#isn’t magical an unknowable

[literallyaflame]

i would also be interested in a post on the whole anti/proship topic, bc im also firmly in camp >can we buy some nuance here? no?< (tho i do have a "side" i lean more towards ig) so im defs interested in other ppl having opinions that fall outside the black/white view n talkin about it...bc i feel like lots of us either dont talk abt it both bc of the worry u mentioned abt getting backlash, or bc it just feels like talking to a wall bc nuance is ignored a lot...

my argument is just that “fiction affects reality” and “fiction doesn’t affect reality” both fail to address the issue. fiction is the product of reality, not the other way around. it represents pre-existing notions about the world, and must be evaluated for tonality and intent, not the mere presence of Bad Things

is this depiction of sexual abuse an endorsement of the behavior, or is it a dark erotic fantasy, written by a self-aware author? i don’t know, i would have to read it to find out. does this horror movie fetishize violence against minorities? perhaps, depending on who wrote it and who the intended audience was. is this loli/shota drawing the product of someone who seeks to abuse children, or does the artist just really like frilly dresses?

more importantly, how the fuck do we tell the difference?

well, we’ve gotta start applying media literacy skills to adult content. it’s not any different from anything else, aside from the guilt and shame factor. if we accept that depictions of murder and violence may or may not be problematic, then we have to accept the same truth about sex. not all stories function as self-insert wish-fulfillment, erotica included—but erotica can tell us something about an author’s relationship with sex in the same way that horror can tell us something about an author’s relationship with gore and violence

how and why people consume this content varies, and may or may not be healthy. regardless, we don’t evaluate fiction based on how it may “affect reality.” not even propaganda, the mind-changer of fiction, is that simple; it appeals to pre-existing biases and pre-existing notions because, again, fiction is a product of reality. not the other way around.

you can’t really defend the idea that “everyone who depicts [x] is endorsing [x] and attempting to normalize [x] and is therefore evil” because it’s neither universally true nor productive. you also can’t defend the idea that fiction is utterly divorced from reality, because artists and writers live in reality, and reality influences their art

i hate to say this, but when it comes down to it, i personally don’t give a shit if someone ships wincest or has a ddlg fetish or whatever. maybe they’re a horrible monster or maybe they just have a run-of-the-mill erotic fascination, i don’t know. i don’t feel the need to pass final judgement on individual strangers, even if they make me uncomfortable. i’m more interested in advocating for 1.) ethical, enforceable rules about tagging and filtering sensitive and/or adult content 2.) systems that prevent real-life abuse without reducing it to an evil subtype of person and 3.) the case-by-case application of media literacy skills to the aforementioned adult content, which can absolutely perpetuate all sorts of alarming ideas about sex & abuse

#tw pedophila mention #tw abuse #kind of #listen i mentioned lolishota i feel the need to tag for something fhsjfhdj #dear god i hope this makes sense #I was gonna make this a longer thing and cite sources but tbh #when you break it down it’s not that complex #like #the difference between fetishizing a trans person and eroticizing a trans person #isn’t magical an unknowable #and the solution isn’t ‘ban!! ban all the trans sex videos!!!!’ #it’s just a matter of… you know…. the relationship between the audience and the creator #how and why that relationship is facilitated who benefits from it etc #*and unknowable #man i hate typing tags on mobile lmao

[smallest-fish-inthesea]

I’ve seen a lot of people complain about tmagp and say it doesn’t have the magic or draws them in like TMA did and I think it’s for multiple reasons

1: some of the cases are written by guest writers so ofc it’s not gonna be the same as Jonny and Alex’s writing

2: they’re not bullshitting their way through it anymore you can’t unlearn how to write/soundscape a podcast and part of the reason the quality is so good these days is BECAUSE of us, the fandom, funding them. They’re not recording under a pile of duvets anymore and it shows [i understand the appeal of the rawness of the earlier seasons of TMA where everything isn’t quite as polished but also like. Why are some of you mad about this???{

3: and potentially most importantly this is a universe we already know

I’ve heard Jonny go on multiple times about how the thing with TMA is that it becomes less scary the more it goes on because you discover more and more, you can’t be scared of the unknown if you already know what is hiding in the dark, it loses a certain sense of power.

And tmagp is (to an extent) a universe we have already discovered, we already know it, we know about the fears and the entities and avatars, ofc things don’t seem to work exactly the same but that doesn’t take away the fact that if you’ve listened to TMA you already have a WEALTH of knowledge about how things tend to function so of course it’s going to seem less horrifying and less intense because that’s just how things work here

I just think it’s a shame and a lot of people aren’t necessarily giving tmagp a fair chance over something that is literally impossible to change. Like said before, you can’t simply unknow things and that’s part of what makes the Magnus universes so interesting

Anyway. This isn’t like a call out post for anyone specific I’ve just seen a lot of it on my dash and it’s been frustrating me a lil

#the magnus archives #tma #tma podcast #the magnus protocol #tmagp #tmagp podcast #rusty quill #jonny sims #Alexander j Newall #personal #Jonathan sims #no spoilers

[notenoughfanficofthis]

Meant to be

Dark!Morpheus Soulmate AU

Trapped in this prison for almost 80 years, powerless, weak. He had lost so much already Jessemy, His kingdom, his relics what other torment awaits him. His captors endlessly asking for gifts or the illusion of safety in exchange for his freedom. The king wasn’t one to relent so he waited. Petty and pissed he waited and waited, and waited looking for an opportunity to escape this prison.

Normally he’ll remain still in silence waiting for his moment, but today was different. There was something in the air he couldn’t quite figure out. Sitting up abruptly when feeling a sudden pull, as if soemthing was calling out to him. For the first time in years the feeling of desperation overcame the feeling of pettiness leaving him restless wanting out of his cage impossibly more then ever pressing his hands against the glass. His sudden movements left the guards watching him on edge for this is the first time they’ve seen him in any sort lively. Nervous it made them but they knew he couldn’t get out, could he?

Unbeknownst to everyone in the room soemthing was happening. A child was born, it was an everyday occurrence for humans to have children but this one is more special than anyone had yet to realize as the first time in millennium a soulmate had been birthed as a gift to the Endless. It’s as if someone had taken pity on the god that’s been trapped and in fear of how it would effect him and the waking world when he gets out the cosmos blessed the king with his other half. Such pure magic that was meant to bring mortals together in early times of man it had never before done to an Endless.

Morpheus didn’t know at the time what it was but a sense of calm euphoria overcame him. A peace he hadn’t felt in a long time, though still trapped in his glass cage for the first time in years he felt his body relax and bask in the feeling of the pull that’s calling out to him. Something about this pull also began to stir something feral in him, something dark.

Years passed since the first feeling the pull call out to him and he hadn’t gotten any easier. Though, powerless he found himself able to dream -no not his own but one he’s put on spectator mode for quite sometime now. Watching , waiting as he always does. He often dreams of a young girl running about in the meadows blissfully unaware of the darkness of the world that had yet to seep into her. He’s gotten quite used to the young female, after a while you could say he had grown rather attached to the young lady having no choice but continuing to watch her grow over the years.

Soon the young female had grown into a beautiful women. She enticed him in every way possible as he became more and more restless watching this now grown women. He believed his presence to be hidden, unknowing to the female tired of being a spectator in her dreams for once he wanted to reach out and hold this women close to him. He’s uncertain as to why he’s grown so attached to the female, why are these feelings coming so natural for him. As if it isn’t odd of him to want a being a mortal at that as much as he craved the embrace of this women.

Only a year before his release was he finally able to make contact with her. Unbeknownst to morpheus the women had knew of his presence all of her life. Always seeing him from the corner of her eye in her dreams. Though, unfamiliar with the man she had never grown to fear him. If anything she wanted to step closer to this being, touch him. Of course she had found it strange that she’s dreaming of a being as beautiful as him that she’s sure she’s never met but something in her told her he meant no harm. In fear of approaching this beautiful being that he’ll disappear if she tried to make contact, so from a distance she admired him. Grown to love him even despite never having officially met or spoke with the man.

So imagine the feeling that overcame her when one day basking in the sun watching the life that surrounds the meadow in her dream she suddenly felt arms wrap around her from behind. Though unexpected for some reason she wasn’t scared if anything she leaned back furthering the embrace sighing in content. Somehow she knew it was the man who’s always been a spectator in her dreams. No words was shared between them at first merely just basking in the feeling of each other’s skin resting against one another. After a while of this peaceful silence she felt him moved not wanting him to go just yet to clutches onto his arms wanting to bask in this feeling a little longer sensing her desperation he chucked remaining still of his hold. The sound of his laughter left a strange sensation in the women a feeling that hadn’t lightened since.

Her dreams after went on like this for quite sometime never really getting a good look of the man who now spends every minute of her dreams laying in warm embrace. One day she grew too restless despite having spent so much time together they’ve shared little to no words with each other. The feeling that overwhelmed her in his presence became too much to bear. So, the next night she dreamt she was determined to get answers. Waiting for the feeling of the warm embrace that followed her dream lover she’s quick to escape the hold and get a good look of the man who’s been consuming every fiber of her being. To think he was beautiful was afar words did no justice to being able to see him up close. He looked startled not expecting her to change the of routine but he remained quiet waiting, watching for her next move. All words she had planned to say to the man caught in her throat. Something was overcame her and before she knew it she grabbed a hold of his face leaning forward not exactly knowing what she’s aiming for. He lets her do this both beginning to breathe heavier then before as they wait for the other to make the first move. Timid and scared she begins to second guess herself and back away but morpheus had waited to long for a moment such as thing as he lunged forward drowning in the warmth of her lips. Unable to help the urge to return the kiss and more she’s ripped out of her dream caused by the sound of her alarm blaring.

The abrupt departure left morpheus aching for more, yearning to be in the presence of this women in the waking world as he does in the dreaming. He’s decided, he needs to get out. Now. Becoming restless once again as the feeling of her lips torched him. He wanted more. He had figured long ago that the pull was the women he had been watching over the years. He wants to answer the call, to run to her side but as always he had to wait and wait and wait until he finally had his moment.

————————————————————————-

The alarm did no justice to calm her racing heart and thoughts as she had been ripped from what she believed to be the best dream ever.

But that’s all it is to her. A dream. Despite how strongly she felt for the man in her dreams time and time again she had to remind herself that he wasn’t real. What she’s feeling isn’t real. But no matter how many times she chants those words to herself everytime she wakes up she can’t help but still be consumed by the being that consumed her every waking and resting thoughts.

When he had first appeared to her in her dreams her waking life paid the price as she tried within all her power to go back and spend all of her time being with the man of her dreams. When it began to consume the life she had built in the waking world she had to pull herself together. Try to find comfort in actual real life people instead of yearning for a dream. Seeking out for an attachment for someone to spark that feeling he gave she had went through many lovers but none filling the hole that he left. Nevertheless she kept trying. She had too.

