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princeandreis · 2 years

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one thing that i think sets wilbur soot apart from a lot of other mcyts is he’s extremely mature in the way he goes about content creation. not in terms of the content itself, but in the way he goes about his career and how he interacts with other creators. he’s not close with many of them, but have you ever heard of wilbur soot having earnest beef with somebody online? nope, you haven’t, because he’s bigger than that.

there are so many petty squabbles and controversies that crop up online, and wilbur is always notably silent. that speaks volumes about his priorities. he seems to understand that jumping into those arguments serves 0 purpose and only fuels things further. (he’s also probably aware that joining in on controversy of any kind tarnishes his brand, so it’s a smart move from a purely PR standpoint.)

still, when things get really ugly and involve his friends, he encourages his community to show kindness above all else. take, for example, dream’s sexuality controversy on twitter in april. wilbur didn’t address it explicitly, but he went live (for a regular stream) perhaps a day or two after everything exploded and spoke about how important it is to be kind to other CCs (clip here). maybe i’m showing my bias because i’m primarily a dream team fan at heart, but it meant so much to hear someone who ordinarily is silent during controversy speak up in defense of his friend.

that’s another thing: wilbur and dream don’t even seem to be close friends, and wil still spoke in strong defense of him, in the name of decency and kindness. this wasn’t one of wilbur’s closest pals who was being attacked, but someone who’s a fellow content creator and friend. wilbur and dream have worked together many times and seem to get along well, and clearly there is a high degree of mutual respect between them. wilbur didn’t have to address the controversy, but he saw his friend’s name being dragged through the mud; so he asked his own audience to treat dream (without using his name) with respect. just as wilbur does. and that’s something he does with every CC he interacts with.

it’s sadly uncommon to see a mcyt who is so well-liked across the board, and who gets along with everyone he meets. if you ask me, it comes from wilbur’s experience in the industry. he’s been doing youtube and streaming for many years at this point and in many different circles, like soothouse, smplive, smpearth, the dream smp, etc. he’s educated in his field, and he’s now also working in music— i can tell you from personal experience that musicians who expect to go anywhere with their career have to be able to work with anyone, even the most difficult and insufferable kinds of people. you truly can’t expect to succeed in any creative field if you can’t adapt to your environment and work well with others. (wil is also just a naturally charismatic and funny guy, so he sets others at ease right away. not everyone has that gift!)

anyway, i just think it’s so neat to see a creator who does exactly the kind of content he wants (be it the most batshit-insane thing you’ve ever seen), succeeds at it, and also is held and holds others in high regard. it’s a testament to his passion for his work, as well as his love for others. i’m sure there are mcyts wil has worked with that he might personally dislike, but you’d never know because he treats everyone around him with the same kindness, decency, and authenticity that he does his closest friends. i love wilbur soot the end

#wilbur soot #mcyt #more people should approach their careers the way he does (through a slight veil of mystery but also genuine love and kindness)#also theres this clip of him preventing tommy from shaking ass onstage at an event and u can just See his gears turning #like yes tommy is silly and excitable and sometimes crude and that’s his reputation but it didn’t fit the moment and wilbur saw that #it’s also one thing to be silly and excitable and crude online and it’s another to shake your ass onstage at a convention #like that’s a more personal display and a little undignified even for tommy so wil stepped in like a big brother should #hes so protective in a good way and it makes me :)#wilbur just has a lot of wisdom in everything he does and i truly admire that about him #analysis

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wlw-lovestruck-fiction · 3 years

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PROMPT: Followup to How do you think Euryale would court the MC? #knifewifesquad

WARNINGS: Somewhat OOC

characters Mentions of blood Crimes against fashion

Unhealthy/Predatory Behaviors

Reference to Greek Mythology

Potential Spoilers for Routes

Written by @evoedbd

*****************************************************************

Alisha’s answer was gorgeous. There was no other word that summed up everything that ran through her mind. Cute, delicate, fiery, marblesque… all fell under that uniquely gorgeous category. In a manner beyond human or Godly monster, or any Alisha had seen in her brief life.

The first thing to captivate her was unimaginably expressive eyes. Gems the colour of peach, dancing a fine line between pink and brown. Pale and captivating. Shock blew them wide, even as a weariness hardened them, and something void of sanity swum in their pale depths. There was something innocent about them, how large and clear they were perhaps, topped by a petite brow that seemed to carry the weight of the world and pale hair a shade between winter sunshine and summer dried grass. Hair with a short cut, wispy fringe and hanging in girlish pigtails tucked between delicate little ears… with little earrings shaped like a butcher’s knife from a murder scene, complete with photo realistic colour decal. The Alice in wonderland went batshit crazy theme continued with a lavender summers dress, ending just above delicate knees, leaving little black shoes suited to a child on display. Shoes bathed in blood; little bows knocked askew.

“Who are you?” The woman demanded; voice shrill. Soft looking lips, only half coated with a dappling of peach lipstick, peeled back from teeth. Sharp teeth. Teeth with the top canines extended almost like fangs, though evidently within the human vein of acceptable. An adorable, proud yet dainty nose turned upwards, thin nostrils flaring as if scenting the air for the next kill. So, it was becoming apparently clear Alice should never have left wonderland… but even on the rampage, her unique appearance still fell in gorgeous. Godly even. As if carved from the finest marble, then drizzled with a faint layer of gold so she gleamed in the light.

“That was a stupid question. I know who you are. What the hell were you thinking? Just barging in here like that! I could have turned you into… well, a museum piece! Do you know how many museum pieces my sisters have donated?”

Something about the way she spoke of museum pieces made Alisha feel entirely uneasy. As if these pieces could feel… but that would mean… oh. Oh no. Please no.

Alisha went to open her mouth, went to speak, only for an utterly confused squeak to escape. Enough to make her want to facepalm. She was usually calm and rational, heck she faced down Hercules on the daily, but some insane chick had her squeaking. How was that even a thing? Well, she had to be real. She had a real-life Godly Monster, someone so potent she had etched her name in history, in her living room. So, she had it down to one out of three to guess from, but what would happen if she got it wrong? She had to think carefully, try to piece everything together on the fly. A beauty carved of stone, who spoke of statues as if they were living beings, with sharpened teeth? A woman who had an unhealthy obsession with knives and inflicting pain on demigods… or anything really… anybody? Why was Alisha still looking into her eyes?

“I’m sorry, I don’t know who you a- you’re hurt.” She’d started carefully, tilting her gaze cautiously to avoid looking as intimidated as she was, only to notice the black patch against the woman’s ribcage. No matter who, no matter what she was, she was hurt. She was bleeding all over her own shoes. Over Alisha’s furniture. And she was kind of sweet, even with the psychotic side. This was a woman who’d left helpful messages and items to support Alisha through some tough times. It made sense now why the acts were humanly inappropriate. Could Alisha really hold cultural differences against an injured woman?

“No I’m not!” The woman’s snappiness made Alisha’s heart jump. Her insides lurched, every droplet of blood trying to relocate an inch to the left. Yet, somehow, she didn’t move a muscle. The HERA agent simply stood her ground, extending her hand as she pointed to the dark patch against the lavender.

“What’s that then?” Alisha demanded, watching the other woman lower her gaze. Peach eyes fixed on the wound for a split second, lips pursing in clear irritation. Something about it had Alisha thinking the irritation was more for the dress than the cut.

“It’s a flesh wound.”

… apparently Alisha was right.

“That’s still hurt!” Alisha finally snapped, her exasperation bursting through her human instinct to fear the godly.

“Are you calling me weak?” The woman’s sharp demand was accompanied by an earthquake worthy shift in her attitude. The peach in her eyes shrunk, the band of colour narrowing down to pinpoints even as her eyes blew wide. A crazed monster, matched by the rows of unnaturally sharp teeth, which she had bared in a wide mouthed snarl. Something Alisha couldn’t help but smile at. Granted, she probably should have been revaluating her strategy given there was also a giant leopard seal snarling from her couch, with teeth for days and murder in its lavender eyes, embraced by a halo of lavender that betrayed it was definitely this woman’s aura… but, of course, Alisha didn’t. The longer she stared at the flex of aura, for every breath of salt and brine she inhaled, she could feel an answering tide within her. It swelled in her chest, overcoming her entire being, washing away all possibility and competition until it was the only thing that could escape her.

“Euryale.” The name tasted so right. How a word could have taste, Alisha couldn’t begin to explain. Yet, the way it rolled across her tongue, how it made her lips caress the syllables… it was the tide, an ebb and flow, the rolling of waves in her mouth to which Alisha was helpless to resist. The ancient name held such wonder, such elegance, something delicate and something fierce. Of course this was Euryale. How could Alisha have ever thought otherwise? She lacked the force of Stheno, nor held the renowned grace of Medusa. Euryale was potent emotion. The myths of her cries crumbling stone played in the back of Alisha’s mind, for if she were stone, she truly doubted she could handle anguish in such a raw form. Not if Euryale expressed it like she expressed her irritation.

“You’re not weak, at all, but you are hurt. I don’t understand any of what is going on, why you’ve been leaving me messages, or why you’re hurt, but you are hurt. I need to help you. I’m not about to turn you over to H.E.R.A. If you’d wanted to hurt me, you wouldn’t have sent me all those nice things. You’d have already done it. For now, that’s enough for me to trust you. Can you now trust me?” Alisha’s words were spoken gently, as one might speak to a nervy colt. She could only watch as peach reclaimed white, swelling until there was barely white left. Those gorgeous eyes glistened, oceans beginning to trickle from them before everything withdrew. Then, the scent was only a memory. The seal as tangible as a dream one couldn’t quite remember after waking.

“You don’t know… was my intent not clear?” The Gorgon questioned, lower lip trembling as she pouted. Alisha could only shake her head.

“Charybdis and Prime told me that lines of courtship were still done in human society! They even had me spend hours memorising hundreds of atrocious lines that I might woo you properly! They said romantic notes held universal intent!” Euryale went from mopey to utterly infuriated within a blink, stamping her little black flats into the pool of blood and salt water. Alisha could only blink.

“You were… you were attempting to hit on me?”

“I spent days researching the languages of the finest poets under their guidance, only for you not to understand their complexity?” The Gorgon continued. Alisa could only bite her lip, struggling not to laugh.

“You… googled pickup lines?”

Euryale’s cheeks flushed.

“Prime told me that was how you wooed in this era!” Euryale whined, crossing her arms defensively across her chest. With every frustrated huff, her murderous little earrings jingled, making Alisha’s struggle to keep her composure that much harder.

“And stabbed them into my door? For weeks…”

“I read delivery should be given personal flare! Stheno said I should be direct!”

Well… she was direct alright.

“By stabbing my door… for weeks…” Alisha reiterated, voice lacking emotion. Aphrodite was going to have a field day with this. May was probably already planning friendfictons… Alisha could only facepalm.

“I had to research your patterns for months to establish an appropriate time schedule-”

“Are you confessing to stalking me? For months?” Alisha had to cut in. So, that explained some things, probably should have freaked her out too… but could she completely fault this adorable creature? Ok, so it was unquestionably out of line, something that Alisha would have to have some strong words with Euryale about, and Euryale was a poster child for sweet but psycho… but it was somehow charming too. Euryale looked very much like a teenager grumbling about a crush. All the social floundering, the sincere effort put into it. So, things were very lost in translation, but… it was kind of endearing watching an ancient godly monster try to act like a twenty-year-old.

“I was observing! I had to perfect the wedding gifts.”

“Wedding…?”

“The exchange of blades? A proposal? You accepted them… you didn’t know their meaning, did you?”

Again, Alisha could only shake her head. No. Nope. Absolutely no clue.

What followed was a tirade of ancient Greek, spoken so vehemently it could be nothing but the most enthusiastic of cussing fits. It was accompanied by little stamps and huffs, so reminiscent of a toddler throwing a tantrum that Alisha was caught between cooing at the more twee aspects of the scenario or blushing at the few phrases she could roughly understand. She did neither. Before she could decide, Euryale’s foot came down that bit too hard in her previous mess, splattering little pink droplets across the floor. Her shoe slid through the puddle, sending the Gorgon sprawling onto the couch with the grace of a beached whale, and a terrified yelp that cut Alisha to the core. Before Euryale could stop it, a pitiful whine escaped her, degrading Alisha’s mind to one goal.

