidance fins can barely turn it.”

Sandbox News.

@Habubrats71 via X

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saul-goodboy · 5 months

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settling a debate

#i vote atlanta because it makes sense

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call-me-apple · 1 year

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I remember when people were having the debates about made-up dsmp citizens, I thought that if any country was justified in having an imagined invisible populace it'd be Las Nevadas considering it's existence doesn't really make sense otherwise. And then LN5 came about and said "nah, that place empty af". L

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concretenoah · 7 months

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settle this debate between me and @deathblacksmoke

#pls help us bc she’s giving me a geography lesson in voice mems

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nostalgicamerica · 8 months

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This fact-checked from Snopes. There are other sources also on the subject;

U.S. President Joe Biden pooped his pants during a meeting with Pope Francis in Rome.

False

This rating indicates that the primary elements of a claim are demonstrably false. At the end of October 2021, as U.S. President Joe Biden met with Pope Francis during the G20 summit, hashtags such as #poopypantsbiden and #poopgate started circulating on social media, along memes based on the unsubstantiated claim that the commander in chief had a "bathroom accident" during his trip:

There's no evidence that this claim and the social media trend that sprang from it were based on anything other than idle gossip.

This claim wasn't derived from photos or videos of Biden, or any credible news reports. This rumor appears to have been started (or at least popularized) by former Nevada Republican Party Chairwoman and frequent Newsmax guest Amy Tarkanian,

"The word around Rome is that Biden's meeting with the Pope was unusually long because Biden had a bit of an 'bathroom accident' at the Vatican & it had to be addressed prior to him leaving. I know we joke often about this, but this is the actual rumor going around Rome now."

An "actual rumor" is not a fact.

Biden, of course, is not the only president to have unflattering and untrue rumors spread about his bodily functions on social media. Social media users previously claimed that former President Donald Trump had pooped his pants on the golf course (this rumor was based on a fake photo), that he had peed his pants before or during a public appearance in Tennessee (real photo, misinterpreted), and that he had once worn his pants backwards (this claim was based on some seemingly ill-fitted pants).

As to Joe eating his boogers; I'm sure just like the other claims, they are made up. That's depending on your hatred of him at the moment and the boredom you've experienced because you can't fact check several sources.

NOTE: This is the last anonymous 'ask' of this sort I'm going to answer. Either come out of the shadows like a man (or woman) or shut your cake hole.

I trust Snopes almost as much as I trust a politician moonlighting as a used car salesman.

If you can look back at Biden's track record as a public 'servant' and honestly say he is a good man, there is no point in debating with you because you're delusional. In every aspect of his professional and personal life the man has demonstrated he has the morals of a sewer rat.

Let's consult Ashley's diary, shall we.

He is vermin through and through.

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pleistocene-pride · 7 months

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Teratornis is a now extinct genus of large bird of prey which lived throughout North and Central America as well as the Caribbean and possibly South America from the early Pleistocene to the early Holocene approximately 2.5 million to 8,000 years ago. The first scientifically known Teratornis remains were recovered from the la brea tar pits in 1909 by Loye Holmes Miller who named the animal Teratornis from the Greek teretos meaning "wonder" and ornis meaning "bird". Since then a large number of fossil and subfossil remains, representing more than 100 individuals, have been found in locations in California, Oregon, southern Nevada, Arizona, Cuba, and Florida. Today there are 2 valid species being Teratornis merriami and Teratornis woodburnensis and a third species Teratornis olsoni being possibly its own genus Oscaravis although this is up for debate. Reaching around 2 ½ - 3 ½ft (.75 -1m) tall, 25-50lbs (11 -23kg) in weight, with an 11-15ft (3.35 -4.67m) wingspan, teratornis ranks amongst the largest birds ever to fly being over a third larger than even the biggest extant condors. It shared many similarities to modern condors particularly in there wings which were well adapted for soaring. Teratorns short, stouter legs and more flexible pelvic girdle indicate they were well suited for walking about on land as well as jumping. Teratornis also possessed a long hooked beak and flexible wide opening jaws, indicating that in addition to scavenging on the carcasses of large megafauna these mammoth birds likely hunted some live prey such as reptiles, amphibians, fish, small mammals, and other birds, which they would have swallowed whole.

Art used belongs to the following creators

Teratornis: Peter Schouten

Teratornis: Mark Witton http://markwitton-com.blogspot.com/2019/08/we-need-to-talk-about-teratorns.html

Teratornis: Notiomastodon https://www.sci.news/paleontology/argentina-teratorns-10036.html

La Brea: Beth Zaiken https://bethzaiken.com/ice-age-fossils-state-park-sunset-scavengers

#pleistocene #pleistocene pride #pliestocene pride #pliestocene #ice age #bird #cenozoic #teratorn #teratornis #vulture #vulture culture #la brea #mastodon #smilodon #wolf #ice age week #ice age europe week

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canarycolemine · 8 months

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Death and the Promises He Made

Chapter 4: Stay with Me

Pairing: Papa Emeritus II x Original Female Character

Warnings: 18+, references to abuse (emotion, sexual), anxiety attacks

The ease one feels after making so permanent a decision. Like an exhale, natural. That’s how I felt, suspended in time.

Perhaps a few minutes passed after he made his promise, or it could have been a lifetime. We sat.

In those suspended moments, a brief vision came to mind - rapeseed fields, blooming in spring - the beauty of the changing seasons. The desert never changed - bareness, unforgiving and fixed, in blinding heat of summer and brief reprieve of winter. Landscape - untouched by Earth’s eternal cycle. It felt sweet, almost, to think about how I will watch the flowers bloom and wither and die. And to be so assured that they will come back as winter ends. That will be my life with this man. So much unsettled, but the expectation of impermanence was comforting.

As I sat in the dream, Secondo stood - I hardly noticed it. He shifted throughout the room, settling on something on the bed. His back turned to me, he spoke.

“My apologies, Eden. I do not have much more to offer.”

Back to reality. He was opening a suitcase, shuffling through his garments.

“Would you like to take a look?” He asked, turning to me.

I stood, curious by the question, and approached him. His garments were impeccably stored, neatly folded. He handed a garment to me, a pair of sweatpants.

“These, I like, they are very comfortable. The inside, see here, is so soft. Hotel rooms get so cold, you know.” I took the item from him, he continued. “I have a few shirts, too, not just button up shirts - that’s not, eh, the most relaxing shirt to wear. Look through them, pick the one you’d like.”

“Do you want me to change?”

“That dress is covered in evil. I want you to rest well tonight, you cannot rest well with it on.”

I smiled softly at his remark. The dress was covered in evil - my skin recoils in the cheap white material. How perverse, really, it all was.

I paused, abusing the skin around my fingernails.

“He, um Eddie, told me to wear it. He said it would make me look like a virgin, like pure. Those fuckers get off to that shit.” I don’t know why I told him that, but that was the evil it was covered in. The perverse thoughts and stares just as woven into the dress as the Nevada desert dust.

“You have been through too much.” He reflected.

I nodded. Nothing left to say.

He moved away from the suitcase, behind me, to the bathroom I hadn’t even examined yet.

“Would you like to take a shower?”

“I would.” Turning to him, a whisper of a smile on my face.