She spent her day as she does almost every day it seems now, where she’s just barely getting through life dragging her feet wherever she goes counting down the minutes she’ll be home and asleep. But, she noticed the next night that he hadn’t come to her. Not any night after that for a long time. Used to his presence all her life she can’t help but endlessly call out to him hoping he’d appear but he never did come back. She felt rejected and ashamed those feelings bleeding into her waking life. It wasn’t until the third day of the second month she decided it’s time to move on no matter how much her body aches for her dream man.

It took some time but she moved on found herself a love that reminds her of her dream man all while trying to fool herself that he wasn’t what she needed anymore. Found friends to keep her company filling up the deafening silence that filled her dreamless nights. She slowly began to come to terms with the fact that the comfort his presence brought her whole life is gone now. No longer waiting for him to return after a while she began to rest easy once again. The ache that grew in every fiber of his being since his absence became background noise a part of her every day life she barely notices anymore.

But, he hadn’t forgotten her nor did he abandon her. It’s as if someone is getting sick pleasure watching him receive further torment no longer able to enter her dreams after so long it left him once again lonely, angry. He had so much taken from him but this this he can not let slip from his grasp. Fortunately, after a century of this torture the seal had been broken. The rush of his freedom within grasp all he can think about is running to that pull.

————————-

During his escape she could feel his presence vibrating in every fiber of her being. The intensity of it was too much that it had woken her up startled from the sensation. Looking around the room to find everything still in place and significant other asleep beside them they sigh in relief letting herself relax into another slumber.

Soon, I’ll come for you, my love

Overwhelmed with emotions hearing the voice of the being she tried to move on from she once again shot up the bed startled. This time it had waken her lover who tried to bring her comfort with affection. Half asleep they lay her back down and hover over asking if everything is alright.

But, before she could answer looking around the room trying to get a grasp of safety she stills silver eyes watching in the dark corner behind her unsuspecting lover. It’s stare was of a predator everything about it screamed familiar but even so she let out a gasp keeping her eyes on the figure trying to push far back into her bed alerting her lover who followed her gaze to find nothing. Trying to calm the situation they tried to comfort her as she processes what she’s feeling, what she’s seeing.

The figure now gone she tries to let herself relax once again, maybe it’s just exhaustion and stress from work getting to her head finally. It took some time but after a while she finally fell back asleep. But this time is was different.

It’s her dream man. Standing before her in all black clothing with a glare she can’t decipher. He doesn’t speak he doesn’t move and it begins to worry her.

“Wher-“

“Who was that.” He coldly cut her off. “The one who lays beside you, what are they to you, my love.”

Confused she shook her head asking what he meant he couldn’t possibly mean her lover for she’s never dreamt of them nor normally have much memory of them in the dreaming.

“No matter. I have some business to attend too but until then, love, wait for me. I will come for you soon.” Unable to help himself wanting to taste her lips on his again he brings her in close in a hard suggestive kiss. The longing for one another overwhelmed their every being as they once again basked in each other’s embrace after so long too long. “Shall I return and they’re still with you, I will show no mercy to the one laying beside you. For you are mine and I tend to collect what belongs to me.”

The look in his eyes leaves her speechless sending chill down her spine. He couldn’t possibly mean it right?This isn’t real. He’s not real. Not waiting for a response he leaves her in a pleasant dream her body no longer aching as she had her fill of her dream man.

How she hoped to see him again.

#morpheus imagines #the sandman fanfic #the sandman imagine #morpheus x reader #dark!morpheus #morpheus

[moonmeg]

A little addition to "Curious"

“D’aw and yet here ye are unable to live wi’out me”

Robyn rolled his eyes as a smile began tugging on the corners of his mouth. There was some truth to it. Micah was his best friend, the person he’d trust with his life and imagining a life without those red curls, trilled Rs and filthy tongue was impossible. At the very least, Robyn thought, it would be a rather unhappy life without Micah.

As he stared at the ceiling of the barn the thoughts came rushing back. Endless trains of thoughts pulling him from one question to the next. That was nothing new. His mind was always restless and always made it difficult for him to concentrate on something fully for a longer amount of time. It’s been this way since his childhood but this train of thoughts was different somehow. Vivan’s words didn’t let him go. Who was his “somebody else”? What does Vivian know that he doesn’t? And instead of sitting and thinking of who it is, all his thoughts could be stilled with a little glimpse into a crystal ball. The solution is right there. And Robyn certainly didn’t care much for rules. He could ask someone else to take a look but…

Micah was right. Oracle magic is not to be underestimated and knowing your future may be more dangerous than one might think at first. And what if he does suddenly know who he’s going to be with? Wouldn’t it feel forced? Like it didn’t naturally develop but because “it must happen”. That would affect the whole relationship, no? Isn’t that the nice part about romance? That you yourself don’t know what will happen. That your unknowing will make the little things and the firsts of a relationship so much more meaningful? Even the kiss with Vivian has a meaning now that it wouldn’t have had in a case of knowing how she felt and that she will kiss him.

A bunch of hay suddenly poking his face ripped him out of his deep thoughts.

“Ey!”, he exclaimed disgusted. “Ew, Mike, what the heck?!”

“Oh, sorry, was that not the wheelbarrow? Oopsies.”, Micah grinned.

“You bastard-”, Robyn started grinning himself and stood up from the hay seat, gently pushing Eilidh’s (the unicorn) head off his laps, “-I’m gonna kick your ass.”

“Come and try, Shorty.”

“Alright that’s it!”

Robyn picked up small piles of hay and threw them at Micah, who dodged them without throwing anything back. Laughing and with another pile in his hands, Robyn approached Micah. The freckled boy however, held out the pitchfork to his attacker.

“Put the pitchfork down.”, Robyn halted smiling.

“Put the hay down.”, Micah replied, “Then we’ll talk ‘bouta pitchfork.”

“You’re a very unfair opponent, good Sir. You attacked me first! Now you’re using weapons I don’t have. Make it fair. Hay against hay.”

“Only if there’s ceasefire while I put it away.”

“You have my word.”

A moment of delay. Nothing happened as they both smirked at each other. Micah placed the tool on the ground and kicked it behind him, never once breaking the eye contact with the brunet.

“Good.”, Robyn tried to suppress his smile and be fully in the role of a dueling opponent, who would ensure to be on the winning side, “Now eat hay!”.

Micah dodged the hay attacks once again, still not throwing anything back. He instead attempted to flee, running around in the barn with Robyn right behind him. Both laughing heartily in this game of chase. Robyn chased after Micah for a good minute until Micah’s reflexes were too slow and gave Robyn the opportunity to pin him to the wooden wall by the shoulders.

“Where to now, Freckles?”, he smirked up at Micah.

Micah smiled, panting and catching his breath, trying to still his heart beat along with it.

“Alright, alright!”, he laughed, “I surrender.”.

Robyn didn’t give a response. He tried to catch his own breath and only managed to stare at Micah. Stare at his face as if he’s never seen the light brown freckles all over it or the reddish brown of his eyebrows and eyelashes. As if he looked at those golden eyes for the first time and as if he first notices the chunks of red hair falling into that pale face. As if this was the first time he noticed how beautiful all those traits were together. His breath calmed.

“Rob? Ye- uh… ye can let me go now.”.

Robyn blinked rapidly a few times and pulled himself out of his thoughts.

“Oh, yes, right. Sorry.”, he let go of Micah’s shoulders and backed away, “I uh.. I spaced out for a little there.”.

Micah chuckled. “I noticed. It’s alright.”.

The redhead looked around the hay-covered barn with a long uttered “Well”.

“We better get this cleaned up again before ma dad notices.”, he rubbed his neck.

“Yeeeaah”, Robyn chuckled, “Sorry about that too.”.

“Nonsense, I got myself into this literal mess. It was fun though.”, Micah turned and smiled at Robyn.

“It was.”.

Robyn picked up a broom from the corner of the barn. He better forget about whatever that intense stare of him just was. He wasn’t staring in that sense.

Right?

Micah was attractive to him. But that’s nothing new.

There wasn’t more to it.

…

Right?

#running late to work for this #tdaac #robyn clawthorne #micah bower #pls excuse any typos i had no time to proofread 😭

[quibbs126]

So instead of more stylized Cookies, I drew that cacaolily redo yesterday (I just forgot about posting)

Anyways, so this is Night Rider. She’s replacing my old cacaolily kid, Snowdrop, because I thought I could do better (and frankly, Snowdrop didn’t have a personality outside of being a White Lily clone). So Snowdrop doesn’t exist anymore, and Night Rider replaces her

In any case, let’s get on to Night Rider herself

So basically, Night Rider here goes around Earthbread, seeking out and learning secret, ancient or forbidden knowledge/magic. She ultimately has good intentions in her research, she probably started by trying to look for a way to ultimately stop the Licorice Sea, or maybe to revive Pure Vanilla, but she can get carried away with her research and not think about the consequences of it (which I sort of tried to imply with the sketch, she’s trying to bring the Soul Jam to its fullest potential, but in the process awakening the Beasts). She’s been doing this for several decades and she really only visits her home sparingly; she’s gained a really poor sense of time and always thinks it’s been less time than it actually has

Outside of that, she’s a very cranky and antisocial person. Her decades of mostly isolated research have led her to view other Cookies as either not being able to appreciate the knowledge she yearns for, or that they ask dumb questions about her research. She respects and tolerates her father and the other Ancients (her mother disappeared when she was young, so she doesn’t really have a connection to her or opinions about her), even if she thinks they can fall into those categories. She can actually like people, and she can act like a decent person around them (or if she has to), but it’s pretty rare. She probably wasn’t always like this, it’s just something she built up over the years

Her research means she’s probably way ahead of all the other characters on the plot, like she’s known about the Beasts and faeries for years, but due to her general isolation and always looking for new knowledge, she’s woefully unknowing (that’s not the right word) of what’s going on in Earthbread right now. Like she doesn’t know Pure Vanilla’s back, her mother’s connection to Dark Enchantress, or even that her brother was banished in the first place

She likes her father well enough, she was mostly raised by him and she respects him, even if they value different things. She doesn’t see him as much due to her research, but she doesn’t see it as meaning she has any less connection to him. As said prior, since White Lily disappeared when she would have been young, she doesn’t really know her mother and isn’t sure what to think of her (though if she’s been to Faeriewood, she would have chosen to avoid White Lily’s coffin). Due to her nature of spending so much time away from home, she and Dark Choco barely know each other, but she thinks he’s fine enough. She thinks he’s just following in their father’s footsteps and being a good swordsman and prince back home, nothing out of the ordinary to note. She probably would have a reaction to knowing this isn’t the case

I’m also thinking she uses some sort of shadow magic, in part because of her research (and also because of her name)

I do kind of want to draw a younger version of Night Rider as well, before she started on her endless search for knowledge, since back then she was probably more normal