Comfort.

She sprang into action, reaching to press her hands tightly to the wound even as she broke into babbling.

“Hey, hey, hey! I am sure you’re really lovely, and would make a wonderful, erm, soulmate. But I haven’t really gotten to know you, and I really appreciate the knives, but I’m not ready for marriage… maybe we could start with something simple? Like coffee?” It was after her verbal outpouring that Alisha realised this was the first time she was touching Euryale. Months of gifts and messages had finally led to this. It should have been ground-breaking; Alisha had expected the moment to erode the mountains. Expected her heart to seize in her chest… but everything was still. The heat of blood and comfortable curve of Euryale’s body didn’t leave her brain melted. Didn’t feel monumental the way she’d expected. It was natural, just like the act of taking breath, as if she’d been born to do precisely this.

“Coffee?” The hopeful yet confused way Euryale muttered that had Alisha practically melting. How was this twee little psychopath so adorable?

“Yep. Maybe some dinners, or some movies? Oh, do you have a phone?”

“A… phone?”

“So we can call and text. I adore the gifts, but I can’t afford to keep replacing the door, not to mention if someone breaks in, I’m only human.”

“You’re Hera.” The Gorgon whispered, looking into Alisha’s eyes. Again, the peach had swallowed the white, brimming with such profound sorrow that Alisha couldn’t resist leaning closer to press her lips to the Gorgon’s forehead.

“I’m still only human… so, coffee?”

“Coffee.” Euryale agreed, lips pulling into a timid smile. Before either woman could process more, The Gorgon flinched, a hiss escaping between her teeth.

“And bandages?” Alisha suggested, earning some form of snort from Euryale to accompany the flush to her cheeks and the growing little smile.

“Bandages are good.”

In hindsight, Alisha probably should have asked what had happened, but she was far too lost in that gorgeous smile, in that beautiful moment of vulnerability, to do anything more than come to two very startling conclusions.

One - she was the biggest sapphic disaster to ever walk the earth.

Two - If Euyrale didn’t stop being so endearing, Alisha was absolutely fucked.

#answered #anonymous #lovestruck #women of lovestruck #eurayle #afk eurayle #eurayle x mc #astoria fates kiss #fluff #fluffy #scatterday

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mydrug-is-dragonage · 3 years

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Veda Adaar, Life after Bull

Victory. Triumph. Glory. Pride. What we usually feel when we win a battle. The quiet grief of cutting down lives, regardless of how worthy they are of death, but the warm joy, knowing we saved someone or something or everyone or everything from a grand or small evil.

Victory. We stood on the balcony, crowded together, together again for the first time in years. Thom and Sera, Divine Victoria’s watchful eyes, Cassandra and Varric’s constant disdainful flirting, Cole and Maryden’s quiet affection, Dorian and Vivienne both wine drunk trading insults, the quiet acknowledgement of a friendship that grew against both of their wills. Josephine and Cullen arguing, treating the terrace like battlements, more performative as they both know the end is closer than the beginning. Solas, our own personal god, long-gone into the eluvian. We’re all here, we’re all together. All of us, but Bull.

Triumph. The weeks have passed, a quick and effective rebuke from the Arishok, King Alistair and Empress Celene accept it quietly, no time for war with another battle floating above us in the air. Back at Skyhold, a skeleton crew, these days just Harding and me spend our time in the battle room, staring at maps; Leliana’s other protégés are always off on missions. Sera pops by every now and then to see Dagna with bees and trinkets and little things to remind me that she’s never really gone. The best day, or the worst depending on the audience, Sera and Dagna came up to my room, giggling, presented me with a crossbow for where my arm ought to be. “Widdle’s a wizard, yeah! You’ll be on rooftops sticking it to people too big for their breeches in no time!” I thanked them, and sent them away. This is love, at least for Sera. Her love is violence and showy maneuvers, dancing with both hands and feet shaking about.

Glory. Josephine writes me letters, telling me to eat, to ask Cullen to write back. After a few months, she finally pens, “I know I am no longer your formal ambassador, but as your informal friend I find it painful to admit what has been sung in the inns and halls. Bards have taken your loss and turned it into song. Unlike what Maryden had composed, these are unfortunately mocking in nature. People have taken the final act and written it as the whole narrative, my lady. A play premiered in Val Royeux putting you at the center of the conflict, as the one who allowed it to happen. If you desire, I can put an end to this. Divine Victoria recommended assassins, but I’ve temporarily dispelled her more primal desires. Likewise, Mr. Arainai also reached out, grateful for the assistance you had given him evading the Crows. I similarly told him no. Above all, regardless of what action we take, I want you to know I am sorry. You’ve lost much, suffered more than so many of us. I’m sorry, Veda. I love you.” It wasn’t unexpected, bards sing, playwrights write. They tell the tales people want to hear. Immortalizing betrayal has always turned them into legends.

Pride. A cold morning, one with little to be done, Charter and Rector off in Nevarra, the crows neither coming or going, Lace came into my room, “Sorry to bother you, V, we’ve got a vistor.”

“Avoidable?” I ask.

“What an impossibly rude question, darling.” I looked up from my desk and saw her horns pointing from the stairway.

“Oh, Vivienne, I wasn’t expecting you,” I said. I don’t stop the smile on my face. For all our differences, we’d become like sisters. On her best days, she’d fawn over me like a mother.

“That’s Grand Enchanter now, My Lady Inquisitor.”

“I’ll leave you to it,” Lace said, excusing herself. I waited to hear the door close, then the other. Vivienne stood, graceful and stoic as ever. A few more moments of silence, then she broke into a smile. She took off her hat, placed it on the sofa, and walked towards me, arms splayed.

“Oh, my dear, how I’ve missed you!” I stood up, robes draping and hiding me.

I leaned into her hug, resting my head on hers. “Grand Enchanter, really Viv?”

“One must keep appearances, darling. Besides, imagine if Bull heard you call me…” She heard it as it left her mouth. “Oh, my sweet, I’m so sorry. While we should have anticipated his betrayal, I know the loss must weigh on you heavily.” She nestled further into my chest. I breathed out, for a moment just Veda, not the Inquisitor, not the betrayed lover, not the important person forced upon me. I was mortal, Vashoth, tall and strong and being hugged by someone who loved me enough to allow me to be small and weak. We settled onto the couch. I pulled my legs in front of me

“You know better than anyone. I remember, I was there when you lost Bastien.”

“And I was there when you lost the Iron Bull,” she sighed. “We are sisters in grief, as well as sisters in victory. We’re sisters in success, although your’s has had its struggles as of late. I assume the Divine told you of the bards?”

“Josephine.”

“The Nightingale sending a gentler songbird. Wise.”

“I assumed it would happen. Charter brought back the lyrics and playbook from what she considered the more consumable tales,” I said.

“They’re vile, darling. I offered the services of the Circle. The Divine declined. I assumed she had sent assassins.”

“No, I turned down the offers.”

“You’re losing political capital, my dear. If you want to return to the world, recruit who you need to defeat Solas, you’ll need allies. New allies, old allies. It will require quite the force and connections. You know you have the Circle, as much as we can politically sacrifice in this turbulent time,” she said.

“It isn’t the first thing on my mind, at the moment,” I said.

“And why not darling? If you choose to remain in obscurity at some point it will no longer be a choice.”

It’s spring, it is the last night at Skyhold before we leave for the Exalted Council. Cullen and Josephine have been up bickering most the evening, finally put to rest. I settle into my room, sitting at my desk, twiddling my pen. My bag is packed, the horses are ready. The door creaks open. I don’t look up, I can smell him from here. Even after a bath he smells like home, smoky and warm. “Hey, Kadan.”

“Hey,” I say, “they finished?”

“Well, Cullen is now arguing with Cabot which gave me enough time to get the serving girls to feed Josephine. She wanted to get back to bickering, but I asked her if the itinerary had been checked. So I think they’re fine for now.”

“They’re just worried about tomorrow, the coming weeks. It’s normal,” I say,

“You’re the one who grew up with humans. They worry too much, but it makes them easy to work with. Like clay.” I smile and look back down at my papers. “Enough work, Kadan. You can’t do anything more today.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Are you going to make me?” I smirk.

“Oh, is this what we’re doing?”

“Oh you didn’t know?” I laugh. “I thought you knew it all, everything I needed, Ben-Hassrath training, remember?” He smiles and walks towards me, I slide back in my seat and he scoops me up.

In bed, his heart pumps slow and heavy in his chest. I trace his body with my hands, his arm around me. Our horns rub against each other, small grooves from the years of lying here together. “Better?” He asks.

“What do you think?”

“I know. I just want to know if you know.” I lean up and kiss him.

“Yes, better.” He smells better when he’s sweaty. Something about those early days, seeing him tear through crowds, watching his arms lift and push those heavy swords and axes. Long before, when the Chargers still existed, when he wasn’t just my man, but their man.

“What’s wrong?” He asks.

“I’m sorry, you know,” I say. For a moment, he’s silent, sitting in the grief.

“You made the right choice. You made the only choice. You led like a Qunari.”

“It shouldn’t have been my choice. I should have let you decide,” I say.

“No,” He says, clipped. “You are the Inquisitor. It was your decision, to keep the alliance or lose it. You made history. You stopped a batshit insane darkspawn from destroying the world.”

“I could have stopped him anyway,” I say.

“We don’t know that. The Tamassrans used to say, ‘When there are no right choices, the right decision is the one you make and the one you live with.’” I nestle into his chest.

“I’m happy the Qunari have kept you here.”

“Me too, Kadan.”

“I love you, Bull.” He pulls me closer into him. For a moment, I wonder if he’s crying.

“I don’t want you to be angry, Viv,” I said.

"Oh what now darling? First you go into solitude like a hermit, what’s next?” I put my legs down and pulled my robes back. “What’s this?” She looked, at first with curiosity, then her eyes widened. “Veda, oh Veda, are you?”

My eyes well, “Yeah, Viv. I am.”

She covers her mouth, the first time I’ve seen her truly shocked. “And is it…?” With that question, the tears fall. The heavy sobs wrack my chest and Vivienne crawls towards me, arms draped around my shoulders and I cry into her chest. “Oh darling, of course you’ve been distracted.” She rubs the back of my head, stroking my neck as I calm down. “Should I ask Harding for some tea? Juice? No wine, of course.” I shake my head. “Oh dear. Who all knows?”

I swallow and trap my tears in my chest. “So far you, Leliana, Thom, and Cassandra. Lace knows, and she’s kept questions from Charter and Rector to a minimum.”

“You haven’t told Josephine?”

“How could I? What could I possibly say, ‘Oh yes, enjoy your new career in Antiva! By the way, I’m carrying the betrayer’s child! Send my love to Yves and Yvette!’”

“I don’t think keeping it secret is much wiser, my dear. People will know, especially once the child is here. Do the Qunari know?” She asked.

“As far as Leliana’s sources know, no. Bull was loyal to the end, they had no reason to think he’d do this, especially when it hadn’t happened in the years before.”

“When did this happen?”

“Right before we left for the Exalted Council,” I said.

“Oh.”

“I know,” I said. “He must have known. I can’t decide if this was kindness or cruelty.”

“What’s that line he always said, darling? ‘When it’s a hostile target, you give them what they want. When it’s someone you care about, you give them what they need.’”

The tears well again. My hands slide to swollen belly. “It isn’t what I wanted. I had never even considered it. He was Qunari enough that I knew we’d never have a family.”

She reached a hand towards my belly, “May I?” I sniffed and nodded. She placed her hands on my stomach, on top of my own hands. “If this isn’t what you wanted, then it must have been what he thought you needed.”

“He couldn’t have known we’d win. He fought like he meant it. He struck me with his blade. He wasn’t fighting to lose.” The anger and grief mixed in my throat.

“He wasn’t, he never did, darling. But he knew you. He knew us. He knew you’d bring me and Cassandra. He knew what the Qunari could and couldn’t do. He believed in you, at the end. Just as he had at the beginning, my dear.” I took a hand from my belly and moved it to the outside of my horn, the groove still there from the years spent lying together.

“I’m not planning on bringing my child into the public life. We’ll have a few years, at least, presuming we aren’t all destroyed by Solas,” I said.

