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desirepathzine · 8 months

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It is 2023. Ethel Cain releases a surprise one-off single, unrelated to the narrative cycle she is currently pursuing, called Famous Last Words (An Ode to Eaters). Many are confused as to where the song comes from, if it relates to her Preacher's Daughter storylines, a long-term storytelling venture that Cain intends to continue for possibly the next decade. Fans that keep up with Cain on Tumblr might know that she released the song shortly after seeing the movie that inspired its lyrics, Luca Gudagnino's Bones and All, and posted its link here.

Bones and All has seen a small re-evaluation since the release of Famous Last Words, mostly by Ethel Cain's small but ravenous fanbase. The film was largely neglected upon its 2022 release.

It was initially hard hard to tell what the movie even was, from a marketing standpoint. Was it a film adaptation of a book directed by Luca Gudagnino? There was precedent for that in the public consciousness, Gudagnino directed the acclaimed Call Me By Your Name. Was it a horror film about cannibalism? Also that, horror has been thriving in our pandemic era, some of the biggest box office draws of the past three years have been horror films with massive budgets and surprisingly large audiences. A romance with two young actors with star power on the rise? Also yes, the stan culture surrounding particularly Timothee Chalamet were anticipating the film, but were perhaps not prepared for its stomach churning sequences of vioence. Chalamet in particular was a star in two films that were hugely popular adaptations, Little Women and Dune, and Bones and All is not really anything like either of those films, although they're all excellent.

Reaction to the film on release was bewildered, at least outside of its first screenings outside of film festivals. Horror romance road trip movies are not something oft produced, especially not as sincerely as Bones and All. It didn't make its budget back at the box office and slipped out of theaters before it had a chance at making any award season waves that might have revived its reputation.

I have found very few films so suited to our current era. Against the backdrop of eighties Reagen-era decline, sprawling across the mid-west of the United States, cannibal outsiders struggle and survive, both together and apart.

The cannibalism in Bones and All is some sort of inherent trait, one that can physically be smelled by other 'eaters'. You have to eat. It is non-negotiable. It's a metaphor that can be interpreted several different ways: is it about sexuality? Familial cycles of violence? Is it about addiction? Moral decay behind the American facade of prosperity and strength? It can be all of these. It is all of these.

Similarly to Bones and All, Ethel Cain, the musical project of Hayden Anhedonia, deals in American decay, issues of identity and religion, and indeed, cannibalism. Her debut album, 2022's Preacher's Daughter tells the story of the titular Ethel Cain, a girl from a small Alabama town, who runs away from home after the flight of her lover and the death of her father, falling in with a stranger on a road tip to the west who eventually feeds her drugs, pimps her out, murders here, and cannibalizes her. It's stunningly self-assured for a debut, and the story already felt sprawling. Cain intends to release albums detailing the story of Ethel's mother and grandmother, and the dark secrets of the Cain family.

The small fanbase of Bones and All has major crossover with Cain's fans, even before the release of Famous Last Words. There are quite a few differences between these two stories. Bones and All doesn't explicitly deal with the religion as a central theme in the way that Cain's story covers, but they ask many of the same spiritual questions, and of course both have much to say using cannibalism.

It feels like these two pieces are bubbling just under the zeitgeist. Ethel Cain certainly became very popular on TikTok, following dates opening for Florence + The Machine, as well as being attached to the wildly growing exvangelical/religious deconstruction community that TikTok has uniquely fostered. Within a few months of Preacher's Daughter finally taking off (which was a few months after its quiet May release date), Bones and All was shown at the Venice Film Festival in September, and released widely in November. Shortly thereafter, fanedits began appearing on TikTok, taking nine-minute album standout Thoroughfare and syncing the clips to Bones and All.

Although there are certain themes and lyrics that fit so well with the film, for a single song in particular, Preacher's Daughter could very well become the Bones and All concept album. Thoroughfare is the track in which Ethel, far away from home but never far away from her past, is seen by Isaiah at the side of the road, and he offers her a ride in his truck. Isaiah is on a great American roadtrip to find the love of his life. The song details not only their journey to the coast, but also Ethel and Isaiah's strangers-to-lovers slowburn. This hits shockingly close to that of Bones and All, where Maren discovers Lee at a grocery store in Indiana, both recognizing each other as eaters. Lee asks where she's going, Maren says Minnesota, and she hops into his pickup truck to strike out together, and on the way, fall in love, head out west, spend time apart, and find each other again. The lyrics of Thoroughfare align so closely with this story that it's hard to believe one was made independently of the other.

The Isaiah in Thoroughfare may resemble Lee, but the Isaiah of the rest of the album is more reminiscent of the central antagonist of Bones and All, a sinister drifter named Sully, who meets Maren in her initial journey out into the world, and teaches her a few things about what it means to be an eater, but seems to have malicious intentions with her. After Maren flees from him, he begins stalking her across the country on her journey. Just when Maren and Lee might have found their place in the world, living peacefully in Ann Arbor, Sully breaks into their house, and attacks Maren as she returns home from work. Lee and Maren fight Sully off, killing and eating him, but Lee is critically injured in the fight, and asks Maren to eat him as he dies, and she does.

Isaiah and Sully both exploit the weakness of a young girl away from home for the first time, going to great lengths to dominate the chosen victim of their intentions, to the point of death. In Sully and Maren's final confrontation, he pins her to a bed, and we are unsure whether his next move is to eat her or to sexually assault her. It is deeply disturbing, and many viewers probably assume it will be both of these things. Likewise, in Preacher's Daughter, Isaiah dominates Ethel by feeding her drugs and pimping her out of the back of a strip club, eventually locking her in an attic, and after she makes an escape attempt, he shoots her in the woods, freezes her body, and later cannibalizes her. In fact, the entire rest of Preacher's Daughter following Thoroughfare details Isaiah's hold over Ethel, and her ascent to the afterlife where she looks back on what has happened to her.

Both Maren and Lee could be typified as an Ethel-like protagonist, two sides of the same coin. There's also similarity to be found in Lee's upbringing and Ethel's, both dealing with an abusive father that was complicit in cycles of violence, we later find out that Lee's father was also an eater, in addition to physically abusing Lee and his other family members. Lee ate his father to end the cycle of abuse.

There are also parallells between Maren and Ethel's matriarchal experiences with violence. While must has yet to be revealed about the Cain family women, Maren's cross country trip to find her mother ends in shocking fashion. Her mother, who voluntarily entered a mental institution, has eaten her own hands off to attempt to end her violence towards others. But because eaters must cannibalize to retain emotional and physical well-being, she is non-verbal and unwell when Maren finds her. She had written a letter while in better health, to be given to Maren if they ever found each other again, in which she expresses that Marne would be better off dead than existing in the world as an eater. There is an unending string of violence connecting childbirth and the raising of girls in a world that will never try to accomodate them between both Bones and All and Preacher's Daughter, a thread that specifically looks diffeernt than thee thread between a father and a son who are eaters. Indeed, Maren's final night in a normal world as a child is at a sleepover, a rite of passage of girlhood, that this violence given to her by her mother, ensures is her last.

It is remarkable that these two pieces, that recall aesthetic and emotional resonance so specific, could exist independently of one another, and come int the popular conscience at nearly the same time. Both sets of characters seem like they could exist in each other's stories.

Outside of the contents of their respective stories, public and critical reception to both of these pieces has seen some similarities unique to our position in post-pandemic 21st century. Critical reception to both Preacher's Daughter and Bones and All was very positive, glowing reviews for both, but the public audience was initially very small. Preacher's Daughter released in May but didn't gain TikTok traction on a wider scale until November/December of 2022, and Bones and All's wide release date in November was met with poor turnout, the movie quickly dropping to VOD services and out of theaters before award season campaigning might have been able to turn its public reception around.

But Bones and All gained a public reappraisal faster than many other films that have attained that status. Another recent movie that regained public exposure due to revaluation, Jennifer's Body, which weirdly is also about a man-eating woman, took a decade to have its moment in the sun. Bones and All was re-appraised within a year of its release, and is finding its cult fanbase much faster. Many who missed the film during its initial release have found it on streaming services and were surprised that they could have missed it.

This resurgence is not without a few drawbacks, ones that Preacher's Daughter is constantly plagued by in public discussion. When the public is confronted by a piece of art that has much to say, and is deeply sincere with those intentions, it is easy to divert those intense emotions by creating a culture of memes and jokes surrounding it. This has been oft-debated in relation to Ethel Cain's rise in popularity, this deeply felt album that deals with grave subject matter, not limited to parental sexual abuse, religious trauma, assault, and cycles of pain, is often reduced to Meemaw jokes and putting the album's signature ballad, A House in Nebraska, over any pictures of celebrities wearing vaguely old-fashioned looking clothes. A semi-joking campaign to get Preacher's Daughter released on vinyl turned into a silly meme-phrase often left in the comments of any Ethel Cain instagram post. Hayden herself has discussed this public reception in recent interviews, expressing some frustration with it, noting that people will occasionally heckle her with the jokes mid-performance at her shows or otherwise devalue something that she performs and produces very sincerely. In an attempt to discourage this behavior, she has since cut back on being a "relatable social media personality" and limited her interaction on her long active Tumblr account in particular.

Bones and All has received similar treatment on social media as part of its public resurgence. Many TikTok user's first exposure to the film was Lee's confession of eating his father being turned into a meme audio that users sync'd to jokey videos about something much more tame than patricide. And as with Ethel, the tinges of stan culture started to seep in, edits of Lee by Timothee Chalamet stan accounts filling any search for the film on media outlets.

None of these silly videos or thirst tweets are morally reprehensible, or even that bad, but it is interesting that when confronted with works that tell stories dealing with intense violence, both emotional and physical, a large portion of people responded with lighthearted jokes that de-escalate the emotions both creators might have hoped to achieve with their works.

It's also worth noting that Bones and All and Preacher's Daughter present an aesthetic that is hard to sell as aspirational. They both present a world in decline, rusty pickup trucks, the beauty and the desolation of wide open spaces (per Hayden, several Ethel Cain visual inspirations are inspired by Andrew Wyeth's gorgeous and lonely paintings), wood paneled walls like the kind in your grandma's basement, hunting camo, and a sort of working class sensibility that can easily be replicated, but is not so easily authentic by anyone who has never experienced living in a food desert. Much has been made of the resurgence of Southern Gothic, a storytelling mode that is inextricably tied to poverty and unpalatable characters. Preacher's Daughter is perhaps the most popular in the current crop of pieces that are focusing on the southern gothic, which perenially comes back into fashion during times of hardship and insecurity. Bones and All ties itself to many of southern gothic's tropes, and there is certianly an emphasis on poverty and those living on the fringes, even if regionally it's all over the place. In our current social media era, it is hard to separate aesthetic enjoyment from consumption. It's easy to find users giving Preacher's Daughter perfume recommendations, or thrift store hauls inspired by Maren and Lee's cobbled together wardrobes. And again, this isn't a necessarily a moral wrongdoing, just a reaction that is somewhat at odds with the stories and themes present in these particular works.

But ultimately, the cultural landscape is richer for having these pieces in them, and those that resonated with them cherish these stories deeply. It is serendipitous that Preacher's Daughter and Bones and All exist in a time where they can be enjoyed and studied in tandem. They are both stories so suited for our current era: violent, unsure, frightening, but yearning for beauty and those that can travel this landscape alongside one another.

#ethel cain #bones and all #famous last words #essay #literary essay #zine #fan zine #music #film

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randomfoggytiger · 1 year

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Updated! X-Files Mulder Trauma Responses: Fight, Flight, Freeze, or Fawn?

I've seen various takes on Mulder's and Scully's trauma and stress responses; and I wanted to autopsy the issue carefully to reach a conclusion. We're focusing solely on Mulder here-- but! Scully will get her own post in future.

Kitsunegari Sums Up Mulder's Trauma Responses in One Scene

Mulder is too late to stop "Scully" from pulling the trigger against her temple, screaming in agony as she drops to the ground, "dead."

He then cycles through all of his First and Secondary Trauma Responses (will be discussed below):

Running up in horror, then plastering a smile in sickening denial--

Mulder attempts to feel a pulse. There is none. Scully is dead.

His grief overwhelms him-- an aggravated and more violent (if shorter) version of his sorrow in Redux II-- scrabbling at her scalp and shoulders, silently screaming into her face, before turning away so as not to vomit.

He mentally starts to drift;

but denial-- denial, denial, denial-- holds sway as he pops his head back up, reenergized,

vainly feeling for a pulse once again, eyes desperately and obsessively focused on his partner.

There is no hope.

Mulder is now losing all control, probably gearing up to an epic meltdown of Biblical proportions-- heavy breathing, desperate eyes, nothing to grasp at or solve or hold onto--

when he hears a noise. A reprieve. A focus. An enemy.

Furious, he snatches a gun and levels it at Linda Bowman, spitting in his fury

...but doesn't fire.

And allows "Bowman" to talk him down.

And further, when "Linda" fires, Mulder flinches, puts his gun up as he dissociates (looks down to his mid-left)-- freezes, if you will-- and doesn't fight back, expecting to die.

This is Mulder's Trauma Responses in full: Freeze-Fight.

He will also begin to repeat this cycle in Milagro (if shorter-- because Scully pops up, alive, sooner.)

Why Mulder Is Primarily a Freeze Type

I'm going to include this entire segment from Pete Walker's Complex CPTSD: From Surviving to Thriving (see notes at the bottom for more info) because it's such a powerful piece of Mulder-psyche that it should stand on its own:

"A Freeze Response is triggered when a person, realizing resistance is futile, gives up, numbs out into dissociation, and/or collapses, as if accepting the inevitability of being hurt.... The Freeze Response, also known as the Camouflage Response, also triggers a survivor into hiding, isolating, and avoiding human contact.

The Freeze Type can be so frozen in the retreat mode that is seems as if their "Starter" button is stuck in the "off" position.

Off all the four Fs, Freeze Types seem to have the deepest and conscious belief that 'people' and 'danger' are synonymous.

While all 4 F Types commonly suffer from social anxiety as well, Freeze Types typically take a great deal more refuge in solitude.

