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onecanonlife · 3 years

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careful son (you got dreamer's plans)

Wilbur gasps back to life with mud between his fingers and rain in his eyes.

Wilbur was dead. Now, he is not. He can't say that he's particularly happy about it.

Unfortunately, the server is still as tumultuous as ever, even with Dream locked away, so it seems that his involvement in things isn't a matter of if, but when.

(Alternatively: the prodigal son returns, and a broken family finally begins to heal. If, that is, the egg doesn't get them all killed first.)

Chapter Word Count: 7,295

Chapter Warnings: swearing, injury, blood, aftermath of (temporary) character death, mild disassociation, slight s.uicidal ideation, references to past abuse

Chapter Summary: The emotional fallout is intense, but they don’t have time to stop and deal with it. Wilbur doesn’t particularly like where they decide to hole up, but beggars can’t be choosers.

(masterlist w/ ao3 links)

(first chapter) (previous chapter) (next chapter)

Chapter Twelve: nowhere to run

The sun is too bright in his eyes. Too bright, and wrong, somehow, that it should be shining like this. Should still be shining, after the loss they’ve just suffered, after watching his brother crumple to dust in front of him. But the sun hardly cares for things like that, so they all stumble out of the hole in the ground that serves as the entrance to the spider spawner and beyond, and the daylight surrounds them, unforgiving.

“Where do we go, what do we do,” Tubbo is chanting, and Ranboo is muttering under his breath, a continuous litany of, “I can’t believe he’s gone, I can’t believe that happened—” His own lips feel glued shut, his throat devoid of sound. His skin buzzes.

(the two images interpose: Techno hanging from the vine, head at an unnatural angle, Techno wavering on his feet, blood pouring from his throat, and there is a flash of light and there is ash all at once, as if the first caused the second, as if instead of healing him, shoving his soul back into a body clinging to life, the totem burned him up from the inside out, and unlike the phoenix there was no rebirth)

“We can’t stay here,” Puffy says. Her eyes are wide, and her hands are shaking, but her voice has the same determined cant to it as it always does. “We need somewhere to hole up.”

“And where is that supposed to be?” Sapnap demands. His breathing is unsteady. “Where the fuck are we supposed to go after that? Where isn’t the thing gonna be able to reach? With, with Dream being, being, what even was that? Why was he—how was he—?” He breaks off, sparks crackling at his fingertips, and his face is a mask of distress, of questions

(was he always like that and did I not see or did something happen to him did something make him like that is that my friend or is there something inside of him something behind his eyes that is not him at all and if that is the case how did I not notice how did I not notice how did I not save him)

that Wilbur feels he recognizes. Or would, if he let himself. If he let himself care.

His eyes drift over to Phil. Phil, who stands silently, blood dripping from his wings, a thousand old injuries reopened by thrashing thorns. Who stands with Tommy in his arms, Tommy, who is curled up as tightly as he can reasonably manage, his face tucked into Phil’s shirt. Trembling. Quiet.

(he will die and I will kill him, the Egg says, and I have already begun, and you cannot protect him, you do not have the strength, except by what I can grant you)

“Church Prime,” Puffy says. “It’s the only place that might be safe.”

“Who’s to say it would be?” Sapnap snaps. “You saw it in there! The vines have never moved like that before, and Prime knows what else it can do now. And maybe the Egg wouldn’t be able to get in, but who’s to say that would stop—” He cuts off again, face contorting.

His leg is beginning to hurt, now. All of him is, actually, now that his adrenaline is wearing thin, now that the horror is sinking in, but it’s concentrated in his leg in particular, and he looks down to see that his left pant leg is all but shredded, blood dripping down in steady streams and splattering on the grass by his feet. The vines got him worse than he thought, then, and he bites his lip against the sting.

He’s had worse, though. He’s had so much worse. This is practically nothing, and Puffy and Sapnap are still arguing, and Tubbo and Ranboo are huddled together, eyeing the vines around them with deep suspicion, unmoving as they are just yet, and Phil is silent, and he’s going to stay silent, because Wilbur recognizes all too well the strain in his eyes, the way he’s holding onto Tommy with a death grip.

(he’s watched two of his sons die, now, and Techno will be back, will still have two lives left, but that does not heal the hurt, does not assuage the pain of seeing your brother, your son, your family die in front of your eyes before you can lift a finger to stop it, and Phil’s eyes shine with a grief almost beyond what Wilbur can understand. except he understands all too well, in the end)

He’s had worse, and someone needs to step up.

(the old mantle settles across his shoulders, and if he closes his eyes it’s like nothing’s changed at all, and the sun sets on the city he is determined to give everything for, still standing, walls still strong)

“Boxed in like a fish,” he croaks, and Puffy and Sapnap turn to him as one. “That’s what we’ll be, if we go to Church Prime. Whether it protects us in the moment of not won’t matter once we run out of supplies. We need somewhere better situated. Somewhere we can defend, that might withstand a siege, if it comes to it.”

Puffy makes a frustrated gesture. “I’m open to suggestions,” she says. “The prison, maybe, if we have to? We could probably keep people out as easily as—ah, shit, Sam.” She pulls her communicator out and taps out a quick message, and then frowns. “It’s telling me it can’t go through. Why isn’t it going through? Sam had all three lives, he should be—”

“Admins can read private messages,” Phil murmurs. “Wouldn’t surprise me if Dream could fuck with the whole system, whatever the fuck he is.”

Wilbur reads between the lines. Techno, for the moment, is unreachable. He processes the information and moves on, refusing to let it get to him, refusing to let himself be overpowered by

(Techno’s unreachable Techno’s unreachable Techno’s respawned and he’s on his own and they can’t talk to him can’t get to him quickly and what if something went wrong what if something happened)

emotions.

“Sam will make his way to us,” he says. “I’m vetoing the prison. Like hell are we staying in there. Other thoughts?”

“What gives you vetoing power?” Sapnap asks.

“Somebody needs to make a decision,” he says, and it is with strength he doesn’t feel, confidence he is only pretending at, a force of command that comes from some unknown place, since he feels as though he is miles away from himself, “and I don’t see you coming up with anything. Either help or stop complaining.”

Sapnap’s face reddens, and he opens his mouth, to argue, no doubt, but then Ranboo breaks in with, “Foolish, maybe?” and hunches his shoulders when attention turns to him. “Sorry, it’s just, I’m pretty sure Foolish isn’t, um, a big fan of the Egg or anything, so maybe he could help?”

Wilbur has no idea who the fuck Foolish is.

“Nah, he’s too far out,” Tubbo says. “It’ll take ages to get to his place. And we need somewhere close, but not too close, so we still have a good place to fight back from, right, Wilbur? If we leave now, the Egg’ll just take over the whole SMP with nothing to stop it.”

“My thoughts exactly, Tubbo,” he says, and again, it is just like the old days, and they are standing atop the L’Manberg walls, and Tubbo has just said something particularly clever, and warmth and pride curl in him before he remembers where they are, what they’re doing. They need to decide, and soon. They’re just hanging around near the entrance, and sooner or later, someone’s going to come after them, whether they let them go at first or not. “Is there anyone else who has a good position, location-wise and resource-wise?”

“Wait,” Puffy says. “Eret’s castle.”

“Eret’s castle doesn’t have doors,” Sapnap says.

“No, but I stopped by earlier to see if they wanted to join us,” Puffy says. “They weren’t there, but the grounds were completely free of vines. And sure, there aren’t any doors, but between all of us, I’m sure we could make some. Eret’s got plenty of supplies, last I checked.”

Eret. The name evokes a wealth of associations, most of them unpleasant. His first instinct is to reject this idea like the last, to avoid placing their lives in the hands of one who has already betrayed him, who led them all into a death trap, who almost ended their revolution in one fell swoop. But Puffy has a point. Eret’s castle ticks all the right boxes: it’s defendable, well-supplied, and if there are no vines to clear, all the better. They’ll have to build doors, but between the lot of them, that’s easily manageable.

(a wealth of associations and many unpleasant but there is Eret offering them supplies offering their fragile rebellion help and they tried so dearly to redeem themself and he could not have seen that then wrapped in his own shadows as he was but perhaps he can see it now perhaps he can better appreciate it, give a little more benefit of the doubt, and if he is given a second chance after everything after committing the worst crime of all then who is he to deny them absolution?)

(another memory, more blurry: he is scared but stalwart as they go through the motions, and he does not want to die, is terrified of that endless void, but he knows that the server needs a leader and his living self must be that leader, and Eret is here, and Eret agrees, and Eret acts out their part, and Eret is trying so hard, and he cannot see their eyes behind their glasses but he imagines that if he could, he would see a fool’s hope in them)

“Eret, then,” he says. “We go to Eret.”