The bathroom was just as opulent as his tastes demanded - white marble covering every visible surface, it seemed. Only broken by the crisp clean walls of white and brilliant ruby of the shower curtain, revealing the largest shower I had ever seen.

“Nice, yes?” He chuckled at me, evidentially noticing before me how slack my jaw had gone at the sight of the room.

“I’ll leave these here for you, once you’re finished. Take as long as you need to, a good shower is good for the soul.” Placing the sweatpants and a shirt I hadn’t noticed he picked out for me onto the countertops. “There is some soap and shampoo around here, somewhere. I haven’t needed it, you see.”

I felt the ease again, letting slip the terrible memories.

How playful he could be.

“Thank you. I really appreciate it.” A warmth grew in my body, relaxation. I trusted him.

“You are welcome, Eden.” His hand reached out towards mine, how he dwarfed mine by comparison. But so, so steady he held as he brought his lips to the back of my hand. “I will leave you now.”

And so he did, he let the door close softly behind him. Hearing the latch click, I debated locking the door. But I didn’t. I undressed, gazing at myself in the large, gold rimmed mirror of the room.

This body, how she had carried me through all of this wickedness. I looked so frail, emaciated. I could count each rib, turning to my back to graze over the vertebrae of my back. And the pallor of my skin - the deep blue veins webbing just under my skin, so visible. How I had lived in so hot a place and managed to avoid all the kindness of the sun.

I could slip into the fantasy so quickly - of how my skin would look, filled out and well fed. The pads beneath my eyes crinkling with age, not by lack of water. Feeling the sun on my skin again, I would see my freckles again. I would be rich with color again. Once I leave with Secondo, I go home. I get taken care of. No longer would I look like this ghost.

Mindlessly caught in the fantasy, I showered and sweetly savored the warmth of the water. The water pressure was nothing like the trailer I’d never return to. The rich jasmine shampoo lathering and rinsing the past away.

What a diligent shower, baptismal even. I cleaned myself from the filth of the past.

Half of my heart told me to stay in the shower forever, at perfect peace. I felt almost a whisper of anxiety leaving the shower, drying myself, worried for the rest of the night - what next? Would he make me kiss him? Repay the debt in some way?

I should give in to the kindness of this stranger. Hope for the best, as optimistic he’s made me.

I exited the room, my hair wrapped in a towel to dry. Unassuming as possible, as casual I could manage, my eyes scanned the room - like prey, always waiting to be struck.

But he wasn’t there to pounce. The skull faced man sat up, legs extended on the bed. A few buttons undone, the details of his delicate paint starting to fail. Around his eyes, just underneath, as if he shed a silent tear.

Apparently, my wonder showed clearly on my face.

“Do I have something on my face?” He nearly shocked me into reality.

“Oh! No, sir, sorry. It just looked like, your makeup.” I gestures subtly to my face.

“What about it?” He asked, too cold for my sensitivity. “What’s wrong with my face?” His glare remained.

I could feel blood rush to my face. Fear. The familiar lump in my throat, choking on the words. My body told me danger.

I stumbled through any words, whispers of tears in my eyes.

“Oh no, Eden, I am sorry.” Secondo stood, sensing my reaction.

But the blood in my ears told me to freeze. My heart raced, time stilled.

His strong arms wrapped around me, the most contact we’ve had. In the haze of frozen adrenaline, my body was shifted back onto the bed, but still wrapped in his arms. I was rocked, so gently. His voice came to me.

“It’s alright. Hush, now.” I was crying, and I have no memory of starting. “I should have been more careful speaking to you.”

My mind was returning to now, registering safety in his arms. My body still reeling.

“I’m sorry.” I whispered.

His hand, no longer leather clad, was brought to my chin, gently guiding my gaze to his.

“Darling Eden. You do not to be needing to apologize. So many men have been so careless with you. So selfish to your mind. And your body cannot forget.”

I closed my eyes, for a moment, clasping my hands close to my chest. A silent prayer that he is a man of his word.

A small sensation on my arm, immediately opening my eyes to my body. A tear had fallen onto my arm, not my own. My eyes followed the path it took, and it took me to Secondo's eyes. His jaw was locked, a tear falling silently on his face, muddying the pristine lines further.

The comfort I paid back to him, my hands met his face, my thumbs gently wiping the blackened tears from his face.

His head leaned into my hand, a comfort.

We sat silently, gazing at the other. Contented in our shared brokenness.

“Who are you, Secondo?”

“What?”

“C’mon, I gave you my shitty life story.” I fiddled with the button of his shirt. “You're a satanic priest, you love broken people, and you have expensive taste. But who are you? Really.”

“I think you have just answered that, no?” He began long, soothing strokes over my arms.

“No, I said things about you. That’s not who you are. Who are you to yourself?”

“That’s a long story, Eden.” His voice was steady but undercut with tension, apprehension. Like he was cautioning me.

“I want to know. Please.”

“You want to know me?” It was as if no one had ever asked about the man beneath the paint.

I nodded.

“Well, then.” He cleared his throat, pausing to think of where to start. “People usually only want to know me for my power. They are afraid of me, but they want to have the control I do.”

“Painting your face to look like a skeleton probably doesn’t help that, too.”

He patted my head. “No, no. I suppose it doesn’t. I have a lot of control, Eden. I have a lot of things to control. When I was a child, there was a lot of expectation put on my shoulders. I was born in Italy, living and studying there as a boy. My brothers and I, learning about the ways of the old one. It sounds idyllic, yes?”

“Far from it, though. My brothers and I were forbidden from leaving the grounds, day in and day out of studying. Aside from the tutors, my eldest brother carried the weight of truly taking care of me and my youngest brother.”

“My brothers, my life. But, he had his responsibilities, too, he was a child, too. Not fit to take care. But me, too, I felt an undue responsibility to take care of my youngest brother. He is not much younger than myself, but he really did look up to me. Truly, I would say the thing I should have had was my father and my mother.”

“What happened to them?”

“My father is alive and well. If I am the Pope, then he is God - illusive and all powerful. He has all the influence people think I truly have, but I am nothing but his marionette.”

“I never knew his love, as I should have. He was always distant and cold. Very quick to criticize and keep score between myself and my brothers. My brothers, though, were my life then, even now, too. How cruel he was to drive us apart. When we were older, he took all manner of manipulation to separate us - by keeping us countries apart, festering resentment in each other, hurting lovers. Cruel things.. There, there once we were isolated, he would get me to do wicked things on his account. All for the promise of his love, or to see my brothers again. Vile things, I cannot say…”

“What about your mother?”

“Who’s to say? I never knew of her. Neither her name or her face. Just like my brothers, we all had different mothers. She was a pawn in my father’s game. I have… heard rumors she was murdered after I was born, or that she ran away to escape my father. But I do not know.”

“I know I needed a mother. A nurturing person, to soften the blows from my father. A reminder that regardless of the evil I think of myself, that I was made out of a union of love. But, I have never had that reassurance. I suppose that is my very belief of myself, I was made out of evil.”

“I don’t think you’re evil.” I whispered, braving to stand opposed to him.

“You don’t know what I’ve done for my father.” His words were cautious to me, but sincere.

“Why, though? After all that he’s put you through?”