“Shh, no reason to worry about that right now, darling. We have today’s troubles and tomorrow’s troubles.” She sat back and blinked away her own tears. “I’ve never been an aunt before. I’ll of course send over a suite of clothes and supplies from Val Royeux.”

I wipe my eyes and smile, “Are you going to be an aunt or a Grandma’am?”

"Oh you miserable louse, how dare you?” She said, the tears finally pouring from her eyes.

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #inquisitor #adaar x bull #iron bull #the iron bull #inquisitor x bull #da #dai #fanfic #dragon age adaar #bull x adaar #dragon age vivienne #madam de fer

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grilledcheeseandguavajelly · 4 years

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Paulson’s AHS characters ranked by..... favorite?? GO! 👏🏻👏🏻

Alskdfasldkfj I love the “by.... favorite??” because now I’m just thinking of all the other ways to rank them xD Thank you for the ask, lovely!! This was surprisingly more difficult than I anticipated, but SO MUCH FUN!!! Alright here we go:

11. Sexy Sadie

We love a batshit queen. Especially one with pretty fingers and a way with a knife. But poor Sadie is only in AHS for like five seconds, so she gets ranked last by default.

10. Dot Tattler

I’m going to be honest. I wasn’t a huge fan of Dot at the beginning of Freakshow. But the second she had that moment with Bette in the barn, and wiped at her tears and covered her mouth so that Bette wouldn’t hear her crying??? GOODBYE THERE GOES MY HEART. And fuck me, when she confesses her love to Jimmy and that little hopeful smile on her face with the tears in her eyes?? This poor baby just wants LOVE, COME ON.

9. Ally Mayfair-Richards

Ohhh Ally. Don’t get me wrong, I love her to bits. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again -- PROTECT HER AT ALL COSTS. And her transformation is phenomenal. Gosh see even as I’m typing this I’m regretting ranking her so low. I have issues because I get WAY too emotionally attached to vulnerable or “weak” characters. Especially when they're running around screaming and hurting like poor baby Ally. I just want to tuck her away in my heart and keep her safe forever please and thank you.

8. Shelby Miller

Hair. I mean, need I say more? I know that I ranked her low, but here’s the problem: I always brush her off until I rewatch Roanoke. And then I can’t shut up about how perfect she is and how much I love her. So she’ll stay here at 8, but just know that occasionally she plows down pretty much everyone else and sits up at 3 or 4. (Also please see above about falling too hard in love with characters who spend their entire time on-screen running and crying and hurting and scared.)

7. Bette Tattler

Oh Bette. Little baby Bette. Let’s call her PROTECT AT ALL COSTS 2.0 and give her all of the uwus. I love her, nose to toes, and I would absolutely pull down the moon just to see her smile. (Note: this may be my favorite shot from Freakshow, so thank you to whoever giffed this face and absolutely made my day xx)

6. Lana Winters

Okay don’t @ me for ranking her so low. She’s another one that I always forget that I like. But then there are days/weeks where she runs my life and I absolutely lose my mind over her. And I think by now we all know how much I adore Ponytail Lana and her tiny little baby smile and her jacket and the way she pours her tea. Excuse me while I go cry forever.

5. Audrey Tindall

BEAUTIFUL BUTTERFLY BABY ANGEL. I realized the other day that under this dress she is wearing little pink knee socks all scrunched down around her ankles. And to say I was not okay would be a large understatement. She is an actual bean, and such a perfectly radiant little angel. I mean, is there anyone who exudes sunshine like she does? But so sassy, and confident, and sexy, and cocky. And then she burns so hot to protect the people she loves. I will never not scream when she spits in Mama Polk’s face. And that’s that on that.

4. Billie Dean Howard

Favorite gif of my favorite line of my favorite outfit of my favorite lady. But goodness, the amount of lust love that I have for a proper, grown up Southern lady with perfect nails and pearls and a smoking habit that just doesn’t quit? Unparalleled. And if you know me personally, you know what this woman really means to me.

3. Sally McKenna

Should I be insanely attracted to an emotionally wrecked, dependent, dead drug addict? No. Am I? Fuck yes. It’s honestly a problem, and I should probably be worried about it . But look at that little smile. The tear-stained cheeks. Her frizzy-whiz hair. Tell me she’s not the most insanely beautiful, fragile little thing that you’ve ever seen. And tell me that she doesn’t seep into every piece of your heart and make you ache because you can’t wipe her tears away and kiss her until she forgets what it feels like to be abandoned. (Bonus: Victorian chokers)

2. Cordelia Goode

The Supreme, The Love of My Life, The Queen of My Heart, pick a title. She has all of them. Honestly, I would rank her second just for the sheer power of her hair and brows this season. But baby Delia also has my whole heart, and the evolution from timid angel to “your daughter calls me daddy, too” is just... Well. When she walked out of that haze to “She’s a Rainbow”, something inside of me changed forever and a part of me will always be hers. Also, can we just talk about how she becomes her mother in the most beautiful way? She takes the best parts of Fiona and the best parts of herself and weaves them into a Supreme that is so powerful and has such a huge heart. Absolute perfection personified. Long may she reign.

1. Wilhemina Venable

Are we surprised that I ranked her first? NO, OF COURSE NOT. Wilhemina Venable has owned my ass from that second tap of her cane, before I even saw her. And I think it’s safe to assume that she always will. JUST LOOK AT HER-- I don’t know what it is. My gut reaction is to say it’s her vulnerability, but I was head-over-heels for her long before we knew about any of that. There’s just something about her vibe, her aesthetic, her piercing gaze. She owns me, body and soul, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

***Please note that 1-4 will shift around on any given day, depending on my mood, and I had too hard of a time trying to set them in an actual order***

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andmaybegayer · 4 years

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The cultural positioning of typewriters, or: I promise I’m not corporatecore come back it’s fine.

I got a typewriter! If you want a documentary breakdown of that you should read this post, but this is going to be about what typewriters were used for back in the 20th century and how utterly batshit the entire ecosystem there was.

Typewriters were used by three main groups of people: journalists, authors, and secretaries. I don’t really care much about the first two, because while they used typewriters, their job was not typewriting. Typewriters were popular for journalists and authors because typewritten drafts and manuscripts were easier for editors and typesetters (and indeed, legibility is a big reason for the adoption of the typewriter in all parts of the world) but typing is not what journalists and authors do. Authors compose and edit, and journalists research and write, but only secretaries type.

(I read an interesting paper about this three-way split, you can read it here)

In the 1800′s, secretary was a job given to a strapping young man with a bright future in business so that he could learn the trade, but after some wars and other social pressures that reduced the supply of male secretaries, and a convenient confluence of women learning the skill of typewriting, the female secretary became a thing. Suffrage movements were pretty happy about this for a while: Women in the office! How progressive! Of course, the role of secretary very quickly stopped having a progression path to management, and it picked up all the usual misogynistic stereotypes that you probably know today.

If you’re over 45 you probably know what the job of secretary used to look like, but for those of you who aren’t, for most of the 1900′s secretary was a job that revolved around typing letters, missives and notes in a legible and consistent format. This is important, because the alternative sucks shit. If you were mid level manager Johnson Q. Goodfellow at the Racism Company, and you needed to tell the Racism Factory that they needed to produce 400 more units of Racism this week, you could try calling up the manager at the factory and telling him this. Unfortunately, there’s all manner of things that could go wrong here. He might misinterpret you saying “produce 400 more” as “produce 400 only”, in which case you might have a Racism shortage. Or he might mishear entirely and produce only four more, if your accent is particularly bad.

Instead, Johnson Q. Goodfellow could get a secretary to create a missive (in quadruplicate, using carbon paper) and get the 17 year old who hangs around your lobby to courier two copies out of town to the Racism Factory, and you can keep two copies for your own records. Very low chance for errors now, since either side can refer to their copies to find out what was intended. A secretary would also add dates and ensure all communication meets business standards.

(This is also why there’s no red telephone between Washington and Moscow. It used to be a teletype: a text transfer machine. Later, it was Fax, and nowadays it’s encrypted email and text chat. All text-based systems, written in the sender’s native language and translated on the other side to provide the lowest chance of a misunderstanding and high chance of being correctly recorded.)

How would that letter get written? If you were an audio or shorthand typist (a highly skilled profession requiring extensive training at a secretarial school) you would either be a personal secretary to a single executive or a high-ranking member of a secretarial pool. Either way, your manager would dictate a letter, and you would have to convert it into a typewritten document. Originally this would be done by a secretary capturing the speech in real time in shorthand, and later it would be captured on a microcasette and transcribed with the assistance of a dictation machine. On the other hand, a simple copy typist can only work in the secretarial pool, and you would get a hand-written draft from a manager, likely one too low-level to have his own secretary or even his own microcasette recorder. This would possibly be sent back for checking, either by the manager or by your superior, and then all copies would be sent wherever they were needed. The jobs are otherwise similar, apart from a lack of real progression for copy typists.

(A good pop-media example of shorthand typing is the “speed test” song from the musical “Thoroughly Modern Millie”, a rendition of which I will link here. It’s also a treasure trove of the kind of ridiculous stereotypes that existed around the secretarial profession, as a musical made in the 60′s about the 20′s. Millie is a fawning social-ladder-climber who gets her job explicitly to someday marry her boss, who is a self-absorbed dipshit. I was a stagehand on my high school’s production of this, so I know the whole thing from memory. Please send help.)

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Why don’t the managers type their own letters? Well, partially because of the weird skill split on typing: typing was a woman’s skill back then, many men would not even know how to type, and those that did may be extremely slow hunt and peck typists who would make many errors and produce uneven, sub-par manuscripts. Secretary was kind of considered a fallback profession in some cases: schools taught it to girls the same way woodwork was taught to boys. You don’t necessarily want to become a carpenter/secretary, but if you can’t find a decent company job/suitable husband, the skill can support you until you track one down or die. Man, the 20′s-70′s were insane.

There’s some interesting status stuff to talk about here. If you’ve ever seen an old movie where a rich dude takes out a tape recorder and makes a note to himself, that’s the movie’s way of telling you that this guy is powerful enough to have a personal secretary. It implies that later he’s going to put that in an envelope and leave it on someone’s desk and the next day when he comes in, any reminders he made will be on his calendar and any notes will have been typed out in full.

Secretaries type as a profession. The speed expected of an acceptable secretary is a sustained 70 words per minute, which is about what I can do in an extended session. A good secretary could easily surpass 100, and there’s an old navy typist training video of the fastest typewriter typist in the world reaching 180 wpm on demand, and since correction on typewriters is tedious, your accuracy was expected to be near on 100%. On old manual typewriters the skill of keeping all letters even was an additional challenge, since you provided the mechanical force for the type bars. Electric typewriters, like the one I have solve this problem, but it’s still a complicated skill.

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Before the invention of the typewriter, the only way to produce clear, reliably text was typesetting. Typesetting is of course, a noble profession, but not something you can easily do in the office on a whim, and wholly unsuitable for one-time messages. Standardized writing in the office reduces the chance of errors and improves your ability to find out who’s to blame when something goes wrong.

Nowadays secretary is not really a job that exists anymore? You mostly hire Executive Assistants and groups of lower managers share a single Executive Assistant rather than accessing a pool of secretaries. Typing is also no longer the name of the game, instead it focuses on maintaining schedules, synthesis of letters from prompts from your manager, and serving as a gatekeeper for mail and meetings. The name has changed because the job has changed, describing an executive assistant as a secretary would be like referring to the blades of a combine harvester as a scythe. That’s not to say secretaries don’t or can’t type, they are still often the most skilled typists in an office (I have seen multiple photos of macbooks with the coating worn clean off their keys by a legal secretary or medical scribe) but most executives are now capable of performing an adequate job of typing and editing on a computer.