Some Freeze Types completely give up on relating to others and become extremely isolated. Outside of fantasy, many also give up entirely on the possibility of love."

These Types have learned from a young age that fighting back will only get you punished and that fleeing will only get you reprimanded; so, they collapse inwardly instead. Dissociation becomes the name of the game, coasting through life without being attached to it, accepting its blows and distracting themselves from reality with either fantasy or the pursuit of a fantastical idea they want to achieve.

Frank Spotnitz said it best when he reflected on Mulder's character growth and seeking 'The Truth': ""You can't get the truth. You can't. There's a larger truth, though: that you can't harness the forces of the cosmos, but you may find somebody else. You may find another human being. That may be kind of corny and all of that, but that's really it: Love is the only truth we can hope to know, as human beings. That's what Mulder and Scully found after nine years. And that's a lot."

But what about those moments when Mulder runs at danger, demanding answers and yelling down the sky?

**Edit: This is the section i had to refurbish based on proper research.**

Secondary Trauma Responses develop when circumstances are so extreme that a person's initial trauma response is not removing them from danger fast enough; and they then develop a second polar opposite response in the hopes that this will help. More often than not, it simply becomes a ping-pong whiplash between one extreme to the other. The four Hybrids are Fight-Fawn, Fight-Freeze, and Flight-Freeze. In Mulder's case, if he stays frozen for too long he will very quickly become very dead; thus, Mulder developed a secondary response: Flight.

Freeze-Flight (or Flight-Freeze-- potato, potatoh) Types

Below is an excerpt from Pete Walker, but it's so completely Mulder that I have nothing else to add:

"The Flight-Freeze Type is the least relational, most schizoid hybrid. He prefers the safety of "do it yourself" isolationism. The Fight-Fleeze Type avoids potential relationship traumatization with an obsessive-compulsive dissociative two-step. Step One is working to complete exhaustion. Step Two is collapsing into extreme vegging out and waiting until his energy reaccumulates enough to relaunch into Step One. The price for this time of no-longer-necessary safety is a severely narrowed existence."

(**Note for the below paragraph: the author is not talking about alpha/beta in the current, dilapidated vernacular. Think of it as an academic term describing more aggressive or assertive behavior as compared to more passive or dismissive behavior.)

"The Flight-Freeze cul-de-sac is more common among men, especially those traumatized for being vulnerable in childhood. This then drives them to seek safety in isolation, or "intimacy lite" relationships. Some non-alpha type male survivors combine their flight-freeze defenses to become stereotypical technology nerds. Telecommuting is, of course, their preferred modes.

Flight-Freeze Types are the computer addicts who focus on work long periods of time and then drift off dissociatively into computer games, substance abuse, or sleep binging. FF Types are prone to becoming porn addicts: when in Flight mode, they obsessively surf the net for phantom partners and engage in compulsive masturbation. When in Freeze mode, they drift off into Right-Brain sexual fantasy world if pornography is unavailable. Moreover, if they are an intimacy-light relationship, they typically engage more in with their idealized fantasy partners than with their actual partner during real-time sexual interactions."

An interesting note: these types are often misdiagnosed with Aspergers Syndrome, which explains why some fans theorize that an Oxford graduate-FBI field agent might be on the spectrum (Mulder isn't: it's a symptom of him coping very, VERY badly.)

Mulder's Freeze-Flight response kicked in sometime after his sister's abduction, since his primary Freeze response "prevented" him from saving her (even if he couldn't do anything to help.)

Since then, Mulder has buried all trauma or deep emotion in the bowels of his work in the basement, printing them out as X-Files to brand his work as his life.

For all of Mulder's talk about disliking others for dismissing something that cannot be explained, labeled, or categorized, when he can't do it himself, he goes berserk: first freezing, horrified, before he launches with righteous fury into his work, demanding answers and running himself ragged.

A potent demonstration of Mulder's yo-yo-ing Freeze-Flight Response is the Russian Roulette showdown in Pusher: Mulder more readily accepts his own death than Scully, terrified but determinedly compliant... until she becomes the next target of Modell's mind games.

It's a pattern that has already been established since her abduction, and which repeats for her cancer (and every perilous moment after and in-between.)

An important

There are countless examples where Mulder disconnects from reality in the face of great grief, ala his father's death, CSM and Diana Fowley's oily plan in One Son, and-- especially-- his mother's suicide.

In all these instances, Mulder immediately ran into work mode, trying move the world by force and come up with an explanation-- any-- to make everything right. When he is forced to sit and deal with tragic loss, his Flight peters out, leading him back to square one: an unhealthy Freeze Response.

Luckily for him, Scully is a stable, reliable support; and coaxes him into properly grieving by not sugarcoating the Truth, thereby helping him turn into healthier coping mechanisms (if he wants to use them-- he doesn't in Paper Hearts, but he does in Sein und Zeit. Baby steps.)

In short: Mulder is a Freeze-then-Flight man.

Why Mulder Isn't a Fight, Flight, or Fawn Type

To make quick work of this, I'll rely mainly on Pete Walker quotes again and add my commentary after his statements:

"A Fight [Trauma] Response is triggered when a person suddenly responds aggressively to something threatening.... Fight Types are unconsciously driven by the belief that power and control can create safety, assuage abandonment, and secure love." Extreme Fight Types often become bullies or narcissists to their loved ones as well as their enemies if left unchecked. They are demanding, demeaning, and punishing, equating strength as exerted power over someone weaker. They usually grew up in homes where they had to fight back against physical abuse or protect others from it. This translates to a bitter outlook on the world, always suspicioning the motives of others in cruel or judgmental ways.

(Note: Not much of the above is directly related to Bill Scully-- or Bill Mulder, even, see my previous post about him here-- but his natural bent is Fight above the other 3 F Types. Doesn't mean he's a bully or a narcissist; just that those would be his extremes.)

As we have seen through the entire series, Mulder as an atypical American masculine archetype: he does not resort to violence, preferring to save victims and even villains, willing to give everyone a second chance (and, by extension, giving backstabbers a clear target for their next strike.) The only time he has exerted violence over another was as a last possible extreme to stop a threat (shooting Modell, shooting the Peacock brothers, shooting Schnauz, shooting Roche, etc.)

Back to Walker:

"A Flight Response is triggered when a person responds to a perceived threat by fleeing; or, symbolically, by launching into hyperactivity. .... Extreme Flight Types are like machines with a switch stuck in the 'on' position. They are obsessively and compulsively driven by the unconscious belief that perfection will make them safe and loveable. They rush to achieve. They rush as much in thought in action, compulsion."

I will be talking about this response a little bit more in a follow-up post; but the core with this character is their ability to distract themselves from their problems into oblivion. Mulder's pains and sorrows and traumas are a constant of his life, eating away at his heart and shoving themselves in his face every day. The difference between his obsessive work ethic and a Flight Type's work ethic is the motivator: he is dabbling in his fantasy, building empires from ideas and discovering new kingdoms with every possibility; while Flight Types have ceased to function at all, robotically going from task to task until they overload or shut down.

And, lastly, back to Walker for the Fawn Trauma Response:

"Fawn Response is triggered when a person responds to threat by trying to be pleasing or helpful in order to appease and forestall an attacker.... Fawn types seek safety by merging with the wishes, needs, and demands of others. They act as if they believe that the price of admission to any relationship is the forfeiture of all their needs, rights, preferences, and boundaries. The disenfranchisement of the Fawn Type begins in childhood... learns early that a modicum of safety and attachment can be gained by becoming the helpful and compliant servant of... exploitive parents." (As an aside, this Type is also formed from having at least one narcissistic parent.)

While Mulder is often used by those around him, he never loses the core of who he is to their abuse: when Phoebe comes knocking, he may set aside the case to (try to) get some hotel action; but he's still self-aware of his and her actions, disentangled enough to self-deprecatingly (and knowingly) smirk when he catches her red-handed with another man. When his father or mother weave in and out of his life with their soft or outspoken demands, he doesn't bend from the Truth, risking his relationships continually for It. He is willing to tell Scully to her face she is lying to him; and he is willing to sacrifice what new closeness they've achieved if he believes she's being purposefully blind or obtuse. Mulder, while reliant on Scully as his human credential, is not co-dependent on her: he can stand on his own two feet, even if she were to walk out of his life. The wounds would go deep; but he would dissociate from life (like he had in Little Green Men) not erode away completely.

(As an aside, that's why probably why Mulder would have committed suicide in Gethsemane but not during the Break Up Years TM. Post IWTB Scully, while she had walked away from their life together, was still a part of his reality; whereas, S4 Scully would have been dead, deceased, gone from existence... and Mulder could never escape that, no matter how much he dissociated from it.)

How Mulder Can Use His Freeze Response Healthy

In a nutshell, a person should work through their traumas so they can pick among the 4 Trauma Responses for the healthiest outcome in each situation: Fight for healthy boundaries, Flight for healthy retreat and perseverance, Freeze for healthy awareness and distanced assessment, and Fawn for healthy assertive listening and peacemaking. Unhealthy childhoods create fixations on one of these four; and it takes a while to learn the patterns and triggers in one's life and how to manage them.

For Mulder, he grew exponentially through the years, becoming less detached and more engaged with "life on this planet" (growing from a sarcastic S1 recluse to a more emotionally honest person in S2 to a more openly supportive person in S3 to a transformed heart-on-his-sleeve man in S4-5 to someone who can find joy in S6 and peace in S7 and recreation in S8. Is there canon after that?) So, as it stands, he's doing just fine. Because if one truly searches for the Truth it might not be aliens: it might just be a whole, happy life and how to enjoy it.

And there you have it, folks!

Scully will get her own follow up, soonish (though if you don't want to wait that long, she's a pretty obvious *spoiler* Flight Type. No one's really surprised because of what happened in Fight the Future.)

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

*Note*: There are four main trauma Responses: Fight, Flight, Freeze, and Fawn (taken from the book Complex CPTSD: From Surviving to Thriving by Pete Walker-- see Disclaimers section below for info.) In short: Fight Types responds to stress by physical intimidation or verbal bullying; Flight Types run as far as they can from danger or distract themselves from it as much as possible; Freeze Types disassociate, seeing fight and flight as futile and becoming numb to life; Fawn Types try to win favor from their oppressor, leaning co-dependently on others.

**Note**: Most of the information was obtained from Complex PTSD: From Surviving to Thriving by Pete Walker, a private counselor and lecturer for thirty-five years. As a victim of CPTSD himself, he made a study of its victims and helped craft a system for CPTSD recoverees to understand themselves and progressively heal. (Highly recommend his book-- excellent.)

***Note***: I will ghost edit later. Brb.

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satoshi-mochida · 3 days

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Boyhood’s End launches in Early Access on September 6 - Gematsu

From Gematsu

Episodic science-fiction horror adventure game Boyhood’s End will launch in Early Access for PC via Steam on September 6, publishers WSS playground and PLAYISM, and developer Bukiri Clock announced.

The Early Access version of the game features about 20 percent of the full story. The game is planned to have five chapters, with each chapter releasing one-by-one during Early Access. Once the story is complete, final adjustments will be made based on conversations with the community and a full version will be released. The Early Access period will last for around 10 months.

Here is an overview of the game, via its Steam page:

About

When does childhood end? Both humans and the inhuman will find the answer at the end of a cycle of fight and flight. Solve puzzles and explore the world, depicted in hand-drawn pixel art. Watch beautifully animated conversations between the main characters. Join a young boy on his adventure and experience his story set in a hardcore sci-fi world. Boyhood’s End is a juvenile science fiction horror adventure game, in which the world is ruled by a mechanical overlord “R. Karellen.” Every aspect of every person’s life is rated with a “human score,” and R. Karellen decides everything from academic and professional careers, romantic interests, to one’s daily meals. The protagonist, Giovanni, has the lowest human score among the entire human race. Every day, he receives “special treatment” for everything including his meals and classes. On top of that, he gets bullied relentlessly by his classmates at the School, both in real life and online. But one day, everything and everyone in the school starts attacking Giovanni, trying to “remake” him and raise his human score by making him “more human.” A senior student, the famously eccentric genius Campanella, reaches out to Giovanni, and they hop onto (and take over) a driverless train on the galactic railroad. And so, Giovanni gets swept up in a journey to find the “Crimson Southern Cross,” located at the farthest edge of the universe. On their journey, the boys will meet great leaders of the past and pull reckless and destructive “pranks” on them all. Through their encounters with the history, twisted mysteries, and various horrors of the world, they will eventually have to confront the end of their own childhood. Oh, did you hear that? The boys are (pointlessly) sounding the train whistle. Looks like it’s time for the galactic express to depart.

Characters

-Giovanni

“Shut up! I couldn’t care less about your twisted logic, but here’s the thing, I’m a human! And you’d better start treating me like one!”

Has a wanted criminal as a father and the lowest human score in the universe. Gets treated like trash by other people and even the system itself. Has a cynical personality and a sharp tongue, but has a soft spot for his family. Always has to earn money to pay his sister’s hospital fees. Although he lives in an age where humans haven’t had to write programs by themselves for generations, Giovanni knows the ancient craftsman technique of writing his own code from scratch. He frequently uses his coding skills to do shady side gigs on the dark web.

-Campanella

“Come on, show me! Show me the true potential of humanity! Show me something unpredictable, something that could ruin the world as we know it—something a man-made thing could never do!”

Has the highest human score in the Gymnasium, and very talented in everything from academics to sports, but also has the highest total score deduction in the Gymnasium due to his frequent eccentric behavior. Talk about extreme. Campanella holds “humans” in high regard, and acts arrogantly around the inhuman and artificially intelligent R. However, many claim to have seen him chatting and playing around with R for no reason in particular.

Watch a new trailer below.