Can you tell I’ve thought way too much about her? Because I have

Anyways, let’s get on to other stuff

The name Night Rider comes from the night rider lily, since it’s a black flower

Night rider:

So if you can tell, she doesn’t look too much like her concept sketch. That’s because originally when I was making that, she was supposed to be a guy who was a knight that lived out in nature, or something like that. The original Night Rider concept was completely different. But then when I was listening to Unleash the Magic yesterday, it got me inspired to make this new version of Night Rider. If I ever bring that concept back, it’d probably be like her twin brother or something

Anyways, so I made her hair have gradients instead of streaks because I thought it worked better with her colors of red and black. Also Dark Choco sort of has that. Speaking of the red, it’s supposed to be because of the flower, even if the red doesn’t necessarily fit in with the rest of the family’s color scheme

Speaking of colors, my roommate told me she might have too many colors, which is honestly fair. She’s got black, red, purple and green in her design. It was originally going to be black red and purple, but then I wanted a pop of another color for her bag, so I added in the green. Maybe I’ll go back and tweak her colors more. If this becomes no longer applicable to her design, know that I changed it

I realize that her outfit may look a bit odd, as like some sort of bodysuit or whatever, but it was kind of just what came to my head. Maybe it’s some sort of special suit she got during her travels

Her design is probably simplistic, but it’s not necessarily bad. But I may want to tweak it a bit later on, we’ll see

But yeah, that’s Night Rider, hope you like her

#speaking of stylized cookies I kind of want to make the fankids in the stylized way as well #I specifically want to draw Night Rider and Vanilla Lily together #since they’ve got some issues and they’re both Lily kids #I just need an elderlily kid with issues to complete the trio #anyways #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #fankid #fanchild #dark cacao cookie #white lily cookie #cacaolily #cookie run oc #night rider cookie #snowdrop cookie #my ocs #my art

[dailyadventureprompts]

Footnotes on foes: Eldrazi

Hey DMs, do you need an unfeeling aberrant force to threaten your campaign world at various scales but don’t want to use mindflayers? Bored of lovecraftian knockoffs threatening to drown reality in abstract but unspecified “madness”? Well have I got the monster for you friends, It’s the Eldrazi: an unknowable and all consuming horde that’s here to reduce your setting to nothingness.

I’ve always had a fondness for the Eldrazi after they originally debued in magic the gathering, alien beings that sap all life from their surroundings and seem to have no other aims beyond the total and complete obliteration of whatever world they happen to dwell on. (plus they have a super cool look, and in the end isn’t that what matters?)

Eldrazi have a lot of mystery surrounding them, but in trying to puzzle them out I came up with my own headcanon that was too good not to use.  Below the cut I’ll go into detail on how I think the eldrazi function, and how you can best use them in your campaigns.

TLDR: The eldrazi are the great decomposers of the multiverse, reducing dead worlds down into their base components, and then into dust to be reabsorbed by the cosmic cycles of the astral sea. A perfectly natural process, but one that can go catastrophically wrong should the eldrazi be drawn to a world that has not yet died as they often are by witless dabblers or disruptions to those same astral currents. When they end up on a world they’re not supposed to be they end up creating wastelands, fighting against nature like an infection.  

While they’re scattered about many regions of the astral sea where stagnation looms, the eldrazi mainly occupy a region of the multiverse known as the dead realms, a cosmic landfill where realities decay into one another and the faceless horrors can do their work.

It is important to note that the eldrazi are not a species, or in many ways actual organisms: Each eldrazi brood (differentiated by trends in their alien anatomy and what they transmute material into) is the intrusion of a singular will into the cosmos with its own aims, which constructs its bodies from the errant energies of whatever world it happens to interface with. This makes communication with the eldrazi highly difficult, especially for those who encounter them without prior knowledge, as the will that pilots an eldrazi brood experiences the whole of the brood at once, many bodies at once, many dimensions at once. Even the most intelligent and independent members of a brood are merely hands in comparison with the greater body, able to exert a greater tactile degree of control but not actively conscious.

This alien existence extends to their anatomy: resembling summoned or illusory creatures, the body of an individual Eldrazi lacks blood or organs, and is instead a notional matter primarily used to store the magical potential they sap out of the worlds they digest. When an eldrazi dies they do not rot, instead they erode, the magic that composes their being leaking back into the laylines they siphoned dry.  Such transference can cause surges of wild magic proportional to the size and number of the brood slain.

This lack of a physiognomy extends to how Eldrazi seem to “breed”, budding like fungus or grotesquely merging to form larger bodies, which amounts to the prime entity behind the brood splitting up its focus for multiple tasks.  Sometimes the entity needs to actively participate in its act of decomposition, in which case the brood begins draining all it can, growing all it can, and then merging together into an eldrazi titan. These entities can lay waste to landscapes but also think in ways the disparate brood could do nothing about.

Eldrazi have a strange relationship with magic, in that their singular goal seems to be to extract the magical/living/quintessential essence out of dead worlds, meaning they become very adept at reading and manipulating systems that are built upon these primal currents. Eldrazi broods spread along a plane’s laylines like mushrooms along a rotten branch, sapping at its nutrients till the line goes dead and the landscape with it. This infection can even spread to enchantments, curses, and magical constructs, bringing them into a titan’s influence and even providing a seedbed for the growth of more eldrazi.

Very little of this information is well known by planear scholars, and even less of it is understood by those who might encounter stray eldrazi that’ve ended up scattered on their worlds. What most understand is that the Eldrazi show up following great magical disasters, create a wasteland wherever they go, and seem to have an innate ability to overcome and subvert magical defences. Most are content simply to hunt them on sight, and the prime eldrazi seem more than content to let their stray buds be culled while they focus on the real task of eating worlds.

Adventure Hooks:

High in the mountains there’s said to be the wreck of some kind of flying ship, that locals say they saw hurtling through the sky decades ago only to crash somewhere amid the peaks. The ship is in fact a spelljammer, and salvaging its helm might just be the first step in the party setting off on their first cosmic adventure. All is not well though, as when they begin exploring the high cliffs and isolated valley, they find ship and much of the surrounding landscape has been turned into a spiralling labyrinth of giant bismuth crystals, the haunt of a few eldrazi the jammer crew picked up while fleeing a dying world that ended up scuttling them in the end. 

Powerful spikes of magic draw the eldrazi across the planes, so after the mid-campaign villain attempts their apotheosis and fails miserably, not only to the party have to deal with whatever threat that unleashed, but increasing numbers of sightings of horrifying entities skulking about the countryside near the villain’s old lair. This gives the party a chance to re-explore an old dungeon, finding its corridors warped and its chambers filled with dust. 

Desperate to impress their supervisor by summoning a rare creature from the outer planes, a group of arcane grad students at the local magical college have unwittingly ended up snagging an eldrazi away from its brood, and are intent on studying it. For its part, the eldrazi seems oddly complacent, but is infact exerting its flesh warping influence on the students and the animals surrounding their lab. The party first gets involved tracking drown grotesque chimeras of ratswarms and stray beats, which invariably lead them through the increasingly organic sewers and up into the lab, where the eldrazi has broken containment.   Not all the students are accounted for, and while some got away with benign abnormalities, others have been incorporated into the brood, and will seek new places to take root.

Also, while there’s no official stats for eldrazi, a lot of great creators have already taken the challenge upon themselves, so I encourage you to go out and find some of their work.

#footnotes on foes #MtG #eldrazi #Bestiary #far realm #abberations #dnd #dungeons and dragons #d&d #5e #lovecraft #lovecraftian #horor #monster hunt #Arcane #wizard #Sewers #town #mountain #spelljammer #treasure hunt #aberration

[blueisquitetired]

The Birth of a Shadow

Context for this one: This was the originally planned chapter 15 that….. obviously didn’t work out. The original conceit was that Emmet was having trouble using magic, so he had to dive through his brother’s memories to learn what it felt like. It was supposed to be a journey backwards in time, featuring different times of Ingo’s life before he met Emmet.

Unfortunately, that didn’t really work out, and I ended up cutting the whole thing. We didn’t lose too much in the process, just the exact specifics of Ingo’s past and an explanation for his beef with moms. 

So yeah, here’s what got written out, featuring Ingo’s origin story and a tone that really doesn’t match the rest of the fic.

Length: 2,000 words

Rating: G 

CW: Child endangerment? I guess???

Deep breathes. In and out. Reach inside and-

Opening his eyes, Emmet threw out one of his hands, attempting to channel some unknowable energy. 

Nothing happened.

“Any luck?”

Mai sat on the grass next to him, idly plucking strings on her guitar. This was his third day of magic lessons with her and so far….

“No. Nothing.”

Sighing, Emmet lay down on the grass next to her, looking up at the bright blue sky. At least it was a nice day.

“Maybe it did work, but you just didn’t notice?” Lady Sneasler was sitting a bit away with the rest of the peanut gallery. Not close enough to get in the way, but still easily reachable. “It’s supposed to be kind of subtle right?”

“He would feel it. Probably.” Mai sighed. “At least that’s how it works for me.”

“Right. Because that’s been such a good indicator so far.” It was Melli who spoke this time, the warden having joined the group to help Elesa with her embroidery and just enjoy the show. Emmet was starting to understand why Lady Sneasler didn’t like him much.

Still, he had a point. As much as Emmet appreciated Mai’s assistance, one just couldn’t escape the fact that their magics were completely different. Mai’s were nature spells cast via music, and Emmet’s…

Well it certainly wasn't that.

“Well, does Ingo feel his magic when he casts it?” Mai asked, bringing the group back on track. “His magic would certainly be more similar to yours than mine.”

“Not sure.” Shrugging, Emmet tried to remember times that his brother had used magic- and came up frustratingly short. “He does not like using it. Or talking about it.”

“Too bad.” Mai sighed. “That would have been helpful.”

“Hang on.” Elesa finally spoke up, having been far too concentrated on her embroidery to join in the conversation so far. “Didn’t you say you had Ingo’s memories? Doesn’t that mean you can learn straight from the source? Maybe even figure out how he learned magic originally?”

“Wait what do you mean he has his memories-”

That…. was a good point actually. Emmet had been kind of avoiding touching that part of his psyche at the moment, but there weren't any actual barriers. Still, he was still sort of… put off by the idea.

“Those are private.” He managed finally, working around the bitter taste in his mouth. “I have not received permission. Snooping is a breach of trust.”

“Normally yeah, but this isn’t exactly a normal situation.” Pointed out Lady Sneasler. “You’ll need to be prepared for whatever comes our way. I think Ingo will forgive you for a bit of snooping if it helps save his life.”

“I suppose…”

It still didn’t sit right with Emmet. Sure, they could read each other’s minds whenever they wanted- but that didn’t mean they did! Boundaries were important, and privacy was to be respected. Still, Lady Sneasler was right that this was a special situation….

“….alright.” Taking a deep breath, Emmet attempted to calm his racing heart. “I will look through Ingo’s memories. Try to find out how magic feels. Or how he learned it.”

