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gunterfan1992 · 7 months

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Episode Review: “The Star”/“Jerry”

(Fionna & Cake, Eps. 7–8)

Airdate: September 22, 2023

Story by: Anthony Burch, Adam Muto, Hanna K. Nyström, Jack Pendarvis, Kate Tsang

Storyboarded by: Iggy Craig, Graham Falk, Jacob Winkler, & Sonja von Marensdorff

Directed by: Ryann Shannon (supervising), Hans Tseng (art)

It is hard to believe that we are already privy to the penultimate episodes of the Fionna & Cake miniseries. So far, this series has been hit after hit. So do "The Star" and "Jerry" live up to what has come before them? Read on for more...

The plot to "The Star" is deceptively simple: Fionna, Cake, and Simon are transported into a universe where Simon was killed by vampires, which led to Marceline being abducted the ice crown-wielding Vampire King (once again played by the wonderfully sonorous Billy Brown) and turned into his protege, known as "The Star." While the world has been almost entirely overrun by vampires, a Mad Max-esque version of Princess Bubblegum is still putting up a hell of a fight (Mad Max Bubblegum is aided in this task by Peppermint Butler-as-a-Tank, a human[?] version of Huntress Wizard, and a non-psychopathic version of Martin). Cake's shapeshifting impresses Mad Max Bubblegum, and so she decides to enlist Fionna, Cake, and Simon's help in defeating the Vampire King and his evil 'daughter.' Alas, as goes the best-laid plans of mice and men... The episode ends on a purposeful anti-climax: Fionna, recognizing that all is effectively lost, forcibly teleports herself, Cake, and Simon away from Vampire World while Mad Max Bubblegum and The Star struggle in the sky, with neither wanting to land a killing blow. The fate of Vampire World is thus left unresolved.

As a major fan of Stakes, I was delighted to be transported back into the world of vampires in "The Star." And this time, the show does a very solid job showing just how powerful and scary these monsters actually are (despite their Kermit the Frog-meets-Nosferatu appearance). And let us not forget Evil Marceline (oh, where to start)! I quite like that Ooo's Marceline is a heroic anti-anti-Christ, but even I found the titular antagonist of "The Star" to be a terrifying delight. It has been a good long while since Marceline has rightly pranked someone, and while I don't know if killing people or sucking souls count as pranks, it was nonetheless wonderful to see her ornery side return—only this time, turned up to 11. You can tell that Olivia Olson had a lot of fun recording her lines for this episode; her performance is energetic, her tone mocking. When I heard The Star taunt Mad Max Bubblegum and Co., it took me back to when I first heard Olson's voice acting in "Evicted!"

It was a clever move having The Star and Mad Max Bubblegum be sworn enemies, as it allowed the series to explore their dynamic as a couple without focusing on their past or present relationship. In the Vampire World, we learn that the two have never been in a relationship together. But despite this, still found themselves pulled toward one another in an almost preternatural way. Who knows… Just as the souls of Finn and Jake seem to be destined to always find one another, perhaps Marceline and Bubblegum are "soul mates" in a similarly metaphysical sense? Regardless, the hesitancy to kill one another that both characters show at the end of the episode speaks volumes as to how they feel about one another, even in a universe where they are sworn enemies. (Man, I really hope we get a Bubbline spin-off one of these days…)

Ah, I feel like I could talk about the Star for days, but there is more to consider, so let me move on to…

Airdate: September 22, 2023

Story by: Anthony Burch, Adam Muto, Hanna K. Nyström, Jack Pendarvis, Kate Tsang

Storyboarded by: Hanna K. Nyström, Anna Syvertsson, Jim Campbell, & Jackie Files

Directed by: Steve Wolfhard (supervising), Hans Tseng (art)

"Jerry" begins with Fionna, Cake, and Simon finding themselves in a dead and desolate world—humorously dubbed "Crapworld" by Cake—that we later learn was created by the Lich's wish in the season five premiere "Finn the Human." (As a mythological aside, when the Lich made his initial wish, it seems that Prismo did not simply wipe out all life in the Oooniverse; instead, he effectively created a copy of the Oooniverse within the Oooniverse. After killing off all life in this bubble dimension, Prismo then transported the Lich to his new wish-altered reality. Really, it is turtles all the way down…) While searching for the Crapworld ice crown, Simon tries to cheer up an increasingly despondent Fionna by telling him the story of how he and Betty met.

Eventually, our heroes run into Crapworld BMO, who upon learning that Prismo's remote is out of juice, attempts to recharge it with his robot heart. This does not go as planned (it actually results in Crapworld BMO spectacularly exploding, which is somehow both horrifying and funny), and Simon, Fionna, and Cake decide to track down Crapworld BMO's oft-mentioned friend "Jerry" and tell him that BMO has passed. Upon finding Jerry, however, the trio discover that he is actually the Lich… albeit a depressed Lich; it seems that after fulfilling his mission of ending all life, the Lich lost a sense of purpose. (I've been there, dude...) Simon sees this as an opportunity, and using the Crapworld ice crown and the Lich himself as a conduits, he manages to summon GOLB just as Scarab materializes to deliver divine punishment.

To be continued!

"Jerry" is a decidedly bleak episode that more than anything radiates the creative sensibilities of its supervising director, Steve Wolfhard. For those out of loop, Wolfhard was a storyboard artist on the original Adventure Time series, and he helped write some of the show's strongest outings (e.g., "Puhoy," "Lemonhope," "Escape from the Citadel," "Graybles 1000+"). Wolfhard has a unique approach to writing, often using humor/cuteness to paste over more existential horrors, and while he did not storyboard "Jerry," the episode nevertheless feels like the apogee of his "voice," brimming as it does with a darkness that is only lightly covered with a veneer of humor. Indeed, many of the episode's funniest moments (e.g., the scene in which BMO cheerfully, stupidly kills itself, the reveal that the Lich has depression) cannot be described as anything other than gallows humor. Wolfhard often joked in interviews that many of the episodes he pitched involved main characters dying. With "Jerry," he finally got his chance.

Ultimately, what prevents "Jerry" from becoming a bummer-fest is the way the episode is interspersed with flashbacks that tell the story of how Simon and Betty fell in love. Despite their being the emotional heart of the episode, I do not have much to say about these scenes other than they are sweet. They largely expand upon details that we already knew, but in doing so, they enliven those details, infusing them with a sense of affect that exposition or background detailing could never convey. There's a couple easter eggs thrown in for die-hard fans (e.g., several relics from the main series are name-dropped, we see when a photograph of Simon from "I Remember You" was taken), and its all tied-up nicely with a new HALF SHY song, "Everything in You." All in all, these scenes are the sweet, sweet eye bleach we need, given the tone of the episode's other half.

My biggest gripe with these episodes is that they both lean too far into Fionna's failures while somehow not leaning in far enough. The former issue is most noticeable in "The Star," the beginning of which sees Fionna follow up her candy genocide by making a series of increasingly bone-headed decisions, one of which leads to the direct death of a character (although, Mad Max Bubblegum was also quite bone-headed for letting Random New Girl put everyone in danger immediately after introducing them to her few crew members). Put simply, I feel the episode excessively plays up Fionna as a gullible girlfail, which seems a bit much. Paradoxically, in "Jerry," the show did not have Fionna properly, fully, believably consider the ramifications of the mistakes she had made; instead, the episode focuses much of its emotional energy on the story of Simon and Betty's relationship. Yes, Fionna does have a realistic breakdown in the middle of the episode, but almost immediately, the show decides to have Simon distract her with more of his own love story. None of this sinks the episodes, but it does make them less than perfect.

For some, the episodes' bleakness might also be a defect: indeed in both "The Star" and "Jerry," lots of characters die, and the fridge horror is off the charts. But while I have criticized the show for such cruelty in the past (e.g., my review of "Wizard City"), the bleakness in these episodes is not meaningless. Instead, it arguably serves to underscore that without Simon Petrikov existing and doing all that he has in the Ooo Prime universe, the world (any world) quickly goes to hell. (This is perhaps most noticeable in "The Star," given that the big twist of that universe is that Simon was killed by vampires, presumably before he placed the ice crown on his head, thus resulting in Marceline's capture and indoctrination by the Vampire King.) Even in his crazed "Ice King" state, Simon is something like a cosmic lynchpin holding together reality! Considering how much Simon/the Ice King is a woobie in the original series, it is nice to see Fionna & Cake accentuate just how important he actually is.

Final “The Star” Grade: A-

Final “Jerry” Grade: A-

#adventure time #atimers #marceline #review #marceline the vampire queen #princess bubblegum #bubblegum #bubbline #fionna and cake #fionna campbell #cake the cat #simon petrikov #ice king #lich

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btr-rewatch · 2 months

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Big Time Rush Season 1, Episode 11: “Big Time Jobs”

I remember this one being one of my favorite episodes. Excited to rewatch it!

Highlights: The boys set out to make some dough. Also: Mirror Realm Alter Egos, the worst sign-spinners on the planet, and sentient coffee makers.

We begin with the guys preparing for the "Palm Woods 500 Invitational All-Terrain Decathlon Classic." The first one to run around the building and ring the bell at the front desk wins a large homemade trophy made of boxes covered with shiny wrapping paper with a colander on top. Very fancy.

Also, Kendall doesn't pronounce "decathlon" correctly. He says "discathlon," which, as far as I've been able to tell from briefly looking it up, isn't a real word. I mean, it's something you could chalk up to in-universe as a term the boys made up on their own, but this is probably just Kendall Schmidt flubbing the line.

The race goes about as well as you'd expect.

Carlos is declared the winner!

An enraged Bitters then tells the boys that they have to pay for all the damage they've caused, which amounts to $2,000 (and 30¢). Gustavo is NOT happy that his dogs have gotten themselves into so much trouble. He's sick of them breaking things, which leads us into a montage of some of the things around the studio they've broken in the last several months. Shout out to my favorite part of the montage:

Because like...why. Why is James singing a taunting song about having a smoothie? Why does this make Kendall so upset that he feels the need to smack it straight outta James's hand? There's missing context here. James and Kendall were definitely just not getting along that day, and this was the final straw.

Anyway, Gustavo tells them that they have to pay him his $2,000 back, and until they do, they're not allowed in the Palm Woods pool. In order to come up with $500 each, they're going to need to get jobs. This is horrifying news to our boys.

Carlos gets stuck being Gustavo's production assistant, and James Kendall, and Logan return to the Palm Woods to do some job searching. After reading through a listing of horrible jobs, Kendall and Logan set out to become sign spinners, and James finds an ad for "the new face of Cuda." Obviously, he thinks this is the perfect job for him.

This leads into that bizarre but delightful scene where he talks to himself in the mirror, but it's like...some sort of alter-ego with a slightly deeper voice??

Mirror James: "Look at yourself! Who's handsomer than you?"

James: "No one!"

Mirror James: "Who's got more style than you?"

James: "No one!"

Mirror James: "Who's smarter than you?"

James: "Well, lots of people. But that has nothing to do with being a model."

I mean...he's right. What a himbo. Katie appoints herself as James's manager, and the two of them set out to take the fashion world by storm.

Meanwhile, at Kendall and Logan's sign-spinning job:

Yeah, they get fired pretty quickly. Also, can I point out that one of my first thoughts upon watching the above moment was how close they came to possibly being hit by cars?? If either one of them had fallen to the street instead, they would have died. And it would have been in the stupidest way possible. Cause of death? SIGN SPINNING.