If you wish to do some further reading, interesting resources I found while doing some research that I haven’t linked above for this include:

This quora answer from a woman who was a secretary in the 70′s

This series from an EE magazine about what it was like to work in a typing pool

#typewriter #history #secretary #typing

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lambychop · 5 years

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Ultimate Horror Flick List

I know this isn’t usually my style, but 🎵it’s the most wonderful time of the year🎵

That’s right: it’s the spoopy month! Which means SPOOPY MOVIES

So I present to you:

IRONICENIGMA’S ULTIMATE HORROR FLICK LIST FOR ALL TYPES OF FILM LOVERS

1) For the Gore Hounds

•Saw series- the classic films for the guys who just wanna see some people get ripped to shreads (honestly, after the second one, they go downhill)

•Jigsaw- the more recent edition to the Saw series (this ones actually pretty good and FULL of gore)

•Hostel- Saw Studies Abroad (TM)

•Final Destination series- kinda a dumb one. The movies can be kinda dumb, but the kills are INSANE. Fun movies to watch with the gang

��Texas Chainsaw Massacre- you know it, you love it, I don’t gotta explain it

•Cannibal Holocaust- seriously messed up. Banned in multiple countries. It’s something special.

•The Midnight Meat Train- lesser known, kinda weird, super bloody

•Cabin Fever- gross disease makes you loose your skin. Nasty

•Wrong Turn- basically The Hills Have Eyes but with funner kills

2) The Classic Slashers

•Scream series- one of my faves. Classic story of small town teens with a killer on the loose. Lots of fun

•Friday the Thirteenth- do I have to tell you why this is here?

•Nightmare on Elm Street- Johnny Depp getting turned into a volcano of blood? I’m in.

•Halloween- can’t have Halloween without the movie that took the name, right?

•My Bloody Valentine (the original one)- one of my all time favorite movies. Creepy killer, great group of characters, great time

•Sleepaway Camp- infamous for its batshit ending. Kinda weird ngl, but a classic

•The Town That Dreaded Sundown- Based on a real killer. Oldie, but goodie

•Behind the Mask: The Rise of Leslie Vernon- different take on the slasher genre. Fun look into the life of a movie slasher

•You’re Next- badass female lead? Check. Masked murderers? Check. Family bonding? Uh sure okay

•I Know What You Did Last Summer- secrets are bad. Roll credits

3) Supernatural (demons, ghosts, etc)

•The Conjuring- it’s pretty popular, you know it

•Insidious- also popular. Moral: your body is a ghost hotel

•Sinister- classic demon: likes kids, likes brutal deaths, likes to appear in the background of pictures

•The Exorcist- obviously

•Lights Out- ghosts are scared of light, that’s all you need to know

•The Sixth Sense- not really scary. Actually pretty wholesome. In an “I see dead people” kinda way

•The Rite- priest Anthony Hopkins coughs up nails

•The Omen- aka don’t trust kids

•1408- haunted hotel room. Someone call the ghoul bois

•The Amityville Horror- based on true events. Well at least we know the murders were real and the house is creepy

•The Skeleton Key- Old People+Voodoo= bad time

•Haunting In Connecticut- also a “true” story. Don’t buy a house that used to be a morgue

•The Autopsy Of Jane Doe- boy bonds with dad over dead teenage girl

•Mama- moths are gross, ghosts are worse. Dead Mom from Beetlejuice, but now a movie

•Rosemary’s Baby- dont trust thy neighbor

•The Shinning- classic. That’s all I’ve got to say

•The Orphanage- again: creepy kids

•Stir Of Echos- Kevin Bacon sees ghosts. Must I say more?

•The Others- haunted house story with a twist ending

4) Creature Features

•Trick ‘r Treat- classic Halloween film. Fun, creepy, iconic

•The Ritual- camping trip turns bad. Monster looks really cool

•A Quiet Place- you’ve probably seen it. Jim from the office speaks sign language

•The Babadook- children’s storybook is not kid friendly

•Backcountry- bears are dangerous

•Alien- you’ve seen this already but it needs to be here

•The Descent- dont watch if your claustrophobic

•An American Werewolf In London- also a fave. Best werewolf movie ever made

•The Monster- lesser know, actually pretty good

•The Thing- classic. Super good. Based on a short story. No one can be trusted because you don’t know if they’re even them

5) Horror Comedies

•Zombieland- hysterical. Bloody. Great cast

•Cabin In The Woods- this movie is insane. Combine every horror monster ever, the Illuminati, and the Office- that’s this movie

•Shaun of the Dead- the classic horror comedy

•Scary Movie series- less horror, ridiculous comedy

•This Is The End- again, like no horror, but one of the funniest films ever

6)Found Footage (not a great genre, but some can be pretty entertaining)

•The Blair Witch Project- basically the king of the found footage films. You’ve seen it

•The Conspiracy- the Illuminati is real and they don’t like to be filmed

•Paranormal Activity series- kinda annoying to horror fans. Relies on jump scares and the characters are idiots. But if I’m doing a section on foud footage, this has to be here

•Creep- okay this movie actually really disturbed me. People are absolutely insane. Don’t meet up with people from Craigslist

•V/H/S series- basically a anthology of short horror films. Kinda fun

•Apollo 18- the government faked the moon landing because they found some crazy shit

•The Sacrament- Jonestown caught on camera

•As Above So Below- Paris Catacombs are wack

•Grave Encounters- what if Ghost Adventures actually found ghosts

•Unfriended Dark Web- lets be honest: the first one sucked. Second one is actually not bad. Take away the ghosts, add the black market

•The Poughkeepsie Tapes- lesser know, can be hard to find. Really disturbing. Basically watching a serial killer tape his crimes

•Cold Ground- Set up to look just like it’s out of the seventies. It’s pretty fun

•The Last Exorcism- priests are liers

•Quarantine- English version of [REC]. I wouldn’t say it’s great, but it’s something

•Hell House LLC.- kids set up a haunted house. People die

•The Houses October Built- again with the haunted houses. Don’t trust em

•The Bay- Cabin Fever but found footage-y

•Willow Creek- y’all gotta leave Bigfoot alone

•Lake Mungo- girl drowns, family sees her ghost. No jump scares with this one, like most found footage. Mostly just a family in mourning

•The Tunnel- if the government says to stay out, STAY OUT

•The Taking Of Deborah Logan- alzheimers itself is awful to go through, but let’s add some more spooks

•The Possession Of Michael King- another possession film? Yep they just keep comin

•The Last Broadcast- suspicious murder of tv hosts

6) Family Fun

•Hocus Pocus- okay obviously

•Beetlejuice- dark humor in a “kids” film. Most of the comedy caters to adults, but it’s an awesome film

•Corpse Bride- guy accidentally marries dead girl. Wholesome family fun

•The Nightmare Before Christmas- my fave Disney film. Super cute

•Frankenweenie- dead dog=goodest boy

•Paranorman- sixth sense but now for kids+zombies

•Coraline- Might scar some small children, but I loved it when it came out when I was 8

7) Psychological

•Midsommar- happy cult family holds a festival

•Funny Games- home invasion movie done well. No cheap thrills, just some sadistic shit

•The Strangers- dont answer the door for people wearing masks when it’s not Halloween are you crazy

•The Perfection- artistic, bloody, absolute mind fuck

•Gerald’s Game- sexy time turns not good

•Unsane- imagine being stalked and no one believes you. That’s the premise

•Triangle- ummmmmmmm wtf is happening what time is it??

•It Comes At Night- trust is bad. Paranoia is good.

•The Silence of the Lambs- my personal favorite film. Serial killer helps rookie detective find another serial killer

•Jacob’s Ladder- Vietnam vet struggles with EXTREMELY terrifying visions

AND THERE YOU GO. I have seen plenty more, so if you don’t see one you’d like on this list, hit me up with what kinda movie you’re lookin for and I’ll hook you up amigo

#halloween #horror #movies #movie recommendation #horror movies

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uupiic · 4 years

Note

Reverse AU: tell me about Martha

Oooof, so this took a while.

I prefer not to think of where she is from, exactly, seeing how I recycle OCs that have the luck to be created for fandoms, either because the franchise fell out of favour with me or because the character had to die ~~**~for the purpose of drama and angst~**~~ (Martha, baby, I’m sorry…) Honestly, in this, she’s from somewhere in the Highlands (like that makes it any clearer, orz).

Martha is smol, but strong (ง'̀-‘́)ง She has to be, since techs have to create their magic from scrap, literally, for it to even function. She can lift people and carry them around easily, if she so pleased. Jacques finds himself a target for this frequently.

She pretty much comes from a line of techs, so there was not even a question as to what she should concentrate on, in her studies. If a family member, perchance, has no magical abilities, they usually end up as smiths. That’s just how they roll, family traditions are important to them, and technomancy is considered one of the most difficult disciplines to study, alongside with necromancy and summoning (and I am not saying a certain wizard is a show-off… but a certain wizard is a show-off), not counting the one that is no longer even taught, as, just like the aforementioned, it can get out of hand really fast. Seriously, nobody wants to be on the receiving end of a batshit insane iron statue coming at them full speed. After a few accidents, one of which wrecked havoc in her teacher’s kitchen, she resorted to limiting her magic to a certain range, so all she has to do if it does get out of hand, is to get out of that range - and hope the thing is not galloping towards her at full speed.

Back home, her family are considered something along the lines of protectors of their town, so it’s pretty much a question of honour for her to make her creations capable of fighting off intruders and random raiders that might drop by. You’ve not known horror until there’s a robot rabbit trying to chew at your throat.

Martha doesn’t have much experience with animals, save for cats and dogs, and so she frequently gets surprised about the animals she builds not behaving the way she thinks that animal should behave. It can be a bit of a problem sometimes. Occasionally, she makes them strange or unnerving on purpose, if only to see people’s reaction.

She is always on the lookout for new, strange things, and she’d happily attempt to merge disciplines if she was allowed to do that. Honestly? Had she survived to graduate, she would so have attempted. What the magisters don’t know won’t hurt them, right?

Martha definitely has the ability to foresee future, but it’s literally one level above common gut feeling, so she either isn’t aware she has it or she just blissfully ignores it. In any case, she thinks that it’s rubbish anyway, as she would much rather tackle a problem at hand than dwell on a possible thing that might or might not happen. Predicting future is considered more or less pseudo-magic anyway among the practitioners of magic, due to how uncertain and easy to sway it is, so very little people would actually bother to study it.

She’s definitely the one to cover for Zarg in case a joke got out of hand. That thing with the lizard on the loose in the big hall was the funniest shit she’d ever seen.

And I should probably mention she’s aro ace. Flirtation attempts get shut down, sometimes by the means of a fist in the gut, if people get too pushy.

#Uupiic answers stuff #my OCs

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fluffmugger · 5 years

Text

introspectivenavelgazer replied to your post: introspectivenavelgazer replied to... CYBORGS? WHAT? I AM SO CONFUSED. aconiteherbalist replied to your post: introspectivenavelgazer replied to... Yes? Explain? Please?

OK. This is gonna be full of massive fucking spoilers, ‘cos I’m gonna lay it all out rather than feed it to you piecemeal as the show did with the slow unfurling. also people are probably gonna yell at me on this and that.

IN THE BEGINNING, THERE WAS LIGHT

ok, you probably noticed this show is huge on stealing from religious mythology. Chiefly abrahamic.

So: Progenitor species ( Yeah you could call them aliens, or celestial beings, it’s really down to whether or not you want to be religious or scientific or both, because the show allows for both and lets be honest the progenitor species fulfill all requirements for god.) sends out “seeds” to various planets.

One of these, called in the series Adam landed on Earth. Adam is known as the Seed of Life. The seed of life creates god-like creatures, these were known as the Angels.

However, later on (the First Impact) another seed hit earth. This was the Seed of Knowledge and is known in the series as Lilith, which would create a species that in’t god like, but instead is co-operative and uses technology. This is the creation of the human species

Two seeds aren’t supposed to hit the same planet because the combination of the two would result in god like powers on the same level as the progenitor species - this is what they called “forbidden knowledge”. So Adam went dormant and the angels left Earth.

Just to dogleg here - the seeds came via “moons” (FUCKING TRANSPORT MODULES) with a “lance of longinus” as their control system. Adam came on the “white moon” and Lilith came on the "Black Moon" and lost her “spear” (control system). Since Adam’s spear (control system) was still active, it picked up Lilith’s arrival and shut down due to safety protocols to prevent a merging. The “dead Sea Scrolls” are actually a user manual, but seeing as we’re also talking about a species with PHENOMENAL COSMIC POWER they're also prophetic and shit as perceived by piddly human brains.

So humans ended up evolving and breeding and covering the planet and so you have our reality. La di frickin’ da.