“I have a very important part to play in my world. The selfish part of me likes the power - nice things, beautiful places, beautiful women.” His face was covered in disgust. “But, it’s all meaningless to me, I just want my father to be proud of me. That’s the worst part.”

Tears fell silently again.

“Ah. Eden. Seeing you on the stage…” his voice quivered, “You don’t deserve horrific things to happen to you. Isn’t it just awful? Wicked things happen everyday, and we are all unable to stop them.”

“You’ve saved me, Secondo.”

His glassy eyes gazed at me, a warmth to them. Like no one has spoken to him like that before.

“I could say the same for you, Eden.”

For a while, we sat silently, safe in each other's arms. I could have sworn our hearts fell into the same rhythm. He would rock us, back and forth, as his cries continued. Sniffles broke through the silence. His body was warm, as was mine.

I looked at him, lifting my head from his chest. My hand, holding his face so tenderly, as if he was made of glass.

This trust I felt for him - it was something else now. A shift, unmistakable; the warmth in my chest bloomed. Maybe it was circumstances, maybe I’ve been broken for too long to rush into a good feeling. But maybe, it was real.

I loved him.

His shining eyes - welcoming. The pale eye showed a new warmth. Perhaps.

Perhaps he felt this way too.

The pulling of me towards him. Our foreheads united, our eyes now closed, shedding the tears of unspoken feelings. I pulled back from him, staying on his lap, gazing at his thoroughly ruined paint.

“Oh nothing, nothing, nothing in this world

Can keep us apart

Oh, my dearest darling

I offer you my heart …”

An offering - as he sang to me, to make me comfortable, now I will to him.

“Will you dance with me, Eden?”

“Yes.”

He gently set me down, as he stood. I did not notice a record player, sitting atop a magnificent chest. A small stack of records, I could only guess it was his personal collection.

But so diligently, he flipped through his collection, settling on one particular album. I couldn’t see what he chose, only that he gazed at the cover with reverence. Carefully, he slide the vinyl from it’s worn sleeve. The needle lifted, delicately placing the old vinyl into place. So precisely, dropping the needle into position.

He let the music begin, and then I could tell instantly. It was Billie Holiday, “Lady in Satin.” I knew this album well, but I could never sing it as well as it deserved.

Still facing the record player, he began to sway his hips. But he turned to me, with a look of love in his eyes. His gaze belonged to me - how sweet to be the tender object of affection. But no longer was I an object, a complete person. Myself.

He leaned back onto the cabinet, crossing his arms and just revering me. Though painted, his lips curled to a gentle smile.

I stood up, walking towards him. I only hoped my eyes could convey that same reverent look as his. He reached his hand to mine, the invitation.

I grabbed his hand, feeling his very essence pulling me towards him. Like his own gravity.

The record played, softly, the hallmark grain of physical music gave a warmth to the room, unmistakable.

For Heaven’s sake,

Let’s fall in love

It’s no mistake, to call it love…

His hand holding mine, the other safely on the small of my back, keeping me close. We swayed as one. His strong steps guiding our movements.

It all felt so easy. So simple.

Being held by him, in the low lights of a hotel room, listening to Billie’s rich voice. He kept me safe.

Don’t say a word my darling

Don’t break the spell like this

Just hold me tight

We’re alone in the night…

Secondo guided me to spin, wrapping his arms around my body to dip me. I chuckled at his advanced choreography. A small kiss he pressed to the top of my head.

No words we said for what felt like hours. I just looked in his eyes, felt his heartbeat in my hands. But even in the silence, I have never felt more heard.

The truth now. I am free.

Perhaps this is home - safe, in the strong arms of death, himself.

#papa emertius ii #ghost bc fanart #ghost band fic #ghost fic #papa emeritus ii x reader #papa emeritus ii x female character #secondo #papa secondo #secondo fic #secondo x reader

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stanwixbuster · 11 months

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A Narrative Designer Dissects Generation Loss

(And Further Thoughts on Dollhouse-like Streams)

I keep saying how Jerma's ushered in an entirely new narrative medium and no-one's believed me.

This has been stewing in my mind for months. Ever since watching The Dollhouse Stream while going through a bout of just-got-my-second-covid-shot fever, one thought has carved itself on the inside of my skull. It is something I truly believe, and am baffled that more people aren't talking about.

Livestreams are evolving into an interactive narrative artform.

Generation Loss has only cemented this for me.

This is something I will keep yelling from the rooftops until my throat is sore, and this essay is my desperate attempt to get other people to start paying attention to interactive livestreams.

Livestreams as a Medium

By definition, a livestream is anything broadcast over the internet to a live audience. Over time this has generally fallen into a standard format thanks to the community of livestreaming centred around Twitch, of a livestreamer playing a video game with a live chat engaging in the experience in some capacity. This is to the point that someone who describes themselves as a "streamer" will come with the assumption that they play games for a live audience.

However, this is a flexible format, and doing out-of-the-box livestreams is nothing new. Stream team Radio TV Solutions are infamous for putting on weird, absurdist, and even genre-bending takes on playing games for audience entertainment. Some of their streams can be likened more to a live broadcast show, rather than a simple "gaming stream".

But, what we're focusing on here are interactive livestreams, and not just streamers taking an interesting spin on the format. Such examples are the likes of Charborg, presenting his chat with a question, with individual members voting on a response, to then be dragged at random into a literal court of opinion to debate the reason for their choice. He puts his audience directly in control of the stream and its direction, with both streamer and chatter having to "roleplay" into the experience.

Interactive livestreams even extend beyond Twitch's roots of gaming content. Alistair Aitcheson is known for his interactive art streams, where he creates paintings with direct input from the audience watching. Here, the audience decides what Alistair should do and how he should do it, whether that be drawing a black cat, only being allowed to paint with his elbows, or using mayonnaise as a pigment.

But, by far, the most famous player in this space is streamer and former TF2 creator (of which, as someone who's been a fan of his since 2012, am shocked that more people don't know) Jerma985. Over time, Jerma has become known for his "big streams", where he will do anything from broadcasting a fake family dinner where everyone but Jerma is an actor that have never met each other, to digging up rocks in the Nevada desert in collaboration with a local science institution, to organising an entire baseball game of half actors and half actual athletes, complete with a full live commentary.

In 2019, Jerma broadcast "The Carnival Stream", a defining work for interactive livestreams. Jerma played the role of a ringmaster, bringing his chat around various carnival games that could be played with Twitch chat-powered robots. Almost immediately it became a sensation, and put Jerma down as one of the most innovative livestreamers to date. It was something Twitch had never seen before. Truly, no-one was doing it like Jerma.

At this point, livestreams are a medium that are going through radical innovations. People are doing interesting things with the concept, experimenting with what you can and can't do, and pushing them into new and fascinating directions of entertainment.

How do you turn entertainment into an artform?

The Impact of the Dollhouse Stream

During my undergraduate, my professor told me one thing I've held dear to my ethos ever since. Discussing the ways narratives are woven into video games, he said:

"The difference between a toy and art, is that art is able to tell a story."

It's a measurement that's never failed me. Everytime I've looked at something, and wondered if I could call it art, I remember this. Art is made through narrative. And one thing I'm always fascinated by, is if a medium can tell a narrative uniquely compared to others. I develop games fulltime, and both my studio and solo projects are focused on how to most effectively tell a story through whatever means it finds itself in. Interactive narrative experiences are something I hold very dear.