And we're not even too far into this episode yet, but I'm enjoying this Kendall and Logan storyline. I don't think there have been many moments thus far in the series where it's just been the two of them paired up ("Big Time Crib" is the only one that comes to mind), and I like seeing them teamed up for some shenanigans. I've always had a soft spot for the Kendall and Logan dynamic, especially when it comes to Kendall's ability to help Logan let loose. I feel like...Logan feels the most secure with Kendall? Which makes sense because Kendall is the leader, but still. It's nice to see Logan come out of his shell a bit, and seeing him act all goofy and over the top with Kendall as they (horribly) spin those signs is one of those moments.

Onto Carlos's story! He's been told to get a coffee for Gustavo, and can I just say how much I love the "Carlos does battle with a coffee maker" plot? This boy is given such a simple task: get coffee, and this machine proceeds to make his life miserable for the rest of the episode.

I'm not sure how many people currently in the fandom were also on Tumblr back when the series was on, but there was this popular BTR blog that consisted of posting beautiful, aesthetic pictures with ridiculous quotes from the show on them. That was the whole blog, and the fandom loved it. There are two specific ones I remember, and I've recreated them here so those who didn't get the original experience can see what I'm talking about.

The BTR fandom sure was something. Wish I could remember what the blog was called (though I'm not sure it'd even still be up).

While Carlos fights for his life at Rocque Records, Kendall and Logan return to 2J to try to find new jobs. After reading off a series of ridiculous options, Kendall has his own idea

Before Kendall can drag Logan off to the nearest hospital to have their kidney's extracted, there's a knock at the door. A woman has come to ask if Mrs. Knight is home and can watch her son, and Kendall agrees to do it (she'll pay them $20 an hour). This gives the guys the idea to offer a babysitting service in order to earn the money they need. They quickly have lots of eager parents lined up to take advantage of their convenient service.

Over at James's modeling job, he quickly realizes that he ain't the only pretty face in town.

They have a brief "face-off," but James is no match for all the handsome in the room, and he just like. Passes out.

Over at Kendall and Logan Babysitting Services Incorporated, things quickly fall apart. Unable to handle the energy of eight kids, Kendall and Logan end up tied to chairs. Mama Knight comes to rescue them, but she quickly flees the premises after.

We return to Carlos for a moment to check on how he's doing, which is Not Well. The room is being filled with foam, and unplugging the coffee maker does nothing since it has a "reserve power" mode. Carlos also causes it to activate its "self-defense" mode when he smacks it several times.

Down at the Palm Woods lobby, a depressed James is sipping a smoothie. He sadly tells Katie, "In Minnesota, I was 'The Face.' Now, I'm just 'A Face.' I'm just a handsome grain of sand on an extremely beautiful beach."

Yeah, so he's doing great.

Meanwhile, Kendall and Logan are having a day

They decide to put the kids' energy to good use and have them run a car-washing service while they sit back and collect the money.

Back at Rocque Records, (wow, this episode is busy) Kelly discovers the catastrophe unfolding in the break room and freaks out. When Carlos says they have to destroy the machine, she protests. That is, until things get personal.

"Kelly is dumb. Women are weak," the coffee machine says (it also calls her "cupcake"), to which she and Carlos promptly charge into the room to attack it with a bat and microphone stand. Together, they defeat C.A.L.

Katie gets James another modeling gig for Cuda—an elbow model for chapped elbow cream. James is not happy. He angrily model-walks away.

However, he's stopped in his tracks by none other than Mirror James, who tells him to embrace the job and his beautiful elbow so they can get back to the pool. James agrees and returns to the photoshoot.

I cannot get over the Mirror James stuff. Does this happen in any other episodes?? I can't remember. What is WRONG with him?

We then go to wrap up the babysitting plot. All the parents come to pick up their kids while Kendall and Logan happily take the payment owed them after a day of such suffering.

And with that, the guys have earned all the money needed to pay Gustavo back! It took them less than a day, lol. But they only have a few seconds to celebrate before an angry mob descends upon them demanding pay for all the additional chaos caused in their money-making attempts. Among the charges are a fine from the city for running an illegal daycare, destroying that coffee maker (an $8,000 prototype), and the cost of James's wardrobe from his modeling gig. So, when all is said and done, they've paid Gustavo back the $2,000.30, but now they owe him $14,089.

Gustavo flips his lid, starts destroying things around the studio, and gets caught by Griffin, who tells Gustavo he has to pay him back all that money. We end the episode with Kelly, Gustavo, and the guys all running a car wash at the Palm Woods.

There's so much to love about this episode. Disaster follows these boys wherever they go. They cannot have a normal day if they tried.

#big time rush #btr #kendall knight #carlos garcia #james diamond #logan mitchell #btr rewatch #btr season 1

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marine-indie-gal · 3 months

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Rati

The Hindu Goddess of Love, Lust, Sexual Pleasure, Carnal Desire, Lust, and Passion. Both the Female Counterpart and Wife of Kamadeva "Kama". The Mother of Harsha and Yashas.

She is usually depicted as a Maiden with the Power of Enchanted Love and is usually seen with her Husband in Paintings. She is also known as "Mayavati" when her Husband is Reborn as "Pradyumma". The Name "Rati" comes from a root word, "Ram" or "Sanskrit" meaning either "Joy" or "Delight" (but it's more usually referred to sexual love as she represents the lustful pleasure of Women that does not refer to Motherhood). She also rides a Horse that is very Beautiful as she is and like her Husband, she is associated with Parrots.

After the creation of the 10 Prajapatis, Creation Deity (Brahma) creates Kamadeva from his mind as Kama was given the task to spread love in the world by his own Flower Arrows. When Kama shoot one of his arrows against Brahma and the Prajapatis to fall in love with Brahma's Daughter (Sandhya) which made Shiva laugh so hard but it also embarrassed Brahma and the Prajapatis with tremble and sweat that causes one of the Prajapatis (Daksha) to drip a drop of his sweat (thus, Rati) was born, giving Kama his own Bride/Wife. However, seeing on how Brahma was instantly humiliated by one of Kama's tricks, he cursed him into being turned into Ashes by Shiva until that He and his Wife would soon be Reincarnated.

In a second version of her birth, The Brahma Vaivarta Purana tells that Sandhya took her own life and became Rati when Vishnu resurrects her into Rati and became Kama's wife, after when Bruma lusted Sandhya. Though some versions do keep the Sweat birth thing. However, Another version states that Shiva is Rati's Father.

In the Myth of Rati and Kamadeva's reincarnation, when Shiva's prophecy was said that he was going to have a child in order to stop the Demon (Tarakasura) from destroying the universe, Kama was given the task to make Shiva fall in love with someone to have an Heir. As The Two Love Gods went up to Shiva (who was in his own meditation), Kama took the form of a Breeze and shot Shiva with one of his Arrows which caused Shiva to burn Rati's Beloved Husband into Ashes by his Third Eye which caused Rati to have a mental heartbreak of her Husband's death.

When her Husband was reborn as Pradyumma as the Son of Krishna, the Demon King found out that Rati's Husband was reborn, he threw the Child Pradyumma into the ocean where the Newborn would be swallowed as a fish but when a Couple found Baby Pradyumma under the fish's belly, they decide to raise the Rebirth Kama. Rati then took the form of a Woman under the name, "Mayavati" who would then serve as both a Nanny and later Wife to Pradyumma. After when Pradyumma slayed the Demon King, Kama and Rati return their own previous forms and return back to Dwarka.

SBSP Universe

Rati is very well pleasant, sweet, kind-hearted, a bit sly, and devoted with such desires of love as She and her Husband (Kama) are Partners who help each other out to spread the love throughout the world. Although despite the fact that she does look very seductive compare to Aphrodite and Venus, she can understand others' love for her but she would never cheat on her Beloved Husband. She's also a well caring and gentle Mother to their Sons (Harsha and Yashas).

However, if she saw that one lover turn out to be either abusive or selfish to their own significant other, she would tend to curse the live of a Toxic Partner for being so cruel towards their own partner if one must ever dare to tick her off with Anti-Love. She also happens to have her own Two Pets (A Parrot and even a Mare).

Given on how that Brahma saw that Kama felt so lonely that he desired a consort for himself, Rati was sent by Brahma to meet Kamadeva in a Beautiful Forest. Curious as she was around in the forest searching for him, they accidentality bump into each other and had a warm feeling of Love. Thus, it was Love at first sight for how the Love God admired the Love Goddess' Beauty for Rati seemed as although he started to like him after introducing themselves to each other. Rati seduced Kama with all of her might and beauty as she teased him with such love to get his own attention and then later Wed themselves where they were blessed with Two Sons.

During the day when Kama tricked Shiva into falling in love with Parvati through one of his arrows, Rati was curious on what was going on so she decided to help her Husband out to convince Parvati about Shiva that he's not a bad man and that he can be very a Faithful Loving Husband towards her as Parvati trusted the Two Love Gods as she married Shiva.

Although during the Days of Shiva and Parvati's family, Rati was given the task to become both a Nanny and an Aunt Figure to Shiva and Parvati's Sons (Kartikeya & Ganesha) as she would often tend to spoil the Young Gods. Not only that, she's also like as if she's almost a Mother Figure to everyone who treats her with respect.

She's also BFFs with both Aphrodite and Venus as they do love to chat about things that Goddesses would usually brag about as she's part of the Love Goddess Squad (alongside with Freya and Hathor). She also doesn't mind either King Neptune nor King Poseidon.

SpongeBob SquarePants (c) Stephen Hillenburg Rati (c) Hindu Mythology

#gods in spongebob #spongebob squarepants #hindu mythology #rati #love goddess #hinduism #hindu goddess

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punkpandapatrixk · 2 years

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The Kind of Magic Each Zodiac Sign Carries🧚🏻‍♀️ Pt.2

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away...

A Star was receiving punishment for horrendous crimes across the known Universe. The Star had disturbed the law and order of the Cosmos, so the sentence was for it to experience total Chaos for its repentance. It was decided the Star would test out different levels of consciousness to study duality and separation. A planet now torn apart by wars for its operation of Freewill was chosen as the Star's learning ground.

The Star, then, had to go through 12 cycles of birth and death on Gaia. Each time the Star was incarnate in a new form, it would take on a new name whilst retaining knowledge and memories from its previous incarnations. This is the birth, lives, and death of a Star through the zodiacal wheel.

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Here is a tiny myth (fictional tho) for new and old astrology students alike. This is meant to help you get familiar with the basic nature (or personality?) of each zodiac sign in a manner that allows you to see the more magical aspect of it—in both good and not-so-good ways.

Magic is impartial. There's creation magic and there's destruction magic. Rely on your own innate wisdom in regards to how you see creation and destruction as a positive or negative force.

[Back to Masterlist] [Part 1]

Ionno what was possessing me when I wrote Part 1. It was written almost half a year ago LMAO Reading it now, the whole writing is somewhat chaos. Do forgive me if you can😶It’s still a pretty wholesome post if you’re passionate about Astro hahah

⚖️Libra Magic

The Star returns to Gaia in its seventh incarnation. For the first time, the Star feels like an adult—like it's learnt enough and thus, wiser. Being on the opposite end of Aries, Libra now looks at its own first incarnation and ponders a lot the nature of being Human. What does it mean to be Human in a world that constantly bathes in misunderstandings and conflicts? Surely everybody has their own reasons behind their differing worldviews. The Star is no longer a child, but also not mature enough to understand all of the world with its intricacies. Libra thinks it best to try to balance itself in the way it thinks, perceives and judges the world. Libra thinks it best to always be fair with everybody. But in doing so, in prioritising that, sometimes Libra forgets it needs to be fair with itself—that it also needs to be prioritised and paid careful attention to.