And no one disagrees. It’s strange. They have no reason to listen to him, really. They have far more reasons not to listen to him, more reasons to think that following his lead will end in disaster than otherwise. But Puffy nods, and Sapnap backs down, and Tubbo and Ranboo both look to him for direction like it’s the war and he’s in charge of child soldiers once again. Phil looks to him, too, but his expression is inscrutable, and only a slight tightness around his eyes shows that he’s in any pain at all.

So they go to Eret. Staggering through the grass, tripping over vines that still don’t move, thank Prime, and then along the Prime Path, and his leg hurts worse with every step, pain jolting up into his hip, it seems, and it’s not long before he’s walking with a limp. But they’re all hurt in some way, so he hides it as best he can. He can deal with it when they’re safely behind stone walls.

And then, Tommy says, “Put me down, I can walk.”

Wilbur glances over. Tommy’s face is still buried in Phil’s shirt.

“You sure, mate?” Phil asks softly.

“Yes, I’m fucking sure,” Tommy snaps, louder now, turning his face outward, pushing against Phil’s chest. His cheeks are flushed, his breaths coming short and fast, and he’s trying to pass it off as anger, and maybe part of it is. But Wilbur knows him better than to think that that’s all. Knows him better than to think that he would have let Phil carry him in the first place if he was alright.

“Okay, then,” Phil says, and swings Tommy down. Tommy wavers for a step, but slaps away Phil’s hand when he extends it, muttering a sharp, “Fuck off.”

And then they keep going. Tommy doesn’t say anything else. Wilbur keeps glancing at him, but he’s refusing to meet anyone’s gaze, even Tubbo’s. And—that’s another thing that’s going to have to wait. He wants nothing more than to stop now and make sure that Tommy’s going to be okay, but they don’t have time, and the general in him will not call for a halt until the retreat is over, until he is sure the enemy is not biting at their heels.

(retreating from Dream once again, and it is familiar and not, the same and not, and history runs in a circle, echoes and rhymes)

Eret’s courtyard is indeed free of vines, just as Puffy promised. Wilbur half-expects them to be nowhere in sight, based on what Puffy said, but they are standing right there, next to a skeletal horse they’re frantically saddling, and they’re checking their communicator every now and again, with the jerky motions of someone who doesn’t particularly want to but can’t make themself stop.

Then, suddenly, they look up at the sky. Wilbur follows their gaze to the flock of crows wheeling overhead, a dark mass of beating wings, each bird barely distinguishable from the others. All of them completely, eerily silent.

Eret stands there a moment. Just staring. Wilbur can’t tell what the look on their face is, but their shoulders are tense. And then, they look back down, and realize that the lot of them are there, stumbling in under the gate, and they visibly startle.

“Hey, Eret,” Puffy says, before they can get a word in. “Can we crash? And build some gates?”

“What,” Eret says. “What is—Puffy, what is going on? How did Dream manage to kill Sam and Technoblade? Is he—” They run a hand through their hair, and then start striding forward, their cape flaring out behind them. They haven’t said anything about him yet, haven’t reacted to his presence. “He’s out, isn’t he? I was going to come and see, but he’s out?”

“He’s out,” Puffy agrees. “We were kind of hoping you’d help us out on this one.”

“Of course,” they say quickly. “Of course, anything you—anything you need.” They’re rattled, clearly, more than Wilbur has ever seen them, perhaps. “I just—how did this happen? I thought the prison was secure, I thought—are you all okay?”

“Aside from the obvious?” Puffy says. “Yeah, we’re great. You haven’t been around much lately, I don’t know how much you know about the Egg and all of that, but that’s an issue too, along with Dream. And some other stuff that I’ve got no idea about, that we really just kind of need to all sit down and talk about.”

“The Egg? I’ve—I’ve heard of it, I think. I’ve been elsewhere for a while.” Their lips twist into a smile that isn’t quite a smile. “Doing a bit of soul-searching, you might say. Found more questions than answers, unfortunately. Alright. I can get you all whatever you need, you can absolutely stay here if that’s what you’d like, but what was that about gates?”

Right. This is taking too long.

Wilbur still feels a bit outside of his body as he steps forward, but that’s alright. He’s limping, but the pain is distant, and he can let his brain work on autopilot, let his mouth move on its own without regarding the consequences, without thinking too much about

(this is Eret and you know them and they betrayed you and you hurt them and now you’re back and here is a test here is a true test it shouldn’t matter how they react to you you shouldn’t care for their opinion but you do you know you do though you pretend you don’t pretend they’re nothing but a traitor to you but you are a traitor to yourself and you know that between the two of you you are the worse and here you both are and you only need one more and everyone will be back together again like the old days like the old days those good old days)

what happens next.

“Right, then,” he says, straightening his spine and stepping up to be visible just behind Puffy, to the side and a few feet back. Eret’s head whips toward him. “To summarize: the Egg is bad, Dream is also bad, they’re now working together, also with Bad, Techno is gone, we’re all in rough shape, a mind-controlling potentially demonic entity is likely to try to take over the server, and also, I’m here, despite my best efforts. Does that paint enough of a picture for you, or should I elaborate further?”

Eret stares at him. He stares back, doesn’t let himself fidget. He’s putting the general on display, and it has never felt more like a disguise, like yet another mask,

(and didn’t he tell Tommy he wasn’t going to do this anymore?)

but a familiar one, one that’s almost comfortable. He can force himself into the general’s shoes and worry about tactics and battles and numbers and strategy, and tuck the rest of himself away for when there’s time for it. Can think of this as just another alliance to be made, a debriefing to be held rather than

(Eret traitor friend ally enemy the place in your heart is curdled and sour and you do not know if you are capable of starting anew)

and his losses are statistics and cold facts rather than

(Techno’s eyes golden and glittering and then they go dim and pale red pale and staring the light in your brother’s eyes gone out and it is not the first time you have watched a brother die in front of you but Technoblade never dies is never supposed to die never to go to dust never and you cannot make sense of it cannot make sense of the world turned on its head)

“Wilbur?” Eret asks, after a very long moment, and he doesn’t understand why their voice breaks in the way that it does. “You’re—it’s you? Not Ghostbur?”

He spreads his arms, lifting an eyebrow.

“Do I look like Ghostbur to you?” he asks.

“No,” Eret answers right away. “No, that you do not. Um, has this been a thing, or…?” They trail off, and Wilbur can’t figure out exactly what their feelings are, but it’s too late to back down, even if he wanted to.

“For a bit,” he says. “Not for too long. Can we move on? We’ve got bigger issues to deal with at the moment.”

He means multiple things, with that. He means, there’s bigger things to worry about than why I’m here. He means, there’s bigger things to worry about than our history, and as so long as we’re on the same side for the moment, it can’t matter right now. He doesn’t know if Eret catches all of that, but whether they do or not, they nod, seeming to steady themself.

“Of course,” they say. “I—for the record, it is good to see you, Wilbur.” There is genuine relief in their voice, a tone that says they’re actually glad he’s here, more than glad, even, and he really doesn’t have time to unpack that at the moment. They need a plan, and fast, and they need some goddamn gates. And medical attention, probably. The cut on Puffy’s head looks nasty, and Phil’s wings are still dripping blood, and it’s difficult for Wilbur to look at them for too long,

(grief rises up guilt rises up crushing choking your father is grounded and it is your fault)

but it concerns him, how little Phil appears to care for their current state. So there’s that to handle, and it’s almost too much, almost. Almost too much for someone who has spent the majority of the time since he’s been brought back to life cringing away from meeting people, all the confidence he once displayed gone, shrinking, left in the void or in Pogtopia or on the podium from which he announced his own defeat, perhaps. But even still, he remembers how to be the general. He can hide in the general, present the general on the outside, be useful even while he thinks he might be on the verge of collapse, internally. He has been a general, and so he shall be again.

What comes first, then?

He pulls out his comm, scrolling through the messages. There are quite a few in the general chat from just after Sam’s death message, people from all over the server demanding to know what’s going on. His eyes drift over Techno’s, then, and he winces, but keeps reading. There are even more messages after that, capitalization usage increasing dramatically, and his eyes trace over familiar names, a pang in his heart. Niki. Fundy. Quackity. Several from Eret as well. Some from names he doesn’t recognize, like this Foolish person, and someone named Hannah.

But then, they all cut off. There have been none in the past half hour. Since they escaped from the Egg.