Worldview Trailer

English

youtube

Japanese

youtube

Korean

youtube

#Boyhood’s End #WSS Playground #Playism #Bukiri Clock #adventure game #Gematsu #Youtube

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trustdrum · 2 years

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Polybius rom snes

#POLYBIUS ROM SNES TRIAL#

"The world mourns, as on days like these we are all Brits." Read the original story (opens in new tab) Fallout 3 predicts the future Of course, whether or not the game will channel the spirits of your deceased loved ones remains to be seen. More than just a ROM hack, NES Godzilla Creepypasta is a complete rebuild of the original game that incorporates the same plot points and imagery of the original story. A massive screen shot gallery corroborates his claims, showing off the game's corrupt, pixelated horror.īut this is just some flight of fancy, right pure fiction? Not anymore thanks to developer Iuri Nery (opens in new tab), who is working on turning this internet horror story into a reality. In this twisted version of the game, enemies take on strange new appearances, bizarre personality questions are posed to the player, and gradually the author becomes convinced the game is speaking directly to him. This epic is easily the longest entry on this list - a sprawling, eight-chapter sojurne into one man's seemingly possessed copy of Godzilla for the NES. "In their place was a single bit of text in the middle of the screen that said "RUN." Read the original story (opens in new tab) The haunted NES Godzilla game is more real than you realize Replay this cult classic with an eye for the abnormal and you might be surprised. But the best evidence of an alternate Evermore comes from a single screenshot (opens in new tab) with the dialogue box, "How can you live with what you've done? Those poor children." This line doesn't appear in the final game, and there's no context for what it could be referencing. Supposedly, the game had a much darker story and tone, remnants of which can still be found in the final game - most notably in the foreboding opening title crawl (opens in new tab). But was this always the case? Games can change a lot during development and - according to one source - Evermore changed drastically before its final release. Such is the backdrop of Secret of Evermore, a 1995 role-playing game for the SNES that married JRPG action with a distinctly American sense of humor. When your game stars a Marty McFly lookalike, a transforming dog, and is filled with cheesy B-movie references, it's hard to take things too seriously. "How can you live with what you've done? Those poor children." Read the original story (opens in new tab) Secret of Evermore originally had a much darker tone But when he traveled to that point - located in northern California - Pale Luna's sinister intentions were revealed.

#POLYBIUS ROM SNES TRIAL#

Your only companion is Pale Luna, whose message repeats "PALE LUNA SMILES WIDE." After a great deal of trial and error one player managed to solve this maze, and received a set of longitude and latitude coordinates for his trouble. If this was your typical adventure game you'd probably have to escape the room using an esoteric combination of gold and shovels, but Pale Luna is hardly typical.Īttempting to use the shovel results in "Not now" while using the rope gives you an ominous "You've already used that." Gradually, players head east into the woods, where they endlessly cycle between the four cardinal directions. Moonlight shines through the window." There's some gold, a shovel, and some rope nearby, along with a door to the east. Your quest begins innocently enough: "You are in a dark room. Pale Luna is an enigmatic, text-based adventure game in the vein of Zork and The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.

#Polybius rom snes

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paradoxumfilum · 4 years

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Now, one of the tropes that I do like is the whole. Lets observe Earth and see what these humans are like. Wait, oh shit, run away they’re terrifying. Kinda trope. Heres a little piece based around this.

***

System X551b had been known about for over 600,000 cycles, it had quickly been deemed a death world. Inhabited by monstrous reptilian creatures with no coherent thoughts that attacked any delegations that landed on the world. These creatures combined with the unstable surface, extreme weather and such variances in temperature between the poles, led to the classification and warning to stay away.

But recently, within the last cycle the planet started to do something strange. It started, screaming? A wall of incoherent noise came from the planet, the kind associated with unshielded radio communication. But the last check on the planet around 500 cycles ago showed no developed species, there was life for sure but nothing to develop radio technology. That and the fact all know species took at least 1000 cycles to even begin to develop the technology. Research vessel 1076 was assigned to do an expedited scan of the planet.

***

Equipped with advanced shielding and scanners vessel 1076 approached the third plant from the start of system X551b. Preliminary scans showed higher numbers of debris than the previous scans of the planet. This is nothing to be concerned about, most likely asteroid debris. Thought Vrax, the lead science officer. Let me try a surface imaging scan, that piece of land looks suitable.

Vrax initiated the imaging scan, the piece of land Vrax had chosen happened to be Florida. It also happened to be mid-June, 1969.

Looking at the readouts Vrax was astonished. Terraforming on a huge scale and primitive construction could be seen on the surface. The planet seemed to be inhabited by these strange bi-pedal creatures. Frantically he woke the rest of the five man crew, their readings could not wait till they were in an established orbit. There clearly was intelligent life and they seemed mightily advanced for their age.

***

July 16th 1969

After many rotations of the planet and multiple scans later the workload on the crew of vessel 1076 had not lessened. These creatures, humans they called themselves, seemed to only have been around for less than 400 cycles. In this time they had advanced rapidly. According to Kremble much of this advancement had only occurred in the last 50 or so cycles.

Kremble was on duty when an alert went off. This was no normal alert, it was the anti-collision alert. Reading the alert it said there was an object coming from the surface of the planet that was on a collision course. Krembles eyes widened, From the surface, impossible!, he thought. Setting all available scanners to focus on this object Kremble shouted for Vrax.

Quickly an image started to form, then readings started to trickle in. The image was of a long tube, mostly white with some black markings, riding what seemed to be a pillar of fire? Other readings said the plume of smoke contained traces of hydrocarbons and oxygen, the tube itself was made from various metals. The most concerning reading was the one saying that there were three of these humans somewhere near the top of this tube, and experiencing prolonged exposure to forces 4 times greater than that of the surface.

“Why are there humans in this bomb?” Asked Vrax.

“I have no idea sir, I don’t know where that thing is going either. Those humans won’t be able to survive in vacuum, this if they survive the forces they’re being exposed to. You know as well as anyone that no known species can survive forces 4 times their planets surfaces for only a brief period of time” said Kremble, “Currently they’ve been exposed for twice the recorded maximum exposure time”

Vrax and Kremble watched on with various stages of wonderment and horror as they watched this tube climb out of the planets atmosphere, orbit once and then make a burn into space.

With a small voice Kremble said “Sir, I think what these humans just have demonstrated is that they’ve mastered primitive space flight within 70 orbits of their star from discovering flight. That is almost as terrifying as an intelligent species on a death world.”

Looking at Kremble with a face of horror Vrax replied, “I think it’s time we told the Galactic empire what we’ve found. They need to know...”

What then precedes in the next few orbits of the planet is a frantic compiling of reports to be delivered to the Galactic Empire. Vrax prioritises the translation of the most common languages in the tasking.

***

A few rotations of the planet later and the tube that left the planets surface had arrived at the planets moon. A small craft had descended to the moons surface and the crew of 1076 were listening into the communications from this craft. Watching from the orbit of the planet they saw a figure exit the craft and step onto the surface of the moon. From the moon they heard, “That’s one small step for man, but one giant leap for mankind”

#creative writing #earth is space australia #humans are space orcs #space australia #scifi story #humans are strange #humans are terrifying

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helpingwithhealing · 3 years

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Understanding Fight, Flight, Freeze & Fawn Response

Another possible response to trauma.

Most people have some level of awareness of PTSD, particularly as it applies to people returning from war zones in the Middle East. PTSD was also evident in other soldiers returning from battle in the past, but there was limited recognition of the changes brought about by severe trauma in these earlier wars.

Today, research into the brain's response to trauma has created an awareness of PTSD across a wide range of life events. This includes seeing and experiencing the horror of wars, but also for first responders, victims of crime, and people exposed to single incidents of trauma or ongoing trauma throughout their life.

The most well-known responses to trauma are the fight, flight, or freeze responses. However, there is a fourth possible response, the so-called fawn response. Flight includes running or fleeing the situation, fight is to become aggressive, and freeze is to literally become incapable of moving or making a choice.

The fawn response involves immediately moving to try to please a person to avoid any conflict. This is often a response developed in childhood trauma, where a parent or a significant authority figure is the abuser. Children go into a fawn-like response to attempt to avoid the abuse, which may be verbal, physical, or s*xual, by being a pleaser. In other words, they preemptively attempt to appease the abuser by agreeing, answering what they know the parent wants to hear, or by ignoring their personal feelings and desires and do anything and everything to prevent the abuse.

Over time, this fawn response becomes a pattern. Individuals carry this behavior pattern into their adult relationships, including their professional and personal interactions.

Recognizing the Fawn Response:

As the fawn response is developed in early childhood, it can be difficult for an individual to recognize it is occurring. However, there are some key signs that the fawn response is in use when:

* You look to others for how you feel in a relationship or situation

* It is difficult to identify your feelings, even when you are alone

* You often feel like you have no identity

* You are constantly trying to please the people in your life

* At the first sign of conflict, your first instinct is to appease the angry person

* You ignore your own beliefs, thoughts, and truths and accept those of the people around you

* You may experience unusual emotional responses when issues do not involve people of importance in your life. This could include emotional outbursts at strangers or sudden sadness throughout the day.

* You feel self-anger and guilt some or most of the time

* Saying no to those around you is a challenge

* You are overwhelmed at times but take on more if asked

* You lack boundaries and are often taken advantage of in relationships

* You are uncomfortable or threatened when asked to give an opinion

The fawn response is often not discussed in PTSD as it may be seen as simply part of the personality of the individual. However, it goes beyond a collaborative and non-competitive personality.

Individuals with the fawn response pattern can be targeted by those who are narcissistic or those with a desire to control and manipulate people around them. In these situations, the fawn response creates a dangerous cycle with the narcissist demanding more and more of the individual with PTSD feeling greater levels of anger, guilt, and self-reproach for giving their emotional and physical all to the partner.

Getting Help:

Trauma, including PTSD, can be treated effectively through therapeutic interventions. Working closely with a therapist trained in the treatment of PTSD is essential to understand the cause of the trauma and to process the past and be able to move forward.

Through therapy, individuals who use this type of response as their default way to deal with others can learn effective strategies to create and maintain boundaries, to talk about their feelings and emotions, and to learn how to interact with others without feeling the need to constantly please.

#trauma #ptsd #fight or flight #mental health #healing #ptsd symptoms #ptsd support

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edithmaslow · 3 years

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okay so because this is an important thing to edith’s main verse ... under the cut is a synopsis of the screenplay from which i have taken edith. tws include: brief self-unalive mention, cheating, religion, violence, horror, abuse, & some general blood/gore/horror stuff.

essentially the set up is that daniel, edith’s boyfriend, is driving them somewhere. where isn’t really important, but they’re going on a vacation somewhere. edith has been playing navigator, referring to the gps. things start to get odd when the gps instructs them to turn left, where there is nowhere to go. the road stretches on almost endlessly, looping over & over. after a bit, edith & daniel get into an argument over her discovery of him sexting another girl. this ends with her throwing his phone out of the moving vehicle, & him storming out to get the phone. he never comes back. there’s a strange encounter with a farmer who tells edith to leave, & we see our first bit of the big bad who’s title i’m not sure of yet. he chases her into the woods that line the road, where she sees daniel on a flight of stairs. she runs up the stairs, where he no longer is, & jumps off into a different reality.

she lands in a swamp, whose water is filled with blind feminine monsters (see also: former victims) with claws that try to drag her down into the water. she runs through numerous realities, all of which can be seen as allegories to different traumas she has dealt with:

a forest on fire, in which she has to walk backwards to get to the door she clearly sees

her childhood home, where she is (apparently) ten again, & forced to watch something that becomes less & less like her mother kill itself over and over, trying to get her to do the same (possibly a generational cycle of letting in abusive men/destructive behavior)

a library with monsters that are these large, hunched beings who burn to touch

a lush, wooded area with a small child who has a treehouse full of corpses & a friend in the lasowik, a creature covered in antlers & weilding a trident

a run-down church playground with a violently heretical clergy

the recurring red inn, which is the big bad’s hq

a maze that closes up on her, becoming smaller & narrower till she is essentially in a makeshift wooden coffin

the beach, which is a safe place. she receives incredibly vague advice from a fully healed version of herself, who gives her the almost-tagline: “you won’t drown by getting into that water. you drown by staying there.”

through these (and others), she discovers that the big bad has been doing this for close to a century: seducing and killing girls in his sick cycle of horrors. after her picture on his wall, she sees the girl who daniel was sexting. daniel is the one who has done this. she cycles through a few more horrors, determined; when she finally returns to the inn after realizing who she’s up against, it’s a battle of life or death. she has him on the ropes, pinned underneath her & disarmed, when he tries to convince her it was all a test. that she was powerful, & the two of them could live forever together if she worked with him.

“ while i appreciate it, babe, i just don’t think this is gonna work out. it’s not me, it’s you. you just have ... so much baggage. ” using his own weapon, she swings & splits his skull. she keeps swinging until the building starts to crumble around her -- without the puppetmaster, the different pocket realities are falling apart. she cycles through strange combinations of realities, running up & down stairs or through doors until she emerges in the woods where she started. she doesn’t stop running until she reaches daniel’s truck, with the keys still in the ignition. shell-shocked & covered in blood both her own & her boyfriend’s, she drives herself home. the movie ends with her pulling into the driveway of her apartment, opening the door to exactly what should be there. she’s stopped the cycle.

a lot of the purpose of this story is edith exploring her unknown fears / traumas, including coming to terms with the horrible way daniel treated her even before they started dating. this story is really important to me, because i formed the initial concept with my own shitty ex, which brought to light a lot of problems i Also have; i’ve taken the story & made it my own, developed the characters & scenarios far beyond what the first draft was. if you’ve read this far, thank you so much. hopefully i can finish the screenplay sometime soon.

#» * facts.#» * out.#suicide ment /#violence ment /#abuse ment /#ask to tag /#religion ment /#do not at all feel obligated to read all of this but if u do i love u #» * lore.

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meetthetank · 3 years

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Beast Code Chapter 1: The Twilit City

Rating: Mature Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Category: F/M Fandom: NieR: Automata (Video Game) Relationship: 2B/9S (NieR: Automata) Characters: 2B (NieR: Automata), 9S (NieR: Automata), Original YoRHa Characters (NieR: Automata) Additional Tags: Transformation, gothic horror, Android Lycanthropy...sort of, Inspired by Bloodborne (Video Game), Everyday i get closer to just writing a Bloodborne AU

Summary: Break the vicious cycle with tooth and claw. Unleash the beast within and destroy your chains. But the strength to defy fate comes at a grave cost. Will it be enough, little doll? Or will you succumb to despair once more?