Libra magic of creation - Priestess of Opulence

-This card is like the purplest in the whole deck like oh ma gosh if that ain’t the colour of Libra.-

Good cheer is in the blood of a Libra individual. Not only is Libra capable of creating magic everywhere it goes, but by its sheer presence Libra is a delight to others; this is because Libra casts beauty on whatever it touches. And just like that, Libra often serves as a source of inspiration for those around it. There’s beauty, but there’s also ambition and petty jealousy. Libra holds ambitchious power which it doesn’t speak of very often but others can see it via natural charisma. Oh, and… have you seen a Libra individual who isn’t destined for riches? They’re a rarity instead. Libra has this inner knowing that they can be and achieve whatever they want. The ambition is there. The only other challenge is whether or not Libra will allow itself to be bitchy enough to have its way in the world🚬😎

Libra magic of destruction - 9 of Cups Rx

Trying too hard to be rational, Libra can often forego daydreams. What this causes to a Libra individual is a sense of bitterness. An underdeveloped Libra consciousness that has become bitter can be spiteful. And if you think this spells disaster for those around it, WRONG. A spiteful Libra bitch is a disaster to itself. Robbing itself of the little pleasures of life by being so preoccupied with low self-esteem, a toxic Libra individual pours poison to its own pool of mental clarity. It’s not like such an individual becomes toxic to others, but they just appear to be annoying in the eye of others. And being seen unfavourably by others only adds to a Libra’s sense of disorientation!

Point of self-actualisation - Silver Physician (John Dee)

Spiritual health gives maintenance to mental health, and the latter gives sustenance to physical health. This is literally what this oracle is all about. And so for the Star to thrive in this human world as a Libra, it would need to learn to balance all of those areas. It may sound like a tall order written on paper, but the Libra consciousness would be happy to know it’s been able to maintain order in such a fashion. Libra is symbolised by a scale (the only symbol that’s actually an inanimate object) and thus, carries both the consciousnesses of Virgo and Scorpio. In its previous incarnation as Virgo the Star was learning about being of service to others via self-sacrifice; meanwhile its next incarnation as Scorpio already causes the Libra Star to have anxieties about power and selfishness. The Star’s point of self-actualisation as a Libra then, becomes very confusing as only itself can decide what’s become its achievement whilst being incarnate as a diplomat consciousness. The key though, will always be balance.

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

🦂Scorpio Magic

The Star now enters its eighth incarnation on Gaia as Scorpio. Having dealt with a sense of disorientation when it comes to its own identity for so long (from Aries all the way to Libra), the Star now seeks to solidify its own persona in the world. A persona may be a shadowplay but Scorpio is only at the beginning stages of creating an identity. A solid one at that. But the more important thing is that when a Scorpio presents itself outwardly, everything it chooses to express is by its own personal decree. Scorpio thinks what it wants to think and does as it pleases. And if it could influence someone else to taste a similar flavour of freedom, it would be happy. But Scorpio isn’t particularly concerned with such a thing because Scorpio lives for itself. Selfish as that may be, Scorpio is only trying to not be absorbed by its environment. So Scorpio keeps a lot of its real identity under wraps so nobody gets access to manipulate it.

Scorpio magic of creation - Priestess of Prosperity

There is no Scorpio who isn’t smart. The Scorpio intuition is piercing and intellect penetrative. Being a Water sign, its spirituality also plays a big role in determining a Scorpio individual’s type of eerie logic. When a Scorpio individual decides to not care what others think, they can only become more and more abundant in Life. A liberated Scorpio who has a good grasp on reality is quite literally the world’s greatest master manifesters. Well, as long as Scorpio lives for its own peaceful happiness tho, which may not always be so easy because Scorpio sorta feels what others think or say. On the outside I’m skrt skrt; on the inside I’m hurt hurt. A Scorpio individual who has been hurt a lot in Life will carry this magic of creation that’s fueled by vengeance. Vengeance on their lame past motivates Scorpio to achieve greatness and respect in the world, but whatever happens to their wounded spirit? Who knows. It’s Scorpio.

Scorpio magic of destruction - VI The Lovers Rx

Scorpio is obsessive, controlling and manipulative. They want to know and own all of you, but they guard themselves up that you don’t even know who they are. You can’t own Scorpio, but you belong to them if they’re obsessed enough with you. On top of such selfish logic, though Scorpio is usually calm and charismatic, it has no fear of doing the criminal things to do for punishment. Obsession is just one of Scorpio’s most conflicting traits—whether it’s used for good or bad depends on context. But Scorpio’s obsessive behaviours that have turned unhealthy could be its greatest downfall. Being on the opposite end of Taurus, Scorpio has that undercurrent of stubbornness to let go of what’s really not good for itself. Scorpio isn’t keen on letting go of what it considers its possession. It may not even be keen on changing the way it perceives things. Still, Scorpio is an old soul who has matured a lot, so unlike the stupid Taurus, Scorpio does learn eventually. And, rather quickly too.

Point of self-actualisation - Green Physician (Paracelsus)

-I honestly almost had nothing trying to derive any energetic information here. Such is the depth, and darkness, of Scorpio.-

For the sake of simplicity, let it be said that Scorpio’s point of self-actualisation is health and balance. This is because Scorpio can deal a lot with a sense of paralysis from its own obsessions. Different from Virgo’s analysis-paralysis, Scorpio’s paralysis is on the spiritual level. When Scorpio doesn’t understand itself, it ponders and ruminates to no end the meaning of good vs bad. Has it been a good incarnation or has it been a terrible incarnation? Is it good to have been so bad in society one gets feared? Or is it bad to have been so good that one gets underestimated by society? And on and on and on the answer everlastingly elusive. The Star would be successful in its incarnation as a Scorpio—its Soul would be satisfied—when it reaches its own peaceful conclusion. Not perfect, not good, not right; just what’s peaceful for itself. And that is the kind of thing that requires a lifetime of learning to make peace with its own dark, convoluted logic.

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

🎠Sagittarius Magic

Moving forwards in the zodiacal wheel, the Star enters its ninth incarnation and begins to let go of the notion of being just human. The Star is right in the middle of phase two of its lessons on Gaia. The Star ponders a lot the meaning of being Human based on what it’s learnt so far about the Human world and its societies, cultures, dogmas and dramas. It’s clear enough Gaia is a messy place, but then, what must one do to ameliorate all of the reasons Gaia is a messed up place? The more the Star focuses on resolving Human conflicts, the more aware it becomes of all things that are ugly about Humans. And the more the Star allows itself to notice only the ugly parts, the more it comes into conflict with everyone else. And so the Star itself becomes a contributing factor in the conflicts and dramas of the Human realm. The more the Star tries to become higher than Humans, the more human it becomes, strangely enough🤷🏻‍♀️

Sagittarius magic of creation - Priestess of Inspiration

Being so big-brained and courageous—to a point of being petty, savage, and even plainly insufferable—Sagittarius is the world’s best inspirational character. Whether as a teacher, celebrity, or whatever. When Sagittarius consciousness is kind, mature, and compassionate, the individual could become so well-liked for their courage and respected for their savage. The key to achieving this wonderful point of self-creation is only one: heart. A Sagittarius incarnation can be said successful only when an individual uses their high-strung temperament for the purpose of ameliorating other people’s cowardice.

Sagittarius magic of destruction - King of Wands Rx

-I swear I shuffled the fuck outta these cards!!🤣-

Sagittarius’s most annoying trait is this: using its unique way of thinking and sheer fiery passion to act holier than thou. This attitude, coupled with a lack of actually proper study, gives rise to Sagittarius’s famed insufferably high-conflict personality. Must you always fight everyone who thinks differently than you? Must you always endeavour to fix another’s mindset/priority that doesn’t resemble your own? Must you always slip into that teacher role to straighten up other people’s conduct? Must you really take up all of these burdens on your shoulders and burn bridges with those you could have a friendly union with? Dunno. Sagittarius only cares what it wants to care. And others don’t get to change that. And, really, with that aggressive sense of social justice, who are you trying to protect, really, when you’re not even that social?

Point of self-actualisation - Red Astrologer (William Lilly)

With its keen intelligence, Sagittarius is the type of consciousness that sees all of the world’s problems. And it wants to fix them. And even if the Star could have a difficult time expressing this vulnerably and honestly, it does care a lot about other people. The Star cares so much about the Human world it can’t stand idly by watching the world burn itself. It’s just… Sagittarius’s method is often broken. The Star would be satisfied with itself if it accepts that being conflicty itself doesn’t resolve anything in the world. That it must spend its energy wisely into extensive study instead. That the pursuit of studying itself, also, is not about proving anything to anyone. That study is used to contribute something better than what’s already existing. This, is precisely the Star’s biggest lesson being incarnate as Sagittarius. Maybe because Gemini sits opposite to it and the Star still feels bitter about how its Gemini incarnation was so much all about people pleasing, and now it wants to exert power over everyone else instead. The Star wants to be seen as strong, opinionated and capable. At the end of the day, the Star just wants to be useful to its society. After all, there aren’t that many chances left to come to Gaia to fix all of the Planet’s problems.

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

🐐Capricorn Magic

The Star is now at its tenth incarnation on Gaia. The last of the Earth element. By this point, the Star has reached maturity and come to understand a lot more about the intricacies of society vs self. Being Earthy, Capricorn possesses strong, determined, unshakeable qualities reminiscent of Virgo and Taurus. Capricorn perceives itself to be incredibly strong and thus, wishes to be a pillar for those it cares about. Sitting on the opposite end of motherly Cancer, Capricorn also expresses a similar self-sacrificing tendency through hard work. The Star believes at this point, that in order to be happy and fulfilled one must work really hard in accordance with the rules and laws of society. Capricorn plays smart by being not in direct opposition to structure, custom and law. But that workaholic-ism and blind obsession with glory may have caused the Star to forget the true meaning of enjoyment whilst being on Gaia…

Capricorn magic of creation - Priestess of Divination

Capricorn probably doesn’t get enough recognition for its protective tendencies. Listen, being ruled by Saturn, Capricorn consciousness often involves tons of restrictions and a feeling of being repressed, suppressed, walked all over—until the individual finds their own strength purely from within. With this raw transformative power Capricorn becomes strong and seeks to protect others from harm and malice. This is why Capricorn individuals are known to be workaholics. They know money is the ultimate tool for protection as they seek to shelter and provide for others. Capricorn consciousness, when developed properly, is the Earth’s ultimate protector—the Divine Father.

Capricorn magic of destruction - 7 of Wands Rx

With an inability to delegate or share its burdens, Capricorn destroys its own capacity for compassion through a martyr mindset. Yo, I’m the only one sacrificing myself to this degree and you’re still complaining?! How about some gratitude?! That’s toxic because in this way Capricorn doesn’t acknowledge another’s need for its attention, affection, beyond material possession. When this continues tho, Capricorn feels underappreciated for all its efforts and retreats deeper into isolation (sulking) because it doesn’t know how to convey its love. And just like that, Capricorn continues dwindling the drain of loneliness.

