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alectothinker · 8 months

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the unwanted guest reference compilation (revised, thank u tltblr!) (scroll down for additions)

every day i thank tamsyn muir for her planet sized brain (and the new short story). will be quoting heavily from TUG so spoilers under the cut!

woo this is a long one. (will probably miss stuff, im a non-western zoomer)

References are in the order that they appear in TUG ->

Pal’s mask being a reference to his shattered and glued-back-together skull:

“This is PALAMEDES SEXTUS, whose mask is distinguished by being plain, of shattered wood clumsily taped or glued back together.” (page 480)

Pain (slight pain) (jk. pretty good amount of pain)

2. An Inspector Calls by JB Priestly:

“IANTHE Oh — Inspector. How terribly good of you to call so late.” (page 483)

Ok there are so many other parallels to AIC in this story (the setting, the stage play format, overall message) and I’ve written briefly about it here

3. This better not awaken anything in me [original clip from community thank u @what3ver]

“[Ianthe gayly describing infinite strip poker with harrow] Yuck. I hope that hasn’t awakened anything in me.” (p492)

(she’s tucking the image away in her mind palace as we speak)

4. Ace attorney (i LAUGHED)

"Palamedes slams both hands down flat on the lid of the upper coffin, then thrusts his arm out to point an accusing finger at Ianthe. PALAMEDES you're avoiding the question!” (p493)

Insert ace attorney OBJECTION dot gif here

5. and right after ace attorney, Monty Python:

“IANTHE No. It's a fair cop, guv'nor. But, in this instance, society really is to blame.” (p493)

Probably a reference to Monty Python's Flying Circus, "Church Police". Quote taken from tvtropes:

Man: All right, it's a fair cop, but society's to blame. Church Policeman: Right, we'll arrest them instead.

6. Looney tunes:

“IANTHE (Brightly) That’s all, folks! Back after the break.” (p495)

Here’s a clip of porky pig saying it bc why not: That's All Folks HD

7. Hamlet

“VOICE ‘Use every man after his desert, and who should ‘scape whipping?’” (p500)

Original quote:

“Use every man according to his desert and who should 'scape whipping? Use them after your own honor and dignity, the less they deserve ... the more merit in your bounty.”

notes: very hot of dulcie to know shakespeare

8. Haters meme (?)

does this even count as a meme at this point. Idk but i love that dulcie said it.

“VOICE Truly, wonderful news for my haters.” (p501)

9. The bible (ofc)

“PALAMEDES (as if reciting) ‘And her body was like the chrysolite, and her face as the appearance of lighting, and her eyes as a burning lamp; and her arms, and all downward to the feet, like in appearance to glittering brass.’” (p502)

Palamedes quotes Daniel 10:6 when Dulcie reveals (?) herself to him. I'm not super familiar with the bible, but depending on dif sources from google (lol), the original quote describes either Christ or the angel Gabriel appearing to Daniel:

"And his body was like the chrysolite, and his face as the appearance of lightning, and his eyes as a burning lamp: and his arms, and all downward even to the feet, like in appearance to glittering brass: and the voice of his word like the voice of a multitude." (from the Douay-Rheims Bible)

ok finally stuff that might be a reference but I havent been able to figure out a lot has been figured out! additions from tltblr here:

p481

> probably nothing, but any significance re pal’s calling card being the skeleton hand? probably a reference to the skele hand harrow made him in htn (via @guyrunsbackwards)

p482

The Almond Room?? Is this anything. It seems so weirdly specific lol

“IANTHE the master will see you in the Almond Room, sir.”

crowdsourced possibilities:

the almond room representing babs' borrowed amygdala, which is involved in processing memory, decision making, and emotional response; would make sense for the investigation/interrogation to take place here (via @confusedbyinterface)

may be a reference to the game Clue, where the individual rooms in which the mystery happens have specific names (via @the-light-of-stars);

a reference to cyanide, which smells like almonds (@the-light-of-stars, @satans-poptarts); + @winged mentioned that in a lot of early 20th century whodunnits, someone has a revelation about the real conclusion when they smell almond somewhere it shouldn't be (vs pal and ianthe having their revelations about babs' soul in the almond room)

p487

"IANTHE False things have a piquancy which the real can never match. PALAMEDES is that from something? IANTHE Everything's from something.”