So you have SEELE who have been poking at this manual and realising what's happened and going HEY LETS BECOME GODS. They already have Lilith - that big marshmallow fucker that's nailed the cross, it's basically a big Meaningful Imagery of a species progenitor kept in check, what's leaking out of her is Primordial Ooze - but they need the other Seed. They fund an expedition (lead by Misato's father), who then goes poking around and finds Adam, its Spear of Longinus, and the White Moon in Antarctica. (The progenitor program, control system and space ship). They decide to poke it with a stick, and fuse some human (lilith-created) DNA with him, which created the Fifth Child / Angel (Kowaru). This triggers a safeguard and causes the Second Impact because, you know, THEY'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO MERGE. (They also use the lance to reduce Adam to an "embryonic" state to try and stop the angels from reactivating and returning. )

The "official" UN story is that the second impact was a meteor strike. Two billion people in the southern hemisphere were killed by tsunamis caused by the explosion, with more worldwide drowning in coast floods. In the chaos that ensued wars broke out due to the destabilisation of many nation states, food supplies were fucked, it was catastrophic. Civil wars broke out everywhere, refugee crises, ethnic tensions, the whole shebang. India and Pakistan went full trump and nuked the shit out of each other, and finally 2 days after the disaster another nuke was detonated in "Old Tokyo" killing two million people. (and leaving that bloody huge hole) Worldwide war broke out for a year. Basically all the shit we're looking at in a worse case scenario with climate catastrophe happened. Half of the human race and thousands of plant and animal species were wiped out entirely.

And so we have the world of Eva, the result of the Second Impact. Pretty standard "mankind meddling with things he was not meant to know and now we're all fucked" trope.

Misato was at ground zero, but her father managed to place her in a protective capsule, so she survived, but the injuries left that massive scar on her chest, and massive psychological scars which is why she's a raging drunk.

AAAAANYWAY Seele aren't done with the befucking however, because as we all know humans are garbage and groups of men in darkened rooms sitting around a table even more so. So they keep right on fucking.

Seele embark on the "Human Instrumentality Project", which is to use a controlled third impact to force the evolution of humanity to the same level as the original progenitor species - a fusion of Knowledge and of Life seeds. This would also result in the erasure of individuality, with all human souls fusing into a single "being" for want of a better word, the physical forms goopifying and creating a sea of primordial soup, known as LCL. I don't know if you've ever watch DS9, but the Great Link of the Founders (Odo's species) is a pretty close parallel.

Problem is, the Angels are awake.

The Angels are attempting to return to Earth, to basically initiate their own second impact, except in this case it would involve re-activating Adam which would erase all humans. This would be done by an "AT field" clash - basically AT fields are what binds a life form together - not just the physical form, but psychological, so essentially an unmaking that would revert all non-angel life to primordial goop. An Adam-generated "Angel" life form template would goop a Lilith-based "human" template. (for the majority of the series, Lilith is actually misidentified as Adam if that helps. If anything helps. It's a h o t mess). Particularly where Evas utilise their AT fields, think of it as an EM field + extras.

And so you have Adam's "Children" (Known as angels, but also referred to as apostles) start hitting earth one after the other, and this is where you get the Evas pulled into production and the Big Robot Battles

NOW TO THE EVAS

Unit 01 (Shinji's) was actually generated using genetic material from Lilith itself. It's also known as a clone. As a result it tends to go batshit fucking insane ("Beserk") on occasion. It's a living being in an armoured suit with a lot of intertwined mechanics - the Evas are in fact, cyborgs. There are indications that Eva was an attempt to create a controllable Lilith - Lilith (progenitor program that created humanity) having lost her "spear of longinous" (Control module) is essentially unusable. Shinji's mother and Gendo's wife Yui initiated a contact with this eva unit pre-series, but in fact merged with the eva - her body goopified, but her soul remains inside the unit. This is why Unit 01 runs so well with Shinji (her son) as pilot, and goes beserk in battle situations where he is threatened.

Unit 02 has a similar deal, except it went wrong. Only part of Asuka's mother's soul was absorbed, the resulting schism driving what was left of her insane ,and she commits suicide. The part of her that still resides in Eva-02 is what makes Asuka her pilot, but without the same level of integration and control that Yui has in 01, having fully melded. Asuka, honey, I know you're pissed that Shinji is a better pilot than you, THERE IS A REASON FOR THAT.

Evas are cyborgs with merged human souls. Once they worked out it made the fuckers work, they really went to fucking town on it, so every Eva is a human soul, preferably one who was the mother of the pilot if they can get her (weaponising maternal instincts yooooo)

Go, take a break, take a walk, try and digest it for a bit.

So to give us the cliff notes at this point: Eva is about a battle between two species over who gets to become god, with humans using genetically engineered monsters that have absorbed human souls.

Now to REI what the fuck is up with Rei

Rei is a clone. She was an attempt to retrieve Yui from Eva 01 using what they could scrape up of her DNA, but Yui basically told them to go fuck themselves she wasn't coming out. So Rei is used as a vessel for Lilith's "soul" - she's basically an attempt to first rescue Yui, then later an attempt to create a control system for Lilith. This is why she can pilot 01 so readily, and why she's so disconnected from reality. There are at least three Rei's in the series:

REI I:

The first attempt, the little girl in the red dress who got strangled by Akagi. Seen in flashbacks she was very different from the others, and seemed to have more of a personality. To this end there are theories that her soul was used for EVA00, which would explain why it seems to hate her, and hate all of NERV because she's fucking well aware of what the cunts did to her, and being part Lilith has the full capability to express this.

REI II:

This is the one we see throughout the series as a teenaged girl, who is killed when she self-destructs her Eva unit to kill Armisael.

REI III:

Fresh clone right out of the vat and seemingly more involved and aware. She rejects Gendo's attempt to control her, giving the complete control of the third impact to Shinji instead (SHINJI TAAAAAAKE THE WHEEEL)

RIGHT, NOW TO SKIP FORWARD A BUNCH TO THE THIRD IMPACT

The idea behind it:

Seele wanted to initiate Third Impact to bring about Instrumentality. They would use an Anti A.T. Field to neutralize the A.T. Fields that separate human beings from each other, causing all of humanity to revert into a giant ocean of LCL, freeing their souls. All the souls of Earth would then be collected inside the Adam/Lilith hybrid being. Basically we goop, then Great Link as mentioned above.

Gendo doesn't really give a shit about humanity, he just wants his wife back. He approaches Rei III (the most lilith-like and most human of Rei clones) with the Adam embryo, and she rejects him, takes the embryo, then returns to Lilith to fuse with her. After assimilating Lilith, the inchoate form begins to merge with Evas and with all of humanity, causing everyone to go sploosh as they approach "the divine", seeing their loved ones and going all religious ecstasy.

Thing is, at the end of the day, Lilith and Adam, as advanced as they are, are created functions. They have control software and with the introduction of Rei, Shinji becomes the pilot.

And shinji is realllllllly fucked up, hence that whole wtf ep where it's basically the destruction of his ego, the exposure of his self loathing, jacking off over Asuka, trying to choke her, facing all the fucked up parts of himself then learning that everyone else is as fucked up as he is and no dude, NO ONE KNOWS WHAT THE FUCK THEY'RE DOING. It kinda derails for a lot of people at this point as it's a confusing montage of imagery, but basically that's a big ol' trip through a teenage boy's psyche, and reflective of the mental issues Anno himself had at the time.

But it ends in a breakthrough.

SERIOUSLY WATCH “THE END OF EVANGELION” ITS BASICALLY THE SERIES END REWRITTEN AND SANER AND OH MY GOD

And so Shinji rejects instrumentality. The process is left in a state where everyone has the option to *choose* - to remain linked in the singular being, or be individual, which in and of itself isn't really a failure as the ability to control your own physical forms was part of Adam's lifeform archetype. Hence the sea of LCL, with dotted humans. Shinji and later Asuka return to human form, but the fate of everyone else is left open.

OK I'm gonna take a break for a bit here because holy shit this is tolstoy here and I’m actually at work, so please PM me with further questions and I shall do up further posts, but this should be enough to get you going. No one gets Eva on the first watch, it's a fucking glorious mess and even after years of watching you're gonna pick up some new shit.

#fucking christ I've written fic shorter than this #Eva

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dcarevu · 5 years

Text

Batman TAS: Feat of Clay (Part 1)

“Sweet dreams, slime ball”

Out of the three two-parters so far, the two best ones have involved a villain with the word “face” in their name. Maybe if Red Claw had been Claw Face, we would have gotten a better conclusion?

Episode: 20 Robin: No Writers: Michael Reaves (story), Marv Wolfman (story/teleplay) Director: Dick Sebast Animator: Akom Airdate: September 8, 1992 Grade: A

Now this is more like it! It’s like the writing process of Prophecy of Doom was someone taking the Renuyu cream and dumping it all over Batman TAS, turning it into a blob. But then for this one, Marv Wolfman and Michael Reaves took that blob and meticulously sculpted it back into something awesome. We’ve seen from Pretty Poison what Michael Reaves can do, and back when we covered that episode, I gave most of the credit to Paul Dini, due to him being the only name I recognized at the time. That is part of why I love doing this blog series. I am learning so much more about the series than I would otherwise! I’m learning about different members of the creative team, breathing new life into the DCAU for me. I swear, it’s like watching something I’ve never seen before sometimes! Looking through Michael Reave’s episode resumé, I’m seeing some very mixed results, and he’s very much responsible for a future episode that many people seriously pan. But he’s also done a handful of potential top 10 material. This shows me that back when tv show episodes were ordered in bulk, it gave a lot less room to throw out potential bummers. When a standard 13-episode season is ordered, you can overshoot a little bit easier and then streamline the selection. I can’t even imagine never producing a show before, and then being told that I gotta make over 60 installments for the first run. I think that being a great writer is only partially about writing awesome things. It’s also knowing what to get rid of and what to cut down. I don’t care who you are, you’re not going to have good ideas always, and your mindset can be in a weird place for one day out of seven, causing something you regret.

Most of what stood out to me for this one was the sheer intensity of it, and I think that stands true for Char as well. She mentioned that the fight was pretty violent in parts, that the origin of Clayface was enjoyably gruesome/messed up beyond belief, and that Batman’s interrogation moment was batshit insane! Going through these aspects one by one, we first have the fight scene. The one that happens right after the phony Bruce Wayne tries to kill Lucius Fox (happy first appearance, by the way). I love the way that Batman just punts Germs (one of Roland Daggett’s thugs who is ironically a germaphobe) across the room, into a switch. It makes me consider doing a post called “Top 10 DCAU Kicks” or something. And then right after that, Germs tries to shove Batman’s head between notches on some interconnecting, spinning gears.

The amount of times Batman comes so close to death during even little scenes like this against ordinary thugs… Like, I get that he’s Batman, and he’s awesome, and he’s not to be messed with, but I feel like he must be so settled into the mindset of “I could die any night”. I know I’ve talked in the past about Bruce having a hard time forming meaningful relationships sometimes, but this adds to that. It’s not just a matter of keeping a secret or physically exerting yourself so often. Being Batman is also about accepting the very real possibility of a gruesome death, no matter what you’ve got scheduled for the rest of the week.

Clayface’s origin is kind of a fight scene as well I guess, and it’s no less pulse-pounding. Roland Daggett mentions to his thugs that he wants them to get rid of Matt Hagen (who was on a magazine cover a couple episodes back), as he has “outlived his usefulness”. They know that he will come around the area, looking for more of that face cream, because it has made him an addict. And it’s not even a simple mental addiction, like how I am addicted to cereal (totally legit). It apparently has chemically addicting properties, and on top of that, Matt obviously has some huge self esteem issues. Not to say that I blame him. He does sorta have a face that only a mother could love.

He’s not just concerned with looking “attractive” for when he’s acting, though, he doesn’t want anyone to see him at all when the face cream wears off. He yells at his best friend, Teddy, to shut the door of his dressing area in a hurry so that no one catches a glimpse of what he looks like. It’s sad to see Matt and Teddy interacting the way they do. They’re supposed to be friends, but Matt has obviously let his situation get to his head, much like what can happen with drug addicts in the real world. And with Matt at probably the worst he’s ever been, Roland Daggett is nothing but a heartless monster. These crime bosses in this show piss me off!