Point of self-actualisation - Red Magus (Edward Kelly)

In this card, Kelly looks into a scrying mirror made out of black obsidian. This is a crystal best known for its protective properties. But the question the Star must ponder is this: in trying to protect and shelter those it cares about, what is it sacrificing? If the Star’s aggressive protection becomes someone else’s prison, it’s pointless. The Star would end up regretting this a lot at the end of its incarnation. Self-reflection and a courage to admit the importance of human relations on an emotional level are the only things that can salvage the Star in its incarnation as Capricorn. Being cowardly doesn’t suit Capricorn.

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

🏺Aquarius Magic

In a manner of speaking, Aquarius is the Star’s oldest incarnation as anything remotely Human. Being the last Air element, Aquarius is the height of Human intelligence. The Star is devoted to the amelioration of Human suffering as it dedicates itself to pioneering inventions and setting higher bars for new ways of doing as well as perceiving things. Aquarius wants legacy, but more than that, it wants to see a brand new world. For these reasons, Aquarius may become so preoccupied with being different and causing a disturbance in society. Well, that’s probably just a risk any pioneer must take. The convoluted nature of Aquarius’s way of thinking is not something many can grasp and this could cause a sense of alienation from the rest Mankind, which Aquarius so desperately wants to save.

Aquarius magic of creation - Priestess of Contemplation

Of course, high-speed thought process. Not many people acknowledge just how spiritual Aquarius is. Being so close to the last in the zodiacal wheel, Aquarius is like a bridge between the Higher Realms and the Human world. This is why Aquarius individuals think differently and are capable of ingenious ideas. They get those electrifying ideas from somewhere else. And so, being given so much talent and having so much fervour for change, if Aquarius isn’t meant to be humanist and charitable with its latent transformative prowess—what then becomes the meaning of its existence?

Aquarius magic of destruction - Knight of Cups Rx

Hmm yeah…when infantile and underdeveloped, Aquarius individuals are the world’s greatest emotional manipulators. Is that something to be proud of? Dunno. Aquarius is crazy anyway. This inability to connect to anybody on an emotional level causes Aquarius to have very little regard or respect for human emotions. Such an individual could become cruel to a point of turning into a serial killer even. Of course, there is no Aquarius who doesn’t know how to charm another, so that only adds to the danger of having one such person around.

Point of self-actualisation - Red Astronomer (Johannes Kepler)

Let it be known that the Star needs to focus on future events if it wishes to achieve satisfaction by the end of its incarnation. What this means, essentially, is that it would be wise for Aquarius to always carefully think about the consequences of its actions. Whether it is personal or professional; in private or public; Aquarius needs to think about its image. This isn’t mere image maintenance for no reason at all. Aquarius often doesn’t realise its own influence on others that cause others to want to look up to them. The Star may or may not like the attention—how others put burden and expectations on them—but it is what it is. And if the Star cares enough about leaving a positive legacy in the world, these are some of the important things to keep in mind.

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

🎏Pisces Magic

The Star’s ultimate incarnation on Gaia. Is Pisces Human? Is it God? Is it a fairy? Or is it just energy? Dunno. Pisces is hard to pin down because it’s fishy. Symbolised by two fishes going in different directions whilst being tied at the tail, Pisces is schizophrenia and the world’s mania. It’s obsessive but hopeless because it’s lacking a backbone. It’s also ambitious but self-undoing due to a series of cowardly escapism. What the Star wishes to accomplish in its last incarnation is all-encompassing and this can cause it to lose balance all the time. Pulled in different directions; absorbed by all kinds of environment; manipulated by all kinds of hyenas Humans. Pisces desperately wants to be good but this ugly world ain’t letting it have it easy…

Pisces magic of creation - Priestess of Luxury

Yeah, this is literally saying: there’s nothing in this world you can’t have. I see it, I like it, I want it, I got it. Yup. With Pisces’s vast understanding of the ways of the Matrix world, it is the world’s Magician. If Pisces wants, it can manifest gold out of thin air. There is so much magic for creation and that is for helping the world. An accomplished Pisces who knows its own place in the world and all the ways and reasons it is different from the rest of the world possesses the power to make the world cower before its supreme Co-Creation prowess. The last standing challenge is only whether or not Pisces can allow itself to embrace such immense power.

Pisces magic of destruction - 6 of Pentacles Rx

When Pisces lives continuously in a cowardly manner, it quickly loses sight of its own manifestation power. It stops caring what power and manifestation mean because it is so immensely unhappy. Nothing in the world matters if Pisces is spiritually unsatisfied. Working is disappointing, socialising is disappointing, eating is disappointing, showering is disappointing, self-care is disappointing, making an effort is disappointing, loving and hating are disappointing, breathing itself is disappointing. There’s nothing left to share of itself because Pisces is just tired of Life…

Point of self-actualisation - Red Alchemist (John Dee)

-Okay, this is like the most fitting card that could appear for this part like OMG.-

The Star’s immense capacity for empathy is both a blessing to the world and a curse for itself. It requires a great deal of discipline for the Star to be able to protect itself from the negative consciousnesses of the Human Matrix. Problem is, protection is almost impossible given its empathy, so the next best thing for Pisces to do is constant distillation. To remove impurities from its system (energetic field) and maintain fresh, clean perspectives on the challenges of being Human. If the Star ignores this one key secret, it’ll only become a channel or medium for negative consciousnesses to manifest their destructive desires into this Matrix. That’s not very pretty. Given the last scores, it’ll be decided whether or not the Star has done well in serving its sentence for its past crimes. If the Star hasn’t learnt enough… who knows… it might have to be plunged into the whole cycle one more time~

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

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glorf1ndel · 10 months

Text

The Gift (~800 words, gen)

For Day 2 of @tolkiengenweek, inspired by the prompt "animals." Huan receives the gift of speech from a being called the Hunter. A strange thing, when he can already speak.

Read on Ao3 or below!

When Huan is young, he learns that he has the gift of speech.

He is just a pup, dwelling in the woods with his mother, when a being called the Hunter calls upon him. Huan’s first instinct is to quiver in fear, for he has never seen a creature like this before. The Hunter walks on two legs and has no fur. A pair of horns rests atop his head, yet he does not resemble a deer. His face is covered in a myriad of dark eyes, and every single gaze is trained on Huan.

Are you afraid of me? the Hunter barks. Caught off guard, Huan wavers. He did not expect a creature so different from him to speak his language. Huan may understand the buzzing of bees and the gurgling of fish, but this being is unlike anything he’s seen in the forest. Yet he speaks like Huan.

No, Huan says. He is not sure if he is lying.

From the Hunter, Huan learns of his future. He is a wolfhound, and he will accompany the Hunter on his many journeys into the wilderness. With guidance, Huan will learn to track smaller, weaker creatures for the Hunter to capture. Huan is not sure he wants to do this, but does he have a choice, when faced with the will of this mighty being?

That is not all, the Hunter says. Huan discovers that the great powers of the universe have given him special gifts. First, he will grow larger than the usual hound. Second, he is immortal, tireless, and sleepless. According to the Hunter, these are rare and valuable traits to have. Lastly – and most importantly, the being says – Huan will be allowed to speak three times in his lifetime.

What do you mean? Huan growls. I can speak now.

Aye, says the Hunter. But not in the languages of the Eldar.

I don’t understand.

The Eldar are a new type of creature, different from you or me. You will meet them soon. Although they cannot understand your language, you will be able to understand theirs.

How is it that you can speak my language, he asks the Hunter, But these so-called Eldar cannot?

The Hunter smiles. A sudden warmth flows through Huan’s bones; he is not sure he likes the feeling.

Many things come easily to my kind. As for the Eldar, I suppose I could teach them, but that would take a very long time. Thus, you will have three opportunities to speak to them. You must choose these moments wisely.

Huan bows his head, but in his mind, he does not think this fair.

Time passes, and Huan continues to ponder. Even after he meets the Eldar – and they are very different from him – he still does not agree with the Hunter. Huan’s ability to speak to the Eldar and be understood was presented as a gift, even though the Hunter admitted that he could teach the Eldar Huan’s language. It strikes Huan as strange that the Hunter sees some languages as more important than others. Does that mean some beings are more important than others? But Huan keeps these thoughts to himself. He is, after all, the Hunter’s wolfhound.

Yet the Hunter must take pity on Huan’s unusual situation, for one day, he introduces Huan to Tyelko. He is an unusual sort of Elda, with hair brighter than the sun, hands that gesture to everything in sight, and a crooked smile that shows all his teeth. Although Huan is wary, he approaches Tyelko, letting out a few soft barks.

Who are you?

To his surprise, the Elda gazes down at him and yips in return.

A friend of Oromë, the one you call the Hunter.

Huan can hardly believe his ears.

You understand me? Huan asks, wagging his tail in delight.

Oromë taught me.

Why?

I don’t know. Tyelko laughs. I don’t pretend to understand his ways. But I’m glad I can speak to you.

Suddenly, Huan lifts his head to the sky and lets out a long, triumphant howl. Tyelko grins and wraps his arms around Huan’s neck. Resting his cheek against Huan’s fur, he begins to hum. Huan may not speak the language of the Eldar, but he knows that this is a sign of contentment.

I think this means we’ll be friends forever, says Tyelko.

I think so, too, Huan says. Yet his thoughts drift back to the Hunter, and he wonders. The Hunter’s gift still stands, despite everything. For what? Huan smiles, shaking his head. Why would Huan ever need to speak the languages of the Eldar, when Tyelko understands him?

****

Thank you for reading. ♡ If you'd like, leave a comment or kudos on Ao3, or like and reblog this post!<3

#tolkiengenweek #silm #silmarillion #huan #orome #celegorm #silm fic

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whisker-biscuit · 10 months

Text

A Frankenstein’s Fixation

Fandom: Guardians of the Galaxy

Rating: T

Warnings: body horror, animal abuse, ableism, spoilers for Guardians of the Galaxy 3

Summary: "But you are not any other scientist. You are the scientist. The High Evolutionary. What is satisfactory to others is merely adequate to you in your endeavor for perfection. And in that endeavor, 89P13 is no more than a stepping stone. You are certain of that."

Or:

The High Evolutionary and his many thoughts about his "favorite" little monster.

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Earth fascinates you much more than you could have ever predicted.

You had originally been in that quadrant of the galaxy to visit Asgard; Earth, admittedly, had not even been in your awareness. But on one of your extended trips, during your numerous conversations with Odin and his scholars about their newest discoveries in all realms of science and mathematics, the king had mentioned a trip he had once made to the nearby primitive planet several thousand years before.

He had spoken at length about the native people he’d encountered there who had seen his impressive powers and technology and as such started worshiping him and his kin as gods. It was quaint but entirely off-topic from what you were there to discuss, and so you humored his tales only long enough for him to share some of the gifts he had been given before his journey home. Most were weapons and armor of various designs, which were useful to a warrior king but did not hold your attention, and you had stated your interest in returning to previous subjects.

That was, until he showed you the music.

A melody like you had never heard before thrummed through the room, through your body, through your very soul. It was the ingenuity of beings who did not have the knowledge of things so much greater than them but who still knew it was there, and had transcribed their deep-seated intuition into the most understandable of all languages – music.

“What is the meaning of this song?” You’d asked Odin, mystified and delighted.

“It is a ballad about a traveler who meets his end on a road he thought he knew well,” he had told you. “A cautionary tale, I believe. I see you like it; would you like to hear more?”

“Please show me everything you have.”

After that, Odin himself had taken you to Earth for the rest of your stay with him, so that you could travel the vast planet and sample its musical wonders from the endless cultures that dwelled on it. Even then, so many millennia after the song that the Asgardian had recorded had been made, there was still no shortage of creativity among Earth’s people.