• ianthe is this actually from something. google yielded no straightforward results :(

p503

"IANTHE You look to me like a small boy holding a tail when he doesn’t even know where the donkey is.”

Nothing in particular just the image of tiny pal playing pin the tail on the donkey is so. He’s baby. Also he probably found a way to be very good at it via psychometry lol

@mayasaura: Under the circumstances, the donkey thing also reminded me of Buddhist parable of the blind men and the elephant, about the limits of perception in understanding the true nature of being. Or, to quote Wikipedia: "The moral of the parable is that humans have a tendency to claim absolute truth based on their limited, subjective experience" <- ianthe turbo roasting pal, love to see it

Miscellaneous / theatre techniques:

> What's up with the coffins?

@tangelotime: the coffins might be a black box theater technique, using boxes to represent certain settings rather than faithfully recreating them on the stage; @the-light-of-stars mentioned that the arrangement of the coffins depends on Pal's questions:

first he asks a philosophical question thus the arrangement in the style of a greek symposion - their style of dialogue also is in reference to Plato's work 'Symposion', as well as Ianthe offering Pal wine and the servants placing velvet cushions. The next question is about Babs' murder thus arrangement in style of a courtroom. Then a question about Gideon, the cavalier, thus arrangement in the style of a fencing ring. The last arrangement follow a question about Ianthe's motives for Corona and they are playing cards- both a classic trope symbolizing a battle of wits and a metaphor for Ianthe holding secrets (cards) that she has to reveal one by one (via @the-light-of-stars)

@transbutchbluess, @gwydionmisha also ID'd the greek symposium scene as a parody of a socratic/platonic dialogue, which "presents a discussion of moral and philosophical problems between two or more individuals illustrating the application of the Socratic method." (via wikipedia)

> continuing with the theme of theatre, @valence-positive also mentioned that the servants thumping the coffins at the same time after each question may be a theatre technique to underscore Pal's question; @winged made the connection to bells/gavels/gongs, which are often used for judgement (which occurs during the discussion of Babs' murder and Ianthe's intent/endgame.)

the coffin thumping might also be a reference to the bell toll in A Christmas Carol (via @winged again, you have a huge brain); it's also implied that Pal's visits parallel the three ghosts who visit Scrooge and induce a moral awakening:

"IANTHE Five minutes to midnight, I'd say. You can't last much longer, and we both know it. PAL You said that three visits ago." (p483)

vs the original novella by Charles Dickens (taken from sparknotes again):

“You (scrooge) will be haunted… by Three Spirits… Without their visits,” said the Ghost, “you cannot hope to shun the path I tread. Expect the first tomorrow, when the bell tolls One…. “Expect the second on the next night at the same hour. The third, upon the next night when the last stroke of Twelve has ceased to vibrate. Look to see me no more; and look that, for your own sake, you remember what has passed between us!”

Pal makes Ianthe realise that Babs' soul has been slowly fusing with hers all along, which is similar what the third ghost does in ACC:

"The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come leads Scrooge through a sequence of mysterious scenes relating to an unnamed man's recent death...Scrooge, anxious to learn the lesson of his latest visitor, begs to know the name of the dead man. After pleading with the ghost, Scrooge finds himself in a churchyard, the spirit pointing to a grave. Scrooge looks at the headstone and is shocked to read his own name."

Finally, like other references in TUG (An Inspector Calls, Dulcie's Hamlet quote), A Christmas Carol criticises the treatment of a disadvantaged class. AIC and ACC both end with the characters faced with the morality of their actions. (intertextuality! delicious)

I also thought the thumping was similar to the synchronisation thing we see in ntn:

"[Ianthe] flounced up the dais, threw herself back into her chair—the dead bodies jerked their left hips convulsively, all in unison" (Nona the Ninth, p335)

Ok that’s it thank u for reading the whole thing ???? And thank you so much for contributing guys! Feel free to leave a reply or dm me if you have any additions <3

#the unwanted guest spoilers #the locked tomb spoilers #most revisions/additions will be further down in the post!#im surrounded by big brains here and i love it #the locked tomb meta #the unwanted guest #the locked tomb #text

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mitsies · 5 months

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❊ turn me down - michael kaiser . . loving you might just be the unluckiest fate.