“Attaboy!” Lady Sneasler grinned. 

Mai seemed a bit more skeptical.

“So how exactly does that… work?”

Emmet shrugged.

“It is like meditation? Kind of? I close my eyes and….” He let out a deep breath and closed his eyes, going boneless. “This will take a while.”

“How long is a while?”

But Emmet didn’t answer, already beginning to tune the rest of the world out and sink into his own subconscious. Carefully, he reached for his brother’s soul, embracing it and sinking into his brother’s memories. He wasn’t exactly sure where to start- memories had a tendency to be a bit finicky after all, but if he just started somewhere familiar and worked his way back….

He thought of the first time they met, an old and messy memory colored by time and his subpar human recollection, only still around because of how many times he’d watched his brother’s version.

A version that was responding to the memory he had fed it, sparking up around him and begging to be recalled.

So he let it.

oOo

Someone was crying.

The monster stopped and listened for a moment, the sound of soft sniffles and a human in distress. It really shouldn’t get any closer, shouldn’t approach, especially not after last time- but there was crying! Crying was something it knew well, and if it could help…

Maybe it could assist from the shadows. As long as it wasn’t seen, there would be no reason for the human too….

This time would be different.

It followed the sound.

As much as Emmet would love to relive that particular memory again, now wasn’t the time. Instead, he honed in on that mention of “last time” pulling on it and looking for the related memory. It wasn’t hard to find.

oOo

[This section would contain several scenes from Ingo’s past in reverse order. This would include him disguising himself as another child and getting run off for being a duplicate, trying to take a human form and not doing a very good job (and getting run off), and him visiting Hisui and having a bad time.]

oOo

First, there was nothing.

Not pain, or sorrow, or even emptiness- no, there was just nothing at all.

And then-

“Oh. It’s beautiful.”

There was something.

A… a face? Yes. A face. A… a red face who was…

“Dude it just looks like a blob with eyes.”

A different voice. A different person? Yes, there they were, behind the face-

“That’s just because you can’t appreciate the sheer craftsmanship on display here.” The face moved, getting taller and… further? Further away. (From what?)

“Sure. Whatever. But does it work?”

“Of course it works! I made it after all!”

“…so you haven’t tested it yet.”

“What’s the point of a test? It’s a changeling. They aren’t complicated.”

There was a conversation happening. That’s what this was. Understanding was… difficult, but possible. The whole thing was quite alien overall.

“Anyway, I’m releasing this bad boy today. You wanna see?”

“Sure I guess. Don’t have anything else planned.”

The face came back(?) bending forward and-

SENSATION!!!!

THERE WAS TOUCH HAPPENING!!!

WHAT?!!!

And with touch came feelings!!! Pride and confidence and-

“Huh. It’s being more squirmy than normal.”

Squirmy? Movement? Was something moving?

“Maybe cause you finished it? So it’s ‘coming to life’ and all that?”

“Yeah maybe. Let’s get going before it gets harder to carry.”

And then.

AND THEN.

Movement! Lots of movement! The squirmy apparently! So much movement and things that had names but there was no time to ponder such things as MOVEMENT WAS HAPPENING.

And then movement stopped happening.

And everything was dark.

“This place good?”

“I think so. I checked out a few houses beforehand and this one had a baby.”

“Cool.”

Movement started up again, going a bit before-

THE TOUCH WAS GONE!!!!

Where did it go?!!!

“Now what?”

“It’s supposed to eat the baby.”

“….maybe you need to move it closer?”

The touch returned briefly…. before disappearing again, replaced by-

Different touch?

Calm touch. Sleepy touch. Touch full of dreams, muted sensations of lightssoundscolorsemotions. Touch that-

There was hunger.

Hunger. Hunger. Hunger.

And emptiness. Something that needed to be filled. Something that could be filled if- if-

If there was eating.

And so there would be eating. There would be devouring. There would be biting and tearing and-

yes

YES!

Yes! There was taste, there was warmth! There was energy and magic and-

PAIN

Pain that caused screaming, pain that caused crying. Pain that was more intense than hunger or pride. Pain that encompassed all else and-

Light.

“Yes yes Johny. Mommy’s here. Now what’s got you so-”

A sharp gasp, thudding footsteps and-

“GET OFF MY BABY!”

Touch. But not gentle touch- rough touch. Pulling and grabbing and flinging. Flying before impact, new fresher pain as-

New impact. New pain. New-

This was danger.

Danger. Danger! Pain meant danger and there was so much pain, so there was so much danger but how was-

And then something happened.

Something happened and suddenly the shadows reached out, sweeping in and pulling out of danger. 

The shadows were gentle. Calm. Quiet and dark and-

Grabbing, pulling, RIPPING and angerangerANGER

“What was THAT!?”

There was laughing.

“I believe that’s what we call a failure Alimar.”

“Shut up. Shut up. This is just- just a slight hiccup. We can just try again.”

Try what again? Why was there anger? Why was there failure? Was it the danger?

And why was the pain still there?

Movement. More. Movement that made the pain stronger. Movement that pulled at somethings. Somethings that could be felt. Somethings that could be moved.

“Stop squirming.”

That wasn’t the only somethings. There was more! More somethings that could also be moved. Easier even, since the voice was not holding them. They could be moved, and they were moved because it was fun and made the pain less noticeable. Oh! Fun! That was new!

“What in Titania’s name has gotten into you?!”

More yanking. The face was back! But it was dark. Because it was night. Strange. Night. Had night existed before? What was night?

“Looks like yelling at it worked.”

“Yeah I guess.”

Night was something that came after day. But day came after night. That didn’t make sense. How could it come before and after?

“Okay. Here’s a new place. Let’s try this again.”

That was how time worked right? Yes, day and night were based off of time. Which was. Harder to understand then day and night combined.

The touch that hurt was gone and the somethings were dropped. They were dropped and-

Huh.

They felt.

The somethings were moved, and where they moved they felt. The feeling was soft. Soft because it was a blanket. That’s what it was. 

“Eat the ####ing baby already.”

The somethings were- they were tendrils? Yes. That’s what they were. The tendrils moved and felt and they felt each other and oh! That was not soft! That was… smooth! Smooth! And both tendrils could feel the other tendril and wasn’t that strange. What were tendrils anyway?

…limbs? Right. And limbs were… uh. They were attached to something alive! And they could do things! 

Obviously. They could move and feel.

But what were they attached to?

“….What is it doing?”

“UGH.”

Touch again! Not good touch!! But! There were more tendrils! More! And they were attached to-

Uh-

“Dude I don’t even think it sees the baby.” 

“Yeah I noticed.”

Actually, what was ‘it’ anyway? There was the human baby- but that couldn’t be ‘it’. And the blankets could not see so. Maybe the tendrils? They were attached to something alive, and if it was alive it could probably see!

But what were they attached to???

They were- They-

???????

No seriously what were they attached to.

There was hunger.

Yes but the tendrils!

Hunger.

The tendrils lead to something but that something did not exist but it could be felt which meant it did exist-

Wait.

Was that seeing?

Hunger

If seeing was happening then seeing was ‘it’ and the tendrils were attached to the it (which was seeing) and seeing happened with eyes that could be moved-

MORE MOVEMENT!

Hungerhungerhungerhunger

Movement that changed seeing!! Yes! Good! Good! That was-

Pride! Pride for figuring it out! Pride for-

hunger

Okay okay hunger. Hunger which meant movement which meant-

What was that?

“…is it broken?”

New thing to move!!! It could be moved and it moved a lot and how many more movement-

HUNGER

Right, right, okay. Movement again which was biting and biting on the baby which brought warmgoodenergymagiclife- AND PAIN AND CRYING!!!

PAIN AND CRYING MEANT DANGER!!! DANGER MEANT SHADOWS AND LEAVE AND AWAY!!!

“Wha- hey where’d it go?!”

“#### it shadow sneaked again. I have to catch it before it-”

NOPE!!

IT WOULD NOT BE GRABBED!

GRABBED WAS PAIN AND PAIN WAS BAD AND IT DID NOT WANT THAT!

“Come back here you little-!”

The shadows pulled it far away. Far far away.

Where it would be safe.

#submas #blue’s writing #submas au #submas fae au #pokemon #subway boss emmet #subway boss ingo #WIP

[merchantarthurn]

Okay so chapter 63 spoilers because I’ve been chatting with Sean about the fucked up implications of the new concrete details we have now and urm. I think? I’ve cracked why I kept fixating on twin theory in addition to treefrey, Silstas, Iguin, tree-people, the Brimhats plans.

So... in parts:

Why Coco?

Chapter 1 - Iguin was selling his magic books to unknowing children in the guise of a Brimhat, which is a pretty major risk when he could have appeared as a Pointed Hat. Multiple books were made.

Chapter 1 (Reproduction Selection) - the place where Iguin was selling this book was Adan Castle, the feudal lord of the area that Coco’s Village is in. And possibly Qifrey’s atelier.

Chapter 1 -  It’s unclear how many local witches there are, but Coco’s excitement at seeing a winged carriage, let alone a witch in person (which she notes is rare) indicates there’s not many. Possibly, Qifrey is the nearest one - since Kahln (with a witch outpost) is on the other side of a mountain range.

Chapter 3 - Based on Alaira and Qifrey’s conversation, there hasn’t been Brimhat activity in 4 years. 

Summary & theory - Iguin was attempting to sell multiple books to Unknowning children (?) in a region where Qifrey was a notable witch. He’s got at least three, and his coin bowl indicates he might have sold more. It’s very possible some of the forbidden magic incidents were related to these books/pens being out in the populace - perhaps people who failed to escape the magic they cast? With later theory in mind, Qifrey and Coco running into each other - when he’s a trial of new forbidden magic, and Coco is some “saviour” - it doesn’t seem like that can be a coincidence. Selling books in this area ups the chance that Qifrey would cross paths with whoever this Unknowning was - and as someone who’s been burnt by memory loss, would be unlikely to hand them over. And with the dangerous magic in the book, the likelihood that a survivor would have hurt a loved one in the process of discovering magic? Very high, and very tempting to try more forbidden magic, even with Pointed Hat guidance. Especially if your teacher is already in proximity to forbidden magic.

And what is Coco meant to do?

Chapter 27 (above)  - Coco is described by Brimhats as their “saviour”... but notably, only those working directly with Iguin. The factions within Brimhat circles isn’t yet understood, she is not called this by Restis’ crew, for example.

Various chapters (45 below) - it’s been referenced by multiple Brimhat factions that reviving the “ways of old” is their goal. And that the current, pointed hat way is not true magic.

Chapter 29 - Iguin notes that the only magic that can save Eunie is magic that was “outlawed long ago” i.e. before the Pact. But Iguin himself knows this magic and uses it - which is ultimately what saves Eunie. Iguin has knowledge of magic from before the Pact.