You began making frequent trips on your own after that as you began creating civilizations over the next several centuries. Earth and its art, its music, its creativity were great sources of inspiration for you even as its societies changed and grew, and there were endless resources of lower life forms to use for the messier aspects of your work.

As you began striving for perfection, however, Earth seemed to do the opposite. Ignorance and bigotry had long been an unfortunate staple of life, but Terrans seemed to amplify the concepts tenfold despite all being of one planet. A consequence of their heightened muses, or a microcosm of everything wrong with the universe – a question you never sought to answer when you could just as easily solve the root of the problem with your own designs instead.

Your last visit was in the Terran year of 1989, and after that you deigned to simply breed the animals taken from Earth for more subjects instead of returning for more. It was with a rare moment of melancholy that you made the decision to never visit again, but you were confident that there was nothing more to be gained from the planet than what you had already found. In fact, you were nearly certain that you could recreate that source of inspiration and creativity without the complications its originators had come with.

Thus began your journey to build your newest society.

Counter-Earth.

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Batch 89 had been an insightful experience of what to do – or perhaps, more aptly, what not to do – in evolving lower lifeforms into something worthwhile.

You had started with an Oryctolagus Cuniculus, applying most of its enhancements externally. Antenna stemming through the cranium to provide extra sensory input for unsatisfactory brain development; shortened hind hocks in an effort to encourage bipedal movement, and then extra appendages to account for that immediate failure; a mouthpiece to allow for speech when the subject’s natural mouth was not built to form the syllables and sounds required for proper communication.

89L06 had become a grotesque amalgamation of a toddler’s attempt to merge a mammal and an insect by the end, but the trial and error had given your team a solid starting point for the next. You moved on.

An Odobenus Rosmarus was chosen next in the hopes that its larger size would allow for a greater margin of error compared to the tiny body of its predecessor. In some ways, it did – the brain did not need as invasive an enhancement procedure as L06, and so its intelligence was markedly improved. A set of wheels were connected through its pelvic girdle to improve movability and versatility on land, and it was with this experiment that you began testing the viability of internal mechanical augmentation as opposed to external.

Although marginally more put-together than the previous subject, 89A95 still looked like a Frankenstein’s monster, one of Earth’s myths, with far too much bulk and not enough elegance. With a better understanding of the intricacies of rebuilding a body from the ground up, you moved on.

Back to another, smaller animal; a Lontra Canadensis. An augmented spinal cord to keep it walking upright at all times, and replacement of its forelegs with metal limbs when its paws were deemed inadequate for complex dexterity. Its mental capacity was considerably greater than its predecessors, and it was the first in its batch to develop abstract thinking of its own accord. Lamentably, however, its intelligence hit a limit upon introducing mathematical concepts more complicated than basic algebra. 89Q12 would offer no more insight than the rest of its batch.

You should not have moved on.

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It intrigues you, when you first approach that cage, how nearly all of the infant Procyon Lotor subjects recoil away from your hand. They huddle in the furthest corners, tiny faces turned from the perceived threat hovering over them, shaking and whining like the simple-minded beasts they are.

All but one.

It cowers just like the rest of its kin, but it makes neither sound nor movement when you reach for it. For a moment, you wonder if it might lash out and try to bite you, but its fear seems to paralyze it as your fingers close around its tiny body and lift it out of the cage. The lack of reaction gives you pause; either this particular subject has a modicum of intelligence to recognize that struggling is an impractical endeavor, or its mental capacities are so lacking that it doesn’t even fully comprehend that it is in danger.

Impossible to tell the difference at this stage. That would be discovered at a much later date in the experimental procedure. And if it is indeed the latter case, well. You could just start over with another.

Dark beady eyes watch you without blinking as you lock the cage and take it towards the operation room.

You don’t spare it a glance in return. It is just another face in a sea of countless experiments, ignorant and lesser and unintelligent. The only meaning it has is as the stepping stone you have already declared it to be.

---------------------------------------------------------

Initially, 89P13 does not give any indication of marked difference from Q12. Your team has fine-tuned the process of reshaping these primitive bodies into something greater, and so it is easy to introduce metal and neurological enhancements where needed. For the first six months, its sternum and pelvis are repeatedly broken as it grows so as to make room for the augmentation that will allow it to remain upright, and the digits on its paws are guided for further growth with the help of metal splints. Its intelligence and social skills are tracked both during testing and while with the rest of Batch 89, and that development follows the same pattern as Q12.

That is, at first. At six and a half months, P13 finally surpasses Q12’s understanding of the scientific concepts presented. It absorbs all the processes taught to it without a single mistake, and remembers every single one during the next session. Your team are thrilled to have something new to work with while they wait for your next brilliant design.

Except that design doesn’t come. You know you are at the end of anything worthwhile with Batch 89 and that it’s time to move on to the next batch, but you cannot decide what that batch will be. It is not for lack of choices, either – further external or internal modification, or focus on a singular species for study, or even a return to bipedal life forms that are more closely aligned with Terrans, such as primates. Any of these directions would be well-suited for pursual by any other scientist.

But you are not any other scientist. You are the scientist. The High Evolutionary. You use such basic paths of research as points to jump off of into something truly enlightened.

During this period of inner turmoil, you find yourself observing P13's sessions in person more than any of its batch's predecessors – perhaps more than any individual experiment since Ayesha of the Sovereign. You chalk it up to boredom and lack of inspiration at first; you are simply occupying your mind by watching the accelerated growth of a lesser one to remind yourself of how much can be, has been achieved by your great intellect, and it holds your attention with a decent amount of amusement.

Then, a breakthrough. Not in your own stagnation, but in P13's.

One of your Recorders passes by its cage one evening, and finds the subject talking animatedly to its fellow experiments about having learned how to apply polynomial functions to a square matrix – something your team has not yet taught it. They take it to an observation room and page you immediately, and that is how you find yourself with an interrupted sleep cycle watching a Procyon Lotor chattering excitedly as it fills out complex formulas on a blank tablet.

The last time you had checked P13's progress three days ago, it had been studying linear algebra and had just barely been introduced to how to determine the degree of a polynomial. Now, independently, it has taught itself functional calculus.

It turns to you excitedly, showing off its work – all correct, you can tell with only a glance – and waits for you to say something. You crouch down beside it and let the silence linger as you consider this rare phenomenon and how best to address it.

“Remarkable, 89P13,” you tell it, watching the way it smiles at the compliment. “How did you come to this realization on your own?”

“The numberses,” it says, eyes alight with the spark of a million firing neural synapses, “I thinks about missing number in polynomial function, and then…then I wonders why missing number gotta be one number. Why not lots of numberses?”

The incorrect grammar sets your teeth on edge but you ignore the urge to correct it. Such a thing can be done later, after the extent of this newfound intellect that P13 is expressing has been determined. You consider your experiment carefully.

“That’s fantastic. Very inspired thinking.”

It squeaks in surprise when your hand clamps down around its head, but the only movement it makes is the nervous darting of its eyes as it stares up at you.

“Theel.” You address your Recorder, still studying the creature in your hold.

“Sire?”

“Inform the rest of Batch 89’s handlers that they are to focus all their efforts on teaching 89P13 to find what its intellectual limits are. The rest of Batch 89 can be disregarded.”

“Of course, Sire.”

There’s an odd little flicker in P13’s eyes for just one brief moment, and then it’s gone. One of your fingers shifts to gently stroke the fur along its head. It remains tense and nervous, no doubt having long-associated your touch with pain from its many surgeries, but its ears perk up in hesitant anticipation.

“Learn more? I learns more?”

“Yes, P13.” You allow a small smile of your own to grace your lips over its enthusiasm. “You’re going to learn so much more. I’m going to see to that personally. Now, why don’t you show me more of you’ve figured out?”

89P13 relaxes and goes back to the tablet, writing animatedly in its rush to show you everything it can do. You don’t let go of its head for quite some time.

---------------------------------------------------------

You wake up in the middle of the night, two days after P13’s incredible revelation, with one of your own: why force artificial evolution in these creatures when you can simply induce what comes naturally to them, accelerated instantaneously instead of over millennia?

Further sleep is forgotten as you begin charting concepts and procedures. The first blueprints for Batch 90 have begun.

---------------------------------------------------------

The next three months pass in a blur of evolutionary experimentation and genetic computation. You work with renewed vigor from your epiphany and your scientists follow suit. The main goal of instantaneous evolution for Batch 90 is calculated fairly quickly and testing begins almost immediately after that. You can feel Counter-Earth within your reach now; all you need is to resolve the kinks in this new process in your quest to make perfect lifeforms, as such a thing has never been achieved before.

‘Growing pains’, as the pun goes, are to be expected. There just happens to be one particular pain that seems to evade your comprehension no matter what you try. It’s frustrating, this overproduction of Lygo-Beta Microsomino Proteins, but you are sure you will solve it eventually.

In the meantime, you keep a keen interest in 89P13’s personal progress.

Nonlinear partial differential equations. Number theory. Escape Velocity. M-Theory. Countless other subjects. The experiment’s brain soaks everything up like a dry sponge thrown into a body of water and applies it all well beyond what is taught. You have seen and studied gifted adolescents extensively – you were one yourself, after all. But you have never encountered anything like this.

Every time P13 proves a theorem correct, you feel your mouth curl up at the corners. Every time it assembles an assortment of parts into a viable spaceship engine or perfectly completes a simulation for navigating through a quantum asteroid field, you feel your fingers twitch at your sides. Every time a member of your team looks on in wonder or voices amazement at the subject’s accelerated understanding of literally every topic given to it, you feel your back straighten and your chin rise just a little bit higher.

That’s your creation. That’s your handiwork. That’s your genius at work. You have made something whose mind surpasses even that of some of the lower-level scientists under your employ, and with it is a shining sense of pride that you have not felt since the successful launch of Orgoscope. You begin overseeing P13’s sessions directly, if only to appreciate firsthand what you’ve created.

The subject still flinches at your touch, and yet now it seeks it out willingly, eagerly, like a dog to a harsh but firm master. It craves guidance and praise, and you are happy to oblige. Such praise, after all, has always been and will always be for you more than it.

Any and all frustrations from the issues with Batch 90 are negated, at least for a little while, whenever you return to P13. You might be stuck again, but you easily find emotional release upon watching it work. The slightest creepings of failure are kept at bay by barely an hour with P13.

Once, when you are having a moment of introspection while recovering from a particularly fatiguing personal treatment, you have the thought of letting P13 live longer than its usefulness requires. The metaphorical ceiling of its capabilities will be reached someday, and then it will be dissected for study so that you might replicate its remarkable brainpower in the future, but for almost half a minute you entertain the idea of putting that end off for just a little while.

Procyon Lotors can live up to ten years in captivity with proper care, and 89P13 wants for nothing. If it reaches its intellectual threshold soon, at just over a year old, surely its brain would not deteriorate if you waited, say, until it was five or six?

Then you shake your head and chuckle at yourself for the silly notion. You are growing sentimental for a creature that only exists through your own accomplishments.

No, that’s not quite right. You are growing sentimental for a mind that only exists through your own accomplishments. The creature itself is still an abomination in every other way, and that, you decide, must be where the source of your moment of weakness originates. You wish P13’s mind had come in a better physical form instead of the stepping stone you had always intended it to be.

Oh, well. There will be plenty of chances for that to be the case in the future, once the secrets of that beautiful brain have all become yours.