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31546982

The assignment to the Twilight Belt comes as a shock to 2B and 9S. Rarely, if ever, are YorHa units sent to this border of perpetual daylight and eternal night. Conditions are always reported as unstable by the infrequent scans by one of the other satellite bases that orbit earth, too dangerous to deploy scanners by themselves, and too depleted of resources for the Council to care about. The mystery surrounding the strip of permanent twilight goads curious operators and scanners alike to comb through files searching for nuggets of data, image or video files, anything they can get their hands on. All but a few pieces of data reveal tantalizing scraps and clues to the puzzle of the Sunset Belt. Photographs of dead machines with toothy, gaping maws that split their spherical heads in two and minerals warped in peculiar shapes. According to one of the situation reports from a scanner that had been sent there, there was an eerie, foreboding feeling about the place; that strange and frightening sounds would echo across the landscape and that he felt close to a forbidden barrier that separated this world from another. Though the file and its contents are now treated as a human “ghost story”, many androids, including 2B and 9S, believe at least some portion of the tale.

9S relays this story to 2B as they descend to Earth’s surface, his chattering easing some of 2B’s trepidation. The pair had fallen into an easy rhythm over the course of several assignments to Earth, most of which involved retrieving data from lost servers buried in rubble or clearing out an area of machine lifeforms. Despite her outwardly cold demeanor, 9S wormed his way past all of her defenses, forming a strong, solid relationship with the battler android. His voice is a centering point for her and assists in ignoring the gut churning possibilities of what could be waiting for them below.

“...What do you think, 2B?” his voice crackles from the comms system inside her flight unit.

“Hm?” she shifts her head to the side, glancing at his jet black flight unit cruising beside hers.

“What do you think made the target go rogue?”

She bites her lower lip. There are a thousand possible answers as to why a normally punctual, efficient YorHa Battle unit would suddenly stop responding to command and not checking in at required times. Only a few of those options were machine lifeform related complications.

“We’ll find out when we arrive, 9S.” she says curtly, eager to shut down the conversation, “Focus on landing protocol.”

He sighs, a sound of annoyance and frustration, “Yeah, yeah.”

“One affirmation will-”

“Fiiiiiiiine.”

The final phase of their descent is spent in silence. They pass through the Earth’s atmosphere in streaks of fire and light towards the border of day and night, and a continent that humans called Europe. Even as they descend, the outlines of ancient, massive structures come into view. Both androids are used to the thick vegetation eating away at the remains of human structures, but here the trees are gnarled, twisted, and void of leaves or blossoms. Their branches reach to the crimson sky and permanently setting sun like bony hands in prayer or a stag’s antlers. As 2B and 9S set their flight units down a few miles away from the outskirts of a sprawling, ancient city. It amazes 9S, as he exits his own unit, that the buildings are in such good condition considering the millenia that have passed it by. Great spires of countless cathedrals pierce the heavens, casting an ominous, looming shadow over the otherwise barren landscape. A well worn cobblestone road, lined with rusted iron lighting fixtures long since burnt out, leads into the city proper.

2B and 9S stand at the precipice of this ancient beast of stone and metal in awe of its size, and terrified of what might lurk within. A hoarse bird’s caw, jolts the androids back into awareness, 2B drawing her katana and prepares for battle.

“Heh,” 9S laughs, trying to calm them both down, “Just a raven, 2B.”

“What?”

“A large black bird. Harmless to us.” He doesn’t tell her about the chill he gets down his spine as he watches the corvid gaze down at them with beady black eyes, or how humans saw these birds as ill omens or prophets of death.

They begin the trek into the forgotten city. 2B doesn’t put Virtuous Contract away.

Pod 042 alerts 2B to the presence of an unidentifiable android signal, marking the location on both hers and 9S’ map. Since the area has yet to be properly mapped out by satellite imagery (as inaccurate as that process is) only a vague street layout is available through a very low power scan. They have no way of judging what might block their path to the target beyond featureless grey masses depicting buildings, rubble, large trees, or whatever else may lie in wait. Their target, represented by a small orange dot on the map, appears to be near the city’s main gate and inside one of the larger buildings. 2B refuses to admit it to herself, but she’s relieved to not have to delve too far into this labyrinthine city.

“I’ve never seen the sky this color…” 9S muses as he stares up, transfixed by the blood red sky and orange sun hanging low.

Though hauntingly beautiful, she won’t deny, 2B keeps her gaze fixed on the wrought iron gate ahead of them. The heavens disturb her; they are the color of death. Of war. And the sun is… wrong.

She snaps at 9S to keep focused as they approach the gate to the city. Though scans indicate there are no machine lifeforms, or any lifeforms beyond their target, she’s learned from countless combat assignments to not rely totally on what the support unit reports. She’s encountered and seen machines that mask themselves from scans or camouflage themselves in the environment, and in a place like this anything could be hiding in the shadows just outside of view.

The iron gate lies ajar, worn from millennia of neglect. Clouds of rust particles burst from the hinges as 2B shoves it open further, the metal grinding against itself with a horrible grating shriek. The sound makes them both wince, and they slip through the partially opened gate as soon as they can.

Standing inside the city gates, 9S can’t shake the uneasy feeling that claws at the back of his mind. The great ancient human structures loom above them, and though he knows that the buildings themselves aren’t alive, he can’t shake the notion that he’s being watched by them. The windows are dark, but when he passes by the light of the setting sun reflects off of them, giving them the illusion of intelligence. Suddenly, 9S feels as if he’s inside a cave, or locked in a room with no exit. Suddenly… He finds it hard to breathe. 9S tugs at the collar of his jacket as if it's tightening around his throat. His synthetic lungs fill with air as much as he can take, then he releases it moments later. It calms him, if only a little.

2B’s gaze is fixed ahead on the building Pod 042 marked as the rogue android’s hiding place. It’s a much smaller structure than the others that choke the sky, but its reach stretches across the streets like a tree’s roots. Judging by the well preserved signs that hang from crumbled doors it looked to have multiple uses. 9S commands his own Pod to run scans on the words and symbols for later analysis.

“The target’s in here…” 2B murmurs, holding her free hand up in a tight fist, signaling 9S to stop behind her.

This portion of the sprawling building is similar in structure to the massive spires above. It has the same pointed section on the roof, but much smaller in scale, and similar symbols decorate the exterior. A cross, winged humans, various flowering plants, and a number of human figures bowing their heads or supplicating themselves to the winged humans.

“This must have been a place of worship,” 9S muses aloud.

“Focus.”

He nods. Typically 9S argues with his partner about the necessity for recording data like this, or excuse his wandering attention to his designation as a scanner, but he knows the danger within the house of worship, or rather, he doesn’t know. Neither one of them knows what this rouge android is capable of.

2B presses her hand against the wooden doors to the chapel and pushes it open as slowly as possible. It groans in protest, dust falls from its hinges and frame, but it swings inward. A rush of warm air washes over them carrying the scent of stale incense and dead machines. Clouds of smoke billow out of the doorway, rising into the red sky like twisted fingers. 2B enters first, sliding in sword arm first. She motions for 9S to wait for a moment, then commands Pod 042 to switch on its flashlight.

9S peeks his head around the door, keeping a few paces behind his partner. He switches on his own Pod’s flashlight to illuminate more of the pitch black interior. Long wooden benches are pushed up against the walls, opening up the center space. Ornate candle holders, rotting books, charred incense burners, and pieces of artwork among other things 9S has no name for are scattered across the ground, each one a priceless human artifact that could fuel hours of study. Yet it’s not these that hold 9S’ attention, but the statue at the far back of the chapel, and the figure kneeling in front of it.

It looks to be made of some kind of marble, a pristine white stone that has been sheltered from time and the elements. The subject is another winged human, this one wearing splendid armor and wielding a great spear. Beneath them, a grotesque, writhing beast bares its teeth and claws at the warrior as the blade pierces its throat. 9S has never seen anything like it in person, and very few records of these kinds of sculptures remain at all. It’s both horrific and beautiful at once. He wonders what the human who made this saw that inspired it. Did creatures like these roam the world during their time?

2B steps in front of him, Virtuous Contract at the ready. The figure in front of the statue rises to their feet as the Pod’s flashlights center on them. A cloak made of feathers conceals most of their form but they appear to be a female android, perhaps a YorHa model. Though, if that were the case it would have been in the mission briefing. That is, unless...

The android turns her head to the side, glaring at the pair over her shoulder.

“So, Command sent the wolves, did they?” She asks, a distinct rumble in her voice.

2B raises her blade and keeps her gaze steady. She hears 9S also ready his weapon, the golden katana Cruel Oath.

Lazily, the android turns her body to face them. Her clothes confirm her origins; there’s no mistaking the sharp white embellishments and black velvet of a YorHa uniform; however each piece is ripped, tattered, and stitched together with other scraps of clothing or… animal hide.

The rouge android drags the blade of a bloodied top heavy sword between her fingers, cleaning the gore from it. “It doesn’t matter, dog.” Her eyes shine with a strange, purplish light that refracts around her collapsed, twisted pupils. “You will fall like the rest.”

It isn’t until the rogue android rushes forward, sword raised, that 2B sees the corpses of YorHa units piled in front of the statue, and the blood that soaks it.

She dashes backward and shoves the bewildered 9S out of harm's way. The android’s bloodied sword crashes into the stonework floor, sending thousands of years of dust into the air. 2B lunges, her katana poised to take advantage of the enemy’s opening, but she sidesteps much quicker than anticipated. The rogue’s fist slams into 2B’s chest, distorting her internal sensors and throwing her off balance. 2B watches in horror as the rogue drives her sword towards her, but a golden flash knocks the blade away.

“2B!” 9S shouts, brandishing Cruel Oath. “Are you okay?!”

She shakes her head as if it would clear the internal errors from her vision, but she assumes her battle stance next to her partner. “Fine.”

Both androids launch into an assault on the rogue, attacking in tandem. Despite 2B’s scrambled sensors, she and 9S have an undeniable synergy that comes with countless missions. 2B forces the rogue back with singular, powerful blows, while 9S jabs at any opening he can reach from the sides. However, even with their combined might the rogue deflects and maneuvers out of the way of each attack as casually as one would flick away an insect or step around a puddle. She looks to be expending no effort at all as she dances around the two YorHa. Anger and frustration rises in 2B, culminating in a harsh growl. She mimics the rogue’s tactic from earlier, rushing forward and feinting with a crushing overhead strike that is easily dodged but allows no time for recovery. She slams her fist into the rogue android’s face, sending her stumbling backwards. Before 9S can dive in with a horizontal slash the rogue dashes backward, putting crucial distance between her and her hunters.

The rogue android lowers her gaze at the pair, sizing them up, taking stock of their abilities and assessing their weaknesses. 2B watches her eyes dart back and forth between her and 9S, then linger on 9S. Sensing the rogue’s motive and deciding at that moment that the outcome is unacceptable, 2B dives in front of the strike meant for 9S. The rogue’s sword slices cleanly through her chest, coating the rogue’s clothes in splatters of fresh blood. The battler falls to her knees, clutching the wound with one hand while supporting herself on her sword.

“No!!” 9S screams and lunges at their target. “2B!!”

“Hm. Interesting.” The rogue murmurs, easily deflecting the scanner’s wild strikes.

2B watches through blurred, error obscured vision as 9S drives the rogue back. If she didn’t know any better it’d seem that he has the upper hand, but the rogue’s eyes glint in a way 2B recognizes all too well. She’s baiting him.

9S slams his blade against the rogue’s, pressing all of his power and weight into the strike. It’s the moment she had been waiting for. Suddenly she pulls back, letting 9S’ weight fall forward and forcing him off balance. She kicks his legs out from under him then shoves him into the floor. 9S lets out a startled, choked gasp as his weight and the force of the rogue’s attack cracks the stone floor, sending up more clouds of dust into the air.

Clutching her chest, 2B roars and charges at the target with blinding speed. When she sees the smirk twisting the rogue’s lips and the pointed iron rod in her grip, it’s too late. With a flash of her crowfeather cape, the android meets 2B’s charge with her own, the skewer aimed at her wounded chest. 2B tries to divert her body away, but the momentum is too strong. It’s just enough to roll her body to the side so that the spike pierces clean through her shoulder, clear of critical systems.

The pain, however, is agonizing.

It’s different from the injuries 2B has suffered in the past. Countless machine swords, spears, and axes have torn through her body and of course all of those injuries hurt, but they were manageable. When the iron bar rips through layers of cloth, skin, carbon plating and frame, and synthetic muscle fibers it's as if her shoulder has been set on fire. She clenches her teeth, muffling a scream to a low growl. Her hand wraps around the skewer, close to the wound itself. Instinct tells her to tear it out immediately, but she knows that without treatment doing so would only worsen her condition. 2B doesn’t get to make that decision, unfortunately. The rogue grabs hold of the end of the iron rod and twists it side to side, driving it further into 2B’s shoulder.

2B sinks to her knees and tries to hold back the cries of agony. Her injured arm stops responding to commands and lies limp and useless against her side. She swats at the rogue android with her weakening other arm, desperate to escape from this torment. Her strength fades along with her vision; it becomes impossible to even hold herself upright.

She must not fall, she must not… she must stay strong, she must stay alive.

She will not allow him to die…

Not for the sake of a monster like her….

9S leaps into the fight as the rogue android prepares a killing blow. A flurry of Pod fire, sword strikes, and furious movement all blur together into a white, gold, and black haze. She fights to stay awake, she fights to stand, but her body begins to shut down non-vital systems and conserve as much energy as she can. First her tactile sensors switch off, leaving her in a numbing cold. Then her hearing, quickly followed by sight. A warning flashes across the last vestiges of her vision that she is entering a forced shutdown state, and despite her audio sensors being deactivated, she swears she hears 9S cry out for her.

….

…….

………

……….

……..

….

2B opens her eyes to the blinding, sterile white of hacking space. This itself is not shocking. Oftentimes she would run diagnostics on her critical systems when in a forced shutdown, both to manage critical systems and to keep herself busy.

But now, in the distance, there is an anomaly.