Summary - Coco is instrumental, to Iguin specifically, in restoring magic to how it was before the Pact. This is a shared goal of the Brimhats we’ve seen so far, but not all of them are looking to use Coco as a specific saviour (Restis does not want her to draw forbidden magic, only to get contact with the King). Notably, we see in Chapter 63 and from Sasaran’s comment about how Eunie’s cloak interfered with the spell that not every Brimhat fully understands forbidden magic and its effects, yet Iguin is able to undo Eunie’s spell despite it technically failing.

What magic was lost, anyway?

This is where Chapter 63′s more solid reveals come into play - note, these are machine translated so I’m going broad rather than specific. Put simply - forbidden magic isn’t just arbitrarily magic drawn on the body. The long, three-pronged symbols here are the same as from the memory glyph and are notably unusual - stretching far outside of the active circles and branching across the body in anatomically informed ways. 

It’s concretely revealed here that the combination of ink and human blood creates enormous magical runaway - such as what we’d seen Iguin use previously, but we weren’t sure if it was his blood that was special or not. 

We know from this chapter that hiding medical knowledge from witches is very much tied to this kind of magic - with “nails” (probably not a good word for it) instead of keystones that require knowledge of anatomy to fully utilise. There also seems to be an issue of blood - mixing medicine and magic unwisely can cause spells to spiral out of control. 

Theory - the specific knowledge of how to prevent such runaways was lost to the Pact, along with a lot of necessary anatomical knowledge. Hence why the King - a descendant of medical witches with a great amount of medical knowledge - is such an interesting target.... for Restis. Not for Iguin.

So what’s Iguin’s deal? And what about the tree’s?

A lot of this is couched in repeated symbolism and the specificity of what Iguin says (in contrast to other Brimhats). For the moment - let’s drop this cute cover page here with the eye-covered tree in the background and simmer for a moment.

First it’s important to establish - what do we know about Silver Trees?

We know they “choose where they want to live... like a human would”, we know their “blood” has magical and poisonous properties (to humans and to themselves). We know their “blood” mixes with human blood to create explosive results. We also know a little of their mythology and history, namely;

A fairytale of a star falling in love with a “maiden of the silverleaf tree” who caught a star in her branches, and giving her magic. She then gave this magic to the world.  This is likely the magic of the body referred to in Chapter 63 - it’s not just “the gift of magic” through drawn spells, it’s in the human body.  In addition, a history of a great forest of Silvertrees transformed by forbidden magic in attempts to revive the dead (before the Pact).

So we’ve got some pieces here - a tale about Silvertrees bringing the first magic to the world, bringing about mankind; a witch of old using the Silvertrees to revive the dead and leaving a forest in ruin; and the knowledge that Silvertrees grow in places that people find peaceful, that they choose their home. Notably, we’ve only seen a few Silvertrees but all of them have seemed old - especially those outside of Silstas. Why did Silstas’ experiments corrupt the trees? Why was this the location that Brimhats were experimenting on Qifrey?

It’s easier to lead with the theory than build to it - there’s people in those trees, and they’ve been around since before the Pact.

Iguin is the first to return - the trial run... which leads us to--

Alright bucko where’s this coming from

I posit that Silstas was not altogether unsuccessful - the Silvertrees were an important medium between the dead and the living, but he never succeeded in the second stage: bringing the dead back from the trees. 

Before magic was changed forever, witches with knowledge of this time were “resurrected” into Silvertrees, in places they held dear, unknowingly saving their knowledge from the Day of the Pact in their boughs. The woodcour so needed for magic is poisonous to tree and human alike because they are alike - and human blood intensifies the magic of the tree’s for the same reason. Human blood in itself has power, stronger power than the trees, for they are no longer living humans. 

Chapter 40 - this handy little image has bothered me for a while for a number of reasons - the eye and the inclusion of a Brimhat in the background in particular. Chapter 63′s confirmation re: blood and ink made it click for me though - what the strange tangling roots could be abstracting into, why there’s an eye in the trunk. I’ve labelled the panel for assistance of what I think happened here.

1) Qifrey’s eye is taken from him, it is used as a blueprint for the Tree (hence the eye in the trunk). Without the knowledge of medical witches past, a person is needed to assist the spell - in this case, Qifrey. 

2) The mix of blood and ink is powerful enough to resurrect a person contained within the tree - the dripping lines and the transformation of the roots show this formation of a mysterious, solitary Brimhat. 

3) My theory that this is Iguin - armed with knowledge of how magic was before the Pact. In addition to the spell that saves Eunie, he also knows twin vessel magic - which Qifrey notes was magic lost to the Pact. He speaks as if he witnessed it himself, is highly associated with Eyes.

So... he hides his face, we established, and I think this is for good reason - magic done on the body needs to be highly specific, less it lead to runaway reactions or unforeseen outcomes, so the resurrection of a person who’s been dead for god knows how long isn’t gonna result in that person looking... well like they used to look. We’ve seen parts of his face and they seem rather normal so... how’d that end up happening? 

Well....

Yes, maybe that’s silly - but especially in the early style of the comic, Qifrey’s lips and jawline are reasonable distinct. They also share a room in a chapter about twin vessels - and whilst I’ve got a pet headcanon about their life-force being tied in a similar way to the liquid in twin vessels, that’s still more a fun idea than anything with much weight. Unless he’s talking about more than just his eye here - it would explain why he’s slowly decaying if he was a vessel for giving life to another though, wouldn’t it? Getting back his eye at this point is part of his plan to stop whatever plan the Brimhats have - if I’m right, that might be mass resurrection of Brimhats with knowledge from before the Pact. Maybe with the use of people like him - his eye and the person brought back with it are a proof of concept. 

But again, why Coco?

Coco specifically I’m not sure was ever special, she only became a “saviour” for the trapped Brimhats when she became a witch. “The seed has sprouted”, as Iguin says - another sacrifice? Is her Brimhat “version” less an alternate path and more another twin? But that seems to small scale, doesn’t it? In truth, the specificity of her involvement in this is still rather unclear - she certainly thinks differently to those raised as Pointed Hats, and her ties to Qifrey mean she’s also tied to what happened to him (and is continuing to happen to him). 

After all, it’s clear that Qifrey’s experiment wasn’t quite perfect. He was a trial - and whilst it was possibly successful, if it was perfect then why not just keep going? They cared little enough for his life, so why would anyone else’s be a concern. More to that - why let Coco study under him at all, if the aim is to make her use forbidden magic in the end? Why be so indirect - plant a seed, let it choose to study as a pointed hat, let it choose its own path? 

There’s a lot of questions that I could posit very loose answers for without much backing but I think her ties to Qifrey and his ties to the experiments aren’t a coincidence - perfecting them is a must, and maybe perfecting them would save her professor. Honestly, this calls into question Beldaruit’s motivations to me too - he was very keen to get Coco away from him for his proximity to Brimhats and her own... the Sages know more than we do, that’s for sure - and with his desire to interrogate the ex-Sage who just unleashed a monster, I have a feeling he’s more than aware that taking Qifrey in might well have halted some plans (even if it was retroactive). Hell, we only have his account of the incident in Silstas to go off... just look at that glyph right under the line about the sages, after all. 

And guess who else was there with Beldaruit? Those freckles look familiar, don’t they?

Gosh, I’m struggling to wrangle my thoughts here in a convenient way so sorry for the dump of thoughts but I guess my TLDR is like this:

The experiment done on Qifrey was new magic - designed to finally resurrect Brimhats from before the Pact trapped in Silvertrees. This brought back Iguin, and has resulted in Qifrey’s own body deteriorating - possibly through some link between them. The Brimhats aim is to revive the magic from before the Pact - specifically the knowledge of medical magic, the lack of which prevents the use of blood magic due to the scale of the magic it can cause being unpredictable. Iguin wishes to do this by reviving the witches of old - other factions seek to rediscover it in the present. 

I believe it just has to be resurrection of some kind - there’s far, far too many references to it and the Pact for it to be nothing. And the confirmation of human blood and the human body having it’s own magic? A game changer. I almost wonder if the Silvertrees didn’t come first - their blood isn’t as powerful because living human blood is the root of magic. 

#trying to marry up my twin vessel mini theory with tree-stuff and getting a headache whilst doing so? absolutely #witch hat atelier

[alcedeerie]

Hello! Do you aspire to have a mad profession, but don’t know where to start since garden-variety biochemistry isn’t for you? Do you not have the expertise, are you simply bored with the premise, maybe looking to try something different?

Reasons aside, you’re in luck! Here are some alternative lesser-known mad professions for you to consider!

Actor

a classic

everyone loves the theater kid urge to throw an extravagant party which is actually a setup for an equally extravagant murder game!

and it’s all filmed to rewatch later

something about being doomed by the narrative except you are the narrative

General Artistry

so many options!!

costumes with colors that don’t exist

illustrations that slowly alter minds

cursed unknowable sculptures

animation creepypastas, but like, the real and better version this time!

websites that have no bottom, they scroll forever, and the more you scroll, the more things you Learn.

photographs from impossible perspectives

tattooists can even tattoo magic-infused designs into their skin for extra power and insight!

Programming

programming is already a hassle, why not draw power from it? it can’t possibly drive you crazier than the missing semicolons do!

Architecture

Everyone loves their non-Euclidean architecture, but no one ever stops to think who DESIGNED it. That special someone could be you!

CEO

Most CEOs are mad CEOs, so the term “mad CEO” is usually redundant. If you become the CEO at any company that doesn’t have a double or single-digit number of employees, congratulations, you are considered mad by definition.

Spies and Detectives

They’re shady, mysterious, and have strange quirks. Surprisingly, mad spies are threatened and mad detectives are severely endangered as these professions are becoming more heroic in nature. The world needs more cutthroat spies and dishonest corrupt detectives.

Note: I do not recommend the similar Police Officer as a mad profession, simply because it’s boring and has no agency. Cops take orders and wear uniforms, the detective does things their own way and gets to have their own style all the time, all on their own.

Streamer/Youtuber/Social Media Influencer

Have you ever wanted to start a cult AND be caught up with the trends? Well now you can! It’s not like it’s that uncommon today anyways!

Writer (Fanfic)

Devote yourself to a god of someone else’s making and rip yourself apart! You can do it in cosplay! You can do it however you feel like it! Stories become legends become myths become gods, and at the center of it is you!

Mathematician

The numbers transcend mortal experience. When the universe dies, the numbers say how it will happen, and after it happens, the numbers remain; unmoving, unchanging, uncaring.

Linguist

Have you ever seen people locked in an unfurnished room for years with monolingual speakers of entirely different languages to study the unique pidgin language they create as they learn to communicate? Well, now you will!

Chiropractor

It’s not like these people are even doctors. You don’t need a general medical degree to practice it and the guy who invented it said he learned it from a ghost. Why not go into it with the intention of breaking as many bones as possible?

Taxidermist

nonsensical stuffed dead animal monsters.

yeah that’s it, but it’s worth it.

