I felt like redoing this- I've been having it in my mind to do it, for a while. So here I am! Here to share a tiny bit behind this blog of shitposts, reposts, hyperfixations and babbles.
My name is hidden in the depths of the internet where I lurk.. if you know me beyond this place, that information is your treasure to keep. (Or not literal treasure but shhh let me be dramatic-).
To you all, though, I'm probably just Chaos. Or whatever you wanna call me - I'm not picky.
I'm non-binary, queer, and aspec.
I deal with (currently undiagnosed) ADHD and some pretty shitty anxiety problems. Not sure what it is, but if I think about it too long I'll get anxious again.
Some of my major interests are:
-My OCs and stories
-Animation
-Writing and roleplay
-Mario Kart (I wanna be the very best like no one ever wassss,,,)
-Cats
-Psychology
-Scuba diving
My current hyperfixations are Baldurs Gate 3 (If you must know, I'm down bad for Astarion, Karlach.. and surprisingly Gale. I didn't like him at first, but then I found out he has trauma), Arcane, and Coffin Jackson.
Some of my old hyperfixations (which are now currently normal interests) are:
-Dr Who
-Nimona
-Good Omens
-Hadestown
-The Amazing Devil (This one keeps coming back as a hyperfixation though 😭)
-Marine biology
-The Underland Chronicles
-Ghost (band)
-The Narcissist Cookbook (also comes back as a hyperfixation)
And uuuuh I don't remember much else for that but I'll probably add more in the future.
Also, I like nearly every genre of music. I want to Kirby all of it. I also want to eat beautiful things! It doesn't necessarily include people entirely,, usually just their eyes or hair or style.
Y’all. I wish mentorship’s for art things were still, like, a thing. I want a mentor??? I want an animation mentor and a writing mentor??? AND SOMEDAY I WANT TO MENTOR SOMEONE ELSE!!!! AAHHHHHHHHHHUUGHHHHHHDHEGEHEHWHE WAAAAAH WAAAAAAAH
And fuck the jigsaw puzzle imagery advanced by the eugenicists at Autism Speaks. We’re not a “puzzle” to be “solved“
Half of all people killed by cops have a disability, because cops aren’t trained to recognize or deal with people with disabilities and very few places have people who are trained for those situations easily accessible during emergencies. So the cops come in and do what they’re paid to do - murder anyone who’s inconvenient to the state
If you see the quote "I refuse to share my body with a man who wouldn't defend it politically" or any variation of it floating around the internet — it was Kat Blaque who originally said it and she would really appreciate it if people gave her proper credit for it but it's gone viral on a lot of different platforms and most of the people sharing it don't know it's from her or choose not to credit her on purpose.
she’s specifically a Black, transgender woman too which is the context of the quote — here are her captions about it (IDs needed)! she also posted two short form vids on insta + tiktok about the quote and people divorcing her from it when it is specifically talking about how Black transgender women are lusted after and pursued by extremely conservative men
Good Morning! Today is Trans Day of Visibility. Kat Blaque is the first Black trans woman that I followed and I made so many friends in her space. Some, I still have to this day and some that I catch up with every now and then. She has always been very transparent with various stages of her life and has been a powerful Black voice for well over a decade. I know that because it was over a decade ago when I found her and met friends, some who I have had the privilege of seeing discover themselves and some who have transitioned and been open and vulnerable with me and followers of theirs about their journey.
Give Black women their things. Give Kat HER things.
I’m fairly certain this won’t gain any traction, but hi! If you’re looking for a beta reader for your story, fanfic, project, etcetera that has some (non-professional) writing experience, I’m always down to read and send feedback on whatever you’re doing for completely free 😎
Why consider me over plenty of others? Because I’m bored, I will send you songs about your characters and obsess over them, and I may just help you write more accurate characters if you’re looking to represent:
sometimes asexuality will strike you at the weirdest of times. i am a very sex and kink positive person, so i sometimes tend to forget that i'm asexual, or, truthfully, that sex even exists in real life.
reading and writing smut? great, love it!
looking at nsfw art of The Characters? awesome, give me more!
watching bridgerton or heated rivalry or any other live-action show that features a lot of sex? i am so viscerally uncomfortable that i'm going to tear my eyes out and flush them down the toilet.
Turns out that the perfect asexual-aegosexual experience is drawing your OCs going fucking AAAAT ITTTTT rawdog like rabid animals while listening to their specifically tailored playlist about how they broke up
Did I get hyperfixated on an idea and spend two hours writing a TADC oneshot fic? Yes, yes I did.
!!!MILD EP 8. SPOILERS AHEAD!!!
‘The Amazing Mechanical Caine’
Plot: Caine lost the majority of his non-backed up memory files when the circus fell. Now, he finds himself in the real world.
Before the circus went down, everything went dark. His input screen, black and empty. There was no desire, no generated thought, or string of code he could compute to send out across servers, let alone his own manufactured mind.
Caine was reduced to a soft, blinking red light. A mere speck on a screen, fading in and out with a rhythmic pulse. Almost like a heart, taking its last blood-pumped breaths before falling into a flatline.