For now, however, 89P13 has another session coming up – and this one is special, because you have decided to let it take place in your central observation room. What better way to find inspiration for Batch 90’s problem that has been eluding you than the sight of Counter-Earth being built, and this little monster with a mind you have so many plans for sitting on your knee?

---------------------------------------------------------

You refuse to entertain 89P13’s so-called “solution” to Batch 90’s problem. You refuse.

It’s such a simple answer. Too little filtration. It’s too simple – something conjured up by the mind of a child in an attempt to look mature in a room of adults. A tiny buffoon in a room of intellectual giants. None of your scientists have thought of it, and more importantly, you have not thought of it, and if that is the case then surely that means it isn’t an answer at all.

So you refuse to consider the filtration.

Batch 91 tries a different route for solving the over-aggression. Multiple routes. Each one ends a failure, or only rectifies the issue at the cost of far bigger ones that you cannot afford to gamble with. Instantaneous evolution is not so cut and dry as science fiction might make it out to be, and the only stable procedure for it brings you right back to square one.

But you refuse to consider the filtration.

Another few months pass in a vicious cycle of sketching out new concepts, building the equipment necessary to test them, and then watching it all be for nothing as the problem rears its ugly head over and over and over again.

You stop supervising 89P13’s sessions entirely. Watching the way it so easily solves complex problems that should have stumped it no longer fills you with pride but with rage. How dare it think it’s better than you? Than any of you? To so flippantly tell you what is wrong with your own calculations as if it has any right to even be part of the conversation to begin with?

A Recorder tells you one day that P13 is finally speaking in full sentences with proper grammar, having fully surpassed Batch 89 in every way. The breakthrough you had once planned to be present for is now just an irritating interruption in your other, more important investigations.

When 89P13 is just under a year and a half old, you finally consider the filtration.

You tell your team to create a new batch of subjects, and the first experiment will be to do exactly what P13 had claimed would solve the problem. You are at your wit’s end and you will entertain this notion once, just to prove it asinine as you’ve always known it was, and then you will move on. You are so certain it will be another failure that you don’t even stay to see the implementation or the result.

You get the notification an hour later, in the middle of another treatment: Batch 92 is a resounding success.

You have never been more furious in your life.

---------------------------------------------------------

One of the hallmarks of a traumatic experience is said to be gaps in memory. The mind, unable to fully process what it has just been through, will sometimes purge all remembrance of the event in order to protect the mental and emotional state of the being it belongs to.

You receive no such courtesy.

You wake up long after the assault; long after your Recorders found you lying prone and vulnerable and bleeding; long after they tried and failed to heal you.

As far as galactic medicine has come, it still cannot restore what was lost. Appendages – fingers or legs or arms or eyes – are all things that can only be put back together if one still has the missing pieces. You find out, the hard way, that also includes muscles and skin.

“We’re so happy you’re okay, Sire!” Your subordinates titter as you relearn how to eat and drink and speak through excruciating pain.

“It’s a miracle you’re alive, Sire!” They squeal as your body rejects skin graft after skin graft until the doctors finally admit that your molecular makeup is too unique for it.

“You’ll be back to your old self in no time, Sire!” You hear time and time again, over and over, as a prosthetic is made so that you can hide the gruesome, twisted monstrosity that you have become.

No, not what you have become. What you have been turned into.

There is no going back from this; no return to an old self or an old form or even a new form. A new form implies improvement. Enhancement. Evolution. Perfection. You have become the opposite of that, a monster, and you remember everything with perfect clarity.

A monster begotten by another monster.

And by the God that does not exist, you know that if you ever get your hands on that little monster ever again, you are going to hold his head between your hands and squeeze until there’s nothing left to squeeze.

And you will never, ever stop.

---------------------------------------------------------

A/N: If I had a nickel for every time I wrote about a character who was obsessed with an anthropomorphic raccoon, I'd have two nickels - which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice.

I've had this bastard on my mind since I saw the movie a month and a half ago. He's been simultaneously extremely fun and extremely frustrating to write, fighting me practically every scene which is why it took so long to actually finish the darn thing. Thank you James Gunn for giving us such an awful, wonderful villain to love to hate.

Thank you for reading!

#guardians of the galaxy #guardians of the galaxy 3 #guardians of the galaxy spoilers #rocket raccoon #the high evolutionary

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possumbylight · 1 year

Text

Rose Colored Goggles

A/N: y’all are so cool for liking and reblogging my last post i love you all. anyway here’s another thing that i have previously posted on my ao3 that i’d like to move over to tumblr as well, hope you enjoy!! ;)

Summary: In which the Knights of Favonius, the Anemo Archon, and the Darknight Hero perform an experiment on the Chief Alchemist, all while missing a crucial element that’s hidden in plain sight.

Warnings: None I don’t think? slight drunkenness but that is expected amongst these folks

Pairings: Albedo/Reader, the knights and others as assorted friends because once again i love writing fics where all the characters get to hang out together

The Angel’s Share on a Tuesday night was not the ideal place for those wishing to maintain any pride they harbored for the famed Knights of Favonius. Should any inquiring minds visit the tavern on that particular night, they might find, to their horror, that the Knights were not windswept heroes of legend, but common drunks who bantered and argued with the bartender until he threw them out by their coattails and reminded them not to puke on the cobblestone outside his fine establishment, so they might not scare other patrons away.

Tuesday night was the least likely night for heavy drinking amongst the Mondstadt population, should there be any night that Mondstadt did not prefer drinking, but it was the most likely time for the Dawn Winery’s master himself to make an appearance behind the bar, and thus an ideal opportunity for certain members of the Knights’ ranks to pay a friendly visit—or rather, bother—Master Diluc until he gripped a wine bottle so tight it threatened to crack.

It was his fault, though, for returning every other Tuesday to be subjected to such nonsense.

“I asked him to describe his ideal woman, of course,” Lisa supplied as the end to her story, sending the knights around her into laughter and groans at the very idea. “Timaeus was so red he could hardly breathe. He looked like a tomato.”

“Oh, poor Timaeus,” Jean lamented, though the other knights hardly shared her sentiments. “You know how flustered he gets, Lisa.”

“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen the Chief Alchemist get flustered,” Kaeya lamented, planting his face in his palm as he leaned heavily on the bar. “Tell me, Albedo, with all the romantic attention you receive, surely someone has managed to make you blush.”

Albedo, barely aware of the conversation at hand but all the same adamant to willfully ignore Kaeya’s salacious suggestion that he was the recipient of any amount of romantic attention, merely furrowed his brow and stared past his cup at something the other knights could not perceive.

“Speaking of romantic attention,” Venti swooned after loudly gulping down the remaining contents of his glass, “a little birdie told me that Donna—”

“Quiet, bard,” Diluc ordered with seething vitriol, but the bard had little regard for Diluc’s discomfort.

“—brought a whole bouquet of flowers to your door the other day. Are you going to send her a thank you? I could write a poem for you to gift her, in exchange for a little off the top of my tab, of course—”

“No, I won’t require your services. And while we’re on the topic of your tab—"

“I don’t believe I am capable of such a thing,” Albedo finally responded, interrupting whatever Diluc had been planning to threaten, much to Venti’s delight but to the confusion of the other knights.

Venti hardly missed a beat, replying, “I’m sure you could write a poem if you tried, Mister Albedo, no one is incapable of making art.”

“No, I am referring to the prior conversation. I don’t believe I am capable of blushing.”

Kaeya’s mouth dropped open as though the alchemist had just shared with him the secrets of life and the universe, but Rosaria maintained a flat aspect, sipping politely at her drink until the commotion from Albedo’s comment settled.

“He’s probably right. I’ve never seen him go red, even in the cold of Dragonspine. If that doesn’t make him flushed, I doubt any foolhardy romantic advances would be able to do it.”

“Though it is true that I bleed when injured, I have yet to study the patterns of my internal blood dispersion beyond its basic course through my heart.”

“Albedo, everyone bleeds when injured. Stop talking like you’re mechanical.”

“Yes, of course,” Albedo agreed with little hesitation before excusing himself from the bar, returning his glass of tap water to the bartender as he wandered off, muttering under his breath about veins and ventricles and all form of scientific babble that the other knights were simply too drunk to process.

“Well, I for one would like to make a bet,” Kaeya announced as soon as the door had clicked shut. “A competition, of sorts. Any takers?”

“I’m in.”

“Venti,” Lisa cooed from beside the bard, startling him as though he hadn’t known she had been there the whole time. “You haven’t even heard the stakes.”

“Yeah, but Kaeya’s fun. And if I can earn a little extra drinking money, then why not?”

“You won’t be drinking until you can pay off your tab,” Diluc reminded. “And knowing Kaeya, it’s a bet in which he’ll have an unfair advantage. He only makes bets he knows he can win.”

“Now, now, Diluc. That’s rather unkind, don’t you think? I don’t have any advantage here, aside from my charm.”

Rosaria scoffed, “Get on with it. What’s the bet?”

“First to find out what makes the alchemist blush gets free drinks every Tuesday night for a month, courtesy of the losers of the bet.”

“I thought we established that he can’t blush.”

“We haven’t established anything. Albedo himself said that he was unsure. So, who’s to say that he doesn’t get flustered at all?”

The group was pensive for a moment, weighing the prospect of putting Albedo in potentially uncomfortable situations when they respectively found him either highly respectable, strange and off-putting, or possibly dangerous given cause. But, one by one, they all silently agreed that the reward was worth the risk, and hummed their approval of Kaeya’s idea.

“I’m in,” Diluc finally spoke aloud, startling the whole bunch.

“Why, Master Diluc, that surprises me. Could it be that you have an unfair advantage here? And tell me this—should you win, however doubtful that outcome may be, do you intend to take advantage of our good nature to buy you free drinks that you won’t even consume?”

“If I win, you’re all giving me a month of peace and quiet. Every Tuesday night, you’re staying home or finding someone else to bother. Go to the Cat’s Tail, I don’t care, just don’t come here.”

“Interesting. I accept the terms of your agreement. Shall we drink to it, then?”

And thus, Albedo was in for the most confusing week of his already strange life.

Jean had hardly been paying attention to the conversation at the bar, and she certainly didn’t have time to be playing into Kaeya’s meddling games, but when the opportunity presented itself, she could hardly pass up the opportunity to save some mora at the Angel’s Share. Albedo was hardly ever at HQ in person, after all.

“Good morning, Albedo,” she greeted, knowing full well that her tone was abnormal as she fought to find a natural way of introducing her theory, but also knowing that Albedo, intelligent beyond reason as he was, was not particularly well-versed in conversation.

“Ah. Good morning, Acting Grand Master. What can I do for you?”

“I was wondering if you could help me find Sucrose. Have you seen her this morning?”

“Sucrose,” Albedo mused aloud as he pressed a hand to his chin in thought. “I have not seen Sucrose for a few days. It is likely she is in her room, studying bones or some other organic matter. If you need to speak with her immediately, I recommend knocking on her door, as it’s unlikely that she will reemerge until the end of the week, at least.”

“Oh. I see. Thank you, Albedo.”

“You’re welcome.”

With that, Albedo continued on his way down the library stairs until he was almost hidden from sight, pulling dusty tomes from ancient corners that hardly anyone but Lisa’s apprentice ever touched. Jean watched as he greeted Lisa's assistant, asking her a question Jean could not discern, and pointing towards a book on the upper shelf.

“Was that your attempt at winning the bet?” Lisa sighed as she emerged from behind her desk. “Oh, dear. You really don’t know much about him at all, do you?”

“Does anyone?”