there is an ache in kaiser's chest that he can't get rid of.

it's been lingering for far too long to be normal. like a broken wire, sparks fly down his spine, burning from the inside. he's already tried writing it off as bad sleep. he's tried explaining it away as lifestyle, or certain foods, or other irrelevant factors. but no matter what he tries, this dull pain, it persists. it lives inside him; a parasite.

he feels it when the train slows to a stop. he feels it in his history lecture when his professor says something dull. he feels it on the football field when he really, really shouldn't. kaiser can't escape the sensation. it follows him like a shadow, like a bad omen, like a ghost.

and the only solution, he's found, is your touch.

this is discovered on a rain-soaked monday. the both of you had been taking cover in your apartment, and your roommates were all out. it hadn't been awkward, not at all. because before anything else, the both of you were friends. you'd met in a chemistry class a few months back. your friendship was new, and it was easy; it was even easier for him to fall for you.

maybe it had happened that night, when the two of you had shared your first kiss together. when you'd both agreed to be a little more than friends, but not much more. when he'd first touched you the way he wanted to. or maybe he'd fallen for you before that— back in the class, back to your first study session. or maybe it was sometime after. he doesn't know. he may never know. but as it stands, that's where he is; hopelessly, pathetically infatuated with you.

he thinks of it as something like a blessing. the way you talk to him makes him feel tethered and real. the way your hands trace familiar pathways down his back on late nights makes everything feel right. the way you care about him makes his whole body burn enough to forget the stupid ache in his chest.

you've always been hard to read. he can never quite tell what you're thinking, although he itches, burns, to have every single piece of you learned and memorised. is it just for fun to you? or is it more, like it is to him? do you think about him when he's not there like he thinks about you? does his touch make you feel okay for once, too? he hopes so. he needs it to be true, really. because there is something desperate about the way he loves you. like he's grasping at something that's always just out of reach. like you're the only cure for his pain. like you're the only good thing he has, like he can't let you be just a friend.

but that's all you are, really; just friends. nothing less but also nothing more. an unfortunate conundrum. and even more unfortunate is the fact that in his blindness, he'd neglected to account for the fact that friends-with-benefits was no kind of commitment, either.

the bar is muggy and crowded on friday nights, and tonight is no different. kaiser is usually by your side, but he's let himself get pulled away by some of your friend group for a game of pool. but when he's done, and searches for you, you aren't alone. there's a stranger seated in the barstool where he once was, making conversation with you— and you look amused. a hand is propping your head up and your body is tilted towards the stranger, and your eyes crinkle a little around the corner like they do when you find something funny, and kaiser is angry. his body aches, it burns. an ugly feeling melts into his bones, mixing not-too-well with the alcohol already in his system as he moves to where you're sitting.

maybe it's ego. maybe it's envy. or maybe, just maybe it's desperation, as he inserts himself between you and the man with a crooked grin in your direction. "everything okay here, darling?"

you might be hard to read at times, but there's no mistaking the venom that burns behind your eyes as you glare at him. it should hurt. but you're looking at him, so how bad could it be?

you feign a smile and play along, presumably to avoid embarrassment. "yes. yes, actually, more than okay. in fact, i'm ready to go now. mind paying my tab?"

he likes you when you're irritated. he likes you all the time. he'd pay your tab even if you didn't ask. kaiser can feel your anger swell as the man you were speaking to dismisses himself, and as he leads you out of the bar. but he can't be angry. not now, because you take his hand when it's offered. he knows it's to avoid a scene, but he'll pretend it's more than that. your hand in his sends warmth down his body in sparks, enough to make everything else disappear.

"what the hell was that?"

you're mad. he knew you'd be. but he loves you so he just smiles like an idiot.

the street outside the bar is mostly empty. no one is close enough to hear your conversation, and only a few bar hoppers remain, waiting for a cab or stumbling to their next destination. a streetlight shines down on you, turning you amber in its light. you look beautiful. you might've been waiting for him to respond, he's not sure; but when he doesn't, you keep going.

"kaiser, what is your problem?"

something about your saying his name snaps him out of his haze. oh. what was he doing?