This is the second episode that we’ve had which has tackled the subject of drug addicting in a very respectable way. If we didn’t get the heaviness and great story with the drug elements, it would seem as preachy. But they use the idea of drug addiction as a plot element rather than revolving the plot around that. It helps make the story flow like Matt Hagen’s eventual skin. And speaking of that, to apparently kill Matt Hagen, what the thugs do when he arrives at the location they predict he will, they take a big container of the Renuyu face cream and dump it all over his body. I think. That’s what I always thought was happening, but it has come to my attention that maybe they were just aiming for directly into his mouth. That is honestly just despicable of them.

That silhouette has way more of a dramatic effect on me than just showing it would have.

Injuring him in one of the nastiest ways possible (basically turning his body into liquid shit) with the very thing running his life, and ultimately destroying it. If Matt never found that face cream, he probably would have been alright. Maybe not a famous actor, but he could have gotten by. Probably found love. Not this way. At least, not for now. I’ll admit, I really couldn’t tell you if Matt Hagen was a decent person before getting into this mess, and I will talk a little bit more about that next time. But to say he deserved what he got? No way! And this is what makes him another oh-so-tragic rogue for the DCAU.

Okay, and then can we talk about that interrogation scene where Batman stabs the pointy ears of his Batwing through a thug’s car, rips the door off, and then grabs him by the wrist with this little robotic extendable arm, high above the rooftops of Gotham City?

Jesus Christ, Batman! I get that someone is impersonating you (and this time it was in purpose, not coincidental like with Man-Bat in episode 1), and that it may piss you off a little bit, but watch how you’re swooping, man! You’re gonna sever that guy’s wrist and turn him into pudding as he hits the concrete below! Ha, no, but in all seriousness, this scene was just awesome. Probably the most hardcore Batman has gotten yet when it comes to getting the answers that he wants. Even though the guy passed out before he could actually get them… And then I love how when the cops surround Batman (Gotta note their nonchalant reactions too…like, “Batman, c’mon, man, we’ve talked to you about this!”), he releases the guy by dropping him into a rooftop swimming pool which has gotta be several stories below.

Imagine if his aim was just a little bit off! Batman’s like, “Hey, the sign only said ‘No Diving’.” See, this is why you keep your rooftop pool covered when you’re not using it. Hell, the dude probably shit his pants in that pool out of fear. I would have!

Feat of Clay (Part 1) also brought up the subject of fame, and the repercussions of it, much like how Beware the Gray Ghost did, but we take a much different approach to the character, one that I will be going more in detail with…next time! How will Feat of Clay (Part 2) hold up? I’ll give you a hint: TMS.

Watching this episode with Char and noticing her confusion as Bruce acts so shady was perfect.

I don’t remember their eyes glowing like this when I took the screenshot! Their eyes must have reflected the camera flash...

Lucius Fox debut episode. Don’t know much about him yet, though.

Picture that case as a pizza box.

Matt Hagen movie poster. If only the poor guy realized that he still had the ability to play these parts, even if the public found out about his face.

Him licking his lips here was a little odd.

I think that this might be our first time that we’ve had a villain so established and successful among the public. The corruption of his company doesn’t seem to be common knowledge. Look at his foreboding building!

Ed Asner plays Daggett, an original character to this show. No, I’m not gonna make any “soulless ginger” jokes. What is this, 2012?

There is no way that stuff wouldn’t be all over the conveyor belt.

More satisfying typing noises! Yeah, baby!

The shittiest shots in the episode. Happen as Batman zooms by the camera in the Batwing.

You’ve pissed Batman off if you see this face.

It’s one thing to frame Batman, it’s another to frame Bruce Wayne! And unlike a lot of superheroes, Bruce Wayne is a big enough public figure where it would make total sense for criminals to frame him.

We’ll be seeing more of what kind of monster he’s been turned into next time!

Char’s grade: A

Next time: Feat of Clay (Part 2) Full episode list here!

#batman tas #dcau #dc animated universe #feat of clay #feat of clay part 1 #batman #batman the animated series #clayface

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velcro-rave · 7 years

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post-emoji movie Trauma

WARNING: the following text contains spoilers and can be considered disturbing to some readers. especially my brain, because it’s leaking out my ears after typing this.

This is the first movie ever I’ve gone to see on opening night. And let me just say that, for the record, I’m glad I went to watch with friends. Without them, I would have most likely calmly exited the room, climbed up to the roof, and dived straight off.

I’m honestly fucking terrified of how much this shitty movie has pushed me to the edge. I’ve never felt more ANGRY in my life and at the same time wanted to just curl up in a ball and cry myself to sleep. This is so fucked up. What made it possible for this level of psychological warfare to be used so casually by Sony? Why did they decide this was ever a good idea to present to the public? I’m still shaking (and not from the overpriced Coca-Cola I was sold). Whether it’s out of rage or fear, I don’t know. Not even throwing myself into the deep fires of hell can attempt to restore the intrinsic warmth I felt before I witnessed this crime of a movie. They say that there’s a special place reserved below for people who cause enough pain to humanity, and it is at this point where I pose this question to the following:

Tony Leondis. Eric Siegel. Mike White. Michelle Raimo Kouyate.

Why?

Did you want this to happen to me? Was this the plan all along? To destroy everything you could possibly love in the process of creating this film, to make the audience suffer without any remorse? You got PATRICK FUCKING STEWART as a voice actor, and what is it you do?

Yeah, you make him play A WALKING PILE OF SHIT!!!!

Someone could’ve ran up to me after I left the theater, put a shotgun directly up to my forehead, pulled the trigger, and that would have still not come close to how much my mind had been blown at the shocking reality that this movie, this spawn, could exist in the known universe and continue to be shown to innocent people. There were kids there. Hopeful, happy, young kids with iPhones who thought it was a great idea to head off to the movies and watch a funny relatable movie about emojis without a care in the world. Communicating ideas without the use of words is the “staple” of their generation, as the movie so proudly portrays (even comparing it to ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics!), and there’s no reason a family shouldn’t agree to bring their children to this beautiful, heartwarming adventure, right? WRONG.

Nothing could have prepared me for the horrific amount of groan-worthy jokes this movie tossed out. I’ve been wracking my brain for an entire hour trying to remember the most potent ones, but they were so easily forgettable that I can only recall a few offhand. They were tragic. Whenever an opportunity for a shitty pun showed itself, you can bet your ass the writers took it and ran with it to lengths beyond the realms of humor. From the character known as Hi-5′s nonchalant Bye Felicia! to his two puns about snapping (as if one wasn’t enough), I wanted to get up and scream at the ceiling in the hopes that my cries of agony would disrupt the structural integrity of the building and have it fall on top of me, finally freeing me from the slow-cooker of torture that is The Emoji Movie.

At a certain point, Hi-5 (by the way James Corden, I thought you were cool. I thought you were here for us, for all of us as an entertainer, but you just had to take part in ruining me and the world as we know it by accepting this role. I will never forgive you.) mentions something about his heart beating. His… heart? This walking, talking hand has a heart? Does he have lungs? What other internal organs could fit in there and be capable of being slapped around constantly as a result of his stupid ass decisions? Why doesn’t he have arms like Gene or Jailbreak, does his body somehow take into account that he’s already a living appendage? This movie is making me sit and contemplate the anatomy of a fucking animated HAND, and that’s not even as preposterous as a thought can get while watching.

On multiple occasions throughout my viewing experience, I had to take a break to just lean back and sigh, both in anguish of what was happening onscreen as well as the sheer exhausting aspect of it all. The voice acting couldn’t have been more unreliable. Every other line it was a gamble between it being a poorly executed pun delivered so flatly that not even the 4-year old up front let out a little giggle, an obvious statement about what they’re planning to do next, or the most unremarkable snippet of backstory ever revealed. I’m sure all those scenes between Gene and Jailbreak where they gaze at each other were meant to be construed as romantic, but her blasé response to each of his approaches because she “isn’t some princess waiting for her prince” or how “women are deserving of more respect” completely knocked the mood off whatever pedestal it was stepping up to. I get it, these are actual important themes that need to be recognized, and I would be more than happy to see this acknowledged in a movie built on as many metaphors as Zootopia, but the timing of her commentary was the worst I’d ever seen. The constant interruptions made it seem like her words shouldn’t be taken seriously at all!

Unsurprisingly, character background was virtually (unintentional pun. I’m incredibly sorry.) nonexistent, and everything that’s possible to be wondered about the universe could pretty much be answered with a big shrug. For example, why does Hi-5 have a band-aid? Did he get stabbed or something? When did Gene begin to show signs that he was capable of other emotions? Was the Just Dance girl deleted after the trash bin emptied itself out? We didn’t see any signs of the characters going back for her after Hi-5 had to shake off the troll, so did they just leave her there to die? If Jailbreak had been working for a long time to get out, why didn’t she use more of her hacking skills? She pulled up her hologram window things maybe three times total to escape or hide somewhere, does she seriously not have anything else in her repertoire that could potentially help Gene and Hi-5 get to where they need to be quicker? There’s so many questions that don’t even get passively explained. Then again, I’m arguing against the same people who genuinely advocated for the setting to be called Textopolis.

AND WHOSE FUCKING IDEA WAS IT TO MAKE THE MAIN CHARACTER “MEH”??

The ONE emoji with zero interesting qualities and the most monotone parents that, for some fucking batshit insane reason, were given more than the minute of screentime they deserved. I understand for a quick gag, their emotionless response to everything could be funny, but their conversations would just stretch on and on and on. As for Gene, I trusted you, T.J. Miller. I can’t believe you betrayed me, especially after such a hilariously perfect role in Deadpool. Never in my life have I felt so disappointed in a single person. There is no justifiable reason for you to be proud of what you’ve done here. To be honest, I’m pretty sure I astral projected at least three times as I struggled to repress the memory of this trainwreck before it even ended. When I wasn’t desperately clawing at the armrests mid-convulsion, I was staring vacantly at the center of the screen, wondering how this week could have gone so wrong.

This was basically a 91-minute long advertisement. The whiplash of traveling between product placement to product placement nearly made me throw up, which was ostensibly the only thing that could’ve made this worse. Dropbox, Spotify, Candy Crush, Just Dance, YouTube, Facebook, and the almighty Twitter, I hope you’re happy with what you’ve wrought. The “emoji-pop” dance assaulted my eyes so suddenly, acting as the unnecessary cherry on top of the feel-good ending; I think that’s when I officially lost all hope in enjoying the rest of my night.

It’s honestly taking every ounce of my being to hold onto the little bit of life that I have after the Emoji Movie ripped my soul to shreds. The amount of violation I felt as my ears were subjected to endless pop culture references that were relevant years ago, nightmarish depictions of the content of each app on Alex’s phone, and the fact that the god damn Eggplant was in the Unused Emojis room when everyone knows that’s not the case is indescribable. I now have to live with the fact that every time I switch keyboards on my phone, those blank yellow faces will serve as a dark reminder of what I’ve gone through. To any of you reading this that have also watched The Emoji Movie, I am so sorry. I know how difficult it is to process. My recommendation to each and every one of you who haven’t had the chance to witness this sickening spectacle is to KEEP IT THAT WAY. Don’t give in to the peer pressure; this abomination parading itself around as an endearing motion picture will wholly and truly rattle you to the core. My only solace was the complete absence of dabbing or whipping (apart from hearing the song), and I’d like to thank every deity above and below for that small act of mercy.

Here’s to you, Sony. Thanks for ensuring that I not only sink deeper into my depression, but for forcing my mind to house the images I’ve seen today for as long as I live. I wish I could physically bring myself to chuck my phone in a garbage fire, but my entire body has gone numb. Here’s to you, and to all the writers, producers, and directors of this movie that made me sit in a corner pondering how I can possibly live in a future where this monstrosity exists.

Gravely, sincerely,

fuck you, and goodnight.

🖕

#long post #rant #p #the emoji movie #emoji movie #FUUCKKKKKK.#I feel like banging my head against the wall until I pass out #food mention #I would appreciate it if any of you could recommend a good therapist #god knows I need the help #goodnight #2017 #tumblr keeps getting rid of readmores i'm really sorry if this takes up your dash

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crimsonrevolt · 7 years

Photo

Congratulations Cassidy you’ve been accepted to Crimson Revolt as Igor Karkaroff!