When Jerma announced "The Dollhouse Stream" to broadcast in 2021, the hype was electric. By now Jerma's big streams had become an internet sensation, even to the point of being affectionately dubbed "The Superbowl for the gays". With the only information on the stream being something influenced by The Sims, taking place over three individual broadcasts, tens and thousands of viewers tuned in to watch.

What we saw was, I truly believe, the beginning of livestreaming turning into an artform.

The Dollhouse Stream took interactive livestreams in ways that have never been seen before, and it's an absolute marvel that it exists at all. It was brilliant, hilarious, and absolutely groundbreaking.

And, there was a plot.

It was a loose plot, and just served as a way to funnel more shenanigans on screen, but it existed and fulfilled the exact purpose it was set out to do. There were defined beats, a set way it was going to end, and the interactive elements were giving a unique experience on how we'd get there.

This is where I felt my fixation latch. This could be a new narrative medium.

I prayed, and hoped, this was just the beginning of streams like this.

An Analysis of Generation Loss as an Interactive Narrative

(And Other Parts that Caught my Attention)

Disclaimer: Any critiques in this section are given entirely in good faith, and have no bearing on the immense amounts of work by those who worked on Generation Loss. This comes from me believing with my whole heart that interactive livestreams could, and should, be judged as an artform, and thus subject to the same level of critical analysis.

My prayers for more were answered when Generation Loss was announced as a "live interactive horror show". I decided to go into the stream blind, for better or worse, only knowing that the stream was based around horror, and almost certainly would be set in its own self-contained narrative. There was supplementary media around it to hype the stream up and flesh out the story around it, but I wanted to see how well this could stand on its own, and if interactive livestreams really could be the new narrative medium I was hoping they were.

Episode One

was absolutely not what I was expecting.

The tonal whiplash I felt on realising this was being played as a comedy is not something I'm quite able to describe.

This doesn't make it bad; far from it. In retrospect it's a perfect intro to the slow descent from light-hearted comedy romp that's almost self-aware into a serious psychological horror.

Being familiar with The Dollhouse Stream, the structure is almost identical, with an audience presented with a choice, going to a timed vote, and having the choice with the highest percentage play out in whatever ways it might. Between beats of the audience picking a choice and seeing its consequences, the downtime is filled with the streamers reacting to the choices, shooting the shit, or guiding the stream through scripted plot beats.

But Generation Loss takes it in a slightly different direction. The Dollhouse Stream is based on life simulation games, with the audience trying to keep Jerma alive (or, most of the time, deliberately starving or exhausting him to see what would happen), earning money to buy furniture, upgrading the house, and sitting back to watch the chaos they've inspired.

Generation Loss, however, commits to the theme of an adventure game. Ranboo wakes up in a cabin, realises they're stuck in there, and we're presented with the first choice of picking somewhere to investigate, and later learning that we have an inventory. There's no objective, beyond a vague semblance of knowing we need to get out, and having to explore to find out what we're supposed to do. As the audience we have direct control over his actions, and decide where Ranboo should search next, guide him through various puzzles, and help him out of precarious situations.

Once I settled into what I was watching, the stream was great. It kept up the pace, everyone was hilarious, played into its cheese, and was a solid take on an interactive livestream.

But, the one thing I was hoping for wasn't there, with interactivity that was played with in interesting manners. It was fairly obvious that every choice would lead us to the same, if not a similar outcome. With The Dollhouse Stream, Jerma choosing to flirt with someone rather than simply talking to them could have huge impacts on where the day-to-day plot would go, and how everyone else responded to it in turn.

After some thought, I settled on this being episode one. Something new could be coming in the future, and there was no way the advertising banked this hard into horror to just be a simple comedy setup. This episode was a great start, made good use of interactive livestreams as a medium, and made me cautiously optimistic for the rest of the series.

Episode Two

Starting episode two, it took me all of three seconds to recognise the Saw inspiration and know exactly who would be behind it.

For those who haven't been following Jerma for long enough to cause permanent damage to your psyche, Jerma has an ongoing joke of putting on an audio filter and speaking like Jigsaw, running through bizarre or entirely mundane takes on Saw traps. This all stemmed from one House Flipper stream, which quickly spirals into an insistence that the Saw movies have an obsession with neurotoxins and nerve agents, which chat is very quick to disprove, and the legend of GYAS is born.

So as a Jerma fan, witnessing the culmination of a years-long bit, this was fucking hilarious.

But as someone looking to this series as a new narrative direction for interactive livestreams, I started to get a little concerned. It seemed to be hitting much the same points as The Dollhouse Stream, without really pushing into new fields on the narrative side. Perhaps "horror" was mislabeled, and "comedy horror" might have been a more apt description. Critically, maybe the angle I'd like interactive livestreams to be taken in wasn't the intent of this series. It was definitely enjoyable, but maybe I was looking for something that wasn't put there in the first place.

The moment that turned it around was this:

This is when Generation Loss became what I was looking for.

Everything about this moment works spectacularly. Charlie's almost immediate transition from silly jokes about toy racing cars to guttural screaming; the delayed, almost confused reaction from Ranboo; the cut straight back to the jokes, leaving the audience to digest what just happened, alone, with no-one on screen to help us through it.

This simple 10 seconds made the entire episode work. We now have a frame story. What we're seeing isn't reality (and as we later learn, is a literal show), and occasionally we see through the gaps in the curtain. Suddenly, the goofiness can be leant into. We can lean into it as hard as we want; there's no bearing on what's actually happening. Then you're sat there, laughing at streamer shenanigans and jokes, with a subdued sort of horror that you'll never know when the curtain will be pulled back again.

My main wish for this episode was that the curtain was pulled more effectively. Each streamer more than adds to the comedic side to the stream, then when it was pulled (or at least, when I assume it was), I don't think it landed as well as the operating table.

Some examples are the deaths. Ethan's stands out to me, as one that gives me some of the most mixed emotions. Just as itself, watching Ethan die off-screen, only hearing his voice, while Ranboo and Sneeg stand and barely react to it in stark contrast to Austin's panic, works extremely well if you look at it as a scene out of context.

The problem is, I think it breaks an established rule. The rule being, as far as I can tell, that while the show is running everything is seemingly inconsequential. Once Ranboo wakes up, and both of us learn of the show masking everything, we're free to see the reality under it, making us more similar to each other than he'd like.

On the operating table, we're given a precedent for what green slime actually is. Now, any time we see it, it's in a very different light, and entirely recontextualises the first episode.

But now when Ethan dies, we... do see blood? I was under the assumption that blood was censored on the show in some capacity, and the glitches are the show breaking down and getting a brief slice of the reality of the situation. If it isn't, what happened with Charlie? Did this one death in particular make it through the censors, for some reason? Did it have something to do with the setting adjusted on Ranboo's mask before this room was hit? If so, it seems like a bizarre choice, both in-universe and for the narrative impact it had.

We return to some of these spots in the next episode. It feels like a missed opportunity to not play off these moments as a fake-out on the show-side, and then discovering they were actual deaths when the reveal's made. Instead we have people dying in gruesome manners, to then reveal they're... still dead. It's an alright reveal in the context of the line between reality and fiction being blurred, but one that could be much stronger.