Out of curiosity, he taps out a few words: dream and egg have teamed, regrouping at eret’s. Upon hitting send, the screen goes fuzzy, giving him an error message he’s never seen before. So comms truly are down, then, and it’s probably just as well; Dream likely knows where they are, but if he doesn’t, there’s no reason to give him the information.

(and do these old allies old friends deserve to learn of your return from cold words on a screen do you not have the courage to face them yourself face your son your son you have not seen your son)

(the last time he spoke to Fundy, he disowned him. he doesn’t know if he still has a son)

(if he does not, he has no one to blame for himself, and perhaps that is why he is too cowardly to check)

“Right, then,” he says, looking back up. “Gates are the first priority. They might not do much against whatever the fuck that thing is, but it’s better than nothing. Eret, I assume you’d know the best way to go about it?”

Eret’s lips quirk into a slight smile, one that is, perhaps, slightly sardonic.

“It is my castle,” they agree. “The more hands I have, the quicker it will go, but I can get it done.”

“Anyone who’s not bleeding profusely, help them with that, then,” he says. “Anyone who is bleeding profusely—I assume you’ve got pots somewhere, Eret?” Eret nods, gesturing toward the inside. “Anyone who is bleeding profusely gets a pot. Once we’ve got that all covered, we’ll reconvene, come up with a plan for where to go from here. Everyone got that?”

He gets a few nods, and no one dissents, so he’ll take that as a yes. His gaze travels to the kids then, standing clumped together, and Tommy’s eyes are still shadowed, and Tubbo is shifting his weight between his feet, and Ranboo looks lost, awkward, and he wishes he didn’t have to ask anything more of them. But that’s not how wars work, and this has certainly turned into a war.

(child soldiers once again, and how history echoes)

“Tubbo, Ranboo, I want you on the gates as well,” he says, and tries to soften his tone at least a little bit, even if that’s all he can do. “And then afterward—Tubbo, I need you to go through with all of us exactly what you know about—what did you call them? Dreamons?”

Tubbo looks slightly miserable, but he nods. “Right,” he says. “I can try to ward the gates if you want. With, um, anti-demon stuff. I don’t know if it’ll work. I guess last time we didn’t manage to do much of anything at all.”

“Anti-what,” Eret says, but Wilbur shakes his head.

“We don’t have time for that. Tubbo will explain later. We—”

“The fuck am I supposed to do, then?” Tommy breaks in, crossing his arms. “You haven’t given me a job.” He glares, but it is so very obvious that it’s all a front, all a show, and Tommy’s expression dares him to challenge him, but Wilbur thinks that if he does, he just might break something in him. Tommy has always been so much more fragile than he presents himself as, so much more fragile than he likes to believe he is.

(despite it all, despite it all, he is only sixteen, only a child, a child grown old before his time but a child nonetheless, and now a child who watched his brother die for him, an estranged brother perhaps but still a brother, and Tommy has always cared so much and so deeply, no matter how much he pretends otherwise)

He hasn’t given Tommy a job, and he doesn’t really intend to, because Tommy, of all people, needs to sit the fuck down and rest for a moment. They all deserve a break, but in this moment, Tommy is the one who needs it most, and also the one least likely to accept as much.

If the general gives the order, Tommy will follow it, he knows that much,

(because he made his brother into a soldier he made his brother into a soldier and soldiers follow orders)

even if he’ll be angry at him for it, but Tommy angry with him is a sacrifice he’s willing to make. And perhaps directing his anger at him will help. Perhaps it would be better for Tommy to be angry with someone within reach rather than someone out of it.

(because Tommy is hurting, and the cause of that hurt is not here, and so perhaps if Wilbur offers himself he’ll feel better, will feel more in control, because Tommy needs control, because his abuser is out, is wandering free, and his abuser has killed their brother and told him that it is his fault)

But then, Phil breaks his silence.

“I’d like him to stick with me,” he says, with a smile that is obviously strained. “I’m not going to be able to reach everything myself.” He makes a vague gesture toward his wings, still dripping blood, and there is so much of it already drying on his feathers, sticky, tacky, almost blending in with the darkness of the feathers

(but stark against the grey-white of exposed bone)

“Why the actual shit—” Tommy starts.

“Good idea, Phil,” he cuts him off. “Tommy, help him with the wings, would you?”

“Why do I have to—”

“You too, Wil,” Phil says, and his mood sours immediately. “You think I don’t see that leg? C’mon, Eret, show us to the pots.”

When faced with that, he has no choice but to agree, really.

(he wouldn’t have ignored it. he wouldn’t have. He knows better than to leave a wound untreated in wartime. Even if something whispers at him that he deserves the pain, even if the bite of it brings him closer to reality. But his better sense knows: pain is not the penance that is asked of him, not a recompense that will do anyone any good)

**********

They meet again half an hour later in Eret’s throne room. Half an hour later, and his leg is bandaged and tender and no longer an open wound, and Tommy is frowning and refusing to meet anyone’s eyes, and the state of Phil’s wings is still bothersome, because he didn’t let either of them touch them beyond what was necessary,

(and he recollects countless nights spent running his fingers through soft, silken feathers as his father told him how to preen them, told him that it was a sign of trust, an activity that only family, only flock is allowed, and now Phil will no longer let them near him, will no longer even take care of them himself and it makes him sick to his stomach to think of what has been lost)

but they are no longer bleeding, and that has to be what matters.

The throne room is not the best location for this, he thinks. It feels awkward. But it’s a room big enough to fit everyone, which is the point, big enough to fit Puffy, presence looming and forehead now bandaged, to fit Sapnap, fidgety as he is, like a caged, snarling animal, all restless energy. Big enough for Tubbo, for Tommy, for Ranboo, for Phil, for Eret and for himself, and big enough that there is an obvious gap at Phil’s right side where someone else should be standing.

Eret eyes her throne, glances at everyone else in the room, and then seats herself at its base. It’s a pithy gesture, meaningless, but Wilbur has more important things to do than to call her out on it, even though the existence of the throne itself grates against him.

“Let’s call this meeting to order, then,” he says, and Eret frowns. Perhaps she doesn’t like that he’s calling the shots in her own

(ill-gotten, dearly kept)

castle, but tough. He’s brought out the general for all of their sakes, so the general is what they’re all going to get.

(it’s a mask again and masks crack but he can keep it up for long enough he can he can they need a leader so he will lead he will lead them)

(you were so good at compartmentalizing, once, go good at shoving it all away in boxes in dark shadowy corners never to be opened to gather dust and cobwebs and faded recollections but the boxes cracked and the demon’s escaped and Pandora was too weak to stop them and it all ended in a bang and he cannot tell if hope remains but that isn’t the point because the box is opened and once opened it is not so easily closed and you are putting on a show a lie and lies come back around again they always do and you should know better than to pretend at strength you do not have you will lead them to ruin again ruin and gunpowder smoke and what gives you the right)

“Yeah, alright,” Puffy says. “Can we start by talking about—whatever that was? What were you talking about, dreamons? What’s a dreamon?”

“That sounds like a made up word,” Tommy mutters.

“I wish it were made up,” Tubbo says, and he winces when all eyes turn to him. But a moment later, he straightens, setting his shoulders squarely, holding his head up high. “I’ll tell you all what I know. Even if that turns out to be not as much as I thought.” He pauses, clearly struggling for words.

“Start from the beginning,” he suggests, and Tubbo nods at him gratefully.

“Okay, right, the beginning,” he says. “In the very beginning, me and Fundy were messing around, and we found some old books. We went through them for a laugh, and we learned about these things called dreamons.”

“Wait, that’s what they’re actually called?” Tommy interjects. “Like, properly?”

Tubbo shrugs. “It’s what the books said,” he says. “We weren’t about to argue over names. Even if it did seem like a weird coincidence. But yeah, that’s what they’re called.” His voice falls into an odd cadence here, recitative, like he’s telling a story, and Wilbur crosses his arms, gripping at his elbows. “They come from the darkness of the void, lurking around the edges of a server’s code. Once they get in, their only goal is to cause chaos and destruction. They corrupt everything they touch, and they can possess people and turn them into their puppets. They have unknowable powers, because they’re a sickness, a rot, like an infection in the code of the server itself. It’s really, really difficult to get rid of them, but it can be done if you have the right tools. Or—” He blinks, stuttering a bit, his voice landing more naturally. “We thought so, anyway.”

“What does this have to do with Dream?” Sapnap asks, stopping his pacing, looking to Tubbo with an expression in his eyes that hurts to look at, a bit, wobbly and desperate and pinched, like he already knows the answer but hopes that he’s wrong, hopes as much as he is able, even though he knows it will be fruitless.