↳ please refer to our character checklist

It’s always a joy seeing people apply for a second character and it was such a pleasant surprise to get this app in our inbox! I feel like you fully fledged out a character that we haven’t seen a lot of, and gave him a life beyond the little skeleton that you based it off of! It’ll be so intriguing to see a character like Igor on the dash and to see you personify a character that is as underplayed and unknown as him and make him your own! I’m sure he’ll be a fantastic addition to the dash, and we can’t wait to see how you explore him further. *your fc change to Boyd Holbrook has been accepted

application beneath the cut; tw: physical abuse, violence, death

OUT OF CHARACTER

INTRODUCTION

Cassidy, 22, she/her, Pacific Timezone, United States.

ACTIVITY

I feel like I’m decently active. I try to get out one reply a day, if not more. I do have more time to write now, but just to be on the safe side I’d say 6/7 out of ten.

TRIGGERS

*removed for privacy

HOW DID YOU FIND US?

I’m already a member of this AMAZING AND BEAUTIFUL group, but it was through the marauder rp tag….I think.

WHAT HARRY POTTER CHARACTER DO YOU IDENTIFY WITH MOST?

I feel like the many characters of Harry Potter are misfits, outsiders, people who just don’t fit in, and I’m definitely part of that group. I think last time I said Sirius (yay for dysfunctional families) or Luna (because she’s always being herself no matter what). This time, I’ll say Neville because if one guy didn’t fit in well it was him. Sure, he had friends, but I think even then he still felt like an outsider even if that wasn’t true. He had major insecurities, but we read and watched him develop and move beyond those which takes guts and I really dig that.

ANYTHING ELSE?

Nope! :D

IN CHARACTER

DESIRED CHARACTER

Igor Einar Karkaroff

‘Igor’ is a common Slavic name and means protected. His mother chose this name because she wanted her son to always know that she will always be thinking of him no matter what. To her, it is meant as a blessing.

‘Einar’ comes from the Old Norse name Einarr, possibly related to the concept ‘the einherjar’, warriors who died in battle and ascended to Valhalla. ‘Einar’ means one/alone and warrior. This is also the middle name of his father.

I found pretty much zero information about the meaning/definition of the name ‘Karkaroff’, but in Turkish ‘Kark’ means unsettled, so there’s that.

FACE CLAIM

First choice: Boyd Holbrook

Second choice: Taylor Kitsch

Third choice: Wentworth Miller

REASON FOR CHOSEN CHARACTER

I’ve had my eye on Igor for a while now. He’s not the most played character from what I’ve seen and there isn’t a lot about him anywhere (I guess I have a type). There are no long lists of headcanons or a few dozen dreamcasts and aesthetics rolling around in Tumblr, or extra hidden facts if you look hard enough between the lines. All we know is what the books say and how the movies portray him. And he has an ugly, cowardly, slimey personality. But all of that is why I was so drawn to him. His bio made me see him in a different way and the more I develop him in writing and in my head the more excited I get. It made me start thinking about who he was as a 29 year old man, what made him the way we saw him, what was his role is and why.

Young Igor is not the man we know or think we know, but that is exactly what he wants you to think. He is an intangible mystery, like trying to catch smoke with your hands. All people annoy him, disgust him, he hates everyone and everything. He sleeps all day and stays up all night, smoking half a pack of cigarette as he tries to wash the blood out from his clothes. Nothing fazes him because he’s seen it all, he’s done it all; that’s what happens when you attend Durmstrang Institute. This is the real Igor, but no one sees the real Igor. Not some, not a rare few, not close friends- no one.

On the outside, he works for a wealthy pureblood family training and tending to their dozen or so horses, for both racing and companionship. The work is quiet. It’s just him, the horses, and his thoughts, just how he likes it. It pays well enough for a room every night at the Leaky Cauldron and to put food on the table. He is always dressed neatly, always very, very clean, and almost too formal even in the most casual of situations. His connection to the Inner Circle is Orion Black, who has slowly introduced him to a handful of Death Eaters and like minded people within the past year. He is still earning their trust, but he’s so close he can taste it.

Igor doesn’t care about blood status or the lack of magic. He is a dark, dangerous man by nature. Being a Death Eater means having all the fun and no consequences. And it allows him to continue his search for the people who killed his family, making him the last Karkaroff.

Igor has the dark mark. He always wears his mask when it’s needed and only a few Death Eaters know he is one.

I stopped myself here, but I’ve written more about his family and stuff in his about on his mock blog.

PREFERRED SHIPS // CHARACTER SEXUALITY // GENDER & PRONOUNS

Igor is male and uses the pronouns he/him.

Igor/Chemistry. Also, I think Igor would like Alecto and Edgar. She’s very Durmstrang in his mind and Ed seems pretty dark, ya know.

Igor does not do romance. He doesn’t cuddle, he doesn’t kiss, there is no hand holding or hugging. He doesn’t want to know your life story and he will never ask for it in the history of ever. The only thing he wants to know is your age. Hell, he doesn’t even need to know your name. Once he’s done fucking, you better get your clothes on and the get the hell out of his bed. There is only enough room for one person on his very large king bed. Maybe a cat or a dog. He hasn’t decided yet.

With that said, Igor is an intensely private man, not very experienced if we’re talking about the number of sexual partners, and sex just isn’t important to him. Relationships don’t matter to him either. It will only get in the way of his ultimate goal. He values intelligence more than anything else.

He is pansexual, with many hedonistic qualities. I don’t think Igor would really know the term ‘pansexual’ so when it comes to his sexuality he doesn’t put a label on it and simply likes what he likes.

CREATE ONE (OR MORE!) OF THE FOLLOWING FOR YOUR CHARACTER:

-A MOCKBLOG: https://igorkvrkvroff.tumblr.com/

-A PLAYLIST: https://igorkvrkvroff.tumblr.com/tagged/%7B-igor-%7C-music-%7D

Depending when you check out the mock blog, there might be a few headcanons which will be labeled as so.

IN CHARACTER QUESTIONNAIRE

The following section should be looked at like a survey for your character. Answer them in character and feel free to use gifs. Or, if you’d rather, answer them in third person or OOC without gifs. Answers do not have to be extremely lengthy.

♔ If you were able to invent one spell, potion, or charm, what would it do, what would you use it for or how would you use it? Feel free to name it:

That answer is easy. His first thought his is family. Igor wouldn’t want to bring them back from the dead, but he’d want to be able to access all of their memories, their final thoughts, the last things they saw. Happy memories and, their favorite ones. He would be able to revisit these memories over and over again. It would most likely have to be a spell, as it would only work after a person died when their consent is not needed. The spell would only be needed to be performed once, but it would have to be very soon after death before the body has mostly or completely decayed. (wow that’s a little morbid).

♔ You have to venture deep into the Forbidden Forest one night. Pick one other character and one object (muggle or magical), besides your wand, that you’d want with you:

Igor would bring a couple packs of cigarettes. He’s a fighter and not afraid of much, but if he doesn’t have a smoke on him he will go batshit insane. He would probably bring Severus Snape with him. He’s just as mysterious as Igor is and the kid doesn’t talk too much and when he does it usually has value to it. Most importantly, he can trust Snape not to do something that could cost them their lives.

♔ What kinds of decisions are the most difficult for you to make?

The hardest decisions to make for Igor are about the ones who he chooses to trust. Short of saving his life, there is not much one can do to earn his trust even if they have innocent intentions. It takes months, even years of knowing each other. His closest friends are back home, brothers and sisters who he went to school with. There may not be many of them, but Igor knows he can trust them with his life.

♔ What is one thing you would never want said about you?

Igor would do anything to make sure his affiliation with Voldemort and the Death Eaters does not get out. It would get in the way of his own personal vendetta. Igor has business with many people, each one carefully used to his exacts needs and if any of that got out it could mean his life.

WRITING SAMPLE

Word count: 867

Trigger warnings: physical abuse, violence, death

It was the first day of spring in Kalmar, Sweden; beautiful, peaceful, and quiet. Daylight broke only five minutes ago and the town was barely waking up. A young eleven year old boy was rising from bed, his footsteps so quiet it was like he was floating above the ground. Although it was now spring, there was still snow on the ground and a biting chill in the early morning wind. The boy got dressed in thick furs and thick boots. He passed by the kitchen where a young man sat alone, just getting home from work, vodka in one hand and a book in the other; he did not look up so the boy continued on. He grabbed his bicycle (that he bought with his own money) out of the shed, dragged it to the sidewalk, and started pedaling to the office of the local newspaper.

The snow had melted just enough to where it only took him one and half hours to finish his paper route instead of the usual two. The boy returned the bag to his boss, a generous old man, and collected his weekly check; 50 kr, muggle money, but it was just as good as the magic kind. With a hug, the boy left and returned home.

If only his route he had finished sooner.

He could hear his twin sister sobbing inside his home and he was still on the sidewalk. The blue bike fell to the ground with a loud scraping noise as he took off; the tire stuck up in the air spun as it was left. As hard as he could, he opened the front door, ignoring it as it bounced off the wall, catching everyone’s attention.

“Nikolai! Go to your room! NOW!”

His mother pointed at him then the stairs, but his father, who was tall, angry, and greasy, who has been gone for three weeks, smacked her hand out of the air and grabbed her wrist, twisting the bone as she bit down on her lip to swallow the cries.

“BOY! Go sit your ass down. Right. NOW!”

His eyes darted around the living room; two lamps were broken and a glass of orange juice puddled in the middle of the floor. Time froze. The air tasted like poison.

“BOY!”

Nikolai watched himself turn his head as he looked at the kitchen where smoke was rising up behind the counter; breakfast was burning, the kettle was going off, his twin sister was watching their parents with fat tears running down her face, blood dripping from her cheek, and horror in her eyes. He watched as his father yelled again. He watched as his father marched up to him still body and just as he raised his hand, a bright red light shot out from behind him and slammed him into the wall.

“Igor!” Nikolai shouted as his brother descended down the stairs in a black robe and red cotton pajama pants with the Durmstrang insignia printed on it. His wand was high in the air.

Igor ignored his little brother, gently pushed past his mother, and walked right up to his father where he crouched in his own piss, moaning with pain.

“You broke my fucking leg, you fucking bitch!” His father screamed, spit flew in all directions.

Igor tilted his head down at him with a look of pure disdain, only letting out a rough sigh.

“What did I tell you I’d do if you ever came back here?”

His voice was so calm, so cold, it gave Nikolai chills.

Igor’s father gritted his teeth through the pain as he tried to stand up, swinging at his oldest son, but with one strong kick Igor broke the other leg.

“Igor!”

“Mom, take Nikolai and Natasha upstairs.”

“Igor, please,” she said as she waved the twins over, putting her arms around them protectively. “What do you plan on doing?”

Igor kept looking into the glossy eyes of his father, “Mom, take them upstairs or you all are going to watch me kill him.”

Only the cries of Igor’s little sister could be heard.

Finally, his dad spoke, “…son, have mercy on your father…”

“Mercy? You want mercy?” Igor growled, pressing his bare foot down on his father’s chest. “Did you give mom mercy when you beat her within an inch of her life? What about Natasha, when she couldn’t leave the house for three weeks because of the black eye you gave her! Or Nikolai when his arm was broken and in a sling because of you! YOU! The man who is suppose to be their father!”

Igor’s cheeks felt wet as he pressed down harder on the man’s chest. “Or me, who you use to practice the cruciatus curse on? Where’s your mercy now?”

His father was babbling, completely incoherent as he tried to reason with his son, but Igor wasn’t listening. He wasn’t listening to the pathetic cries of his father, or his mother begging him to not do it, or his little brother and sister crying into their mother’s stomach.

Time stood still. The air burned his throat like fire.

It was only Igor and his father.

“I should have done this years ago.”

#accepted app

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kristie-rp · 4 years

Text

Logan: Sentencing

“You are entitled to a lawyer. If you cannot afford one, one will be provided for you.”

Logan has his head in his hands as he’s told this, a redundant attempt to rub the sleep from his eyes. “How’s about you tell me why I’m even here?” he suggests, half-hearted, exhausted and crabby. He and Avalon had only been asleep for half an hour when the cops had showed up to attempt to knock down the door.

“You’re being charged with the assault and rape of one Dana Hewe.”

He blinks blankly at the cop, name badge gleaming on his chest. The light reflects off the interrogation room high-beam and shines right in his eyes. “The what of who?”