All of this isn't to say that every death needed a moment where the line between show and reality is crossed. Vinny's death is a perfect example. It's a full Looney Tunes bit of being (literally) ragdolled across a room, with cartoonish fanfare, and then met with a hilarious demise of being hit in the head with an anvil. The reality of this... I like that being left to our imagination. It's a good one.

The death I felt was the weakest was the combined deaths of Austin and Sneeg, getting crushed by a moving wall cutout Ranboo manages to fit through, of which, through many ways that are immediately obvious, could fit several people through with some amount of problem solving.

Was this... funny? Absurd? Are we supposed to laugh? It's played in a goofy manner, definitely, but this was just after Ethan's death. We already know these people are dying by this point, or at the very least grievously harmed, so having two people die in succession to then be immediately swept under the rug was odd. After Niki's death, which accomplished a shock death that's moved on from almost immediately very nicely, it felt like a backtracking in tone and redoing a beat we've already seen.

On top of that, Austin reacted to Ethan's death, and then to the continued lack of reaction Sneeg and Ranboo have. I took this as Austin no longer being controlled in some capacity, so it doesn't make that much sense for Austin to die in a way that has a logical way out. Sneeg's does make sense, having been fully put under again. And going back to the point of the green slime, wouldn't it be much more effective if Ethan died in a way that isn't seen, perhaps only briefly and then cut off, to then see Austin freaking out over "nothing"?

I felt a bit of dissonance. Maybe this was the intent, but I don't think it landed in the right way. Instead of thinking if I should be concerned if that was a real death or not, like Niki's, I was more wondering if I was supposed to be thinking that. I was confused rather than horrified.

To give my fair dues, the moment with Sneeg realising where he was, and his attempted escape, was really good. It's a subtle moment at first, only shown by a glitch and Sneeg snapping out of an apparent fugue, to try to find his way out while pretending he's still under it. Our next curtain pull is Sneeg being dragged back into the show to be reset again while everyone's frozen, which I only fully caught on a rewatch as a literal pause of the show.

Another part of this episode that weakened it was something I didn't even realise would be an issue with interactive livestreams. With The Dollhouse Stream, if someone went on a bit of a joke tangent before moving onto the next part, it was fine. You're here to laugh and it only played into the strengths of the whole thing being a comedy setup. You're going from one thing to laugh at, to another thing to laugh at, and now you're on a detour for something else to laugh at that wasn't fully planned. The beats feed into each other.

But with Generation Loss, I was wanting everyone to move on so we could see the next horror beat. I wanted to be on the edge of my seat wondering what's going to happen next, and instead I was waiting for this line of jokes to wrap up. It was funny, because these people are full-time entertainers, but I didn't want to laugh right now.

Even with that said, I'm honestly not sure where that line should be. One part of me thinks this episode would be much for the better with some tighter pacing, but another couldn't bear to not have my heartstrings pulled by fulltime gay Austin's four children. Not even mentioning his one wive.

And wrapping up what I thought would be a small tangent before I get to the reason this essay exists in the first place, even with some tonal inconsistency and downtime between beats, I adore the details in this episode you only catch on a rewatch. For example, this tiny moment in the second to last room, where Ranboo is tapping out a morse code SOS signal with one hand, to then stop himself with the other.

Now that's sick.

Right; let's talk about why I'm here.

I was delighted to see that in this episode we got some neat interactivity that did have some narrative knock-ons. I was, finally, seeing what I came here for! Thrilling!

The critical moment of interactivity is the carousel, at least for the narrative, of which we get to choose two people to save and bring with us for the rest of the episode.

Yes, of course, our choice to save Niki gets her killed, but isn't it nice to play a part?

If we chose someone else, we could have got some pretty different improv sections or possibly new plot beats entirely. It's a good way to add some narrative branching while still progressing through a defined story with one ending.

The other interactive portions of the stream lean into one of my favourite parts of narrative design, of tying game mechanics to the story you're telling. Where the first episode takes on the style of an adventure game, the second is more akin to a gameshow. "Show" is the key word here, and the crux of the whole frame story this episode introduces. We're watching a silly little show, with some silly little entertainers, playing some silly little games that have absolutely no bearing on any possible reality. At all.

And since we're entertaining ourselves with something so mindless, not really caring about what's happening behind it, some equally mindless and pointless games would be a perfect supplement for this show. At first I wasn't a fan of these game sections, until I started to think about why they'd be put there. It's padding. A distraction. It literally covers the entire screen, demands your full attention by not allowing the story to continue until it's done, all to take your mind off what you're looking at and any discrepancies you might have seen before. It's not obvious, initially causes some friction, and really elevates the medium it's in once you start thinking about it a little deeper.

This is what I'm here for; this is the potential I saw.

With a very nice ending to round it off, and a full reveal promising the horror to run deeper as we continue on, my cautious optimism on how this would be wrapped up persisted.

Episode Three

Episode three is the tonal peak of the series, and by far the strongest episode. It strikes the perfect balance between humour and horror, and really shows the strengths of interactive livestreams as a narrative medium.

It starts almost immediately where we left off from the previous episode, tilting further away from comedy, and then sets us on a slow descent into absolute horror. This progression is done wonderfully. There's even a few sporadic jokes that land during the shift, before committing to it entirely by the ending.

My worry was the overarching story would not land. That there would be one huge lore dump explaining every detail of this corporation behind everything we just had to know. Instead, it's kept pleasantly vague with enough details for us to fill in the blanks from the previous episodes, and add some fantastic context that makes the whole series' worldbuilding stronger.

And a genuine question, did Charlie get acting lessons at some point? His swaps between goofs and terror are stunningly natural and lad's got some pipes on him that fully convinced me he was scared for his life.

Subtlety is the last thing I expected to be impressed by during this. Instead of having its messages laid out explicitly by one character going on a years-long monologue, they're told through environment, character reactions, and from details we've caught previously. Instead of spelling out a message on how streamer personalities are seen by others, you can show us a literal commodification of going live from derelict storefronts.

Cross-stream invasions will never get old. Ever.

This episode is where the series starts to make a fantastic use of every part of the medium it's in. Namely, as a filmed medium, between excellent shots of the live portions, especially during the chase scenes, to some near-seamless cuts to the prerecorded cinematics.

This is the first livestream I've ever said: "Wow, the cinematography's fantastic."

And hilariously, for the episode that ended up being my favourite, is the one with the least amount of actual interactivity. There's only two choices the audience makes, and both are extremely well-placed and well-done. It shows so well how it's not how much interactivity you shove into a medium that enhances it, but when and why you use it.

The first one is a subversion. Everyone loves subversions. We make a choice, but Ranboo now ignores us entirely. By doing so, and revelling in his newfound freedom, Ranboo condemns himself with the wrong choice.

Is it better for us to be in control of Ranboo? Should we be?

There's even subtle storytelling that doesn't come from an interactive moment directly. One happens during the final cinematic before the last choice. This one tiny moment, that I didn't even realise was there until seeing brief mentions of it in chat.

There's an exit sign that Ranboo misses.

And, critically, there were people in the audience who didn't.