Wilbur has put the pieces together. As best he can, anyway. And Sapnap’s not a stupid man. He can see where this is leading.

“Dream got possessed.” Tubbo sighs, gaze drifting toward the floor. “It was a whole thing. Honestly, we were surprised nobody else noticed. But we—we performed an exorcism. And it was really scary, to be honest. But it worked. We could see it leave, all oozy and black and gross, and Dream was better afterward! He was! So we thought we got it out.”

“But it tricked you?” he asks.

“I don’t understand how it could have,” Tubbo replies. “It’s not—it’s not like the kind of possession that you see in a TV show, where the demon can pretend to be the person or something like that. It’s obvious. It’s too—it’s too wrong to blend in, if that makes sense. It made his voice go all funny and deep, and the way it moved—” He shudders, and then continues, miserably, “The way it moved, there’s no way you could mistake something like that for a human. That’s why we were so sure it worked. Because afterward, he seemed back to normal.”

Something about this doesn’t make sense.

“Tubbo,” he says, wheels spinning in his mind, “when was this?”

Tubbo blinks. “Manberg days,” he says. “Um, that’s why we never told you about it, I suppose.”

He barely bats an eye at the reference. It doesn’t make sense. Because he has sensed that wrongness, as Tubbo puts it, has been sensing it from the moment he set foot in that prison cell for the first time. On some level, he knew that something was deeply wrong, even if a demonic presence was the last thing he would have guessed. But if the whole thing happened during—during that time, and the signs of possession were as obvious as Tubbo says, he would have noticed, wouldn’t he? He had plenty of interactions with Dream during that time.

(unless his own shadows stretched long, stretched far enough to cover Dream’s, to cover the thing piloting him)

But no—his shadows were of his own making, not supernatural. If anything, his mindset should have made him more receptive to suspicious wrongness, not less. So what—

(Dream smiles, and you know what it’s like, to have something whispering in your head, he says, once you let something in, there’s no going back)

“Maybe the first bit was a fakeout,” Phil suggests, arms folded, head tilted. He’s perplexed, which is worrying; it’s rare to come across a being that Phil knows nothing about. “It made itself obvious to lure you in so it could slip under the radar. Faked leaving to put your guard down, maybe.”

It’s plausible. But somehow

(and Dream stands atop the Egg and he says, he says, I tried to fight at first, but it turns out it was right all along, and he says it he says it like it’s separate from him like there is not something else something other speaking from his mouth after all and he tried to fight it he tried to fight it and what does that mean)

“They’re the same,” he breathes, and doesn’t know what he means, not quite yet, “they’re the same, and the Egg controls people, and he was talking about fighting something, about giving in—”

He runs a hand through his hair. Shakes his head.

“Wil?” Phil asks.

“Oi, Wilbur,” Tommy says, almost at the same time. But he needs to—he needs to focus as the pieces click into place, faster than he can process, and he has a conclusion but not the words yet—

He holds up a hand.

“Tubbo,” he says, “you said it can corrupt things. What did you mean by that?”

“I dunno, really,” he says. “It talked about it in the books some, but it was all weird metaphorical language. Couldn’t really makes sense of it. We were more focused on the bits that told us how to get rid of them.”

(he says, you know what the void is like, and Tubbo says that they come from the void, and)

That’s alright. He’s not sure he needs a hard answer to that, because he thinks that if one were to describe the feeling of the corruption, it would be

(it is dark and it is peaceful and there is static at the edges eating away at what makes him himself eating at his soul at his sense of self and it is what he wants, to be nothing, and he does not imagine what it would feel like if it were not what he desired, if he tried to resist it, resist the void all-consuming, all-devouring, resist the void that takes all things into itself and is never satiated)

something familiar.

“Alright,” he says, and steeples his fingers together. “Let me paint a picture for you. Someone gets possessed. You exorcise the thing. But these things can corrupt, you say. So maybe you get rid of the thing itself. Maybe Dream’s pretty much back to normal. But maybe it leaves little bits of itself behind. Maybe he’s not possessed, but maybe that doesn’t matter so much anymore. Maybe it changed him regardless. Maybe it’s still changing him, even though it’s no longer there. Maybe a corruption took root, and there wasn’t any going back from it.” He tilts his head, closes his eyes. “Suppose that the Egg is the same type of thing. Something that forced its way through the cracks of the server, something that’s been smart about it, biding its time. The things that Dream was saying reminded me a lot of what the Egg was doing, you know? Manipulating people, making them into things they aren’t, or into their worst selves.”

He strings the words together as he goes. He’s not sure he’s getting his point across. He used to be so much better at this.

“Wait, so you’re saying you think he isn’t possessed?” Sapnap asks.

“I’m saying we don’t really know,” he answers. “Not unless we get it from him. But Tubbo’s the expert here, and if he says Dream’s not acting like he’s possessed, I believe him. But even if he’s not possessed outright, that doesn’t mean there’s no—influence, perhaps.” He keeps his eyes shut; the darkness on the back of his eyelids is a natural one, but he can almost pretend that it isn’t. That it is darker, deeper.

(void)

“He was right that I know what it’s like,” he says. “I’ve felt the Egg in my head. And I was in the void for—a long time. It felt like forever. I know what it feels like, and there’s some of it in him, I think. Him and the Egg both. They’re the same kind of wrong, the same kind of unbelonging. I’ve never been possessed by a demon before, but if it’s made up of void stuff, that’s the sort of thing that stays with you. Whispering.”

He opens his eyes. Everyone is staring at him, varying expressions of horror on their faces.

He goes back over his words. In retrospect, he can see how they probably came off sounding.

“Wil,” Phil says softly.

“I’m fine,” he says, not at all convincingly, he’s sure.

(once he starts thinking of the void of the peace and of the rest it’s hard to stop even though his desires are now tinged with red and he knows better than to listen but he cannot help himself)

“This is all speculation, anyway,” he continues. “Might not matter at all, in the end, what the particulars are. We just need a way to stop them. Can dreamons be killed, Tubbo?”

Tubbo takes a moment before replying. “I don’t think so,” he says. “Fundy might remember better. But I think the only thing in what we read was the exorcism.”

“Which doesn’t help us much if Dream’s not actually possessed,” Puffy says. “Unless it might work on the Egg? If the Egg’s a—a dreamon too?”

“Worth a shot if we can get to it again,” he says, “but I don’t like risking so much on a maybe.”

“The less we mess with forces beyond our understanding, the better,” Eret says suddenly. She frowns, pushing her sunglasses further up her face. “As I said earlier, I’ve been away a good bit recently, so I haven’t been tracking the Egg’s progress as much as perhaps I should have. But I did notice an increase in activity—well. It was shortly after we tried to resurrect you, Wilbur.” She inclines her head toward him. “I fear that in our efforts, we might have interfered with something we shouldn’t have interfered with. Weakened a barrier of some kind, between our existence and—something else.”

She speaks with a strange kind of gravity. But her words make an unfortunate kind of sense.

He doesn’t look at Phil.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Tommy states. “What the fuck does that even mean?”

“I’m with Tommy on this one. What are you talking about?” Sapnap adds.

“We’re getting off track,” he says, snapping his fingers. “We’re going about this wrong. We don’t have enough information, and we don’t have enough power. Those are our problems. How do we solve them?”

“The obvious would be to get the word out,” Puffy says. “Comms are down, but we can go by word of mouth if we have to. Kinda risky, with the amount of vines on this server, but the nether portal’s right across the way. No vines in the nether, I think.”

“I have lots of old books myself,” Phil chimes in, eyes skyward. “Might be something in there to help that I’ve read and forgotten about. And I’ve got another source of info I’ve barely begun to go through. Old shit I found. It might be worth a shot.” He looks back down. “We need to go get Techno anyway.” He says the last in a tone that brooks no argument, and Wilbur doesn’t try, even if it’s perhaps not the most tactically sound option.

(he wants Techno back too, wants to lay eyes on him, hold his wrist in his hand and count his heartbeats, each one a reassurance, because he knows what it is for a brother to die and come back but that has never made it easier)

“It’s better than nothing,” he says. “Alright, I’ve got a plan, then. Some of us go to the tundra, get Technoblade, and go through whatever books Phil has. Some stay here and fortify the defenses as best we can using what Tubbo can remember that he thinks might work, and a couple of us go around through the nether and tell as many people as possible what’s going on. Gather allies, resources anything else we might need.”

It’s not much of a plan. But based on just how outclassed they are, just how little they know, just how much exhaustion shows in their faces, it might be the best plan they’re going to get for now. To throw themselves back into a battle so soon would be folly.

It never sits well with him to bank so much on a hope, though, a mere possibility that things will go their way.