#mad science

[monawasredacted]

Sweetheart Headcanons

These are purely related to my interpretation of Sweetheart and the vision of them that I subscribe to! So happy and excited to hear other people’s interpretations and see their Sweethearts (I’ll probably do this for all of my redacted OC’s)

•As their powers manifestested, the pigmentation in Sweetheart’s body started to react to the chemical makeup of their powers, and their hair, eyes and skin all drained of colour. Their skin, already pale, took on a more neutral tone. Their eyes, previously a darker and deeper blue, faded to a light grey. Their hair, a dirty blonde/light brown, grew into more of a white/blonde. This isn’t common, but is known to happen to stealths, as the magic that makes them seemingly transparent also messes with their body.

•They, at first, hated this. Their friends thought it was cool, but they couldn’t think it further from the truth. The features they’d loved the most, gifted from their parents, had been stolen by their powers. While they did not curse the gift of magic, they felt robbed of the things they were proud of, like the Tenerife blue of their mother’s eyes, or the signature tussled brown that had been donned by their father’s lineage for generations.

•Their powers were strong, but they didn’t know what to do with them. In fact, in their stealth classes, they took a little longer than their classmates to get a true handle on things. This is apparent and resurges when they’re in the midst of a highly tense emotional episode, such as panic attacks. They find it hard to decloak even if they want to.

•Sweetheart prefers to wear pants wherever they go, in case they need to cloak for any reason and they need to go unheard. Their magic also affects their clothes, but not always their physical mass; they can be heard and felt while cloaked if they don't exert the extra effort to conceal them, so pants are quieter and easier to move around in.

•In this same vein, they don’t wear jewellery very often either - clattering and clanging can sometimes be hard to mask and keep stealthed. The only exception to this rule is a ring gifted by Milo’s mother, that they wear every day, stealthing or not.

•Milo’s mother has an intense respect for Sweetheart (returned tenfold), and they get along really well. She was the first person Sweetheart went to when concerned about learning healing magic, agonising over not knowing it well and neglecting it when studying. When Sweetheart messaged, and then called Marie, torn to bits about their inability to heal effectively, Marie knew that Sweetheart was a good person, heart and soul. And Marie can always tell deep down whether a person is good or not.

•Colm attempts to converse with Sweetheart often, usually about investigating, and it takes a while for Sweetheart to open up and speak more freely- they, at first, felt as if the tension in the relationship between Milo and Colm was to be tread very carefully. It wasn’t until Milo ensured ‘I won’t be mad at you for entertainin’ his nosy personality, as is the nature of an investigator.’ (When Sweetheart refused this idea, Milo then followed up with ‘No, you’re definitely not nosy, just have a penchant for sneakin’ into unknowing victim's apartments to accost them with interroga-.’ He couldn’t finish the sentence, with a pillow to his face.)

•Sweetheart does, in fact, dress like an old timey P.I: long coats, dark tones, well fit slacks and boots, the works.

And they make it look good?

•Milo usually helps them pick out their clothes, as he’s really actually quite exceptional at doing such. He did not, however, help with their Summit outfit. That was all Sweetheart’s doing (and Milo’s undoing).

#redacted audio #redacted mona #redactedverse #redacted milo #redacted sweetheart #I'll add more to Sweetheart's later methinks #just had to get these ones out

[mdhwrites]

The demon realm isn’t diverse despite the show saying all myths from the demon realm influenced Earth even back in the deadwardian era it very European inspired there are also POC witches but their skin color makes no difference and the demons in the show barely have any resemblance to demons from mythology or religion I feel like the Crew could not write different Cultures and sticked to the Fantasy European Model because it easier and because some people will take issue with the show depicting their monsters as demonic What do you think?

Punctuation. Is. Important. This post is... weird without it. BUT it does actually bring up an interesting point, in part because... Well, I'd be in a pretty similar boat unfortunately.

See, western/European fantasy may have a WIDE variety of options but it also has the easiest when it comes to having a good selection of easily available creatures, settings, etc. to take from. Everyone knows dragons, dwarves, elves, gnomes, etc. At least, here in the west. Unless you do deeper digging, a lot of people will have a pretty limited reach for what they can do monster wise and I think that is reflected in the show.

And I suffer from it myself. I've never done real deep dives into all the monsters out there so while I like them, my mind ends up freezing on only a handful of common ones to use in my writing or the like. It's something that I would like to get better about due to just the sorts of things I enjoy writing. But because a lot of fantasy sticks to these close knit groups of easily useful monsters and myths, you kind of get stuck in a loop.

The show did give itself an out though for worry about potentially insulting other cultures and that was that everything is BASED on something from the Isles. They didn't have to make one to one portrayals but could have taken inspiration. Theoretically, that is in fact what the show did since we don't actually get anything named after a regular monster. The closest are the fact that the witches and wizards actually use those terms and I guess giraffes. Otherwise, they're all purely made up. Which, you know, isn't a bad thing so long as they're interesting.

Unfortunately they're not for most of the like... five that show up in the series? Cool designs usually but little in the way of making them unique obstacles or having real personalities besides "Creature."

The other potential excuse is that the style of the Isles was specifically based on a Dutch/Netherlands artist named Hieronymus Bosch. While his art is weird, it still is steeped in his culture as his buildings and the like are still European in inspiration. Of course, then we get into the fact that they don't include any of the actually surrealist elements of his art which is part of why the Isles is so boring. Strip that part away and all you're left with is... Europe but it's a little weird.

However, the reuse of European history, even including people who look like Vikings, is much weirder to me. At that point, you're not basing this on artwork or fantasy... You're just copying history. Like you point out: Their architecture, style of dress, etc. like that actually mimics common, HUMAN clothing trends just as much four hundred years ago, before a human ever ruled them, as it does in the present day. That's a bizarre disconnect that adds to the feeling that this is just kind of a lazy fantasy setting.

And no, I don't expect every fantasy world to look like Hylics and be this unknowable, abstract landscape. I am fine if something just steals medieval fantasy for its style and creatures after all. The thing that makes most fantasy distinct are its cultures and the interplay of them, or how they diverge from our world despite being so close to it at the same time. Skyrim is not a bad or boring fantasy world because it is THE style you go for with generic fantasy. It's world is vibrant to many because it feels more alive and like there are conflicts that are motivated by things like magic, monsters, etc.

It doesn't even have to be something big. My favorite book series of all time is a medieval fantasy series with some magic for two books and then NEVER BRINGS IT BACK. The mythos around the Rangers of Ranger's Apprentice though, them genuinely engaging with the different countries they come across (even if many are just replacements for real world countries) and the exploration of those cultures, how they differ, their beliefs, their tactics, etc. helped make each place feel like a unique challenge and world in and of itself even though it was lifting so much from reality. It drips with what makes these countries interesting and fun to take from for a fantasy world.

TOH though? They wrote in explicitly an excuse to take literally EVERY fun part of every religion, story, myth, video game even, etc. that has EVER been told... And decided to snark at all of it instead and act like it was better than all of that. Which is potentially a reason to go with the generic, European-centric style BECAUSE it is the most generic. Because most people will know about it from Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings and Game of Thrones. As such, it is the one that is the easiest to ridicule because they are actively choosing the elements that are the easiest to mock. It's like when people say that Madoka Magica is a deconstruction of the magical girl genre because they have literally only seen Sailor Moon and Card Captor Sakura.

And yes, there is an argument to be had about Dana potentially not feeling comfortable including other cultures' mythologies due to cultural appropriation and... I'm not going to try to deliberate that. I am the second to last person to get to behind the British. I also won't say it would be exactly a bad reason to avoid it even. Just that it is a thing and... *shrug*

A lot of this in fact kind of doesn't have a conclusion besides a shrug. After all, I like D&D. I like the Forgotten Realms. They are not, by default, that unique a fantasy world, in part by design. But, you know, a good DM makes that generic world into a playground. TOH never feels like it's willing to expand to even add a slide.

======+++++======

Btw, if you want a monthly-ish D&D show to watch, I HIGHLY recommend Dan Jones and Dragons. It has a more casual feel to it than I feel like a lot of D&D stuff I've watched tends to have while not devolving into jokes and gags. Everyone is taking it seriously but they're willing to diverge for thirty seconds about a good joke that happens. All of the characters, their personalities, the drama they go through and the care they have for each other is also just SO GOOD. Cannot recommend enough.

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

#the owl house criticism #toh critical #the owl house #toh

[luimagines]

Kokiri Traveler

Another commission! 

Masterlist

They asked for a Kokiri traveler who’s found their way out of the forest and meets the group!

Content under the cut!

It was quiet.

They wrung their hands together nervously. Their small blade was held tightly within their grip. They weren’t sure how they got to this point. They had tried looking for Link for a while. He was supposed to come back a while ago but he never did. They didn’t think he would have been crazy enough to leave the forest. But now they’re out and Link is nowhere to be found.

They take a deep breath and keep going forward. The magic in the air isn’t as dense as the forest. It’s disorienting.

Something growls to their left and they pivot on their toes, blade at the ready. Eyebrows furrow and their stance balances itself out.

A wolf.

It pauses at the sight of the kokiri, instantly dropping the hostile aggression.

It sniffs closer.

Unknowing what to do, they take a step back. The wolf pauses and lowers both his tail and ears, dipping its head to show submission.

The kokiri doesn’t have enough experience with animals to make heads or tails of this but it no longer looks like it wants to fight. Merely curious.

The wolf comes closer and it smells…. Familiar. Like the forest. But not quite.  Something is off about it. Darker but not necessarily unwelcoming. It’s strange.

“You’re weird.” The kokiri blurts as their hand comes in contact with the fur. “You smell like you belong elsewhere.”

The creature tilts his head.

“Where do you come from?” The kokiri asks, doubting that they’ll receive an answer. They hum and pet the creature a little bit more before coming to a conclusion. They’ll just go with the direction this creature came from! Maybe they can find their way home that way.

They look up and start walking through the bushes and past the wolf as they go. The wolf seems intruiged, if a bit concerned, and follows them.

The journey is quiet once more but pleasantly so. They made a friend. At least, that’s what they want to think. Walking is much better with company than being alone even if the other isn’t going to be up for much conversation. 

The smell of the forest gets stronger as they walk. Unbeknownst to the kokiri, they start to walk faster as a result. They speed up the closer they get, nearly breaking into a full sprint. Their excitement is tangible and the wolf has to pick up speed as well if it wants to keep up with the small child-like being.

They crash into a much larger person, the smell of the forest is undeniable. The kokiri steps back and rubs their nose. They crashed into metal. That hurt.

They look up.

A tall, blond man with magic, seeping from the seams of his being, looks down at them. Their jaw drops and they gulp what little spit is left in their mouth when they recognize a face they never thought they would see again. They take another step back. The blood in their veins freezes and sluggishly continues to pump through their body even so. They can feel the effort their heart has to make to keep their blood moving. “..Link?”