"we agreed," you continue, "we're just friends. just friends. we're not anything, kaiser. we're nothing, got that?"

you're mad, you're so mad. and your words burn and sting, like whips on skin, like fire on flesh. he's silent. he doesn't have anything to say, now that the fog has lifted around his brain. you and him were nothing. he loves you like a godless man, but you and him are nothing.

"right," is all kaiser says. he lacks his usual conviction or confidence. he fears that you may be the only person who will ever be capable of reducing him to ashes. you cross your arms and stare at him with a sardonic, "yeah. right."

he loves you. he loves you like a saint, he loves you like you're all he has. and he realises, right there on the sidewalk in front of a dingy bar, that loving you does nothing but hurt.

he never ached the way he does now before he met you. he never burned with emotion too strong to contain. knowing you brought on the pain, and loving you made it worse, and being around you ruined him. this was not a blessing. this was a curse. your touch was not a cure as much as it was a cause.

it hurts to love you. it hurts to love you this much and get nothing back. he knows he shouldn't, now, he's realised that it'll only make things worse. he shouldn't. but he can't let you go, not now. he's addicted to the pain, he's addicted to the melancholy of it all. which is why he smiles. which is why he says, "can i take you home and make up for it, then?"

your face is unreadable, you're sure. and he'd never know how you were feeling at that very moment. because you're hard to read on purpose. because you're not ready for him to know. but that same pain, that same hurt; you feel it too. that same love. unrequited, in your eyes. nothing but trouble. that same love, that makes you smile back. that same love that makes you say, "it's the least you could do," as you take his hand and leave.

maybe one day one of you will have the courage to shut it down or open up. maybe one day, you'll both really end up as either something or nothing. maybe one day, the ache of love's burden will lift. but for now, the pendulum swings as one of you waits for the other to finally put them out of their misery, and turn them down.

flower chosen: yellow rose . . jealousy

❊ send a request! ❊ 5k masterlist ❊ event info ❊

#aka fwb but he's in love with u #michael kaiser x reader #kaiser x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk #kaiser michael x reader #blue lock kaiser #kaiser michael #michael kaiser #blue lock #inspired by “turn me down” by julia jacklin!#mitsies 5k #sorry about this MESS i have not written in 5ever and my brain is meltingrn over kaisers recent hairstyle and also finals ig

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frogseasons · 2 years

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theres something so incredibly painful and meaningful about nona deciding to live just because a dog is in the truck. just noodle, this weird little six-legged dog that nona only knew for a handful of months in her already short life that she loved so deeply. tazmuir goes to painstaking extents to illustrate all the horrible things that come as a result of love (paul, jod’s backstory, pyrrha/g1deon/wake, ianthe and corona, gideon and harrow, etc) but this little, pivotal moment illustrates the beauties of it. nona is all about love, she loves without reason, she loves her little life and her little family and her school and her friends and noodle. noodle, who is just a dog, who can’t speak or express his love like humans do, but shows it nonetheless. because noodle is a dog, and dogs love without reason, just like nona (just like the earth). when everything and everyone that nona loves is falling apart, when she’s lost in all those horrors of love and chaos and destruction and her brain is breaking down and she’s losing what it means to Be Nona, noodle is still there, loving her regardless. and because she’s still nona, she loves him back. and she lives for love, even for just a few minutes longer. for a dirty little six-legged dog that wasn’t even hers, because she can’t let what she loves die if she has the choice (the power, for once). it’s beautiful and heartbreaking and the last decision she ever made was to live with her horrible, painful existence so that a dog (who couldn’t choose) wouldn’t die.

#g txt #tlt #the locked tomb #nona the ninth #nona the ninth spoilers #ntn spoilers #GOD…. god……..#ntn just spends its whole time showing how drastically different nona and jods love is #like… jod loved to the point of destruction but nona loved to the point of existence #when everything was tumbling down around them jod watched his friends die without remorse and used them to kill the earth #he killed all he loved and wiped clean the slate #but nona sees everything she loves dying and changing and wants to go too. but she stays.#because who is she if not someone who loves and wants to be loved #she’s terrified of not remembering that love. but jod erases the memory of love for the sake of his own ease #nona lives with pain for love. and jod kills everything he loves and gives no choice in it.#those tags arent worded exactly right BUT U GET MY POINT YEAH.#g

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