A single figure, black as night, approaches her. It’s shape is human up till its head, which sports pointed ears and a long snout like that of a dog or wolf. It looms over her and leaves a black, fragmented mist in its wake. But most troubling of all in this world of stark monochrome is its eye…. or what 2B believes is an eye. In the center of its lupine face is a strange geometric sigil that emits a highly saturated purple light. It feels… malicious. The thought itself is insane to 2B. Light cannot possess intent or emotions, and yet…

“This is an unacceptable outcome.” A voice booms in her head. Somehow she knows it is the entity speaking.

2B opens her mouth to respond, but instead of words, thick crimson fluid leaks from her throat.

“You will die. He will die. You cannot abide by this.”

She shakes her head. Droplets of blood fall to the pristine floor. The entity is right. If she has any strength left, 9S will live.

“Stand, little doll,” the entity commands, “Stand and unleash y-...Be——…..d.”

The entity’s voice becomes warped and distorted with audio glitches, yet 2B understands its words with frightening clarity.

“Take-......l-...s within.”

It holds a hand out to her, offering her something she can’t quite make out. The shape in its palm is amorphous, colorless, and flickers with lines of jumbled code. Somehow, she knows this piece of herself in intimate detail, yet cannot remember what this does or what its relation to the entity is.

But it promises strength enough to save 9S.

2B reaches out and takes the code in her hand…

….

………….

…………………………

………………………………………………………..

Her eyes snap open. A current of raw energy runs through her body, electrifying every nerve and sensor within her. She shakes with each pulse of her circulatory apparatus as a new, terrifying strength takes hold. 2B rises to her feet, flexing her hands, legs, arms. One arm’s movement is restricted by the iron bar still stuck in her shoulder. She tears it out with little effort, casting it to the floor. The rattling, hollow sound echoes against the stone chapel.

The rogue’s head snaps up from her combat with 9S, who is barely able to hold his sword. Something in her expression changes. She kicks 9S and points her sword at 2B, her arms shaking in a way they had not before.

2B lunges forward, her sword raised high. The rogue raises her own sword to deflect, but 2B’s newfound strength breaks her guard with one mighty strike. With blinding speed 2B slices through the rogue android’s body. Her crowfeather cape flutters to the floor, soon followed by her arm. The rouge android staggers back, an expression of shock and horror twisting her face. 2B drives her sword through the rogue’s chest, forcing her back further. Instead of drawing her sword back for another strike, a terrifying feeling takes over 2B. She leaves the sword inside the rogue’s chest and tackles her to the ground. With her bare hands and horrible strength, 2B delivers blow after blow to the android’s chest, shoulder, arms, head, and abdomen. Each piece is reduced to a pulp of flesh and metal one after the next until nothing remains but scrap.

2B throws her head back as she straddles her victim, a horrible, twisted grin plastered across her face and arms outstretched. Her body feels wrong… horribly wrong, yet for the first time since she can remember, her chest is light. She gazes up at the morbid sculpture with an emotion she can’t quite describe. It isn’t the same as a combat high, she is intimately familiar with that heady rush. This is something akin to… euphoria. A laugh begins to bubble up in her throat-

“2B?”

She’s forced back to reality by the 9S’ voice, right beside her ear. Suddenly, the terrible strength from moments before fades from her body. Her arms go limp by her sides, and it becomes hard to sit upright. Even breathing is laborious. 9S wraps his arms around her shoulders and tugs her gently, laying her head and shoulders against his chest.

“I’ve got you. We… I think we’re safe.” His breathing is uneven and ragged, much like 2B’s. He swivels his head back and forth, searching for any lingering threats as quickly as possible. “Pod, run a scan for machine lifeform or android signals in the immediate area,” he commands.

Pod 153 is silent for a moment, then emits a grating, hideous garbled noise. Words try to break through the audio distortions but neither 2B or 9S is confident it isn’t simply what they wish to hear.

“Alert:” Pod 042 begins, “Interference from unknown source is preventing accurate scans of the surrounding area. Proposal: Relocate to an elevated aaaaaaa…..a-r-....rrr……”

The same audio distortions come from 042, mingling with 153’s until they both cut off, leaving the androids in silence. “Pod?” 9S calls to the floating support unit. “Pod, respond. ... Pod?”

2B mutters weakly to her own Pod, but it's the same as 9S’. No response at all.

9S pulls up a small data screen, map data, from what 2B can tell. Or… where map data would be. Instead, there’s a blank, grey screen and a little message box that reads No Data.

“What the-...” 9S whispers, flipping through different screens at a frantic pace. “Where-... There’s… all the data is gone!” he shouts, “No map, no signal scans… I can’t even connect to the Bunker…”

“We’re stranded…” 2B muses aloud.

Silence passes between them. Only the ominous wind passing through ancient wood and stone reminds them that the world hasn’t stopped moving around them.

“We should move to a higher area, like your Pod said.” 9S suggests, rising to his feet. “Can you stand?”

When 9S offers a hand out to her, 2B takes it without thinking. His touch, even through his thick gloves, calms the beast pacing inside her.

Beast?

…..What does that mean?

2B rises to her feet, her hands lingering in 9S’ for a moment longer than she normally would. There’s a fog in her head that distorts her equilibrium. She leans on 9S for support, to which he wraps his arm around her waist and positions himself under her shoulder.

“I got you.” He says with a small smile.

2B feels just a bit lighter.

They exit the chapel and make for higher ground. 9S rationalizes that if they simply continue up stairs or inclines they would find a space clear of whatever is interfering with the Pod’s satellite connections. Perhaps it’s the fog that creeps across the cobblestone streets or the odd angle of the sun (not that it makes sense to 9S or 2B but they have to consider all possibilities), or perhaps it’s something beyond that. There’s a strange, eerie feeling about this city that neither can explain, and neither want to talk about. As if there’s a presence constantly watching over them.

They climb the stairs of one of the massive sprawling religious buildings. From what 9S assesses, it seems to have one of the tallest spires in the city. Only a larger time-keeping building looming in the distance is larger. If he could reach the top he should be far enough above whatever is interfering with the Pods. When he relays his plan to 2B who only nods, her eyes unfocused and breathing shallow, worry starts to lace its icy fingers through his chest. Something is wrong with her.

9S’ first instinct is to prepare a data backup with the bunker, but the Pods are both out of commission for the time being. His next is to contact command and ask how they should proceed, to the same conclusion. Climbing the spire is the only course of action he can take, but first, he has to make sure 2B is safe.

He leads her through the castle of worship, now supporting most of her weight. That… frightening show of strength must have exhausted her power supply. There are plenty of well preserved wooden benches that stretch across half of the main worship chambers, at least it would be more comfortable than the stone floors. Under watch by the countless grotesque statues that sit in the rafters, 9S helps 2B onto a long bench, laying her on her back. She hisses and grinds her teeth as she moves. She must have sustained internal damage from that fight…

“I’ll be right back,” he promises, “I’m going to go to the roof to get a clear signal.”

All 2B gives in response is a slow nod. He lingers by her side before leaving, a moment longer than needed.

Now alone in this spacious, hollow, human structure, 2B takes stock of her condition. There’s pain in her shoulders, particularly her right arm. Her legs are tight, most locking up from the strain of the previous battle and trekking up to her current location. Her back, as well, is tense beyond discomfort. It spasms and jolts if she breathes too hard. At least these are injury related, explainable. The black wolfman with purple eyes lingering in the corners of her vision, is not.

She sees the entity in the shadows, lurking just out of view. 9S walks right past it, not even sparing a glance at the tall, gangly creature. It doesn’t respond to 9S either, instead focusing on 2B and only 2B.

The sight of it makes her stomach turn. She tries to close her eyes, but the glowing, purple sigil is burned into her vision. With a groan she digs her knuckles into her eyelids as if she could carve the hallucination out of the air. Defeated, 2B lets her arms down once more. One hand touches the cool stone floor, decorated with elegant mosaics, and she suddenly realizes how warm she is. According to the warning messages displayed in her vision her body temperature is ten degrees above normal levels.

“Pod,” she groans, forcing herself to sit up, “retrieve water from storage-”

“Report: Mail notification received from Command.”

The monotone voice of her support unit shocks her. Pod 042 had been silent up until now due to whatever interference was in the area, and now it’s getting messages from Command? 9S must have established a connection from the roof.

Her heart sinks. If that’s the case he would contact her. The first thing she’d hear would be his voice.

She opens the message, dreading its contents.

Subject has accessed confidential records. Eliminate the Target.

At the top of the spire 9S takes in the view of the entire city, the wind rushing through his hair. It’s breathtaking. It’s unlike anything he’s ever seen. The sky dyes the entire urban sprawl red, as well as the mountains on the horizon. His pulse races as he drinks in the terrifying awe of what the ancient humans were capable of, hoping to remember every last detail of the buildings, the streets, and the magnificent sculptures that litter the city. It’s all so well preserved that he feels as though a human might appear, walking down the cobblestone streets as if nothing were wrong. As if they didn’t go extinct.

Reluctantly he draws his attention away from the splendor of humanity’s ruins, and shakes away the creeping emptiness that comes with that line of thought. He can’t think about that now. He and 2B are stranded. 9S produces a holographic terminal that mirrors Pod 153’s settings menu. Pod’s diagnostics on his end show buildup of foreign material in and around certain receivers, something that 9S expects, but that is only part of the problem. It seems that the atmosphere in this place is clogged with various chemicals and particles that make satellite transmissions more difficult. Considering all of the decaying metal and stone it’s no wonder that there’s so much particulate in the air. Once Pod’s receivers are clear 9S has Pod 153 hover just above the spire’s tip. It stays suspended in the air, the small light on the top of its body turning on and off at regular intervals.

“Connection established.” Pod 153 announces moments later. “Proposal: Contact the Bunker for support.”

“Great! Set up a relay connection for Pod 042 as well.”

“Affirmative.”

9S opens a data screen laden with information and begins composing his message to Operator 21O. With an unreliable connection a live call would be too risky, a simple text based message won’t be distorted or cut out. He records a brief message, attaches a transcription of his words, and sends it to the Bunker. Hopefully 21O would send something quickly-

A flash of movement in the streets below catches his eye. Something running on all fours... “Pod… run a scan for machine lifeforms…” He says, a chill creeping up his spine.

Pod 153 floats down to his side. “Alert: Multiple machine lifeforms detected. Proposal: Regroup with Unit 2B.”

“But-”

That thing didn’t look like a machine…

“Alert: Anomalous signal detect-”

Pod 153’s words are drowned by a horrific, mournful howl that reverberates through the entire building. 9S clings to the ornate decorations on the spire and covers his ears with his free hand. His body runs cold. He’s never heard a sound like that before. Nothing the machines make comes close to that. The pain and sorrow in that noise is something that no animal could produce either. That left only one possibility…

Another roar wracks the building from within…

2B clutches the sides of her head, the data screen long dismissed.

No…

Her chest strains under her panicked breaths.

No.

She hadn’t been watching him. She hadn’t been keeping track of his questions and behavior…

No… No.

And now she…

No no no no no .

She has to…

no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no.

NO.

She will not do this. Not again.

Her skin feels… tight.

She will fight off every single goddamn android Command sends until there are none left but her and him. She will not be a part of this cycle again. Her hands curl into fists as a surge rushes through her body, alighting her nerves with energy. With power.

A shadow moves across the stone floor of the castle of worship. The entity, its form inky black, its sigil emitting a baleful purple light, glides towards her. It bathes her in the highly saturated light, a light not even shielding her eyes can diffuse. It bores into her core, it peers into her mind. It speaks into her mind.

“You will not allow this to happen.” Its voice echoes off the hollow shell of where humans once sought God. “But strength comes at a price, little doll.”

The entity plunges its claws into her chest. Heat explodes throughout her body to the point where she fears she might self-destruct. The boiling tendrils of this ethereal monster sink into her artificial heart and her Black Box. Something activates, or… unlocks, and suddenly she feels… confined. Her body… it’s too small….

“Time to pay the toll…”

It rips its claws, now writhing shadow-like whips, out of her chest, then vanishes. 2B’s vision is obscured, but not by warnings and error messages, by blood. Red veins pulse on the edges of her sight in time with her heart. Each beat sends waves of heat, electricity, and agony through her body.

“Stand, little doll. Stand, and unleash your beasthood.”

A scream forms in 2B’s throat, but it cannot break through her swelling throat and gritted teeth. She takes frantic, shallow breaths. Her limbs shake, her fingernails dig into the stonework floor. It’s so hot…

2B rolls onto the floor and rips away her tight uniform. Far too tight. Parts of her dress were already beginning to tear as her muscles swell. Blood trickles from various wounds where her skin has split, revealing the thick, synthetic muscle cords that lie beneath. Her blindfold is next, but removing it does not help her vision. One eye is unfocused, blurring all of her vision.

She drags her fingernails across her body and lets out a deep, animal snarl when she tears into her own flesh. Looking down at her hands, she recoils at the sight of long, black claws that split her fingers down the center. Skin falls from them in long strips to the point where the mechanical joints of her hands are exposed.

Something snaps inside her, somewhere in her upper back. She howls in agony, in sorrow, as her spine lengthens, twists, and grows too fast for her body to maintain. Her insides are compacted and grind against each other, sending sickening vibrations throughout her. Her throat finally opens up, allowing her to breathe. She watches as puffs of steam escape her mouth into the warm twilight air.

Another crack and something explodes out of her lower back. Her balance is thrown off and she falls forward, smashing her face into stone. Another snarl, this one combined with the gnashing of fangs. Her mouth warps, splitting out of her face into a muzzle. Eyes follow, one swelling to fit its now spacious socket while the other stunts and refuses to change. She claws at the peeling skin of whatever she can reach, spilling more of her blood in the process. Everything hurts, everything itches, but oh god the power feels so good.

A growth springs from above her unchanged eye, weighing her head down and hunching her body over. She supports herself with one enormous hand, the other scooping the wires and tubing that spills out of her torn stomach and forcing them back inside her abdominal cavity. The twisting extension of her spine, a tail, thuds against the floor and counters the weight of her head.