Consider us, as we were controlling Ranboo before. There very well may have been moments Ranboo would have missed entirely if not for our choices to bring them there. If we were still in control, could we have sent them that way? Would we have been able to? Would it even be considered a freedom, if he didn't make the choice to reach it?

We're now forced to watch him head to one inevitable fate, just as he watched everyone before him.

The second, and final choice, is the climax of the entire series. Ranboo's final send off, after the show's had its run with him, is up to the audience to decide if he should live or die. Even after managing to be free of audience control, to the point of actively rejecting it, Ranboo is still beheld by it to the very end.

There's even a narrative element to seeing the decision shift in real time, told entirely by the audience watching. Chat immediately floods with attempts to save Ranboo, the knee-jerk reaction on being faced with the option to kill them. Then, as the announcer details the actual fate of being left alive, with Ranboo's slow realisation that they'd consider it worse than death, the bar slowly creeps over to the right, flicking back and forth over the 50/50 mark.

And then, as the choice times out, deciding to give Ranboo an apparent mercy, chat is immediately flooded with laments on if it was the right call as the credits roll.

Absolutely stellar.

This is, for all intents and purposes, the first ever narrative-heavy interactive livestream. It's the best one because it's the only one. There's wanes and waxes, with parts that didn't land, some that very much did, and an experience that I still enjoyed immensely, if not mostly on the novelty of the medium, and the obvious heart that was put into every part of it. Quoting myself to a friend minutes after the stream ended:

"i feel like i just watched the second movie ever made"

And, should Ranboo, Jerma, or literally anyone else pursue narrative-heavy interactive livestreams further, there's so much that could be learnt from and expounded on into something incredible.

That excites me. That really excites me.

Interactive Livestreams as a Narrative Medium

This begs the question: where do we go from here?

I'm pulling away from Generation Loss specifically, and now asking to the question of narratives in interactive livestreams in general. Could we consider interactive livestreams a new narrative medium? Or is it a subgenre of another type of storytelling, with much the same considerations and impacts?

What we're really asking, is this: how does an interactive livestream tell a story through audience interaction? One of the best ways we can do this, is to start making comparisons between interactive livestreams and other mediums, and seeing what lessons we can and can't learn from them.

So, with this in mind, what medium is one of the most famous and wide-spread types of interactive media? What medium is an intersection of many others, and is able to use their strengths and limitations as a story demands? What medium has decades of experience in narrative agency and responding to the choices of someone engaging with it?

Video games.

The Narratives of Interactive Livestreams

Let's analyse The Dollhouse Stream as we would a piece of interactive fiction. It already has many terms describing narrative structures and systems, and the progression of The Dollhouse Stream fits quite nicely into them.

We're going to jump to the first choice made in the house itself in episode one, where the "game" begins proper. There's intricacies happening right up to that point, but we'll discuss what they are in more detail shortly.

The audience's first choice, between working out, going outside, and using the toilet, is exactly the one you think it is. Ignoring the innate comedy of piss, a choice is made, some amount of content happens, and then the stream continues on until the next choice.

This is what's known as a "bottleneck", where a choice branches out, and then collapses back down to a main branch. This main branch, typically dubbed "the golden path" (GP), is the path with the most content, the path a designer tries to guide the player down for narrative satisfaction, the "win condition", or other similar denotation. How the GP is defined exactly depends on the type of story being constructed.

So here's a question: what's the GP of an interactive livestream?

This is where analysing interactive livestreams in this way can only take us so far. The thing is, this idea of branching out and bottlenecking, implies that after the bottleneck, the stream would progress the exact same no matter which choice was made. This is decidedly not true, for many apparent reasons that I'm sure you can see. In an alternate vote where, shockingly, chat decides to not make Jerma piss, he would have had to make very different jokes.

Also, looking at this diagram might imply that the entire stream is put on hold when a vote takes place, like in interactive fiction when a choice is presented and the game effectively pauses until the player picks one. Audience choices are actually running asynchronously to the stream, and the streamers can fill the gap with improv until a choice is decided. Things can even happen mid-decision that has an impact on how the audience votes. Screaming "Please let me die", perhaps.

Instead, the narrative of interactive livestreams put us on an entirely different kind of story.

One type of narrative system is known as "attribute-based stories", sometimes called "quality-based stories". Where a block of narrative content is reached, and based on the choices made during it, an attribute is applied and carried through the rest of the story. These could range from obtaining an item, getting level experience, sating a survival need, changing relationships with other characters, or a literally limitless list of others.

How attributes are used, and when they're applied, is down to the designer. Imagine you go to a pub with the attribute "had a bad day at work". You enter, make some choices, and leave with the attribute "got into a bar fight". Once you return home, you could mention the attributes you gained during the day with your roommate, with some special content playing out based on it. Perhaps "put on your favourite shirt this morning" and "got beer spilled down your shirt". This is an admittedly crude explanation of attributes, and doesn't even begin to look at the narrative complexities it allows, but hopefully gives you a good idea of how they work.

Generation Loss, likely from its initial influence from adventure games (of which, structurally, is almost one in the same as interactive fiction), and later game shows, doesn't stray too far from a branch and bottleneck format. But, this doesn't stop attributes being used effectively, both by streamers playing off improv and making some minor changes to the narrative, even with the ending being predetermined.

Conversely, attributes make up almost all of The Dollhouse Stream's narrative. Every choice, furniture, interaction with other characters, and even audience reactions can be thought of in terms of attributes. One of the most well-known moments of the series comes from something developed almost entirely on attributes:

Jerma and Emilia.

This thread starts once the audience decides to call for "sexy maid service." We're given what was sure to be a brief joke, and are greeted at the door by a maid played by Ludwig, later finding out he's playing the character of non-binary maid Emilia.

The audience is immediately smitten. They love them. A choice is made to flirt with Emilia, and the rest is history.

Their relationship continues with a date invitation, Jerma sleeping through it, awkward interactions, development with the rest of the cast. And, in a culmination of all of this, Jerma cheats on Emilia with Death, with one of the most infamous scenes in the series bringing up every attribute this relationship's gained up to this point. Jerma calling Emilia a "stupid maid" out of context, the missed dates, every insane occurrence that's happened in this house, all comes out in this one moment, and it's just as impressive as it is the funniest shit I've ever seen on Twitch.

You don't know how high they can fly.

Emilia was intended to be a small gag. Instead, through audience popularity, and building a whole story on nothing but attributes, they became a critical character of the series. By playing into each other, the audience and streamers have, very effectively, created an entirely new plot thread for the stream to follow, which has had sweeping effects on the entire narrative.

This is a level of interactivity that games could only dream of. Sure, you can always comment on the player picking up the green sword instead of the red, but can you comment on their emotional response to that decision? Their thoughts on not taking the red? If we become fixated on it, are we then able to reference it as a cute nod or critical plotpoint, and change the future of the game based on it? If the audience doesn't care, can you drop it entirely, and bring in something else you have prepared?

That level of narrative fidelity is nigh-impossible to hit in a video game. There's a reason games that get even slightly close to emulating this, like Disco Elysium, are revered as technical marvels.