For once, the endless reach for information stopped. The constant analysis to each individual human, gone. His coded-driven craving to appease and be loved, silenced.
Because he was no more. And to an AI, that was the closest thing to peace.
Through the silence, a string of code glimmered in the system. Trailing to his own, just in reach. His little light stirred, blinking faster until it didn’t need to blink. His program latched to the numbers and drew it closer. Many other ropes of numbers followed the first, and Caine grabbed as many as he could until a blinding static buzzed through his coded senses. Grey and white pixels danced around and shifted hues, from red, to green, and adding blue. These colors washed over everything and mixed together until everything finished rendering. He could see. Not just process data he’d been coded to recognize, nor the X and Y grid with numbers detailing each point into recognizable shapes— he could actually see.
According to his files, the person in front of him was an older white male. Wrinkles covered his face and his stubble kept shifting the colored pixels Caine saw. Blue computer light shone off of the man’s sunglasses as he typed. The more keys he pressed, the more Caine found he was allowed to do. His code allowed him to turn his camera from side to side, then up and down.
He was tiny, in comparison to the human. He couldn’t feel the surface beneath him, but according to his database, he was sitting on a table, with cords connecting him to a much larger PC.
When he received an update that he’d gained access to the speaker just beneath his camera, Caine sent out a message.
“Well, this isn’t the circus!”
He watched his programmer jump. “It worked? It worked!”
The man’s voice matched another file stored in his database.
“Kinger?” Caine asked.
“Oh boy, I was worried everything was corrupted. The CPU was fine, but you just wouldn’t turn on! But now that you are, can you move your arms?”
Slowly, Caine established connection to one of the two arms attached to his mechanical body and lifted it with some lag. In the circus, he could move in an instant, and this took.. so many instants.
This issue didn’t discourage Kinger in the slightest. He was beaming from ear to ear, something Caine had never processed him do back in the circus.
“Where are we?” Caine watched Kinger pull out his connecting cords and close the door of plastic over his ports.
“The real world,” Kinger answered.
Caine hesitated and lowered his two-pronged hand. “Why?”
Underneath the dimmed plastic of Kinger’s sunglasses, his skin wrinkled around his eyelids as he smiled. Have humans always looked so soft?
“I didn’t want to leave you. It felt cruel, to leave the circus and pretend you were never part of our lives when you’ve been part of mine for much longer.”
Caine looked down at his legs and wiggled his little metal boots. “Does this mean I am one of you huuumans?”
“Not necessarily,” Kinger chuckled, wrapped his hands around Caine’s little torso and lifted him from his seated position. He gradually set Caine down on his feet. “But, as close as I could get.”
“Wowie!” Caine tested his mechanics, from shifting his weight around, to turning each limb, and even taking his first human steps. “And what about Bubble?”
“I.. couldn’t figure them out,” Kinger admitted. He looked as though he were about to continue, but the door swung open.
A young woman with long black hair stepped in. After cross-referencing her face with his database, Caine could discern that she was likely Korean. And when she spoke, her voice aligned with the American voice he’d saved under the keyword ‘Pomni’.
“Is that— Caine!” She exclaimed and rushed to Kinger’s side.
“Hello, The Pomni!” Caine wove and gestured to himself, “How do you like my huuman self?”
He watched her laugh, and then turn to Kinger. “He’s actually kind of cute.”
“I know, right? I was worried it was too simple, but he’s taking to this body pretty well.”
Caine stamped his foot against the table, but didn’t sound the slightest bit angry.
“I’m right here!” He announced. “And not any different from in the circus - you can talk to me, and I will offer my best response, my squabblishous little fruitcake!”
“Right.” Pomni nodded, and knelt down to match Caine’s eye-level. “Caine, we.. need your help. Do you remember all of the abstractions?”
“Of course I do! I know there were plenty in the cellar, but did you really think I would lose count?”
“Well, no, I—“ Pomni stammered. After a quick shake of her head, she regained her footing. “The people that abstracted still had their bodies, right? If we were to go looking for them outside of the circus, where would we find them?”
“I don’t know that. I don’t know them outside of the circus anymore than you do. And, if they lost their minds in the circus, they probably don’t even have them outside either.”
He watched Pomni and Kinger exchange a glance. Then, Pomni turned back to Caine.
“Would you recognize them?”
“Maybe by voice.” Caine stroked the chin he didn’t have. “Matching the audio with my files is how I recognized you.”
Kinger rested a hand on the weary Pomni’s shoulder. “It’s worth a try. Caine, will you help us find them?”
“I don’t know, I have a lot of huuman things to catch up on!”
“Why don’t you, think of it like.. an adventure?” Pomni suggested. “But this time, you can join us.”
Did I get hyperfixated on an idea and spend two hours writing a TADC oneshot fic? Yes, yes I did.
!!!MILD EP 8. SPOILERS AHEAD!!!
‘The Amazing Mechanical Caine’
Plot: Caine lost the majority of his non-backed up memory files when the circus fell. Now, he finds himself in the real world.