Link blinks down at them and bends, taking a knee to meet their height. He smiles sadly. “You’re far from home.”

“I was looking for you.” Little hands come up to his cheek. Link sighs and lets them explore. They take in his sharpened jaw, his nose, his eyes, well eye, the scar, the beginnings of wrinkles, his aged hair and the angles of adulthood that made left their mark. “...I don’t think you can come home… Not like this.”

He snorts. “No. Not like this.”

Link reaches over and gently takes the hands off. “But it’s ok. I have a different home now. Thank you for worrying about me.”

They frown, an unfamiliar emotion welling up in their chest and up their neck. It slowly consumes their face and tears well in their eyes.

Link is gentle and wipes them tenderly.

A roar sounds from the west and all members of the unseen group take their stances and weapons out.

The kokiri is angry. This isn’t fair. This shouldn’t have happened. What happened to their friend?

An arrow wizzes past the boys but the kokiri catches it before it can hit its mark. They frown and pull out their small blade again.

“Woah!” Another voice yells. “That was awesome! Where’d you learn to do that?”

They don’t feel like answering the stranger’s question. The next monster that jumps in front of them quickly loses its eye. With an enraged scream, the kokiri jumps on top of it. They gain a few more scratches and a mirror cut when it tries to throw them off but they hold on tightly. They stab the monster again and again, taking as much of their anger out of it as possible.

It explodes into familiar purple smoke soon after and the kokiri falls with it. They breathe heavily.

Their clothes have also gained a few more tears but it’s fine. They don’t care. They stopped caring a while ago.

Link drops down in front of them. He’s too big. Too tall. His voice is too deep. This isn’t the Link they remember. Who did this to him?

Link takes them into his arms and they start crying. The smell of the forest is comforting even now but it’s wrong. 

“Don’t worry.” Link says softly. “We’ll get you home. You shouldn’t be out of the forest anyway.”

They shake their head. “No Link. Either you come back with me or I’m going with you. You need to come home.”

Link looks conflicted. While he looks over his shoulder toward the other boys, he really doesn’t know what to do from this point. He never would have thought this would have happened.

“They can come along.” Another says. “They can fight. Viciously. We all saw it.”

The kokiri wipes their eyes and sniffles. “Good. I wouldn’t leave anyway.”

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #legend of zelda

[twisted-tech]

The Phantom Blot & Crowley’s Identity

Who is the Phantom Blot?

⚠️(Book 6, 7, & Glorious Masquerade spoiler warning)⚠️

Phantom Blot Similarities to Crowley

Overblots and Phantoms are closely related things in Twisted Wonderland, and based on the names, both are probably derived from the same Disney villain: the Phantom Blot. Given blot and phantoms are a major plot point, I wouldn’t be surprised if this Disney villain becomes an in-game character, maybe even a final boss? I want to point out the similarities the Blot has with Crowley to suggest they may be the same person.

The Phantom Blot was created in 1939 in Mickey Mouse Outwits the Phantom Blot. This is right after the shorts that inspired Ramshackle Dorm: Thru the Mirror (1936) and Lonesome Ghosts (1937). Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937) was released near the same time. 

The timing may suggests that these things are related. I bring up Snow White because there’s lots of evidence to suggest that Crowley is based on the crow from Snow White (the school being themed on Snow White, his outfit being similar to Pomefiore’s uniform, the portraits in his office, etc.)

The Blot was first introduced in comics as a thief who only stole cameras of a “special type” and then destroyed them immediately. It was never said what was special about these cameras or why he destroyed them.

In the prologue, Crowley gives the Prefect the Ghost Camera, saying it’s “enchanted with a special kind of magic” to photograph both the body and soul of the subject. 

His appearance resembles ink, sometimes it even drips off of him. “In costume, the Phantom Blot wears dark clothes that make him resemble a living ink-blot, or a shadow, hence his name.” Since he is constantly disguised, his only defining features are his glowing eyes. 

Crowley is also always disguised, dresses darkly, and has glowing eyes.

The Blot’s abilities include- but are not limited to- disguise, identity theft, escapology, blackmail, bribing people with false promises, manipulation by using another’s greed/desire for revenge against them, high intelligence, and duping innocent people into acting as his unknowing agents.

Disguise/Identity Theft: Obviously Crowley is disguised with his mask, but he also proved he can change his form when he transformed into a ghost in the prologue. Though he claimed to use a transmutation potion to do it, we have nothing but his word to prove it. This is doubly suspicious since Azul has said that such potions are highly restricted and often illegal. Knowing this, it’s very strange that Crowley just happened to have a potion like that on him, and that he would waste it on a trivial battle with the Prefect and Grim. If he can pop a rare potion like it’s nothing, does that mean he has more? And why have them to begin with? What if he had it on him because he constantly uses them, and the Crowley we know isn’t his true form at all? Or, did he lie about the potion and he actually has an ability, item, or unique magic that changes his form?

The theory that he’s constantly transformed lends itself to many different “Crowley’s Identity” theories, and goes beyond what he looks like without the mask. I use it now to suggest he might be the Phantom Blot that’s taken a more humanoid form, but I also see compelling evidence in the “Malleus is Crowley” theory that this could work for too- but that’s for another post.

This also opens the possibility that he has been turning into other people/creatures and stealing their identities throughout the story. If so, it raises every interaction into suspicion. He could have easily spied on people or spread false information, who knows.

Escapology: I think this works into Crowley’s skill at avoiding his responsibilities and his dislike for the law. There’s less obvious evidence for this, but hear me out: in book 1, he escaped fighting Riddle in order to evacuate students; in book 5, you could argue he “escaped” dealing with Jamil’s overblot by leaving the school and not answering his phone; in book 6, he narrowly avoided losing his job when he was called to parliament. He has a knack for getting out of situations.

Blackmail/Manipulation: There’s too many examples to list them all, but to name a few: bribing Grim with tuna (and not paying up), bribing the Prefect with dorm repairs (only to not chip in at all and let the other students and the Shroud family pay for it), threatening to throw Grim off campus if he didn’t serve as a janitor, and deliberately withholding funding for food, dorm repairs, and a portal home from the Prefect to better exploit them and force them into doing tasks for him. He also only does this because he is aware of how completely reliant the Prefect is on him, having noted on their first meeting that the Prefect is “without a cent to their name” and doesn’t have any “ability to contact their guardian”. He straight up laughs after coming up with this plan so I think everyone already knows this.

Bribery: On top of “bribing” students to do things, he also accepts bribes. In Jamil’s overblot flashback, Crowley confessed to accepting a bribe from the Al-Asim family to accept Kalim into the school and make him a dormwarden. Interestingly, during this scene, Crowley’s tone of voice completely changed from it’s usual over-exaggerated one to a very serious tone. He also accepted a bribe from the Shroud family to allow Ortho to attend school as a student.

High Intelligence: The Blot is described as a master strategist. The trouble with this is that the game is not over, so I can’t really prove yet that Crowley does have some master plot in the works. He does seem to be hiding something though, which makes me think he probably has some plan going on.

Duping the Innocent: Once again, there isn’t really proof of this since the game is unfinished, but Crowley seems to know more than he’s letting on and has a tendency to manipulate other’s into doing things for him. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’s been using the Prefect or other students to carry out a more nefarious plan with them none the wiser.

Personality wise, “The Blot is very vain and his desire for money and power is only surpassed by his desire to immortalize his name in ‘the annals of crime.’" “He is very cunning and can come up with hundreds of different plans, from stealing all of the money in the world, to murdering Mickey Mouse.” 

Now I wouldn’t say Crowley has shown any murderous tendencies, but he fits the other traits to a T. One of his main personality traits is his desire for prestige and money, seen in how often he talks himself up and how he makes a point to tell people he’s the Headmage of a very famous school. He also hates being outdone by RSA.

The Blot isn’t just any villain-- he is the arch nemesis of Mickey Mouse (I didn’t even know he had one before now). He stands out from other comic villains by posing a true threat to Mickey’s life. “The best part (about Mickey Mouse Outwits the Phantom Blot) by far is the Phantom Blot himself. Menacing and truly dangerous in a way most comedy adventure villains aren’t allowed to be. He’s a real threat while still being humorous and entertaining”.

Crowley definitely has the potential to be hiding a more sinister side. He’s goofy, over the top, and generally sleazy with no proof of being truly evil. However, he sometimes let’s slip the mask, such as when telling Jamil that he had to accept Kalim as a housewarden and his voice lost all it’s previous joviality, or when he seemed to know something was coming just before the CHARON attacked the college.

The Blot’s relevance to Mickey also caught my eye considering the presence of Mickey in the game. Mickey has a history of fighting inky, magic monsters in not only tv shows but games as well. I don’t fully know what the connection between Mickey and Crowley could be, but there’s more to Ramshackle’s history and magic mirror that I bet Crowley isn’t saying.

Magic is an integral part of the Blot’s character: he despises anything related to magic and often tries to steal it from others and destroy it. In some variations, he himself is a “powerful evil sorcerer” and gives his ink to other villains to make them stronger. More recent depictions of The Blot solidify him as a powerful, evil sorcerer who battles Mickey, uses ink to give others extreme power, kidnaps people, attempts to take over the world, and tries to eliminate all magic.

Despising magic is more of Rollo’s thing, so I think they’ll go more the powerful, evil sorcerer route. Crowley has shown a consistant interest in blot, from his explanations of it to the Prefect and later revealing that he searched for the blot crystals after overblots only to never find any because Grim ate them.

Idia mentioned wanting to find a way to “recycle” blot and use it as an energy source, and that STYX was working to research that. It’s possible Crowley is working with STYX considering he implied he knew CHARON was arriving before they did, he let them take him without a struggle, and he was in a private meeting with the two leaders of STYX. 

If this is true, then it looks even more likely that he somehow plotted the overblots of the students to better study them. It may be he had good intentions, such as to help research a way to make blot safe. And I’d he did find a way, maybe he’ll start sharing blot with some other people.

Sage’s Island is also the ideal place to do such experiments since it’s remote, and if anything went wrong it wouldn’t hurt the mainland. The game makes it a point to show how hard it is to get on and off the island without the mirror during winter break and certain events.

With the kidnapping people point, this could be applied to how STYX kindnapped students, and you could argue that if Crowley is working with them, he kidnapped them by extension. But even before that, I argue that the Prefect is technically kidnapped as well. Crowley shows no desire to return them home. In fact, he does the opposite and encourages them to get used to the new world and forget about their homeland.

One old theory is that Crowley is constantly in a state of overblot himself, attributing to his mask and the gloves he never removes in order to hide the markings. It is also strange that the Dark Mirror has overblot markings, and that in the trailer, Crowley’s mage stone turns black at the end and his cloak falls into a pool of ink, suggesting he might have overblotted.

The Blot once told his daughter a reverse fairy tale story that portrayed himself as the hero and Mickey as the villain before telling her to dream of “happy endings.”