2B shakes the mane of bloodied, white hair from her functioning eye, turns her head to the sky, and roars.

#nier automata #2B #9S #2B9S #fanfiction #nier fanfiction #Tanks fics

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buggytron · 4 years

Text

BuggyTron

"So (Y/N) this is an easy process.” My father says leading me through it again. I smile at him buckling up in the Novas spacecore craft. The pod would put me to space and manually fly me to the colonies designation. My dad continues going over the procedures and points to the emergency controls just in case something went wrong and I had to pilot the pod manually.

Nodding as he finished his spiel he gave my restraints a last good tug. Humming in satification he pulls back a bit. I smiled excitement flowing through me, I was ready for my first flight space flight to this new colony mom had discovered.

“Okay.” He gave me a kiss on the forehead making sure my backpack was secure as well. “I love you…” He says putting our heads together. Closing my eyes head to his I laughed.

“I love you too dad. I’ll see you soon but I’m excited to see mom.” He smiled back ruffling my hair.

“Have fun. Her colonies great. I'll meet you there in a few cycles okay?" Saying goodbye he put his hand to the glass as I put mine over his. Pod getting ready to launch he backed up the safe travel distance. Waving at me I blow kissed him goodbye making him smile. Closing my eyes gas filling the pod I settle into sleep as the pod takes off.

That's the last thing I remember as I wake up in the pod. Lights flash on my ships screen making me anxious. Opening communications to the landing bay alarms begin blaring.

“Mom? Dad?!” Hearing loud thuds outside the pod informs me its taking severe damage. The screeching alarms get louder echoing through the small space, bright lights flash across the flying modules screens, and a violent shaking left me vibrating in my seat as I tried to reach my colony. Trying to get back on course there was a sharp jolt and everything went dark.

Autobugs P.O.V

“It's a nice night.” Rodimus observes looking up at the sky as his thorax glowed.

“Yes. It's peaceful.” Drift responded to the glowbug antenna twitching in delight.

“Why’d you drag me out here for this?” Ultra Magnus questioned annoyed as he stared at the stars. It was peaceful but knowing the colonies co-leader and his second in command had plannes this party was making it hard to enjoy the night.

“Magnus were just trying to have some fun.” The glow bug complained, his light dimming slightly.

“Rodimus cheer up.” Skids stated staring at his leader of the colony as a small group started to gather looking up at the skies.

“Yeah.” Swerve chimed in finally catching up. Though the garden snail was never really known for being quick in the first place. “Tonights supposed to be the brightest meteor shower in half a vorn. We should all enjoy it.” He stated. “Plus this is the only time I’ll sell my nectar and honey at half price. In honor of the stars and Primus.” Swerve admitted. Rodimus decides not to look a gift bug in the mouth and pays for a fruity nectar buzzing happily. Let the party commence!

After lots of laughs over nectar or honey and story telling everyone finally became quiet.

As everyone settled down in blankets and temporary nests they stare at the meteor shower in awe. Lights flash across the sky and stars twinkle as everyone watches the sky in all its glory. Looking out at the shining cosmos the colony notices a meteor go off it's course.

“Swerve that ever happened before?” Skids questioned making everyone look at him. Swerve tilted his head confused.

“No.” He admits.

"Is that Meteor getting bigger?" Tailgate asks softly. His wings flutter and everyone realizes it's crashing.

"NO IT'S GETTING CLOSER!" Panicked screeching fills the valley as bugs scatter.

"Everyone move!!!" Ultra Magnus yells trying to retain order as everyone scatters. Getting out of the way the colony stared as something made impact but it wasn't a meteor. After the hissing had gone down Rodimus inches closer to the item curious.