(but certainties were ripped out from under him the moment Dream killed the unkillable, the moment he saw his brother crumple to ash before his eyes)

“Great,” Puffy says, grimacing. “What could possibly go wrong with that?”

The silence that greets that statement serves perfectly well as a response.

He closes his eyes again. The darkness is no comfort.

#mcyt #dsmp #dream smp #dsmp fic #wilbur soot #tommyinnit #philza #tubbo #eret #ranboo #captain puffy #sapnap #alivebur #/rp #cat writes fic #long post #c!wilbur angst tag

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bro-strider-hate-blog · 3 years

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YOUR TAGS ON MY SIS POST??? IMMACULATE

I will include my tags again but only because i cant get enough of myself and not to sound like im tooting my own kazoo but this is the one time in my entire life that ive been objectively correct in every way

Lengthy and unrelated thing under the cut:

Let me talk about canon bro for a second 😌 even though its barely and tangentially related to this and you dont have to read it <3, in fact i would encourage you not to read it i just wanna run my mouth. People love to use him as a cheap villain in their dave angst fics which is like... hilarious to me. Like i get it, since hes abusive he must also be misogynistic and homophobic and transphobic and also genuinely hates dave and revels in his suffering right? Lmeow no, hes just some guy and despite everything he is in fact trying his best. Hes naturally intense and aggressive and this doesnt translate well to child rearing, especially since his one goal is to make dave strong enough (physically and mentally) to Survive whats coming. The random sneak attacks ? The traps littered around the house ? To keep dave on his toes and buff his spatial awareness. The cameras ? To monitor his progress (if hes not up to standard then we’ll just up the “training”) and / or film some puppet snuff (puff ? Snupp?) so he can keep running his dumb website and like provide for them or some shit , or ig to buy random crap and throw it around the house. Who cares if the kid sees the porn anyway its just puppets, plus hes seen way worse at that age and turned out fine (no he didnt). Dave has to be resourceful , he has to be creative and think on his feet , lets have impromptu rap battles and scrabble games. He has to know numbers like the back of his hand (idk why this is even a phrase do any of you memorise what the back of your hands looks like) to effectively utilise his sylladex.... actually nobody even uses that shit idk why bro was so insistent on it. Dave is his protege, his charge, dave is NOT his friend and hes not gonna let him forget that. He teaches him all he knows, in the way he knows. Making comics, mixing music, ironic jokes, being cool and getting shit done. Actually its GOOD that the kid is terrified of him, if hes the scariest thing in the room then dave wont fear anything else. Lets spar then, if dave wins then hes trained him well. If dave loses then hell become resilient. Either way he has to be strong or else hell die, training is necessary. Its either this or failure and failure equals death. Do your own laundry, ration your own food, become independent as fast as possible because i wont be around to take care of you forever

Nothing bro does is without reason, neither is it “sadism”, its all very logical to him despite being horrific to any sane person because his only friend is the mansplain-manipulate-manspread puppet that raised him and he has awful coping mechanisms that barely stretch past beating himself 1. up 2. off. Like he kept his baby alive to the point where it could keep itself alive (kind of alive) and thats a win to him.

That was my thesis on why bro is not a bigot like ,, he makes porn of fucking smuppets, that gives him zero chance to fetishize The Ladies. I doubt he has porno mags littered around the house its just endless plushie dicks and asses (and the two puppets handcuffed together were legit kinda funny like Why). So why would dave have internalised homophobia if it did not stem from his brother ??? Acting as if his only friends werent exuding anti gay vibes, like christ, john “im not a homosexual” egbert, him and rose’s competitive flirting gag (before they found out they were related >.>), just generally the three of them accusing each other of being gay, yknow, as kids do (jade is exempt from the argument we love jade here). Things were just more homophobic back then and its not like bro and dave had a sincere talk about gender and sexuality in the 13 or so years they lived in the same house like why would you even come out to your younger sibling if you could just not !!! Lol !!! I could be getting all this info wrong lol so correct me if im wrong but bro has this cute comic artstyle and it was about someones charge (? Sibling?) straight up dying and the saw guy makes an appearance the end , like there was no sex or gore or whatever but if you look at sbahj the second page literally has an incest sex joke like where does dave even get his material from , which online sites has he been trawling , well haha its not bros job to monitor his kids search history lets ignore it and move on if the kid wants to be gross and make dumb jokes who is he to judge , spread your problematic wings and soar into the cancel clouds little guy

Anyway heres a disclaimer: if youre gonna clown on this post and tell me im an abuse apologist or some shit just understand that i have a lot of free time and love being a huge asshole when provoked but like youre so welcome to add to the discussion i love bullying my favourite character bro strider by steamrolling him we’ve talked about trans rights for too long now is the time for trans wrongs

#//1 #sorry for airing my grieviances on your ask addie Q_Q i hope you do not mind </3 #Bro strider #sometimes i do want bastard trans rep like we cant all be purrfect #Heres more bastard trans guys in homestuck: eridan cronus sollux karkat equius gamzee caliborn hal

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nebraska-is-a-myth · 3 years

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My Eret Headcanons

These are just my headcannons for C!Eret and the potential of them being a descendent of herobrine and what that could entail for his and Philza’s relationship. This keeps me up at night thinking about it, so you can read this and suffer with me.

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Eret met philza first out of them all.

It was a long long time ago when Phil was known as the fearless young warrior that had been the first to slay the mighty dragon. Before he had retired to become a shitty father.

They had met in the void: Phil was on the hunt for herobrine, determined to put a stop to the terror he and his army inflicted onto the overworld, and Eret had been born there, alone. When Eret was younger he remembers wandering alone in the void. Their family had cast them out a few days ago for something they honestly can't even remember, but they knew they could never return. The void was nice, it was calming. Eret was neither warm nor cold, neither hungry or full, she could feel sleep calling to her, but her legs strode on nonetheless. The void was known for being endless and bland, numbness seeped into his every being with each breath. Walking for eternity was an option Eret had been avoiding for some time now. But then Phil had appeared from the endless mist and he had been so kind, offering warm touches and happy smiles. Nothing Eret had experienced back home. Eret hadn't understood Phil back then, not yet being exposed to the language of the overworld. But when Phil held out a map that looked similar to the grand fortress of the void, Eret had paled and shook their head frantically. Phil had calmed the small creature enough to understand that their panicked whimpers had been a warning. Eret had only been a small child back then, so they clung to Phil’s leg when he started walking towards the direction of the palace, ignoring Erets incomprehenable blabbering. Phil was confused at first, but continued on walking when the little creature wouldn't detach itself from him. When Phil had gotten more uncomfortable, he shifted Eret onto his back with a little protest from the child. On the small journey, Phil had started to try and teach the little child a few touches of English. Eret had learnt how to say “philza” with a little difficulty, and Eret had responded with a noise that Phil had understood as “Alastair”. Before long they arrived at the fortress and Phil could sense Erets discomfort. Instead of going through the main entrance, Eret hurriedly lead Phil to a gap in the wall of the fortress and mumbled words of encouragement to his new friend. Phil handed ‘Alastair’ a shiny golden ring from a pocket in his robe and placed it in Erets small hands with a soft smile and a comforting embrace. Eret wasn't sure what was happening at first when Phil’s arms had wrapped around them, it was warm and Phil smelled nice. Contact wasn't something anyone back home considered appropriate outside of the family home, even then it was rare. So Eret melted into the touch of phils soft arms, having not been held since they were a toddler. Eret still wasn't sure what Phil was doing, but they decided they liked it. When Phil pulled away, Eret tilted their head, hoping he would understand their confusion of the action. They watched Phils eyebrows knit together and his smile falls only for a moment before softly repeating the word “Hug”. Eret nodded, saying the word back confidently, bringing a smile to Phils face. Phil brought Eret in for another hug before standing back up and nodding. Phil had looked happy, so Eret stayed put, understanding that Phil would come back for Eret and his ring.

After a while of waiting for philza’s return, Eret grew worried and made the decision to follow their new friend into the depths of the fortress. But by the time Eret made their way into the grand fortress, both Philza and the tyrant Herobrine that had ruled the land with an iron fist had disappeared, leaving only a glowing portal in the great hall where blood stained the floor. The whiring of the glowing portal intrigued Eret, having only seen these portals from behind heavily guarded gates where soldiers like their father had been sent off to war under the orders of Herobrine. Would it be safe if they went through? Would they be punished on the other side? Would they even survive the journey? Eret glances at the ring in their hands, the purple light of the portal glints off of the shiny metal. The ring is far too big to fit on any of Erets fingers, but Eret runs their fingertips across the beautiful inscription of what appears to be a magnificent pair of wings much like Philza’s. They cannot read the writing, but something deep down tells them that this meant something to Phil, it looks old and worn but it has memories, memories that Phil entrusted them to keep safe. Eret looks around at the big empty hall. The void was lonely, it was dark and endless, Phil had been the first soul they had seen since they had been cast out. Spending a lifetime alone was something nobody wanted, it was something Eret themselves feared the most. It’s decided then, Eret must go through the portal and find Philza, returning the golden ring to their new friend. Eret took in a deep breath of hazy void air and took a step into the swirling magic.