“That is the question, isn’t it? But I’m far more interested in the little exchange that just occurred. Were you under the impression that Albedo is overly fond of Sucrose?”

“I just wondered. They work so closely together sometimes that I thought perhaps there might be some feelings there.”

“Hmm, no, I don’t believe so. He can be protective of her, the shy little thing, but it’s hardly romantic.”

“Well, what’s your grand plan, then?” Jean asked, defensive of her own tactics even as she realized that she had marvelously failed in plain sight of Lisa. “How do you plan to win the bet?”

“You think I haven’t made anyone blush before?”

“Lisa, please don’t make him uncomfortable. If he resigns, there won’t be anyone qualified to replace him.”

Albedo had thought nothing of the exchange with Jean—it was perfectly reasonable for the Acting Grand Master to inquire about the location of one of her knights—so he had gone about his business in the library and headed straight for the section under the stairs, where he frequently found the most appealing books on the origins of natural species, as well as the librarian’s assistant.

“Good morning, y/n. How are you?” he asked politely, trying not to startle her as she reached up to secure a hefty encyclopedia into its designated spot.

“Good morning, Albedo,” she sighed. As soon as she had settled properly back onto her feet, her hand swept a cloud of dust onto the top of her head which briefly made her cough. “I’m alright, but I think I’ll have to put off my alphabetization of the fiction section until I can finish dusting these shelves.”

“I see. It seems I am alone in my interest of these topics, then?”

“Just about. Sometimes, Cyrus will come in to study for a specific commission, but you’re the only one in the past fifty years who has checked out—” here, she paused, squinting at the title he had returned only a few days prior, “—The Anemo Archon’s Aviary: A Comprehensive Study on Local Wind Patterns, Development of Localized Bird Species, and How Anemo Affects Avian Wildlife.”

“A fascinating read,” he chuckled. “I would recommend it, if you have the time.”

“I’ll put it on my list, but I promised Fischl that I would finish reading that fantasy series she’s been telling me about.”

Just as Albedo was about to agree, perhaps adding some remark about what the prinzessin’s dramatic reaction might be should y/n not heed her decree, the click of Lisa’s heels turned the conversation towards the librarian herself, stepping grandly down the stairs with one hand tracing the banister and the other holding a purple rose.

“Funny seeing you here, Albedo,” Lisa intoned as she swept into the conversation with ease. “Have you come to pester my little assistant again? I’m distraught that you didn’t come to greet me first. How is a lady supposed to feel when a handsome gentleman caller pays her no mind?”

“I apologize, Miss Lisa. In all honesty, I did not realize that you were here.”

“Hmm, you’ve always got your mind on something fascinating, don’t you? I would love to hear all about it, dear, but I do have a question for you, if you don’t care to hear me out.”

“Of course.”

As Albedo turned his attention fully to Lisa in preparation of her inquiries, y/n excused herself with an awkward, pardon me, and returned to replacing all the books on her cart.

Lisa turned over the rose in her hands, allowing Albedo to take it in from all angles as she eased him into light conversation about basic alchemical principles and natural floral phenomena. It wasn’t the conversation that she intended to use to leverage some reaction from him, but her own actions, motivations, and physicality that she hoped might dust his cheeks even the slightest bit red.

“I understand your concern,” Albedo mused, hardly noticing one bit when Lisa began drifting ever closer towards him. “The forests of Sumeru experience dense rain and fog during all seasons, providing the soil with an intense moisture that simply cannot be recreated by any natural climate of Mondstadt. However, many roses of this quality do grow in the temperate hills. If you were to start a garden just outside the Mondstadt gates, I predict that your roses would grow quite well.”

“Interesting.” Lisa swept her hand across the uncovered skin between Albedo’s coat and gloves, skillfully masking the gesture as an accident. “Oh, I’m sorry, sweetie, I didn’t mean to—oh, your skin in marvelously soft, Mister Albedo. How do you manage that in the cold of Dragonspine?”

“Hmm, I am unsure.”

Albedo jotted down a few simple notes for Lisa to take with her— instructions on the best conditions for growing Sumeru roses outside of Sumeru—and pressed onto the next inquiry she had asked of him. She continued running her fingers across the band of skin on his upper arm. When he did not flinch or fluster, she pressed closer.

“Miss Lisa, is there something else I can do for you?”

“Does it make you uncomfortable that I watch while you work?”

“No, not at all. You are free to stay, if you wish. But I may require some measure of concentration.”

“Concentration?” she gasped, eyebrows raised. “You certainly seem like a man with indomitable focus. I wonder, though, what kind of enticing situation might distract a man like you?”

As if to answer her question, he did not respond, fully immersed in his work and entirely shut off to the outside world. Lisa’s ruse went on for at least the next half hour. She would ask a question, often a flirtation disguised as innocent inquiry, and Albedo would respond with genuine interest in her query and not an ounce of heed for her more lascivious intentions.

“How did it go?” Jean asked, more excitable about the whole ordeal than she had meant to be.

“Miserable. The man is made of rock, or steel, or brick. He’s dead to the world.”

“Surely that’s an exaggeration.”

“I tried everything. He had no response for me.”

“Perhaps you’ve lost your charm, Miss Lisa.”

“Don’t push your luck, Acting Grand Master.”

Rosaria wanted to drink, free of charge, and that was the only reason she was doing anything so stupid as trekking through the cold of Dragonspine, up towards Albedo’s lab, Sister Barbara in tow.

“Why would Mister Albedo require my assistance?” Barbara’s teeth chattered as she spoke, and she pulled her arms in close to her chest to bar off the cold. “He has never requested healing before.”

“I don’t know. He just told me to bring you up the mountain with me.”

Rosaria was lying. She was outside of church grounds, so it didn’t really matter how honest she was when Bartobas wasn’t watching. It did, however, give her an uncomfortable chill to know that it was Barbara she was lying to, of all people, the most honest and innocent person ever to stroll under the sunshine of Teyvat. If any of her fan club members were to find out that Rosaria had dragged their precious idol onto a frozen mountain, they would have her head on her own pole.

“Albedo, I brought Barbara,” Rosaria called into the cavern, hoping that if she could be loud and confident enough, both Barbara and Albedo would believe that neither of them were being led astray.

In all reality, Rosaria really hadn’t planned very far ahead. She only knew that when Barbara danced her cute little dance and winked her cute little eye and tilted her cute little head to the side, whomever was on the receiving end of such gestures always went pink in the face.

“Good afternoon, Sister Rosaria, Sister Barbara,” Albedo greeted with a slight pitch of his brow. “If you required my assistance, I could have easily made the journey down to Mondstadt proper. I hope you have not suffered from the cold. Before you return home, please allow me to provide you with a heating potion.”

“No need, Albedo. We won’t be here long.”

“Mister Albedo, Sister Rosaria told me that you need healing,” Barbara announced before Rosaria could fully take control of the situation. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I appear to be alright. Ah—I suppose you are referring to my arm?” The alchemist lifted his arm to reveal a loosely-tied bandage around his forearm that was beginning to show a patch of crimson bleeding through the white material. “I must have forgotten. I… don’t even remember how this came to be. How did you know?”

“I heard about it.”

“You heard about it? I see. You must have run into y/n. I informed her that I could tend to the wound myself, but it would not surprise me to hear that she would turn to Sister Barbara for help. She was quite worried about the whole ordeal.”

Rosaria quietly gave thanks to Lord Bortibos for his good graces. She didn’t even know who y/n was, but Barbara seemed to recognize the name, nodding as she cheerily made her way over to Albedo to take a look at his arm.

Barbara did her cute little dance, and she sang her cute little song, and she winked her cute little eye, but Albedo’s face remained still as a statue and pale as the snow outside the cavern throughout the entire experience. Rosaria at least felt comforted, somewhat, that if Barbara couldn’t get him to blush, surely no one else would discern any other way to do it. She had exhausted every possible avenue, in her mind, and now, it was time to return to more important business.

Amber and Eula tag-teamed the challenge, but their plot failed as soon as it had started. Amber had laid out their game plan as a subtle, masterful appeal to Albedo’s emotion, but Eula Lawrence was not subtle.

“Albedo. Have you ever cried?”

“I—hmm. Perhaps as a child, Captain Eula. Is there any particular reason you ask?”

“Amber wanted to know.”

“No, I didn’t!” Amber shouted to clear her name. She had wanted to know the answer to that strange and invasive question, but she hadn’t wanted Eula to bring it up so brazenly. “What Eula means is that—”

“What was it that made you cry as a child? Your parents? A childhood bully? If you need vengeance to be extracted—”

“Eula means that we were interested in your upbringing. We didn’t mean to pry, Mister Albedo,” Amber physically stepped in between the two before Eula could threaten any figures from Albedo’s past. “We just don’t know much about you.”

“Ah, I see. There is not much to know.”

“Understandable. Have a nice day, Mister Albedo!”

Amber tugged Eula away by the hand, rattling off all sorts of explanations as to why Eula’s questions had been inappropriate, but Eula saw no real merit to such accusations. If Amber had a question to ask, she should ask, not beat around the bush.

Venti knew that he had the upper hand, because who could possibly resist a love ballad played by the dutiful and skilled hands of the Anemo Archon himself? If Lord Barbatos could not woo the alchemist with his dulcet tones and witty lyricism, then surely nothing else could be done.

“Excuse me, dear y/n, but have you seen Albedo today? I heard that he’s in town, and I’d like to pay him a visit.”

Y/n finished placing the return date card in the back of a freshly returned novel, complete with slight electro elemental traces from Lisa’s famous late fee policy, and eyed Venti up and down, taking in the way the bard’s fingers plucked the air just above the strings of his lyre as if practicing.

“Have you written him a song?” y/n asked, buying time. She had seen Albedo, not five minutes prior, and he had paused his deep and entrancing train of thought to greet her, but she worried that any other distraction would simply bounce off of him like Jean repelling a pyro slime. Even Venti’s greatest masterpiece would go unheard with Albedo in that state.

“I have written a song, and I have the feeling he’ll like it, but I need to try it out first. Have you seen him?”

“Venti, Albedo’s in kind of a mood today.” She winced at the way his countenance dropped entirely at the idea. “I don’t mean that he’s upset or anything. He’s just got his mind on something important, so it might not be the best day for a performance. I’m sorry, Venti, I’m sure he’d love to hear it on any other day.”

“Oh. Well, that’s alright, y/n, thank you for—”

“Y/n, I’ve come across something interesting, and I wonder if you might take a look at it,” Albedo announced as he took great strides down the hallway towards y/n. “The specimen you helped me collect from Starsnatch Cliff has successfully adapted to synthetic photosynthesis. The primary difference to the naked eye seems to be an odd discoloration of the inner petals, but I would appreciate a second opinion, as well as a second set of hands, so that I might extract—oh, hello, Venti. I did not see you there.”

“Well, well, if it isn’t the man of the hour!” Venti announced. He seemed to lift right off of the ground as he bounded towards Albedo with his lyre held aloft, giving a playful strum to the strings. “I was just looking for you, Mister Albedo! Would you be interested in hearing a song that I wrote?”

“Venti, I must apologize, but I am exceedingly busy with an experiment, and I fear—”

“Nonsense! You should always take some time to rest, have a break, enjoy some local entertainment. Come now, sit down. Y/n can listen too, if she’d like.”

Albedo scratched across his forehead with a weary hand before sighing, deciding that humoring the bard would be far easier than prolonging the conversation. His eyes traveled briefly to y/n, who stood awkwardly but graciously smiling between the two. She, at least, seemed interested to hear what Venti had to show for himself, so it couldn’t hurt to rest his feet for a moment, for y/n's sake.