"Rodimus be careful!" Rodimus pauses his antena twitching as he gets closer curious. "It's a pod." He reports from his position. He notices a blob and his eyes widen wings fluttering. "THERE'S SOMEONE INSIDE CYCLONUS HELP!" Claws tear through metal as the Lost Light Colony stare. What was that?

~~~~~~~~~

Waking up in a comfortable bed I groan. Blinking my eyes to adjust I look around the warm wooden room. The smell of herbs and medicine fills my nose as I breathe. It feels refreshing. Slowly leaning up looking at the lanterns hanging around the room I smile. Cozy.

My backpack along with some of my clothes are placed neatly next to my bed. Nest? Curiously examining my resting place I hum. A soft nest full of blankets and soft materials. How interesting.

This had to the colonies new medical center. Looking for a doctor remembering that I got pulled from my pod after it crashed I hear a door open. Turning my head I smile softly, head a little dizzy.

"Hello doctor. Where am AHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Scooting back screaming in terror I stared at the giant bug in front of me with horror. What the hell was that thing???

“Please calm down I know…” It starts chittering legs reaching out towards me.

“Oh my god the bug talks!” Backing up more I fall out of the nest on the dirt floor. Looking around I grab the closest thing to me. Holding up a long sharp stick. A sucky weapon but a weapon none the less. Swallowing I grab my backpack holding the stick out. “Back up I’ll use this!” Holding it up defensively the bug… sighed? Chirped? It sounded annoyed but I didn't care! This thing wasn't eating me!

“Please calm down. Your pod crashed last night during a meteor shower. We pulled you from the wreckage and saved you.” Looking at the giant bug I blinked. Lowering my weapon I watched the bug curiously.

“Crashed?” I questioned vaguely remembering a crash. Random flashes and beeps filled my mind making me close my eyes to focus. Opening them tears flooded my eyes. I let out a deep breath shakingly dropping the stick. “I… I remember.” I said slowly as my hands tremored. I had almost died. Sitting down I pull my knees up to my chest tears streaming down my face.

“Hey.” The bug said. Looking up tired and feeling hollow it smiled at me. “You're okay now. We salvaged most of your ship and I bandaged you all up.” Looking down I pulled up my sleeves seeing bandages made of leaves up the length of my arms.

“... You… you saved me?” I questioned wiping at my face.

“Yes. Now please breath. It'll be alright. We'll figure this out." He promises. Looking up at the bug I nod seeing that some others had joined him.

“... okay…” I said slowly nodding again. Yeah. Yeah it'd be okay. They'd healed me. They were friends. “.... So where am I?” I asked looking around the room confused.

“Well we call our planet Buggytron. Where are you from?” He asked calmly coming a bit closer. Leaning up and sitting criss cross I blinked.

“Buggytron?” I’d never heard of a planet by that name. Not in any system or region on Novacores map.

“You're not from this system pup. I've seen many things in my life. None of them like you.” He states. Nodding now calm I sat down as a warm mug was put in my hands.

"So what now?" I question taking a sip of the sweet liquid. It was warm and felt smooth down my throat. Like an earthy cider or soothing herbal tea.

"Welcome to BuggyTron!" Rodimus shouts. BuggyTron huh? Well could be worse. At least everyone here seemed nice.

#bugformers #buggytron #rodimus #ultra magnus #drift #swerve #skids #ratchet #mtmte #mtmte x reader

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exauhstedsunflower · 4 years

Text

In The Light Of The Moon

In which Cathy has a nightmare, Kitty takes her to Catalina for comfort, and they all get some rest as Cathy ponders the moon.

Cathy shoots out of bed, flinging herself to the window in a moment of adrenaline. She catches herself on the wall beside the window and looks desperately to the moon in an attempt to ground herself. That dream was bad, not just a normal nightmare. This one left her absolutely terrified, so much so that the panic allowed her to practically fly across the room.

This isn’t new, just a bit inordinate. But sometimes she’ll wake up so scared that she falls into something. The first night she was able to sleep after reincarnation she knocked over the lamp on the bedside table. Usually though, she just sits up with her heart racing and her eyes squeezed shut in a vain attempt to protect herself from the horrors.

But tonight she didn’t hurt anything, nor did she break any of her possessions. That counts as a win, she thinks to herself, feeling her heart rate slow to a reasonable pace. Still not a healthy pace, but one that she’s confident won’t send her to the hospital. She slumps against the windowsill as she feels the flight response slip away from her. The shaking hasn’t subsided, likely won’t for a few hours.

Reflecting on the dream isn’t something Cathy wants to do. No, she’d rather never think of it again. But he looked so angry, and she was so scared she couldn’t speak-

She pulls herself back up off of the wall, looking at the moon one more time. The same moon from her first life. That moon saw all of the things she sees only in her dreams now. She wonders what the moon would say about humanity, if it could speak. Maybe it would be angry; or maybe it would be tired. Or would it cry? Would it too be too afraid to speak? After all, Cathy hasn’t seen half of what it has and nearly all of her fight has left her.

Either way, it still comes back around to provide light. Will Cathy have to come back again and again, like the moon? How many cycles will she have to go through before it ends? Before she can stay in peace?

Perhaps that’s a selfish thought, she reasons. Because the moon has been doing this since the beginning of time, and it isn’t complaining. Cathy has only been at it for two lifetimes.

She looks away in shame, as if the moon might hear her thoughts. Attempting a shaking breath, she walks back over to her bed. But she doesn’t get back in it, she starts rifling through the blankets for her phone.

Slightly damp, I need a shower.

She finds her phone and checks the time. 1:23AM, she’d only slept about twenty minutes. Her dream had felt like a lifetime though. A lifetime of him grabbing my wrist and screaming-

Grabbing her towel on her way out of her room, she makes her way to the bathroom. She just puts the flashlight on her phone, not bothering with the light. It would be too harsh. It would make everything a little too real. There’s something that makes her feel protected by the dark. If the light is on it would make reality too loud, not that that makes any sense. She knows that her reasoning makes no sense, and yet here she is, setting up the shower with shaking hands in the low light of her phone. She puts her hair up into a bun so as not to wet it, and steps in.

The rhythmic feeling of the water against her back is so calming that she loses track of time. She hasn’t even picked up the soap yet, has just been standing there taking in the warmth. Maybe she misjudged how tired she really is, maybe she should have gotten back in bed and dealt with this in the morning. Because this is all so relaxing, and her adrenaline is wearing off, and she’s feeling a crash coming.

A knock on the bathroom door nearly sends her to the grave one again. She catches herself on the handle they attached when she sprained her knee. Useful, that handle was.

“Cath? Are you okay?”

Kitty, it’s just Kitty, She reassures herself. She isn’t sure who she was expecting, but hearing Kitty’s voice through the locked door makes her visibly untense.

“Y-Yeah, I’m good Kit.” She replies, kicking herself when she stutters. No way Kitty will believe that.

“Can I come in?”

The question causes Cathy to tense up again. Normally she has no issues with being naked in front of the queens. She knows they aren’t going to try anything, and she’s not the one with the sexual trauma. But right now she doesn’t want to be vulnerable, even in front of one of the people she trusts most in this house.

After a moment of careful contemplation, (Does she really want to admit that she doesn’t want to be seen right now? What would that imply?) she decides to ask Kitty to give her a moment. Only a moment, nothing more. If only to give her time to unlock the door. If only to give her time.

Forgoing any actual washing, she gets out with one quick rinse of her body. Her hands make quick work of putting her towel on as she curses the fact that she forgot to bring any actual clothing with her. She takes another small moment to prepare herself to open the door.

Are you preparing to greet the cold air? Or preparing to greet your friend? She imagines the moon is asking her these questions. It sounds calm, genuinely curious even though it knows the answer.

Perhaps all of the sleepless nights have gotten to her, she knows she isn’t as sharp as she is made to be in this life. But, to the moon’s questions- Cathy does not know the answer.

Kitty looks only concerned when Cathy opens the door, holding tightly onto the edges of her tightly wrapped towel. She’s holding a bundle of clothing out to her.

“You never remember to bring clothes with you. I brought sweats and a jumper.”

Cathy thanks her, and selfishly asks for one more moment to change. Kitty grants her the moment.

When she finally emerges from the bathroom, freshly changed into clothes that are definitely Kitty’s, not Cathy’s own, Kitty immediately takes her hand. Cathy doesn’t pull away, she doesn’t flinch or squeak in fright or pale in fear. She would like to have reacted in any way that would make Kitty not touch her, but she doesn’t. She’s never been good at saying no.

She allows for Kitty to pull her through the hall, although they aren’t heading toward their rooms. No, they’re going straight to Catalina’s tonight.

It was a given, of course. Kitty must have also had a bad night. Cathy almost feels bad, since she’s started going to the others for help at night it’s only increased the amount of interrupted sleeps Catalina gets. Kitty can’t always help, and Cathy has half the mind to put her own worries aside to comfort the girl.

She won’t; because she is a coward and can hardly speak at all. But oh, would she absolutely love to. Usually she would, too. She’d also love to pull her hand out of Kitty’s grasp, because it is beginning to feel increasingly claustrophobic.

Kitty doesn’t knock, she just opens the door and heads for Catalina’s bed. This is unlike Cathy’s usual routine because Cathy usually waits for a quiet noise of acknowledgment from the other side before walking in. Her usual is also different because she doesn’t go for the bed right away. She goes for the window, checks that she can still see the moon, then slides into bed without much of a word at all.

“Lina?” Kitty whispers, sitting on the edge of the bed. Catalina wakes up immediately, only slightly aware.

“Hm?” She looks confused, clearly very tired. Cathy spares a thought of guilt as they wake her up.

“It’s Kitty and Cathy, Lina.”

That gets her up. “Are you alright?” Is always the first thing she says.

Cathy nods, she always does. And then Kitty elbows her lightly and disagrees. The only difference with tonight is that Cathy flinches.

Kitty immediately attempts to apologize, which causes Catalina to fully sit up in concern. And in turn Cathy completely shrinks in on herself at the attention she’s receiving.

Catalina, ever so gently and slowly, reaches over and pulls Cathy’s hand out of Kitty’s grip and replaces it with her own. Cathy tries her best not to look relieved that she’s not being touched anymore. Although she thinks she failed, because she can see a slight look of curiosity cross Kitty’s face.

“Nightmares?” Lina questions softly, receiving two timid nods.

She tuts softly at them, murmuring something involving mis hijas and hermosas. Of course Cathy blushes at the cooing, whereas Kitty just absolutely melts. Lina’s hands make their way up and down Kitty’s arms, almost in a petting motion, as she maneuvers her into a comfortable position tucked in tightly under the covers. It isn’t long before she’s dozing off to the tune of Spanish murmuring. Cathy nearly fell asleep watching the display.

When Lina’s attention turns to Cathy it’s unexpected. It shouldn’t be, she’s here in Lina’s bed after all. It’s just that Cathy had gotten so caught up in being the third party, she’d forgotten she came for comfort as well.

Does it count as her coming for comfort if Kitty all but pulled her here?

Lina’s soft gaze melts right into Cathy in the dark. Just the eye contact feels warm, like a hug.

“Oh, mija. You must be exhausted.”

She can only nod, because she is so exhausted that she isn’t fully able to form words. Lina then stands, much to the confusion of Cathy. When Cathy doesn’t stand with her, Lina looks at her kindly to explain.

“Up you get. You haven’t seen la luna yet.”

It had never occurred to her that Lina might have picked up on her habit of looking at the moon. She never says anything as Cathy stares out the window. Cathy had always assumed that she’s too asleep to notice the movement until Cathy got to the bed.

She stands on shaky legs to sluggishly move to the window. Lina doesn’t touch her, just follows her with one hand ready to catch her if she falls. She isn’t sure how much longer she can stay up for. It’ll be really bad if she starts falling asleep mid walk. Cathy won’t be able to explain that away, and Lina will have seen it so she’d freak out. Cathy might actually need to seek medical help if that happens. She’s unsure what the medical support would do, but it’s always been a scary but steady option.

They make it to the window, and she doesn’t sit like she usually would on the window seat. She wishes she had one of these in her room. Although to be fair, if she had one of these in her room she wouldn’t use her bed.

The moon is still there, still watching. It’s a comfort to know, in the midst of the night terrors and chaotic waking, that there is always that peaceful looking constant. She wonders if the moon knows, if that’s the reason it keeps itself looking so regal and calm. The moon is, and always will be, a comfort to humanity.

They don’t stay by the window very long before Cathy is crying softly. Catalina immediately moves into action. Not touching, but speaking.

“Estará bien. Lo sé. Lo sé. Oh, querida, it's okay. We are here.”

She continues her reassurances until Cathy can properly breathe again, and her crying has slowed to a minimal amount. Cathy tears her gaze from the window and moves it to Kitty, who is still sound asleep in Lina’s bed.

She’d been so tired. Has been tired since they wed, why can’t he see that she’s tired? Why won’t he let her go?

In a small bit of bravery, Cathy grabs Lina’s hand. This goes against everything her body is telling her to do. Her mind is telling her to run far, far away from any human contact. Her body is telling her she’s going to get hurt. Her heart says that she’s being stupid.

But Lina just gently caresses her thumb across the top of Cathy’s hand and leads her back to the bed.

Lina gets in first, Cathy suspects this is so she can be in between Kitty and her, and then she urges Cathy under the covers as well. She doesn’t pull her in, but on the other side Kitty immediately snuggles into the woman.

It’s all so gentle, loving. A stark contrast to Cathy’s dream. Her wrist was in so much pain and he didn’t care. He may have broken it. She’s not going to be able to write like this.

“Mi hija, what’s going on?”

Cathy flinches once again when she is broken out of her flashback. The steady breathing of her godmother truly is relaxing to listen to in it’s own right, so she focuses on that to calm herself down.

“I’m sorry.” She apologizes, because this is ridiculous. She should have a handle on this by now. It’s been a month since she’s let Catalina and the other queens help her and nothing productive has happened. On top of that, she can’t even stay in the present. She keeps thinking about the past, about him.

And in that moment, she thought, ‘Oh lord, I’m going to have his baby. This monster is the father of my daughter.’ She could not leave him.

“Don’t be, mija. It’s quite alright.”

She pulls her hand out of Lina’s grasp and instead grabs at the women's nightgown. Nevermind the fact that she feels like a child as she does it, she needs this right now. Lina gets the hint, because of course she does, and pulls Cathy in. Cathy tries to explain, she does, but all that comes out is a mess of my baby and he hurt me.

She feels an explanation is more than needed, but apparently Lina doesn’t, because the woman just shushes her and rubs her back soothingly.

And, under the slight light of the moon, in the embrace of a trusted family member, Catherine Parr finally falls asleep. When Catalina wakes up in the morning, she’ll be warm and held together by two content sleeping figures. Her daughters, so she calls them. They needed her, still need her. And so then she will go right back to sleep, allowing the two girls to catch up on some much needed rest.

#Six #six the musical #Six the musical Fanfiction #six ff #Catherine Parr #Katherine Howard #catherine of aragon #same universe as “There is a reason for every little thing we do’#If you wanna read that series as well on ao3 #its a lot like this but longer #okay thanks for reading this #if you got this far #❤️

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gisellelx · 4 years

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The Cider House Vampire Rules

I completely agree with the criticism that SM is constantly ignoring bodily autonomy in her work. That’s something you have to grapple with if you’re going to stay canon--if we take SM at face value, what does it mean for the way we have to write these characters? Carlisle is 100% guilty of this in the case of Jacob’s DNA, which says something about him. I am no SM apologist. I think she wrote some disgusting stuff that she deserves to be called on.

But somewhere this idea developed that in BD, Carlisle was all gloved up and ready to force Bella into having an abortion. Not only does that not makes sense for his character, it runs directly counter to what he actually says in the book. Yet, it seems that people have concluded that “Carlisle would have been willing to abort the pregnancy” means “Carlisle was willing to force Bella against her will.” I don’t know if that’s because people find BD so insulting they’re unwilling to re-read it or what, or if it’s just that being so thoroughly inside Bella’s head has led to confusion, but as a dedicated canon writer, it’s always been my joy to find the gaps and to know these texts backwards and forwards, at least as they pertain to the character I’m writing at the time (which is usually Carlisle.)

So let’s talk about the two questions at play here: A) Was Carlisle willing and ready to terminate Bella’s pregnancy and B) Did he mean to do it against her will. I find no support for, and actually counter evidence for, B, and while I think A is quite likely, there’s actually more than a bit of wiggle room there, too.

Let’s dive in. My Twitter bio has recently been updated to read “Always here for the over the top srs bsns take.” Don’t say you weren’t warned. There are in-line citations involved because I am a NEEEEERRRRD.

The end of the honeymoon goes like this: Bella pukes, feels the baby quicken, which prompts Alice’s vision (which we never find out), which prompts the call from the Cullen household, and then they’re on the plane home.

We’re in Bella’s head at the end of the honeymoon. She doesn’t hear Carlisle’s side of the conversation after she hands the phone to Edward. Edward says this: “Is it possible? .... And Bella? .... Yes, yes, I will.” (BD 130) And that’s it. I suppose there’s a reading you could take there that Carlisle is like, “Bring her home and strap her to a table!” and that’s what Edward replies “Yes, I will” to. But...that seems really unlikely. We have no clue what Carlisle said, except that with the way he’s characterized in the prior books, it was probably more like, “Take care of her, bring her home, and we’ll figure this out together, son.”

So let’s think about what’s going through Carlisle’s head right now. Pregnant mothers, especially first time mothers, experience quickening around midway through their pregnancies. All this goes down on August 30 (OIG 411). So that puts Bella’s conception date, were this a normal pregnancy, sometime in May, maaaybe June. June, recall, is when she spent the night in a tent with Jacob. So it’s a little early for her to feel the baby move, especially for a first pregnancy, for that to have been the conception date, but that is certainly more plausible than “my vampire kid knocked her up two weeks ago and somehow she’s already halfway through her pregnancy.”

Yes, she says her last menstrual cycle was 31 days ago. Nevertheless, it just makes more sense that this is not Edward’s baby. So Carlisle has basically no information which is actually useful, and Occam’s Razor says that’s the easiest explanation. He doesn’t know what he’s dealing with at this point. I imagine that he absolutely flew into his library at that point and started re-reading every last journal entry he’d ever made for himself. He’s making phone calls to Tanya and trying to think his way through this.

He’s also a physician. And one who we have no reason to believe is militantly anti-abortion. Anti-abortion stances being linked to evangelical Christianity is actually a very new invention, dating to the Regan era (and it’s only really common in the US.) It wasn’t actually something actual Puritans cared about. So historically, there’s not a lot of reason to think Carlisle has some deep moral objection to terminating a pregnancy. I don’t think he was out there like Dr. Larch running an illegal abortion clinic pre Roe but I’d be astonished if he hasn’t performed a handful of them over his time. I think especially in cases where it was about the life of the mother, he would feel particularly compelled to use his skills to intervene. So he’s back at home, with the scant bit of information Edward has given, and Edward’s panic, and thinking, “Yep. Whatever is going on, we’re ending this pregnancy.” He has no reason at this point from his end to believe that Bella wants to go through with the pregnancy. He has what Edward has told him. We’ve seen Bella’s horror that Edward is thinking they should abort the baby, we’ve seen her call Rose, but Edward specifically doesn’t see this, and that means neither does Carlisle. So at this point, Carlisle is preparing himself (maybe?) to terminate a pregnancy he thinks is probably human and may be a ways along. At a bare minimum, what he knows at that point is that Bella is probably pregnant, and Edward is scared. He assumes Bella is scared. And maybe Edward calls him on the flight home and says that Kaure said that Bella was going to die. So he’s ready to do whatever he can do. Because he’s a doctor, and a father.