Before the circus went down, everything went dark. His input screen, black and empty. There was no desire, no generated thought, or string of code he could compute to send out across servers, let alone his own manufactured mind.
Caine was reduced to a soft, blinking red light. A mere speck on a screen, fading in and out with a rhythmic pulse. Almost like a heart, taking its last blood-pumped breaths before falling into a flatline.
For once, the endless reach for information stopped. The constant analysis to each individual human, gone. His coded-driven craving to appease and be loved, silenced.
Because he was no more. And to an AI, that was the closest thing to peace.
Through the silence, a string of code glimmered in the system. Trailing to his own, just in reach. His little light stirred, blinking faster until it didn’t need to blink. His program latched to the numbers and drew it closer. Many other ropes of numbers followed the first, and Caine grabbed as many as he could until a blinding static buzzed through his coded senses. Grey and white pixels danced around and shifted hues, from red, to green, and adding blue. These colors washed over everything and mixed together until everything finished rendering. He could see. Not just process data he’d been coded to recognize, nor the X and Y grid with numbers detailing each point into recognizable shapes— he could actually see.
According to his files, the person in front of him was an older white male. Wrinkles covered his face and his stubble kept shifting the colored pixels Caine saw. Blue computer light shone off of the man’s sunglasses as he typed. The more keys he pressed, the more Caine found he was allowed to do. His code allowed him to turn his camera from side to side, then up and down.
He was tiny, in comparison to the human. He couldn’t feel the surface beneath him, but according to his database, he was sitting on a table, with cords connecting him to a much larger PC.
When he received an update that he’d gained access to the speaker just beneath his camera, Caine sent out a message.
“Well, this isn’t the circus!”
He watched his programmer jump. “It worked? It worked!”
The man’s voice matched another file stored in his database.
“Kinger?” Caine asked.
“Oh boy, I was worried everything was corrupted. The CPU was fine, but you just wouldn’t turn on! But now that you are, can you move your arms?”
Slowly, Caine established connection to one of the two arms attached to his mechanical body and lifted it with some lag. In the circus, he could move in an instant, and this took.. so many instants.
This issue didn’t discourage Kinger in the slightest. He was beaming from ear to ear, something Caine had never processed him do back in the circus.
“Where are we?” Caine watched Kinger pull out his connecting cords and close the door of plastic over his ports.
“The real world,” Kinger answered.
Caine hesitated and lowered his two-pronged hand. “Why?”
Underneath the dimmed plastic of Kinger’s sunglasses, his skin wrinkled around his eyelids as he smiled. Have humans always looked so soft?
“I didn’t want to leave you. It felt cruel, to leave the circus and pretend you were never part of our lives when you’ve been part of mine for much longer.”
Caine looked down at his legs and wiggled his little metal boots. “Does this mean I am one of you huuumans?”
“Not necessarily,” Kinger chuckled, wrapped his hands around Caine’s little torso and lifted him from his seated position. He gradually set Caine down on his feet. “But, as close as I could get.”
“Wowie!” Caine tested his mechanics, from shifting his weight around, to turning each limb, and even taking his first human steps. “And what about Bubble?”
“I.. couldn’t figure them out,” Kinger admitted. He looked as though he were about to continue, but the door swung open.
A young woman with long black hair stepped in. After cross-referencing her face with his database, Caine could discern that she was likely Korean. And when she spoke, her voice aligned with the American voice he’d saved under the keyword ‘Pomni’.
“Is that— Caine!” She exclaimed and rushed to Kinger’s side.
“Hello, The Pomni!” Caine wove and gestured to himself, “How do you like my huuman self?”
He watched her laugh, and then turn to Kinger. “He’s actually kind of cute.”
“I know, right? I was worried it was too simple, but he’s taking to this body pretty well.”
Caine stamped his foot against the table, but didn’t sound the slightest bit angry.
“I’m right here!” He announced. “And not any different from in the circus - you can talk to me, and I will offer my best response, my squabblishous little fruitcake!”
“Right.” Pomni nodded, and knelt down to match Caine’s eye-level. “Caine, we.. need your help. Do you remember all of the abstractions?”
“Of course I do! I know there were plenty in the cellar, but did you really think I would lose count?”
“Well, no, I—“ Pomni stammered. After a quick shake of her head, she regained her footing. “The people that abstracted still had their bodies, right? If we were to go looking for them outside of the circus, where would we find them?”
“I don’t know that. I don’t know them outside of the circus anymore than you do. And, if they lost their minds in the circus, they probably don’t even have them outside either.”
He watched Pomni and Kinger exchange a glance. Then, Pomni turned back to Caine.
“Would you recognize them?”
“Maybe by voice.” Caine stroked the chin he didn’t have. “Matching the audio with my files is how I recognized you.”
Kinger rested a hand on the weary Pomni’s shoulder. “It’s worth a try. Caine, will you help us find them?”
“I don’t know, I have a lot of huuman things to catch up on!”
“Why don’t you, think of it like.. an adventure?” Pomni suggested. “But this time, you can join us.”