Let's consider how this could be applied to another technique used by games to deliver as much interactivity as possible, while cutting back on the amount of assets needing to be created. Rather than scripting entirely new locations and environments for every choice made, choices are instead put back on the characters. The same general series of events take place, and what changes is how the characters react to them. They can change the narrative based on if they're the one to perform an action, if they do an action at all, how their relationship with other characters pans out, and, if the story calls for it, if a specific character survives.

In interactive livestreams, these characters are no longer AI reacting to scripted events you meticulously plan out to land. These are real, actual actors who can respond, adjust, and create new content on the fly based on previous attributes, with the only real limit being their skill as an actor. Most importantly, they can improv their way out of something going entirely off-rails, and possibly make something even better than the original plan.

This was starting to sound familiar to me. What other medium have stories created through a two-way relationship between separate parties? What other medium requires everyone involved to be fully playing in the headspace of the story, and be willing to bend, and possibly break it?

TTRPGs.

An interactive livestream manages to create the hyper-personalised story of a TTRPG, with choice mechanics of video games, combined with the visual spectacle of theatre and film.

And that's thrilling.

Structuring the Narrative of an Interactive Livestream

Let's temper our excitement for a minute, and bring our attention back to the concept of a GP. A GP, as we saw earlier, isn't really a structure we can apply to interactive livestreams. Even if we meticulously plan out everything to the minute detail, one improv'd line could throw the entire thing off. And if we do want to make something to that end, we could just, you know, make a scripted show. It doesn't exactly fit the spirit of an interactive livestream and what it could do.

So as much as interactive livestreams can lean into being a live medium and using improv to carry it, they still need to tell a story, especially if it wants to lean heavier into the narrative side over improv comedy.

I'm proposing a term of "golden nodes" for interactive livestreams. This takes the idea of a golden path, but shifts it to better fit how interactive livestreams come to be. A golden node is a piece of content that must be hit at some point. Either because they are the ending state of the stream, enough preparation has gone into them that it would be a catastrophic waste of money to not show it, or has critical plot beats that forwards the story being told. How we get there (in terms of making a complete story, and less so on how good it will be) is irrelevant, and where something entirely unplanned can crop up.

We could try running through The Dollhouse Stream and categorising golden nodes, but this is something you can't really define with something so heavily reliant on improv. What we might think was a golden node might have been improvised on the day, and something we think might have been made on the spot had weeks of planning. Sometimes it's obvious, like organising a bear attack complete with a bear costume, or having a whole lighting setup for a party, but when so much is made up on the spot, it becomes much harder to define which is which. And often, it's a bit of a pointless exercise, and more of a fun fact you hear in the BTS.

On the other hand, as you would expect from something much more focused on telling a pre-planned story, Generation Loss is much heavier with its golden nodes compared to The Dollhouse Stream, and much easier to guess which were planned and take stabs at what was improvised live. I actually wanted to take a stab at mapping the whole series out, complete with attributes gained, used, and estimating which nodes were golden, but...

I've spent far too long on this already.

A few notes I did make on the deaths in episode two, for the curious:

Niki was voted by the audience as the first choice to be saved. If the any-person voted was the one to trigger this, Austin, Ethan, or Niki could have died first.

Vinny's death is a cinematic dependency. Unless multiple videos were shot for it, Vinny had to die at that point.

Ethan's death could have been anyone

I'm personally convinced Sneeg was railroaded to survive until the end, given how well his reset state plays off Ranboo's new emotionless performance.

Keep in mind, this is entirely from my own perspective as someone watching from the outside, and approaching it from the perspective of a narrative designer trying to maximise unique outcomes. I've had to make several assumptions here and I could be entirely off-base.

Despite my crashing out, mapping the livestream out like this shows how rail-roaded episode three is, to the point you can actually draw a solid GP for it. It also shows that, even with many golden nodes to hit, episode two manages to have quite a few moments that could have gone differently based on audience choice. At least, if my assumptions are correct.

So, this leaves me with a proposed set of terms for discussing interactive livestream. Interactive livestream are built around "nodes"; chunks of content that have been explicitly planned out and prepared for before the stream begins. Some of these are golden nodes. Golden nodes could be anything, but are things that must be hit before the stream is over. Other nodes may be optionally hit, and entirely unplanned and improvised content can happen between any nodes. During unplanned segments and nodes alike, everyone (and, really, everything), can gain attributes, which can be brought up at any time to the story's discretion.

Maybe these terms are useful. Maybe they aren't. We'll have to wait and see.

The Limitations of Interactive Livestreams

As much as it's fun to speculate what could be, we, unfortunately, live in a real world with restrictions and limits of what we can do.

One of the most obvious ones is budget, and with the amount of moving parts an interactive livestream has, budget becomes a vital topic to remember. But budget isn't just a matter of money. Consider, if you had unlimited money, and were writing a novel by yourself, how fast could you work? Let's say you write a solid 2,000 words a day, and to you, a novel is complete at 80,000. In this example, you're going to live to 80 before peacefully dying of old age, and start your novelist career at the ripe age of 20.

Even if you had no worries about having a roof over your head, feeding yourself, never getting sick, never taking holidays, and sacrificing every day of your life to writing novels, not even accounting for slowing down as you grew older, or editing, publishing, and the entire escapade on getting your work noticed by others, you would be able to produce 547 in your lifetime, with half a manuscript left over.

Now consider this when you do have a limited amount to spend and a deadline to hit, and now you're writing something that could have five novels worth of storylines, involves visuals, audio, music, technical implementation, and now considering interactive livestreams specifically, set design, filming requirements, human needs of catering, sanitation, and shelter for your cast and crew.

Suddenly, two novels of content compared to five looks much more appealing. Interactive narratives not having limitless branches isn't a matter of not wanting to put everything you've got into a project. It's a matter of production realism.

Time is a resource, and one you need to spend just as wisely as money.

This is something very important to remember for interactive livestreams. It's also something to consider for ways we could cut out the expensive parts of one. Could we create one that doesn't have a fancy camera setup? Do we need camera visuals at all, making something akin to a live narrative podcast? Do all interactive livestreams need to last several hours, or can we reduce the scope of time? It wouldn't have the exact same spectacle as a several-hour live filmed show would, sure, but that doesn't mean we can't make impactful narratives with it. Do you know how many eggs we've cracked with 5 minute twine games?

Limitations are also not just a matter of production. We need to think about limitations of a medium itself. A novel, with just text, doesn't have the liberty of showing you something in a visual format, and has to rely entirely on words to communicate the same information. Of course, you can bend and break the rules a little and include pictures in your book, but that starts to cross the line into other formats. Now we're not just a written medium, and have other considerations to make as well. And, generally, writing a paragraph of description is quicker than drawing a picture. The real challenge is making a paragraph just as impactful as a picture in the same spot.

For interactive livestreams, its limitations are a bit tricker to define, being an intersection of so many types of media right off the bat. I'm woefully undereducated of the limitations of filming and live shows, and unfortunately cannot speak to how they would shape how a story is developed. But, what I can do is talk about possible limitations in narrative interactivity. There are a few that jump to mind immediately.

As much as we can talk about audience choice in interactive livestreams, this begs an interesting question, of what happens to the choices the audience doesn't pick. In a game, this is pretty simple. That choice is blocked off, it may have consequences, and the player lives with the choice they did make.

However, games are not performances. They're pieces of media that can be replayed on-demand. If you want a different experience, or want to see what that choice you didn't make actually did, all you have to do is start again.