For a second Eret thinks they've made a mistake. They feel like the magic is twisting their insides into slush. Their eyes flutter closed for a second, clutching onto the ring and the obsidian beside them before their being involuntarily pushed out in a bright harsh light. Erets eyes snap shut, every time they try to peel their eyelids open they feel like someone is burning a hole into the back of their head. It hurts and they don't know where they are and they can feel panic rising in their chest. They’re scared. All they can do is curl into themselves and stroke their finger over the indentations across philza’s ring. The heavy breathing goes on for a while, the feeling of loneliness once again creeping up on them. That is until they feel something press against their shoulder. They flinch as it comes in contact with their skin, fear of attack taking over their actions. The touch comes again but softer this time, in the hopes that it may be Phil they allow it to guide them into a warmer, darker place. They fall over their feet a few times, but they make it nonetheless. When the light dulls enough for them to open their eyes, fear sparks through them once again. They find himself trapped behind rusty iron bars. They’ve been locked away. No, no this can't be happening. They want to go home, to the void, anywhere but the disgusting cell that reeks of death and ash. They mutter words that the guards definitely don't understand and in retaliation they shout back in a language much harsher than Phil had used. They take to shouting Philza’s name, hoping they would recognize it or the man himself would hear them. He doesn't. Eret is alone, they don't see philza again.

At least, not until november 16th. The message on her communicator brings back memories of a place Eret had buried a long time ago, but she doesn't have time to dwell on it because in a flash the ground beneath her feet is gone and a blast sends her flying off the ground. Eret lands with a thump and a twisted ankle, but he’s sure his injuries are only minor compared to those closer to the blast. They’re a good distance away from the town center but they can see techno and tommy in the distance shouting about something that Eret cant bring themselves to listen to. Their back rests against an old spruce tree, and they sit staring at their communicator.

Wilbur was dead.

A choked sob rises in Erets throat. There were too many thoughts racing through his head. Panicked voices scream at him that Phil is going to recognize him, that he’s going to see the light behind his sunglasses and demand for Erets exile or execution. No one else knew of her past, how she was born in the void, a hybrid pretending to fit in with the humans. The rational side of them knew that so many other people on the server were hybrids, but even then some people feared techno for his bloodlust, and bad for his demonic nature. Eret couldn't be locked in a cage again, not after she worked so hard to move on and forget her past. The fear of her past life fuels her irrationality. But Phil was never like that. No he remembers that period in the void clearly, he remembers warm hugs and soft touches, and the ring. Eret rubs his thumb over the engravings on the ring that now sits comfortably on one of his fingers and takes in a deep shallow breath. This ring had been his rock for the past however many years they spent in the overworld. Human time works different from time in the void, so it never really was their strong suit. But they remember the aching in their bones of being in uncomfortable positions for long periods, and the dirt under their fingernails after a long day of construction. Through it all Eret had their ring and memories of someone who cared for them, someone to remind them that things change, sometimes from the better and sometimes for the worse. But was that all just an illusion?

Phil had shown them kindness and compassion.

But Phil had also killed wilbur.

Everything comes crashing down on Eret all at once, the one thing stable they had in their life collapses on them and suffocates every hope they ever had. The ring burns on their finger, the metal now glinting with lies instead of promises of a better life. God they were so stupid. They knew the likeliness of ever finding Phil again were slim, let alone be remembered by the man, but that hope and longing of someone to love them kept them going all these years. And now that hope was going to be the death of them.

Eret hears the screams of Niki and his friends and pushes his worries to the back of his mind, right now he must fight for the remains of what once was his home.

That night as the fighting finally comes to an end, Eret makes a decision. He decides to distance himself from philza, not ready to face the pain of being forgotten or exiled. He wasn't particularly happy with isolating himself either, but fear does strange things to a person.

But then ghostbur comes to him with desires of bringing back Wilbur and of course Eret will do whatever she can to bring back her friend. Sure soot may have hated her guts, but Eret wants nothing more than to hug him and feel his presence again. Not that she disliked ghostbur, but the phantom was a painful reminder of what once was and what could never be. And of course Phil wants to get involved with the resurrection of his son, of course he does, so Eret pretends he doesn't know Phil past what others had said about the man in passing conversation. Phil seemingly does the same, referencing so kindly how “Alivebur had resented him” and for a second Eret thinks they’re going be found out, that their time is up. But it never happens, Phil remains oblivious and Eret is constantly on edge.

It’s gotten to the point where Erets anxiety completely takes over and before they know it they’re at Technos arctic base and Ranboo is whispering something into Phils ear.

“I can't in good conscience let you onto this property Eret.”

No no please, Eret needs to do this, Eret needs to do something good, they need to get wilbur back. They need to..

“You're a king, and kings have power over others. It’s nothing personal.”

It is personal, they know it is, it's what they all say. Phil doesn't trust them, ranboo dosent trust them. They need to prove themselves, they have to, they can't be alone again. They just can't.

Maybe, maybe if she shows phil her eyes, if she reminded phil of the times before the smp, the times before nations and wars and sides. Before any of this where Eret wasn't the traitorous king and Phil was still the angel of death. Maybe Phil would remember Alastair, the child who helped him in another lifetime, the child he made a promise to, a promise to keep them safe.

So Eret takes a chance, he takes a chance with Ranboo, deciding to trust the Enderman hybrid, and he takes a chance with phil. She takes off her glasses, her crown tumbling down into the snow after them, and she pleads with Phil to let her help. She pleads not to be left alone again.

But Phil looks right through them. He stares into their whitened eyes and pushes them away just like everyone else, whispering jokes to Ranboo as Eret walks away with tears rolling down their cheeks. The promise made all that time ago had meant nothing to the man who Eret yearned for the most, they were left alone with nothing but a ring and false promises once again. Eret may have thought themselves unlovable and helpless in that moment, but they knew they still had a duty to his friend. To the boy who needed a father most. She was going to get Wilbur back, not for herself, not for Phil, not for l’manburg, but for Fundy. So Eret wipes her tears and sets off for snowchester, Eret could prove to Phil she was worth something, that she was worth remembering.

Eret had met Philza first out of them all, but Phil was the first to forget them.

#the eret #eret #dream smp #philza #dream mcyt #mcyt #I just love c!eret #they fill 90% of my brain #nebraska speaks

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lokbobpop · 3 years

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Energy

energy. [ ĕn′ər-jē ] The capacity or power to do work, such as the capacity to move an object (of a given mass) by the application of force. Energy can exist in a variety of forms, such as electrical, mechanical, chemical, thermal, or nuclear, and can be transformed from one form to another.

Energy is from Greek energeia "activity, operation," from energos "active, effective," from en "in" plus ergon "work." Specialized senses of the word energy include the power that comes from sources such as heat or electricity, and the ability of sources such as heat or light to do work.

Energy ener gy en er gy en erg y

Writing the word energy

This whole world word has been all about supply energy to the elite in the heaven existence that sit we have have had endless time of over and over again pain turmoil sadness we have all experienced so much pain hell its not come to am end and it feels like who how did I allow this for millions and millions of year to happen to me how did i not see what i was doing why didnt I stand up before why did I lefty my thoughts trapped me to believe i was so small wheni was so large i was =like god all this time and never knew it for well anu i see i hold something against him but i did allow this to happen i see i need ot get over this as I have revenge of he should spend years stuffing the way so many have suffer ed in there li if has he seen this does he really know what we have been though why he just turned a blink eye does he is he sorry for what he did im never heard an apology or should there ever be one but i do see if he can get over what he has dont for millions of years than i can for sure because what he did was so wrong and i assisted him by living in my own fear.

Reading energy

Im am mostly energy a eat my energy to move i need food and water all the time to live where ther was a time we didnt need anything an we will move back to this of no energy needed and i look forward to watching this happen being a part of this to happen to put things back to how they should be.