When the song began, Albedo was not overly concerned with the melody or the lyrics or the performance at all, but the more he tuned his ears to really listen to it, the more bemused he became. A love song, of all things, in the middle of the afternoon, in the middle of Knights HQ, in the middle of an experiment he was quite keen to finish. Why had Venti been so enthused about performing this for him right then and there?

The lyrics were well written, if not a bit esoteric to a man quite literally made from chalk, and he could appreciate the artistry of it. It didn’t hold his interest quite as much, however, as y/n, who, by the third or fourth chorus, had picked up the lively tune and began humming it under her breath as she swayed gently in her seat.

“So, how was it?” Venti exclaimed.

“It was pleasant.”

“Y/n, you seemed to enjoy it.”

“I did, thank you, Venti.”

“Well, I’m pleased to hear that you both enjoyed my latest masterpiece. You know, when I wrote it, I—”

Venti’s explanation was cut off when he realized that Albedo had risen to his feet, picking up right where he left off mid-ramble. As he watched the two disappear down the hallway, Venti couldn’t help but think that he had somehow ended up on the right path, just with the wrong motivation and at the wrong time.

If Venti had been close, Kaeya was near right on the mark, if not slightly to the left of a bullseye. He was a master of gathering information, an expert in the field of loosening inhibitions and coaxing secrets from anyone from gossiping servants to high-ranking Fatui officers.

The sweet little librarian’s assistant would be no challenge for him, or so he thought.

“Oh, come now, y/n,” he crooned, leaning conspiratorially across the counter to peer up at her. “Everyone has a weakness. Don’t tell me that Albedo is so composed all the time.”

“A weakness?” she pondered aloud, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation but more uncomfortable with the idea of confronting Kaeya about it. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“No? Don’t you have a weakness, y/n?”

“Do you mean physically, or…? I suppose I’m not very good at using a claymore. I can’t seem to get used to the weight distribution.”

“You’re lucky you’re adorable, y/n. I’m talking about an emotional weakness. What flusters our dear chief alchemist, hmm? What makes him blush?”

“Blush?”

“Yes, blush. Just like you’re doing right now.”

She lifted a hand to her cheek as if to physically try to wipe the red off of her face before Kaeya could make any more untoward comments about it, but he only pressed onward, willfully ignoring her own flustered behavior.

“Why do you ask?” she elected to sidestep his original question with one of her own.

“I’m merely curious. And you two are friends, correct?”

“Um… yes, we are. Captain Kaeya, if you would like to know more about Albedo, I doubt he would be upset if you asked him yourself. He’s not particularly shy, he’s just not… talkative, I suppose.”

“Right,” Kaeya muttered. He hadn’t anticipated that y/n would be straightforward, if not a little coy, about the matter, though he should have guessed. Anyone who was as close to the chief alchemist as she would have to have some similarities in personality. Kaeya couldn’t imagine Albedo befriending anyone garrulous or grandiloquent.

“Is there something else I can help you with?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact. I have a few more questions about Mister Albedo. Nothing too personal of course, just some basic information, if you happen to know the answers.”

“I can try, but again, I’m sure Albedo wouldn’t mind if you asked him yourself.”

“And what if I’m planning some sort of surprise?” Kaeya intoned. Y/n’s brow furrowed at the thought, but Kaeya swooped in to reassure her before she backed out. “Nothing too extreme, of course. A private gift, perhaps. He helped me with a problem I had recently, and I would like to thank him properly. Does he have a favorite color, perhaps?”

Reasonably, Kaeya could do nothing with that shallow information, but if he intended to ask anything beyond surface-level attributes, he was obviously going to have to ease y/n into it with softball questions that wouldn’t raise her hackles.

“He does like blue—that kind of deep blue that’s on his shirt. I wouldn’t say that he necessarily has a favorite, but he does tend to favor colors that aren’t garish.”

“I see, I see. A favorite flower?”

“Cecilias,” y/n answered easily, with a brief smile that Kaeya might have missed had he not been watching her closely. Even though she turned from him to stamp a return date, he could read her honest expression plain as day. “There’s a species of large flower that grows in Sumeru, primarily in open, grassy areas, that he always mentions he would like to see someday, but I wouldn’t say that it’s his favorite. He’s very fond of Cecilias.”

“Interesting. So you two are quite close, then?”

The blush returned to her face, and she cleared her throat before she spoke, “Yes, we’re… close. Albedo is—he’s a good friend of mine. Do you have any other questions?”

“Just a few more, if you would humor me.”

“Of course, Captain Kaeya.”

“Since you work in the library, I’m sure you know—what genre of book does Albedo prefer?”

“Non-fiction, usually.”

“Usually?”

“Almost always some scientific study for an experiment he’s working on. I’ve managed to talk him into reading a few adventure novels, though, and he seemed to enjoy them well enough.”

“Does he read romance novels?”

“No, that’s not something he’s ever expressed interest in.”

“He’s not a romantic?”

She blanched, an interesting reaction, but one he didn’t pay near enough mind to. Y/n appeared to be skirting some issue—she had been honest and gracious in playing along with Kaeya’s questioning, but she shifted her gaze uncomfortably from time to time as if desperate to find an out from certain topics.

She’s shy, he thought to himself as he watched her fingers busy themselves with the fraying edge of a hardback novel. And I am being awfully forward, especially to someone who spends more time around books than people.

“He’s—” she began, then stopped abruptly, trying to rephrase her thoughts, “he’s not typically interested in romance, I suppose. That’s not to say that he’s incapable of… or uninterested in… um, do you have a different question?”

“You think he would be interested in romance, given the right circumstance?”

“Yes, I suppose. That makes sense.”

“Yes. Yes, I suppose it does. Well, thank you for your time, Miss y/n. I apologize for taking up your afternoon with my silly questions.”

“Oh, that’s alright, Captain Kaeya. If you need more help finding a nice gift for Albedo, I’d be happy to help.”

“Thank you, y/n.”

“You thought that he was romantically interested in Sucrose?” Eula scoffed before downing another full glass of something so strong that Jean could smell it several seats down.

“Don’t tell me that your approach was any better, Captain Eula.”

The knights and friends, defeated after a week of attempts at catching the chief alchemist off guard in hopes to catch him blushing, had nearly decided that the man was incapable of going red at all.

“Maybe we should tell him that he can’t blush,” Amber suggested. “He said himself that he wasn’t sure if he was capable of it. I bet he would like to know the answer.”

“But then we would be giving away the game,” Kaeya retorted. “And we need a full mission report before deciding that he’s a lost cause. Lisa, how did you fare?”

“No better than Jean, unfortunately. I gave him just about everything I could without being indecent. He hardly noticed I was there.”

“Rosaria?”

“I called in Barbara. Nothing.”

“Amber?”

“Well, I was going to try something simple, but Eula was a bit too forward about it. We got no results at all from it.”

“Venti?”

“I played him my song.”

“And?”

“He liked it, of course. But he didn’t blush.”

“Well, then, that leaves me, I suppose,” Kaeya sighed. He had saved himself for last, despite having nothing to show for himself. His conversation with y/n had been only slightly illuminating, but nothing he had attempted during his subsequent conversation with Albedo had produced results, and he was ashamed to tell the group as much. “I suppose none of us are getting free drinks, then. A shame, really. I was interested to see the results almost as much as I wanted free liquor.”

“You’re forgetting someone,” Diluc suddenly announced as he stepped lively into the room, taking his place behind the bar with a chipper attitude that was unbecoming of him. The entire group was baffled at his words, and at the smile that graced his usually stern features.

“Oh, Master Diluc, don’t tell me that you’re the one who has actually been successful? Turning someone’s face red with pyro will get you disqualified, you know,” Kaeya intoned, hoping to slightly infuriate the man but only lifting his countenance even more.

“I have proof, and as soon as I show you, I will have an entire month of peace and quiet. If I see even one of you lurking around my tavern on a Tuesday night, I will personally ensure that you never see the inside of this establishment ever again.”

“We all agreed to it, Diluc,” Lisa bargained, leaning over the counter as if Diluc’s proof were hiding behind the bar, just out of sight. “Go ahead and show us, dear, don’t leave us hanging like this.”

“Charles?” Diluc asked.

Charles nodded firmly, “They’re just outside.”

“Good.”

With this, Diluc wordlessly stepped towards the back door, pressing a gloved finger to his mouth to signal that the rest of the group should be quiet. He poised his hand over the doorknob for several agonizing seconds until suddenly and forcefully, he flung the door open, sending the couple on the other side flying apart.

“Barbatos preserve me,” Venti muttered drunkenly, the only one of the group who could speak at the moment.

The sight was startling, but after the initial shock had faded, it became increasingly obvious to all of them precisely how oblivious they all had been in their research. It should have been obvious. There was a common denominator to nearly every respective conversation they had conducted, and it was not a thing or a topic or an action, but a person.

Albedo was behind the door, his face flushed all the way to the tips of his ears as he and y/n sheepishly parted. What they had been doing before the door opened had gone unseen by the bar’s patrons, but they could wager a strong guess based on the way y/n was quick to cover her lips with her hand.

“Oh, my—” Kaeya began. “Well, this is interesting. Why didn’t you two tell us about your little arrangement? I’m sure we all would be quite happy for you.”

“You did not ask,” Albedo replied simply. By the time he stepped in properly through the door, his face had returned to its normal color, though y/n was still the color of an unripe sunsettia.

“And to think, we were all going about it the wrong way.”

“Going about what?”

“These idiots made a bet,” Diluc said, straightforward and stern as he moved towards the front door, preparing to physically toss the knights out by their collars. “And they’ve all lost, so now it’s time to leave. Y/n and Albedo, of course, are free to stay.”

“Oh. Thank you, Diluc,” y/n muttered, half lost in thought. “Wait, is that why everyone was acting like that this past week? You were all trying to get Albedo to… to do what? What were you trying to do?”

Albedo was quick to respond, having connected the dots rather easily, “I see. This is because of our conversation last week, yes? You were performing an experiment to see if I am capable of blushing. And, judging by your expressions, you seem to have gotten a satisfactory answer.”

“Yes,” Diluc interjected. “Goodbye.”

With this, the knights were summarily kicked out of the tavern for the next month, and Diluc was rewarded handsomely with his peace and quiet, for which he was happy to provide the happy couple with a set of drinks, on the house. He did feel a bit uncomfortable, after all, that he had exposed their relationship for the explicit purpose of clearing out his bar.

“Did they make you uncomfortable, y/n?” Albedo asked her quietly after Diluc had disappeared into the back to refresh his ingredients. “If I had known that they might confront you for an answer, I would have asked them to refrain.”

“I’m alright, Bedo. I just hope they didn’t make you uncomfortable, trying to make you blush like that.”

“No, I hardly noticed. I do commend their dedication to their experiment, however. I hope their results were satisfactory.”

“Hmm, I guess so. But if they wanted to know if you’re capable of blushing, they could have just asked me outright. I’ve seen you blush plenty of times.”

“Have you really?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Fascinating. When does this happen?”

“Well—different times, I guess, but… most of the time, when I kiss you, you turn red.”

“I would like a demonstration, if you don’t mind.”

She was happy to provide.

#albedo x reader #albedo imagine #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagine #if you read this far i love you #also i love making up fake book names #it was call of the ocean void and now the anemo archons aviary #i just love coming up with fake book titles what does that say about me

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