A line up of photos is put before him. They are the same woman, all of them, a fairly pretty, if bland, little brunette. She looks younger than him, and in the last photo, her eyes are bloodshot.

“I’ve never seen her before in my life,” he says, baffled. His life is not a movie, and yet here he is, accused of something disgusting and entirely unlike him. “Where’s the proof?”

“She picked your face out of a line up of photos.”

“Sure, but where’d my face even come from?”

The cop sneers at him. “Normally we wouldn’t say, but he requested specifically you be told – Arnold Regent.”

Logan has exactly zero clue who the hell Arnold Regent is, but he thinks two things: one, the dude has to be an absolute fucking tosspot to go around claiming credit like that.

And two, he is most likely absolutely fucked.

Arnold Regent, it turns out, is a prissy little rich brat a couple years older than Logan. He’s the whole package: artfully touselled bleach blonde hair, scheming dark eyes, a gleaming orange store-bought tan. The only time Logan has seen him before his court date, he was beginning to turn black and blue, red running down his face from a broken nose and split lip.

Logan may have been the one who caused this.

Not that you’d know this to look at him, of course. Arnold Regent, the absolute fuckwit, is all painted up a week after he got the snot pummelled out of him. The tan has been reapplied to cover the bruises, except for his face. There, the bandage across his straight nose – clearly he wasn’t shy about paying a plastic surgeon to fix a little break – and the fading violet around his eye tell a certain story. Either he’s a rich brat looking for a fight, or he leapt to the defence of some poor damsel, like the one tucked under his arm.

Dana Hewe looks extremely uncomfortable in the court room, is what Logan thinks. Arnie has an arm around her shoulders and she’s leaning against him, but it’s stiff and she isn’t quite touching, shoulders up somewhere around her ears. She’s looking anywhere but at Arnie, and that means she keeps looking at Logan. He catches her eye once and she winces, looking away immediately.

She doesn’t look at him again after that.

“The People versus Logan Damares, charged with one count of aggravated assault, and one count of rape,” the prosecution is saying when Logan tunes back in.

“Who’d I assault?” Logan murmurs to the state-provided attorney. He’s a tense looking guy in his twenties, probably fresh out of law school, with pitch dark shadows under his eyes.

“Mister Regent. He put up quite the fight.”

Logan snorts. “Didn’t.” When he glances over his shoulder, Avalon is glaring at him from straight behind him. He opens his mouth to say something, anything to her – maybe reassure her they’ll be fine, that law-school definitely knows what he’s doing – but she jerks her chin towards the judge and he doesn’t have much choice but to turn around and pretend .

They’ve been accusing him of rape, and he’s adamant he didn’t do it. So is law-school, down to the last, but Logan doesn’t entirely understand why. It isn’t like law-school is getting much out of this, unless he’s got a vendetta against Arnie. Logan squints at him, now that he’s thought of it. Law-school has been pacing for twenty-four and a half minutes. Maybe he does care more about winning this than Logan does. Or maybe he likes Dana, thinks she deserves real justice, even though she pointed the finger at Logan, who she’d definitely never met before.

“There’s gotta be something, some defence we can use. C’mon, Logan. Thursday the 17th. Where were you? We know you weren’t at Bizkit, or the alley beside it. You didn’t pay for any of the private rooms on site. Dana was there, but you weren’t. But saying you weren’t – proving you weren’t – that’s only half the battle. You have to have been somewhere else. There must be some proof of that. A witness, a photo, a goddamn receipt – work with me here!”

Logan is silent for a long while. Law-school isn’t pacing anymore, but there’s a particularly fascinating crack in the ceiling. It’s a flaw in this practically ancient court building, 260 years old and the oldest still-standing building in Port Lyndon. If the building were to go up in smoke, that’d be the weak point. Burning this room would collapse the room above it, and he imagines there’s a gas main running through the floor of the third storey. It’d create an explosion, he thinks. Take down the entire building and everyone in it, maybe some people

He sighs long sufferingly.

“There’s a video,” he says, at length. “It’s timestamped. Date stamped. The works. You’re not going to like it.” Avalon is going to hate it. You have to promise me you’ll stop, Logan. This – hobby of yours. It’s dangerous, you could go to jail. You could kill someone. You could kill yourself. He’d begged her for one more chance of it.

“Like it? If you can prove you weren’t responsible for this rape, I’ll love it!”

Again, Logan wonders at this mans motives. Maybe he should have him tested for insanity. Can he claim for a retrial or a dismissal of all charges if his lawyer is batshit crazy? He doesn’t know. “I was out on the coast,” he says, “Warehouse Row, you know, where the cliffs lead up to that lookout? There’s a bunch of decrepit warehouses there. Real dangerous place, that road, everything falling apart.”

“Everyone goes up there to hook up,” Law-school says. “If you and Miss Russell were up there, no one is going to care.”

He winces. “I wasn’t with Avalon.”

Law-school blinks once, twice. “If you’re cheating on her, I’m sure she’ll deal out her own form of justice once we get you off the hook for this unnecessary crock of – ahem. Series of lies.”

“I’m not cheating on her. I wouldn’t ever.”

Law-school rolls his eyes. “We all stray occasionally.”

“No. I don’t want to know about where you stick it when you get bored. No one would do that to her.” Avalon would rip off his dick if she thought there was a chance of him being unfaithful, he was sure. Besides, she was perfect for him, in all the right ways. Why ruin a good thing. “I was alone.”

“Alone on Warehouse Row. Fine. But if you were alone, why is there a video?”

Logan hesitates again, one last time. He imagines the things Avalon is going to say to him when this comes up in court in two hours, his alibi a crime in and of itself. He thinks of the video Law-school is going to have to pull from his phone as proof, and has to stop himself from sighing again. It’s a bad habit. He’s going to have to stop.

He’s going to have to stop that other thing, too, just like he promised Avalon he would. One last time, he promised. That’s why he’d been filming. One more time, for the memory, for the thrill, before they had to think about college and a future beyond post-senior year summer vacation.

He opened his mouth to admit it.

“Ballsy, ain’t ya, mate,” is what is drawled in his general direction later that night. They’re not in the same cell – that would be stupid, when Law-school had Logan admit to everyone and their mother that he definitely broke his highness’s nose, and has zero regrets about it, except maybe that the guy was rich enough to pay off a jury. They are in adjacent cells, thick vertical bars between them with gaps wide enough to allow an arm through. If Arnold steps closer to the cot Logan is sprawled on, he’ll be close enough for Logan to wring his scrawny neck. Not that he’s tempted, of course.

Much.

The silence stretches on, and Logan opens his eyes. He watches Arnie get more and more uncomfortable, restless and uncomfortable on a mattress less than an inch thick. “Oh, sorry, you’re talking to me? Didn’t realise we were mates, mate.”

Arnold takes this as an invitation, and sits up on the edge of the cot to address Logan more directly. Logan doesn’t do him the honour of making eye contact. “Coughing up to arson to get off a rape charge? Ballsy.”

“You said,” Logan says, hoping that’s the end of it.

“What’s it like, man? The thrill of it? Gotta be fun, setting it all on fire, watching it go up. Dunno if I could handle the loss of control, though. Wouldn’t do it for me. Maybe if someone was inside, though, that’d be interesting. That’d be worth it.”

Logan sighs, long suffering. It’s a bad habit. He has to stop it. He has to stop a lot of things. He sits up on the edge of the cot, and stares at Arnie, making eye contact as intense as he knows how. “Listen here: I’m not your mate. I won’t ever be your mate. People like you? You’re the only sort of person I’d ever set on fire. I’d knock out someone I don’t know, but you? I’d want to hear you scream. You’d be untied, in the goddamn warehouse or whatever, and the doors would be bolted shut. No hope of escape. And I’d stand outside, with a camera, catching last your screams as you die.”

He swings his legs back up onto the cot, revelling in the silence. “Night, Arnie, mate,” he snaps, and closes his eyes to sleep.

“I burned down Warehouse Sixteen,” he announces to the room at large, his last chance before the jury makes a call. “You’ve all seen the video. I burned it down for fun. No one was there but me. No one else knew I was there. No one was hurt. No one was in danger. I triple-checked, for whatever that’s worth to you people. I’m sure there’s a police report on that. It’s fine.

“And I didn’t assault Dana Hewe. I’ve never met her before in my life. I didn’t speak to her once before she apologised to me earlier.” And hadn’t that been a sight for the courtroom; she’d caught his arm in the door, ignoring the cuffs, and shot a sharp look at his lawyer. He’s paying off my college tuition if I say it was you, she said, but you know it wasn’t. And it wasn’t, which everyone in the room knew, though that’d be dealt with separately. Arnold Regend was a disgusting human being, the sort of person he sometimes imagined trapping in a building as he set it alight. The sort of human who raped a woman to frame someone else, to fuck over someone else uninvolved, all because his pretty perfect nose had to pay to be flawless again.

“I did assault Arnold Regent, though. On Saturday the 12th of August. I beat the snot outta him, and I wouldn’t change that. He came onto my girlfriend, the woman I wanna marry someday. She turned him down. He got handsy. I asked him to listen, he didn’t, so I broke his finger. And then his face. I had to wipe that goddamn sneer off. I’ll take whatever sentence you dish out, but the smarmy bastard – sorry – deserved it. That’ll always be true.

“I don’t regret the fire. I don’t regret the assault. I do regret that Dana has had to go through all of this bullshit – sorry – drama. The actual perpetrator should be charged, not me. And it shouldn’t be done in court. This didn’t need to be a show to boost some dick – sorry – jerks ego. Frankly, my greatest regret is that some dumbass frat boy with zero respect for anyone was raised by people who clearly aren’t capable of being responsible parents, if this is what they consider a success story.” He makes air quotes around the ‘success story’ and sneers at Arnie, then steps into the waiting arms of the security detail who escort him to and from the room, likes he’s a threat. Like they have to worry about him.

For good measure, he spits on Arnold Regent as they pass by.

“Maybe we should break up,” Logan suggests, quiet and defeated, all his bravado from the courtroom gone. Four years in prison seems like a lot – he’s eighteen years old; it’s just under a quarter of his life! – and he doesn’t want Avalon to have to deal with it. Avalon is staring at him, so he goes on: “It isn’t fair on you. I mean, the second anyone hears you’re with some guy who’s in prison for beating a guy half to death, things fall to shit for you. It’ll ruin your job prospects, college applications, everything. Better to be the chick who broke up with the violent asshole the second he showed his true colours,” he says, voice dripping with bitterness. “Then at least you look like you have taste, that you know better –”

Smack!

“What the fuck!” he exclaims, lifting his hand to press against his jaw. It’s going to bruise, he knows that; Avalon has always had a hell of a punch. It’s one of the many things he likes about her.

“What the fuck is wrong with you,” she says, flatly furious. It isn’t a question.

He answers anyway. “We don’t both have to be fucked over with this. I’m just being realistic – this is what’s best for y –”

He catches her fist this time, before she can finish the job of breaking his jaw.

“If you ever,” she starts, then stops. Her teeth are grinding; he can hear them, the steady, indescribable grit of it. She starts again, her jaw audibly clicking as she opens her mouth. “If you ever get it in that thick head of yours that you know what’s best for me, ever, I will make your life hell. This is four fucking years, Logan. It’s nothing. Not when this is my fault.” He opens his mouth to protest, but she stops him. “No, it is. If that prick hadn’t been so fucking handsy with me, you wouldn’t have kicked his ass. And yeah, it’s shit that you got caught with the coke and your alibi is a being a fucking arsonist, but you still met Regent ‘cause of me. Besides, conjugal visits are totally a thing. We can make this work. We will make this work. And if we don’t, I’ll just break your heart in four years.”

Logan stares at her, a soft smile on his lips. He’s a fucking sap when it comes to her, and he knows this. She knows it. There are probably people in China who know this, and they don’t have a clue who Avalon or Logan are.

But for now, they’re young, and they’re in love, and they don’t owe the world a damn thing, so he kisses her like he’s drowning and she’s air, and hopes conjugal visits aren’t going to be a rarity.

#kwrites #kristie's writing #kwriting #kristie writes #ft. logan #ft. avalon #ft. arnold #ft. dana #tw arson #tw assault #tw rape mention

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