In general, this fits the theme of the game. The villains are heroes, and history seems to have been altered to portray the villains virtues over their immoral behaviors. The title of the game is Twisted Wonderland after all, so we know there’s something going on here.

Interestingly, though history was changed, it does not portray the heroes as villains. It more of an “everyone wins” situation where all get their happy endings.

Not to get back on the Malleus-is-Crowley theory, but this is also remarkably similar to what Malleus said before putting the students to sleep.

To close off on, the Phantom Blot seems like a really cool villain and I recommend checking out the wiki if you want something to do. Even if I’m completely wrong with the Crowley part, I do feel pretty confident saying that he was the inspiration for phantoms and overblots. Thanks for reading!

Sources

https://disney.fandom.com/wiki/Phantom_Blot#Background

https://twisted-wonderland.fandom.com/wiki/Twisted_Wonderland_Wiki

https://twistedwonderland.miraheze.org/wiki/Twisted_Wonderland_Wiki

https://rachelbethhines.tumblr.com/post/174145090021/the-best-of-disney-comics-part-10

#twisted wonderland #twst theory #twisted wonderland theory #dire crowley #twst crowley #the phantom blot #twst phantom blot #twst crowley theory #dire crowley theory

[dahliafterdark]

There isn’t a doubt in your mind that Heaven exists. 

Of course, things used to be different. You were like a lot of other people, unknowing, clueless, left in the dark. 

Until you met me. 

I took your feet off the ground and showed you the stars in my eyes. I filled your head with what you know now to be the truth. I built the new you from the ground up. I lifted you to a new state of being. 

I made you perfect. Your waking world is Heaven. You are an Angel among the living. 

Your eyes light up when my words weave magic before you. Your heart pumps faster when our gazes lock just inches from each other. Your skin feels like it’s catching fire when I lay my hands on you. 

Your mind is emptied of everything that isn’t being an extension of my will. Of my soul. The change is apparent. Glaring. Beautiful. It’s better for the both of us this way. 

For you to kneel when I snap my fingers. 

For you to look up at me and see God. 

#mind control #hypnosis #brainwashing #a girl deserves a little bit of godhood

[wesleyhill]

Waiting without Hope

A homily preached at Trinity Cathedral, Pittsburgh, on Holy Saturday 2024

In the Name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, Amen.

In the famous story of Jesus walking, unrecognized, with two of his followers after his resurrection, there is a remarkably poignant, human moment. Jesus asks them what they are discussing as they walk away from Jerusalem, and after they recount the chaos and tragedy of the last few days, they say about Jesus (not knowing that they are talking to the Risen One himself), “We had hoped that he was the one who was going to redeem Israel.” That perfect tense — “we had hoped” — contains and conceals a world of grief.

We are all familiar with the crush and pain of dashed hopes. You can’t live much beyond childhood to feel it (and many taste it already in childhood). The friendship you thought would last forever ends in betrayal. The career you had set your sights on becomes impossible because of an incurable injury. The divorce papers are finally signed. The chemo and radiation treatments are discontinued, and all that is left to do is wait for death’s coming. The key is returned. The lid on the casket is lowered for the last time. We had hoped.

If you’re religious (as I assume you are — you’re here for a Holy Saturday service!), then you know this same pain in your life with God. The bewilderment and hurt of unanswered prayer. The ache of the lack of God’s experienced presence. The recurring sense that this is all just pious fantasizing. The secret fear that God has finally abandoned you. We had hoped.

One of the great teachers of spirituality from the last century once wrote that every Christian who prays (and not just the great mystics or hermits) sooner or later experiences “the dark night of the soul,” the time — sometimes a long time — when God’s presence can’t be discerned or enjoyed anymore:

The beginner is usually granted ‘sensible’ [sensory], tangible consolations by way of encouragement; his senses and intellectual powers rejoice in the discovery of divine meaning and divine presence in the words and events of Scripture. As he advances, these consolations are necessarily withdrawn from time to time and for indefinite periods, for God does not wish to be found on any other path than his Son’s dying and rising.

God, in other words, allows us to remain in darkness, grief, and unknowing for a purpose: so that we might not rely on shallow, false pictures of who God is and might instead discover God right in the midst of dying and death, on the cross and in the tomb.

The writer Joan Didion says that after her husband died suddenly in their living room one night while she was in the kitchen preparing dinner, “There was a level on which I believed that what had happened remained reversible.” She calls this time of confusion her “year of magical thinking.” Her memoir with that title is the story of the slow recognition that the magic was false and that the reality was in fact irreversible: her husband really wasn’t coming back, and she now had to find a way to go on living without him.

That stripping away of illusions is what Holy Saturday is about. We thought we could ensure that Jesus and his Father were always available for our manipulation. We may have imagined that we could somehow use God to advance the agendas we prefer. We might have believed that we could forecast how God would always act and rely on him to meet our needs in the way we determine is best. But now we are faced with the cold, graying corpse in the tomb and the reality that we had it all wrong. We had hoped.

But Holy Saturday is also about waiting for a new hope on the far side of death — a hope that isn’t just a continuation of what we thought we wanted but a transformation of how we relate to God in faith and prayer. Christians usually picture Jesus descending into the nethermost caverns of hell on this day, and we might imagine him, as he dives downward, shedding all of the controls and expectations we try to clothe him in.

Holding that image in our minds, we might also imagine ourselves the way one of the church fathers pictured us in prayer: as ascending higher and higher on the crags of Mount Sinai with Moses and finding that the closer we get to God’s fiery presence, the darker and darker our vision becomes. God appears to us as cloudy, luminous darkness because only when we let go of what we think is light are we able to better approach the light that God is with humility and (true) hope.

As Jesus descends into darkness, we ascend into darkness, the one enabling the other — and our life with God as we know it dies so that it can rise again true and pure.

And so, in the words of one of our greatest Christian poets,

I said to my soul, be still, and wait without hope For hope would be hope for the wrong thing; wait without love, For love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith But the faith and the love and the hope are all in the waiting. Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought: So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing.

Amen.

[mizumech]

My thoughts on Skizz and Team TIES

Much like Jimmy, I do not watch him often at all.

Yet, his story within the games compels me. The tale of a brave and kind man, an angel; who is yet to discover falling from heaven hurts.

Or maybe he has. Maybe he just falls anyways.

Because he is kind. He doesn’t play the game like he should. He understands, fundamentally when he is done for and when to give in. And yet, he doesn’t really care. And not in a brash, Joel way.

In Third Life, his ‘last words’ are his ‘last wishes’, for the enemy and allies to get back in fight, and also ‘I love you and hate them’. Not too different from Limited Life. This time he is surrounded by his allies, still fighting the good fight to the last. But he has utilised his knowledge. He is at a point where he is doomed and he knows it. (And maybe that is just as similar to Third Life. Does he not say ‘Oh? You’re out for blood? Well come and get it!’?) He is at this impasse, when the server is contemplating what the loss of their canary means and shifting its alliances around one last time.

And he chooses to stand by his team. This is a team he knows well. Etho of Dogwarts and Team BEST. Tango from memories long blurred by the Watchers and Team BEST. Impulse from so many memories, so many pasts, from a world not too different from theirs, high up in the sky. He knows he would die for them. As he does.

He tells Impulse and Tango, and they’re agitated yes, but resigned. They’ve known Skizz longer than Etho. They know Skizz will not change his mind. They’re stunned but not shocked. They knew the minute he said it had been an honour. ‘What are you doing?’ is just an honorific because they have known each other for so long. And then they try to rationalise. How much time does Skizz have? Can we somehow get him a kill? Would Skizz be willing to get one?

That’s the magic of Limited Life. It’s desperation. Allies can become merely bloodbag in the haze of it. They’re closest to you. They would be so easy to kill. And yet: Team TIES chooses ally over time. They trust each other. They are ties that bind.

And then Impulse immediately says this thirty minutes must go Etho.

They’ve immediately rationalised the situation. Skizz has 23 minutes. Killing him will give Etho 30 minutes and he has the least time of all of us. This is a net gain.

In this game, you are never really climbing. You are only ever falling. Dying loses you more time than killing gains you.

So Etho finally gets to Windsor, dejected from a stolen kill and totally not ready for whatever emotional thing this will be. Only for Skizz to give him his axe, a pufferfish, and an order.

It’s almost strange. The history of Dogwarts stretches way before Skizz and Etho ever joined. They never watched Red Winter rise like scared children. They as knights of Dogwarts were only borne into Red Winter.

Yellow holds a strange connotation on this server. Of peace, of violence. Yellow is vulnerable, yellow is strong. It is heads, it is tails, and it is the light that catches on the rim of the coin. Golden apples tell of the alliances and golden apples tell of the violence that follows.

Pufferfish can mean peace. Grian and Scar shared one in Third Life. So did Jimmy and Scott. And Scott is still trying. Pufferfish can mean violence and toxicity. Martyn died to one. Scott is trying to force it on Jimmy. He’s still trying.

But this isn’t about them.

Skizz permadies often with golden apples on him and uses them as a symbol of loyalty to his faction and as gifts. In the one season he missed, golden apples were banned.

By this time in Limited Life, resources are scarce. He’s used his golden apples up already fighting Bdubs and gifting to him. But he has a pufferfish.

He wants Etho to decide.

This is a turning point in Etho’s life. Just as it was in Dogwarts. Skizz knows Etho will remember what he’s trying to insinuate.

It’s this, right before Skizz heads to his death, unknowing of Etho’s fate whatsoever.

Will Etho use it? Skizz will have no idea. Will he use it to stay alive, to get back to his allies? Will he use it in a trap? Will he use it to kill an enemy, and Void forbid, a friend?

And perhaps, it does not matter. Skizz has borne his struggles as best he could. As kind as he could’ve possibly managed.

Etho raises the axe over him. This axe is nearing the end of its life the same way its owner is.

And then come the affirmations, the sweet nothings and everythings at the same time. Maybe they’ll be able to make it up to each other in the next game. Maybe they’ll all forget any of these ever happened.

As the axe comes down, Etho wishes Skizz was better at the game. And there is a whisper. A trembling one, that he hopes will at least reach Etho’s ears.

“Me too.”

Maybe they don’t mean the same thing. Skizz has never regretted kindness.

Maybe Etho really did mean it as an insult. Maybe he’s calling Skizz naive. Maybe he’s calling him unskilled. But better at the game doesn’t mean better player.

I don’t think Etho would ever want Skizz to change as a player. They’ve been allied every season. He’s kind, he’s honest, and he’s brave, and maybe too much.

Maybe that’s what he’s talking about. The games are not always kind to the kind people. It is not kind to those who play by the rules.

And Skizz falls. And it hurts. And he doesn’t care. Because all he wants is to see team TIES through to the final countdown.

Yes, he wishes he knew the right way to hold an axe and the right time to block. He wishes he could’ve continued fighting by his team.

But he doesn’t regret kindness. He will never regret kindness.

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