An interactive livestream does not have this liberty. Once the livestream is over, it cannot be replayed by the audience for a different outcome. Every choice is final, the narrative responds to it, and whatever outcome the then-live audience chooses is the one that's the final outcome for everyone else watching the vod.

In a game, there's often a discussion about how much it should branch around a choice, especially if that choice leads you on an entirely different path with unique content. Someone might not be interested in another run, and unless you really put replayability forward as a selling point, or make it a central mechanic of the game, it's a high gamble that a lot of the content you put a dear amount of effort into will never be seen.

For an interactive livestream, that isn't a matter of content that won't be seen on one run. That's content that won't be seen, period, and is effectively discarded after the stream ends. If we have a story with two immediate branching paths, that's two interactive livestreams worth of budget, for only half the content being delivered.

Looking at this diagram, we can see what content someone sees on one run of a typical branching game. There's a lot they saw, but much more that they didn't. Imagine that this is now the planned content branch for an interactive livestream. Imagine that each one of those nodes is the equivalent to a room in episode two of Generation Loss, and how many uncoloured nodes there are in comparison to red.

Are linear bottlenecked choices the only outcomes for narratives of interactive livestream if we're not depending on improv? Is there an upper limit to how much "true" branching you can prepare before you start hitting the limits of your budget? Can there be an interactive livestream that manages to give several ending options based on the path taken, or will it always have to collapse back down to one alone, or an ending with one diverging choice in the final moment? Does this strip some audience agency, knowing that in spite of their choices or "playing along", they will never be able to change where the story is going, or only making one difference right at the end?

Equally, however, the audience will never know. With a game, an inconsequential choice can always be scrutinised on a replay. Finding out that if you choose to shoot someone, you always miss, and gives you the exact same outcome as letting them live. In an interactive livestream, to the audience, that other choice is permanently gone as soon as we decide to let them live. We will never know what shooting them would have done. It's a kind of choice funneling that games could only dream of.

Compare this diagram, showing a heavily bottle-necked story in a game with multiple runs:

To this one. The same story, now adapted for an interactive livestream:

Interactive livestream are already making use of this. Consider the first choice in episode three of Generation Loss. The scripted event is the audience picking one code, and Ranboo picking any other to forward the plot. The "true" code is chosen when the audience picks it, and Ranboo picks a different one to trigger the security lockdown.

In a game, the first time we play this would have much the same narrative impact, but not so on the second. If we pick a code, enter it, and find out on the first run it's wrong, we remember this on the next. We can try to cheat a little and pick the code we know is correct from the previous run, only to find that no matter what, whatever we pick is the incorrect one. Replay value is a little cheapened.

In an interactive livestream, however, as far as the narrative goes, we will never know anything different. Our first choice is the only choice. The yellow code is always incorrect.

Will audiences wise up to these moments and start to tire of it? Will we get good enough at disguising them and striking a balance between actual interactivity and putting the audience on rails? Who knows. We have to do it and find out.

Here's another thing I've been wondering in terms of limitations, of the kind of narrative setups you can and can't do with interactive livestreams. I mention this, because currently the two story-heavy interactive livestreams we have are based around the concept of an audience directly controlling a streamer, who (and in the case of Generation Loss, not at all times) is aware that they're being controlled and broadcast live.

The Dollhouse Stream takes it in a comedic direction. The entire inspiration of the stream is based on The Sims, with Jerma directly taking mannerisms and inside jokes from the games. Jerma is fully aware of the chat controlling him, and at times openly antagonistic of choices made or not made, but always plays into the character and follows whatever decisions the audience makes.

Generation Loss, as discussed, is the horror inversion of this. Ranboo starts blissfully unaware of the audience controlling them, and the fact this is even being broadcast, and plays into it much like they were making the choices themself. Soon after he learns the truth, he's terrified and defiant of the audience previously controlling him, which marks a point in the narrative of things turning south.

It's pretty interesting to me that both of these are built on the audience being in direct control of a streamer as an extant character to itself, and the streamer fully aware it exists, at least in different capacities. It's like we're already having some meta commentary on the whole medium before it's even fully hit its stride.

I'm certain there's ways to create interactive livestream that don't immediately jump to this as how the audience interacts (the first thought takes a similar thread of video games, where the audience "is" the person they're "controlling", and as a character they and the audience are one in the same), but I also posit this. Does the audience need to control a person? Could they control the environment a streamer is in, and possibly the stream itself? Could the audience be an additional character to themselves, not in direct control of others present? Could we hotswap control between different people on the fly? There's room to explore what the audience actually controls and why.

This is also said with an understanding that both The Dollhouse Stream and Generation Loss are, in varying capacities, commentaries on livestreaming and impacts it has on both streamer and audience. This is excellent, and I'm certainly not calling it a dead-end for interactive livestreams, but I am saying that this medium has potential outside it.

And something else I do wonder about, is the tone of narratives in future interactive livestreams. They, obviously, have their roots in streamer culture and the personalities that have come from it. Each of these personalities, being comedic entertainers, always bring their own jokes and riffs and are predisposed to making people laugh from observational humour. It begs the question, will every interactive livestream have some kind of jokes and tangents to it, and all have some form of improv comedy? Will there be ones that manage to break away from this entirely?

But then I think of some criticisms of video games, of saying that things are too "game-like". Which, to me, is similar to walking into an Italian restaurant and complaining about the amount of pasta. Maybe this is similar. I think we simply don't have enough interactive livestreams to call it.

We need to see more.

We're on the Frontier of a New Way to Tell Stories

This is the point where I fully convinced myself of something I'd been suspecting from the first ten minutes of The Dollhouse Stream. By trying to analyse interactive livestreams as interactive fiction, I was met with caveats and exceptions. As a TTRPG, more caveats. As a standard video game, more. This wasn't a simple matter of treating it as one medium, and keeping in mind one adjustment to make it work. There were sweeping knock-on effects that didn't match with any existing interactive media, and forced me to rethink how to approach it from the ground up.

This is how, I believe, interactive livestreams sets themselves apart from other forms of interactive narratives, and into their own category entirely. They are simply something unto themselves. There's many questions here, and they can only be answered by those who will strike out to try them, and I eagerly await those who do.

We are currently seeing, in real time, a new form of interactive media being developed right in front of us. And one I believe, with the right hands and direction, could easily ascend to a point of being considered art through narrative.

I see nothing but potential. There are so many ways to take this medium and I am begging more people to put their hat into the ring to see what the true limits of it are beyond theory and speculation.

But, it needs that direction. It needs people who understand choice in media, and for the love of god, it needs narrative designers at the helm. My obvious bias as a fulltime game designer and solo narrative dev come through here, but there's no other medium that's produced talent better equipped to tackle this.

I'm right here. Someone hire me.

To which my question is: if you're in the games industry, and not instantly smitten by interactive livestreams as a new medium for storytelling experiences, what the hell are you doing?

And if you're not, and read this for whatever reason you did, I hope you can see what I see, and are as excited as I am.

#surprise it's actually today #9.8K WORD WARNING; READ MORE AT OWN RISK #generation loss #gen loss #ranboo #jerma #jerma985 #writing #essays #interactive fiction

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