That’s the end of BD book 1, and BD book 2 picks up an entire week later without any intervening information. Jacob comes to visit and the next information we get about what’s happened in the meantime is him talking to Edward (BD 177), in which he asks what’s going on, and Edward, agonizing, explains in response to why “Carlisle hasn’t done anything” that “[Bella] won’t let us.”

It is then Jacob who suggests that they hold her down. And this is the one piece of information that we have that maybe suggests that Carlisle and Edward would’ve been in favor of forcing Bella, as Edward’s comment, “I wanted to. Carlisle would have...” (BD 178)

But let’s back this truck up a second. We know Edward is prone to overreaction. We also know that he tends to get pissed when things don’t go his way (flatscreen TV in New Moon, anyone?). Maaaaaybe he’s not lying here. Maybe Carlisle really would have just totally held Bella down and done his level best.

[Tiny aside: this wouldn’t have mattered though because not being able to gauge the speed at which the fetus was growing would’ve made abortion an incredibly risky maneuver. I don’t want to go too far into this but if you can handle the somewhat gruesome facts about what it takes to end a pregnancy that is more than 20 weeks along, you can google it--it’s a multi-day thing. If it would be possible that the fetus would be an entire week or two bigger the following day, this becomes downright impossible. Carlisle’s just not that stupid. He would’ve taken one look at this situation and gone, “Noooope.” Because he’s not an idiot. And that’s even before we get into the whole vampire skin amniotic sac stuff.]

The thing that upends this, though, is in the next chapter, after Jacob breaks from Sam’s pack over protecting Bella. He’s sitting on the Cullens’ back porch, with Carlisle, all road-weary. And Jacob calls Carlisle on calling Bella his family and says, “But you’re going to let her die.”

And Carlisle answers, “I can imagine what you think of me for that. But I can’t ignore her will. It wouldn’t be right to make such a choice for her, to force her.” (BD 234, emphasis mine). So. Edward says “Carlisle was willing.” Carlisle says “I can’t ignore her will.” Faced with those two pieces of information, and faced with the fact that Edward by this time has been known to lie over and over if it means getting his way, I don’t find much reason to put stock in what he has to say about what Carlisle was and wasn’t willing to do. I happen to think it is entirely reasonable that Carlisle was trying to figure out a way to abort the pregnancy because that would make sense for a doctor who was concerned about his daughter-in-law’s life to do. But there’s actually no information about this either way in the actual canon. The only thing we ever know about what Carlisle would be willing to do is what Edward says he would do.

And when it comes down to it, when Bella gets home and makes clear that ending her pregnancy is not what she wants, Carlisle is clear about how he lands. I don’t find room for the “He would’ve forced her to have an abortion” debate at all, and my suspicion that he would’ve been willing to perform an abortion if Bella had been willing is just that; a suspicion based on years of reading everything I can into his character. There’s actually not direct support for that in canon, either. [Later edit on rereading--it is possible, maybe even probable that this is what Edward means by “Carlisle would have” which would make sense. My headcanon is that he was totally okay with doing it! But it’s important to point out that this is headcanon--it’s not in the text.]

So was Carlisle willing to abort a pregnancy? Yeah, I think this is pretty likely, but we actually don’t have full information. Was he willing to force Bella to do that? He himself says no, running counter to what Edward says to Jacob in the heat of a moment. And if I have to choose one of these two men to be telling the truth here, I’m always betting on Daddy C.

#carlisle cullen #edward cullen #bella swan #canon #breaking dawn

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bthump · 3 years

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If you could rewrite Berserk (or maybe parts of it), what would you change? I love the way you interpret this story. The way you interpret this work, makes it so much more powerful, than how some other side of the fandom understand it.

thank you so much, i’m glad my interpretations resonate with you!

tbh my ideal version of Berserk is basically a much shorter story that begins with the Black Swordsman arc and ends on this shot:

more specifically I’d open on a similar panel of Guts fighting ghosts, seen far above, and alone. I’d include a version of the Lost Children arc in the Black Swordsman arc after chapter 2, between Snake Baron and Count Slug, also introducing Skull Knight. I’d make some kind of pointed visual comparison between Skull Knight and Vargas, illustrating that they’re both similarly consumed by revenge and cautionary tales for Guts.

This version of Lost Children is even sadder and more depressing - Jill and Rosine’s friendship is highlighted as positive, the scene where they fly together is beautiful and uplifting, and it’s suggested that if Jill did stay with Rosine her influence could remake the creepy Land of the Elves into less of a horror show and more of an actual place of refuge sans monster transformations. Yk, Rosine is open to Jill’s suggestions basically.

Guts still has his humanizing moments with Jill but he’s shown at his most monstrous too when he kills Rosine. Jill returning to her abusive home isn’t uplifting or hopeful, it’s tragic. Guts’ “this is your paradise” bit isn’t an objective statement, it’s a sign of Guts’ depressed cynicism and increasingly monstrous mindset. Oh and despite the Land of Elves being fucked up (in my version it would at least be sliiiiightly less fucked up), Guts destroying it would have some thematic echoes in the destruction of the Hawks. Maybe the raid we see on the Hawks after they’re declared traitors involves a lot more fire and forest burning down. Maybe some of the elf monster kids try to save each other and one of them gets Guts with a thrown knife lol a la Judeau protecting Casca. Idk, something.

Also the Peekaf story is cut, as is Rosine’s tragic flight home, as emotional as it was in the manga. She dies with Jill here. I’m kinda downplaying the dreams as escapes theme wrt Jill’s flight with Rosine and the land of the elves because I don’t think it works in this arc due to, yk, the alternative being abusive homes.

Afterwards ghosts still taunt Guts about becoming like Femto, but without the “your friend” description bc that gives too much away. Skull Knight picks up Rosine’s behelit and has his suggestive “hm this could be Guts eventually” internal monologue even though Guts doesn’t have a behelit yet.

Count Slug arc is essentially the same. I would turn the fetus into some kind of pathetic looking misshapen dog demon (like the Beast of Darkness but in much less cool form, bc that’s essentially what the fetus was before Miura overwrote it) who follows Guts around and reminds him of what he’s in danger of becoming. Guts picking up Slug’s behelit is the last shot before the Golden Age begins.

Theresia is a more angry version of Jill, and they’re both examples of Black Swordsman Guts ruining lives wherever he goes, along with the zombie girl in chapter 2 - it’s all variations on a theme of Guts sort of creating mini versions of himself bc of his traumatized lashing out. Zombie kid is most metaphorical in becoming a monster after listening to Guts’ cynical take on dying by the sword; Jill goes back to her abusive Gambino-esque father when her potential escape, Rosine, is killed; Theresia swears vengeance when Guts kills her father who couldn’t sacrifice her to save himself.

(this mini me thing would parallel Slug and Rosine’s abilities to create their own monsters, btw. Cycle of violence kinda thing.)

Everything else follows the manga up until Guts and Casca start getting romancey. I’d cut that out completely. They can have a burgeoning friendship but there’s no romantic undertones and no sex and no meddling Judeau etc. Casca still fights Guts and stabs him and yells at him about Griff but there’s no sucide attempt. She still confesses to her crush on Griffith because it’s a good griffguts parallel, but definitely doesn’t say she was lying to Guts and herself when she said she wanted to be Griffith’s sword. But I do want that “Griffith’s not a god... and I am a woman” line in there because it’s such a good parallel.

Guts monologues about his newfound dream to Godo in a flashback during the Wyald fight instead, then does the waterfall log thing and breaks several bones, then gets told off by Erika who points out he just wants to fight Zodd again. I’d maybe move some of Godo’s lines about Guts metaphorically being a nicked sword to here too. Also show the dragonslayer leaning up against a wall lol.

Guts still tells Casca at some point that he fully intends to leave again. Maybe during the rescue mission. Because yk we still need that moment where Griffith overhears someone telling Guts to leave.

Finally the last change is that Casca dies with Judeau, Guts manages to survive until Femto wakes up, they have a moment staring each other down, there’s a clear parallel to a moment of Guts’ childhood - I’m thinkin Guts asks “Why?” and there’s a shot of Femto, shadowed so we only see one eye, a la:

Apostles begin to descend on Guts chanting shit like ‘sacrifice’ and ‘ours,’ (comparison to bb!Guts facing down the wolves btw, Guts is resigned) and then Skull Knight appears and rescues him and we get that last shot of Femto.

The End.

The implication is that Guts and Griffith are alone and monstrous without each other, violence begets violence, relationships are a positive contrast to that but they keep fucking those up, etc. There would still be a slight ray of hope though in comparisons to Jill/Rosine and Slug’s inability to sacrifice Theresia, and Femto lowering his hand, showing that, yk, even monsters have potential. It would be a very thin ray though bc Guts killed those monsters lol so the implication would still be that Guts is kind of doomed to roam the world alone with his sword like Skull Knight or Zodd.

Also... I’d fuck around with the world building and astral plane stuff because Guts and Femto being metaphysically separated doesn’t work for this. I want that thin ray of hope even if it necessarily comes to nothing lol, if only because if I was alternate universe Miura I’d want people to write Femto/apostle Guts fanfic. So no mention that the Godhand can only appear when someone uses a behelit, maybe even imply somehow that Femto could show himself to Guts at any time, he’s just snubbing him.

Anyway yeah, ty for asking.

also if you’re interested I once wrote a very long and involved post here about what I’d change if I had free range to adapt Berserk if you want a longer answer with more details that follows the actual story much more closely (including a less involved take on my answer here lol).

#Anonymous #ask #a #b #theme: opinion #theme: adaption

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satoshi-mochida · 6 months

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Boyhood’s End Episode 1 delayed to spring 2024

Gematsu Source

Publishers WSS playground and PLAYISM, and developer Bukiri Clock have delayed the first episode of episodic science-fiction horror adventure game Boyhood’s End from its previously planned fall 2023 release window to spring. It will be available for PC via Steam.

Here is an overview of the game, via its Steam page:

About

Characters

-Giovanni

“Shut up! I couldn’t care less about your twisted logic, but here’s the thing, I’m a human! And you’d better start treating me like one!”

-Campanella

“Come on, show me! Show me the true potential of humanity! Show me something unpredictable, something that could ruin the world as we know it—something a man-made thing could never do!”

Watch a new trailer below.

Hacking Trailer

English

youtube

Japanese

youtube

Korean

youtube

Simplified Chinese

youtube

#Boyhood’s End #WSS Playground #Playsim #Bukiri Clock #Adventure game #Gematsu #Youtube

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arsonistslut · 3 years

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Chapter 27: Jeff Vs Jane

Eventually, after hours of wandering around in the dark, dingey alleyways of New Orleans, he came across a large, slightly rusted gate that beheld a long dirt path, leading to a towering home that he quickly recognized. Janey's new home. He'd seen it on the news during his stay in that mental institute sometimes, but he obviously never got to see it in person like this. Woods found the lack of a chain surprising..she was practically inviting him inside at this rate. Pushing open the door and proceeding down the driveway, he licked away the splattered blood near his mouth, the metallic sting that hit his tongue tasting much more familiar than it had any right to, this far forward from the day he mutilated his own face. He tried to open the front door, and when it didn't budge, he forced it open with his shoulder, seeing no point in not making a ruckus due to the secluded nature of the house and Jane being the only tenant that he knew of. Gripping the handle of his knife tightly, he called out to her.

"Oh, Janey! I'm here!"

He could already hear a door open upstairs, so he looked in the fridge and grabbed a bottle of red wine, pouring himself a glass from the cabinet as a frazzled-looking Jane cautiously walked down the stairs.

"C'mon, Janey..try it. I ain't afraid of you. Try and kill me, my back's turned."

Jeff downed the entire glass in one go..no attack came.

"Jeff..I'd sure as shit like to, but..hatred fucked me up. I think..I think I just need to forgive you, since..what you did has stayed with me for the last year. Besides..it might help you, too, and you seriously need it.."

Woods shook his head, letting out a long, pained sigh, his back still turned to Arkansas.

"I can't be helped, Jane. I don't want to be, either. Last time that happened, we both know how that ended. More fucking people died, that's all my life is! An endless cycle of death and..fuckin' depravity!"

"...Jeff. It doesn't have to be like that, though. I-I want to help you, I want all of this to just-"

"I'm unfixable, you dumb whore!!"

Jeff turned around as he yelled at Jane, the blood staining his clothes becoming all too visible as he approached, drawing his knife from his jacket's pocket.

"Look at me! I'm a goddamn monster, and that's all I'll ever be!"

"Who..Who'd you kill this time..?"

Morbid curiosity drove her at this point, horror plain on her rapidly whitening face. She could hardly describe how surreal it was seeing him face-to-face again..the flesh on his body stretched impossibly thin from heavy scarring, his face still split open from the knife he took to his face a year ago, blood riddling his whole body and dripping from his blade like a leaking faucet. It called to mind the horrifying mental images of the monsters she dreamed up in her head from mere description when she read a horror novel, except that horror was plain to see. It stood plain in front of her, holding a blood-drenched blade, fury in it's all too human eyes.

"Your adoptive family, Janey..old Donnie and whoever your brother was."

"No..you didn't..p-please tell me you didn't.."

Jane knew the request made no sense, but she refused to believe he'd taken them away, too..they were all she had outside of the news people she spoke to on occasion.

"Oh, they're dead, girlie..and you're fuckin' next! I'm about to finish what I started when I torched your house and cut your bitch's head off!"

Arkansas felt a tidal wave of rage begin to overtake her as he spoke. She didn't have anyone anymore. Jeff had taken everything, but he'd forgotten a principle rule of life.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

As Jeff let out a war cry and charged Jane at full speed, she grabbed a fire poker from the fireplace and rammed it into his upper lip, dragging it upwards until she'd cut straight through his left eye and it flew out, bits of his pale flesh still stuck to the poker. Woods fell backwards, leaning against the wall and screaming out in pain, dropping his knife as he screamed and cursed.

"My fuckin' eye!! You-"

Jeff was quickly interrupted by the sound of firewood igniting. Jane had thrown a lit zippo into her fireplace, and she grabbed him by his hoodie and proceeded to throw him into the fire, the wounded side of his face being pressed against the harsh flames. However, she was unable to do any more damage before he scurried away, half of his hair and the side of his head burnt, skin melting off like cheese on a pizza. Jane snatched up his knife and ran at him, leaping in the air only to be tackled mid-flight and sent through her coffee table with a crash, Woods sitting up and straddling her quickly as he attempted to wrestle the blade away from her. However, a shard of glass from the shattered table driven into his side hindered his attack, Jane sliding out from underneath him as he willed himself to remove the glass from his side. He looked behind him and saw Jane holding his knife, raising it in the air to stab him in the back, so he kicked her straight in the jaw with his foot, sending her reeling backwards from the force of the kick.

"I'll make sure this place burns as well, y'hear me?!"

He spat out at Jane, getting up and ignoring the pain shooting through his face and jamming the shard of glass into her shoulder, lifting her by the neck as he did and gaining a running start. Jeff flung his adversary straight through the door to her guest room, Jane narrowly dodging her head being crushed when he followed up with trying to jump on her head. He cackled maniacally between breaths, the adrenaline pumping through his veins serving as an intoxicating drug that kept him fighting. Narrowly dodging a blade to his neck, Woods grabbed a baseball bat from underneath the bed and swung for the fences at his rival, who dodged underneath and stabbed him in the knee with frightening speed. Forcing him down to a knee, Jane took her alarm clock and smashed it against his face, blood flying from his mouth as he fell onto the bed. Arkansas ripped the knife from his leg and went to stab him again, climbing in and smashing the blade next to his head, a narrow and costly miss.

He delivered a destructive fist right to Jane's cheek, before grabbing her black dress and smashing his head into her nose, shattering it like a window. Jeff kept hold of her, striking her in the gut with his knee before she broke out of grip, stumbling backwards as blood flew from the massive wound in his face. He knew he needed to end this fight sooner rather than later, so ripping the knife from the bed, he drove the blade deep within her stomach. His breath hitched as she screamed, the satisfaction he'd longed for finally arriving in an orgasmic wave. Longing for more of that sweet catharsis, he pressed Jane against the wall and twisted the blade, awful growling noises emanating from him as he savored every second, every droplet of Arkansas's blood running over his fingers, every disgusting noise she made as she coughed up blood.

"I..am the deadliest man on earth!"

He proudly boasted, a heat of the moment statement that was quickly cut short when Jane kicked him full-force in the balls.

"You..are the most self-absorbed lunatic on earth."

She hissed out as she fled, Jeff in too much pain to retort or give chase. Once he recovered, he scooped up the knife she'd pulled out and began hunting for her, listening as closely as he could for any noise, even though he'd lost his hearing and his vision from Arkansas's initial assault with the poker and the fireplace. Following the trail of blood she'd left behind from her various wounds, Woods went upstairs and walked toward his enemy's room, swinging open the door.

"Come on, Janey..I know you're here.."

The door slammed behind Jeff, Jane standing in the way with a lit molotov cocktail in her grasp.

"That doesn't matter now, does it?"

"...Oh. Oh, I see! You wanna burn me alive again..tell me this, how are you gonna get out of this exactly?"

"I don't intend to. Not anymore."

Jane threw the cocktail on the ground between them, the fire quickly spreading around them. Jeff's first idea was to escape through the window. No dice, they were boarded up from the inside. He couldn't tell from the outside due to the shades blocking his view of the boards, and she was in the way of his only exit. It didn't matter. Jeff ran forward, ignoring the fire around them and lifting Jane up before she could react, slamming her through the wooden, flaming floor of her room and landing in the bathroom, the ceramic bathtub breaking before their combing weight.

The harsh landing the two shared winded them both, Jeff and Jane lying in a pool of their mixing blood for what felt like centuries. Suddenly, Jane grabbed a shattered piece of the bathtub and smashed it over Jeff's head, sending him rolling away from her as she used her vanity to get up, sparks and flaming wood falling around her as the upstairs caught fire. Arkansas watched and smiled as Jeff ripped a towel rack from the wall, charging her and swinging wildly and desperately, leaving himself open to a punch in the wound in side, doubling him over and giving Jane the opportunity to send him stumbling back into the living room. They could both smell smoke, the house was beginning to burn down around them.

"Anything to say before I send you straight to hell?"

She asked, grabbing a hold of Woods's ankle. He couldn't respond..he could barely stay conscious at this point.

"Oh, don't go to sleep, Jeffrey..you won't wake up."

Jane broke his ankle with a loud snap, his foot bent at a horrid angle as she left him there to die.

Arkansas nearly passed out herself as she dragged herself out of the rapidly-igniting house, not caring that everything she owned was inside, charring away. She didn't notice any officers arriving, so as her vision got blurrier and blurrier, she turned around and flipped up both her fingers at the raging inferno her home had become, before finally passing out in her driveway.

#creepypasta #jeffery woods #liu woods #jeff the killer #sully #jane the killer #tw violence #tw coughing up blood

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