All my personalities are energy based thats all they are i created them and then let the mind use them to guide my life so i did have ot take responsibility for all my chooses i just let the mind take over and i never saw until Desteni what i was doing i never saw how this affected me my physical which i love so much now how it has been through hell and probably some parts will never heal but thats ok i can still heel my still ove me and all of me until we all love each other this can be i can make it be for mw and all.

Power to have no power in your phone or in your car or something you need ot plug in ot i get energy and not having any power to support you but be full of energy your self but cant utilize that energy as it was for another lol

The build up of energy where you build it up to a point and you let it go with anger energy and you scream and shout and you let others know how angry you are how much energy you have built up within yourself and hear me roar ive dont this so many times with my husband and my daughters let lose rage basically energy ive not delt with and unleashed it on all of them and trin now carries this energy i passed on and she needs my help which i will support her with.

Electric energy bill cost so much money its 300buck a month here and little bit less in in oz when we should all have free energy for all it should be free.

I have no energy at the moment because ive don’t so little of the last 10 months but sit around i just doesn’t have enough to do much more than this is like ive run myself down to a standstill i cant do anything everything makes me feel tired a 5 min walk is just to the bus stop and im worried it will take months to get back to normal plus all my ailments the moment my knees my feet even my ankles yesterday i dont feel physically great for sure its like my body is saying you’ve done so much this is how it is for me stop what you are doing now help me get over it.

Saying energy

Fear of not getting back my heath and energy

Energy bills

Thoughts of im always tired will this go away or will i always be tired will my physical recover from the energy I have put apon it will it heal and will i be back to normal.

Reusable energy is the only way to go stop the fossil fuels we dont want ot need these types of things its over we need free reusable energy we need to stop the government’s pushing these sort of corps onto us no more fuel no more coal enough.

I need ot build my energy up slowly bit by bit to get better.

Does this definition support me no fear of planarity problems with the energy we use fear of not stopping all my energy sometimes comes up until i take charge of it fear of my physical having no energy and not heeling the anger of energy i had released on trin which she now carries

Energy emerge me

Energy

To move one physical within to feel myself within the physical to ground myself in the physical to embrace all i am with calmness self determination os self change within a moment

To let other accumulation pass through me and out not to land within me or on me not for me to hole it but just be aware of it.

I will live this word with supporting myself by using my energy to support and feel my physical to get fit to feel batter to move myself accordingly whats best for all i will use it wisely.

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pinksweatergettingbetter · 7 years

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aight

lets ends this

i love that he's still trying to cheer her up with her terrible crossover idea

phoenix is such a sweetie

“...so we may put this dead lawyer walking out of his misery”

hear hear

just kill me already

“she's now slain two high level clergymen...”

one of which was a confirmed rebel but HEY whatever ITS NOT LIEK YOU KILL THEM IN GENERAL ANYWAY

who gives a fuck this trial is janked

“bahlgilpo’kon hell- the realm of eternal agony”

wow eternal agony is the bottom hell??? thats like the first hell in dante’s hells; youre soft as runny shit kooraheenism.

“there she will suffer the endless punishment of ja’gar by the galuun of Puhlmo’ten.”

SUBTITLES PLEASE

he was killed during the rite but they only found his body like two days later?!?!

what the fuck!?

...and wait a fucking second, he wasnt there when we were fucking investigating BULLSHIT

BUUULLLLLSSSHHHIIIIIIT!!!

two consecutive murders constitutes a serial killer??

every time sadmad sighs and shakes his head i lose a year of my life

Rayfa’s voice is so fucking unfitting; she’s got the voice of a 30 year old woman and she’s supposed to be a whiny-ass 14 year old

do these people know anything about casting??

is it really that hard to get a 14 year old to say a few lines? i was voice acting (not professionally obvs) when i was 14. i sucked, but i was doing it, and there’ve been younger kids working on real shows.

anyway

welp looks like this mcfuck is using a fake name

someone get on that

I'm sorry you’re surrounded by such incompetence, Rayfa. and i mean that. i like you now, youre kinda funny.

phoenix: plus, yesterday, someone told me how the divination seance used to work

phoenix fucking sucks at keeping secrets jesus christ holy fuck just SHUT UP ABOUT THE REBELS YOU MORON

if he says let it go and move on again I'm going to fucking scream

“haha! the police overlooked the clergy tattoo on the back of his neck!”

directly below the stab wound. the clergy tattoo. that has significance in their country.

Why do the Kooraheen Police suck so much ass? They can’t catch a running suspect, and apparently they’re all blind.

HOW DOES THE JUDGE NOT FUCKING KNOW A RELIGIOUS SYMBOL FROM HIS OWN FUCKING RELIGION?!?!?

[insert nahyuta eats (peach emoji)ass joke]

“aren't they utterly different shapes?”

...a... peach... and an upside down peach?!

nahyuta

im gonna blow your mind

this is called a handstand, here, do it with me

lazy ass parents naming their kid “real name”

fuck this joke country

this is some ‘who's on first’ bullshit

RAYFA LUSTS FOR BLOOD

yeah it was freezing on that mountain, of course your estimate was wrong.

i knew this was coming...

hebLINDED HER WITH SCIENCE

BEEP BA BOO BA

“this article is small in size but huge in importance!”

just like my d––

How... did this work? They did a great job of hiding that wound...

also no blood at the “scene of the crime”

yeah not suspicious at all

once again the prosecution blames the detective for something they couldn’t have helped :/

GUARD YOUR ASSHOLE EMA, GUARD YOUR ASSHOLE

HOLY SHIT

INSERT REFERENCE TO ABOVE PEACH JOKE

loud ass clock inside a secret hideout? good one, rebels. super well done.

ahhhh

now that is clever. i like that

although, considering the length of that statue’s beak, he should’ve been impaled right through his body, so.....

you were close, SOJ

glad to see more clever twists though.

game ruins everything with blatant hints

there are other cases where they can tell when two weapons have been used on the same wound

why cant they tell now?

stone sharp enough to cut skin??

your hideout is fucking death trap

good going rebels

youre using serial killer wrong... again

thats a lie, nobody likes swiss cheese

LAY OFF CHEESE YOU PIECE OF SHIT

ILL RIP YOUR ASS OUT

“what you said is total bullshit!! heres what happened; this, this this. and since I said it ,its true! without any proof!!! SO THERE”

phoenix: VALID POINT!

sadmad: bullshit excuse

judge: sounds legit, overruled!

“jeez just toss me an Axe if its that bad...”

“plotting your escapee from this sacred hall?”

yeah well just run out

“you would pin a crime upon the dead, who you know tell no tales?”

did you just forget the whole

soul pool thing or

are you just stupid

aw baby here we go

stop saying 30% you dont know shit

oh my god

whoa whats he doing with the magatama

“wait... i think i saw something just now...”

what, phoenix

what did you see, hmm?

“the power of prayer! yes... it uh... helps you... install listening devices in your secrets base uuhhhhhh...ITS NOT WEIRD

“She has a way of putting me at ease...”

(weeps) my babies

(sigh) its the wife, get on with it

“long years of ascetic training have sharpened my ears”

god the training is more useful to Athena than it is Maya. this is depressing.

make like a mollusc and clam up??? who says that???????

boy you sure fuckin suck at this Mr. Inmee

judging by that KAAHHH Tahrust should have a deep voice, and DD had a deeper male voice blip... why aren't they using it? they've already implemented singing blips and tutting blips, did they forget about the extra deep blips?

or are those reserved for demons?

he is a ghost...

...how far along is behleeb anyway? either I'm blind or the sprite artist forgot to give her a baby bump.

hey yeah! she's barely pregnant! her character art shows that! so its not so much of a stretch that she could be running around killing rebels. Plus, she hasn’t been pregnant for two years...

...of course, its not her, it’s rUHEEL NAYMUH, but still. she’s not far along enough to be inconvenienced by her child.

potato potahto tomahto egg salad!!

stop praying at me, nahyuta.

dont you fucking dare...

dont you even fucking dare

THEY DARED

I SWEAR TO FUCK

i swear to fuck

so. youre gonna blame maya. for the actions. of YOUR OWN GODDESS.

WHO’S GREAT AND POWERFUL AND MYSTICAL AND WISE AND PERFECT.... UNLESS SHE’S BEING CHANNELED BY A DIRTY FOREIGNER?

i just i cannot express how angry this makes me. it doesn’t make any fucking sense and it’s complete and utter hypocrisy. it’s even worse than before; before they were suggesting that the person dressed as Lady Kee’ra was killing rebels in her name, if it wasn’t outright her. Now they’re suggesting it was LITERALLY HER, and remember, these people are UBER RELIGIOUS, and they still have a problem with THEIR IMMORTAL GODDESS IN THE FLESH exacting her divine punishment against people THAT ARE HARMING THEIR COMMUNITY ANYWAY???

yes, vigilantism is dangerous. but it gets a little more fucking complicated when you suggest that it’s the legit actions of an ACTUAL GODDESS.

and even if this is the corrupt government just trying to cover up deaths (which it is) why didn’t they just step in and go “Yeah, another Lady Kee’ra murder. All hail the marvellous goddesses. er diarrhoea kooraheen.”

it would be a lot easier and a lot less messy than taking a kid to court. why do they even want Maya out of the way, anyway? She didn’t know any of the rebels, and she posed no threat to their corrupt government. Yeah, Zealot’s dead, but they literally could have just hired another crazy assassin.

Unless there’s a REAL GOOD FUCKIN REASON for all of this, I call bullshit, bullshit bULLSHIT

i think it’s time to let your head go and move on to another room sadmad

at the same time

...plus they legit just forgot their own lore.

maya can’t summon Kee’ra if she doesn’t know what she looks like.

that was so easy i didnt have to even press on statements; thats how easy that contradiction is. thats how easy it is to remember something stated five minutes ago, and how easy it is to remember how your own religion works. you fuckhats.

oh hey i just realized Tahrust really does call Behleeb his “lovely wife”

aw. how nice. if only they didnt decide to scapegoat maya.

doesn't matter your intentions; you die if you scapegoat maya. you die by my blade.

you ok pal. is an alarm clock really the source of an evil laugh.

“indeed! we leave the alarm switched off at all times!”

why would you even have a clock with an alarm on it in a secret base anyway?? and how did phoenix manage to play it in the hideout if the alarm was switched off?

“those distinctive taiko drums”

fuckin’ finally

ive been waiting for that stupid watch to come back for AAAGEES

of course there was a reason maya would mention traditional japanese instruments...

y’know it’s funny that he would even make that fuckup in the first place. if he’s a plumed punisher fan, he should know how the theme song goes. his wife was at least a big fan, meaning he’d probably have heard the opening enough times to know that Taiko drums weren’t part of it. Furthermore, if he was banking on the fact that the two themes sound similar to pass off the deception, then it was a huge mistake on his part to define the sound as Taiko drums; thats just a needless detail that could get him caught out, which it did.

and if he just didn’t know, well... again, useless detail. always bad. always be vague if you wanna get away with shit.

ah... at least in death, Raheel Namer didn’t have to suffer the Plumed Punisher theme song.

i love that phoenix refers to the show by it’s full title. that’s adorable.

now what’s really confusing me is that that Photo of the fam is stated to have been taken during the Feast of whatever. Which is the same time-frame as Reely Real Name’s death. He’s alive in the photo, Behleeb is in the photo, and the Judge and his family are nowhere to be found. But all those things were huge parts of the case, and they couldn’t have eaten before or after because of the whole ‘you can only eat Ghingil for three hours on that one special day’.

am I missing something or going nuts??

that said I'm so glad i can finally present this photo. it’s been gnawing at me as much as the watch thing.

“trademark topknot”

OH PLEASE JUST LET IT END

ffjglk dlg ljlgkd hey Tahrust do me a solid and just tell them how you died ok

please i have a family

i have stomach ulcers

off-brand logic

i totally forgot that was in this game too

wow.

“hmm, there’s really nothing to suggest a murder other than the red water in the spring, which only Maya would see and probably not question (considering this isn’t her religion and she doesn’t fuckin know how that shit works) and said spring probably empties somewhere, since it would be swampy otherwise. let’s see... i can KILL MYSELF TO GIVE THE RED WATER A REASON FOR EXISTING or do literally anything else... WELP, BETTER FUCKIN KILL MYSELF. ALL HAIL THE REBELS!”

...well at least he saved maya from contracted a blood disease.

tahrust must be pissed that his death came to naught when his own rebel pals gave the secret key to a guy who sold them out in five seconds.

never gets to meet his child... never gets to see the revolution come to fruition... never gets to live happily with his family... all because he couldn’t think of any other solution to protecting that shitty hovel behind a rock.

kinda tragic.

wish i was less angry

“there was no weapon at the inner sanctum...”

did everyone just forget the giant bloody murder statue???

pohl’fuckya sadmad

babe... oh no... don’t give yourself up like this

thats sad

dont

i feel the sad now

shit

“abbot inmee!! summon a physician at once!!’

HES DEAD

WAY TO RUIN THE MOMENT WITH UNINTENTIONAL COMEDY DUMBASS

“but murder sanctioned by the crown is still murder”

what’s murder sanctioned by a goddess? apparently you guys are ok with that one. oh unless it’s a goddess being channeled by a foreigner.

soerry im bitter about that one moving on now

he lunged at you from behind the stone slab?? nice trajectory moron

hang on a second he put reereenaymee’s body in the plaza before prayer time... with the dagger still in him??

HOW DID NOBODY NOTICE THE FUCKING DAGGER

“you need not frame the accused for your crime”

for once Sadmad says something smart

honestly... suicide really wasn’t the answer. even if it was to protect your wife there were,,,,, so many other options

for example, realname’s last moments, as we saw, made it look like he was killed in the Plaza of devotion. You could have so easily made it look like he was murdered there, by some rando, during the rite. The kooraheen police fucking suck at their job, so it wouldn’t matter. but no; you had to die, and blame Maya.... because she was foreign. A foreigner who came to you for guidance and shelter.

STOP AGREEING WITH ME SADMAD, I DONT LIKE YOU

“You must use your law powers to make sure no more innocent people suffer under this shitty law!!

...like Maya did!! .......because of me!!

i love that the excuse is like “there’s no way she could prove it was self defence in this government...” to make it all tear-jerking and point out how horrible and corrupt their legal system is...

...and yet, if we remember Reunion and Turnabout, which also included channeling and self defence... It was EQUALLY impossible for Maya to be cleared of the crime on self-defence charges!!

pot calling the kettle black, japanifornia!

“lol sorry for almost getting you killed cause i couldn't think of a better plan than kill myself”

yea thanks tahrust, coo-al

“I ask that you look after my wife”

er she’s... going to jail... she’s... been outed as a rebel... you do get that right

fuck you Tahrust, you made her cry

“now you can watch over me from the world beyond”

he cant actually, since they retconned spirits being conscious in the afterlife. good going, capcom.

oh man that cutscene was goofy. except for the crying

fuck you Tahrust

Maya: :D hOW y'all doin?!

also according to maya Tahrust didnt leave any regrets behind which means that he totally gives no fucks that his dumbass plan endangered Maya’s life and made his wife cry. Dick.

He doesn't even regret missing the birth of his fuckin child. Ass.

Sadmad: I owe a debt to you, one that I will return––

Me: Eat a rotten egg.

Sadmad: Wha-–

Me: Go on, master of putrescence. Eat a whole rotten egg. Consume it shell and all. You heard me. Insert the egg into your mouth and chomp down. Times ticking, I’m waiting.

i forgot about the stupid butterflies

“So I was thinking, Nick, the legal system here is really stacked agains the defence! It’s really unfair!”

YA DONT SAY

listen to this happy music playing as everyone is forced to come to terms with all this sad ass shit. also it appears we just forgot about that tiny matter of the government literally putting hits out. Rayfas dad. is doing this. Nobody gonna address that?? No? Ok

Maya: QUIT BEINA LIL BITCH

wait what

what is this new sprite

eurhg i dont like it put it away

thats not maya thats a husk of evil

wow. rayfa didnt even know why maya was here training. the bullshit continues to flow...

Maya: deciding what is true and what is false for your people...

the actual truth and lies, right? RIGHT? MAYA???

ergh this is so... corny? schlocky? it feels forced

“Sorry for almost getting you killed anyway VIVE LA REVOLUTION”

Yay! It’s vore man!! i kinda missed his stretchy face.

oh well that

thats just a really anticlimactic reveal of Dhurke

like tada! there he is! and he's gone! whatever; he's just been talked about in hushed whispers for the last case or w/e!

awww the bailiff thinks he can catch a running rebel!! so cute~

“The Steel Samurai vs Dhurke the Rebel!”

MAYA. THE LAST FIVE MINUTES WERE DEVOTED TO EXPLAINING THAT THE REBELS ARE THE GOOD GUYS. WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM???

i love that they keep hammering in that “maya has stayed maya”

see guys??? dont you just feel the magic of the trilogy??? ITS THERE GUYS WE SWEAR

Welp, thats it for that case. Now back to America, to visit Athena and BK, and hopefully to read a more enjoyable storyline...

#sulking over SOJ #soj spoilers #soj spoilers obvs]

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