you know, it's great that renarin is explicitly autistic, but it does make for very weird reading when you're reading a chapter from another character's perspective and they're acting exactly like renarin (again, textually autistic) and then you're supposed to believe that that character is not autistic. what do you mean szeth has the exact same dilemmas over making decisions for himself and telling right from wrong and being mocked by his friends, but he's not autistic? ridiculous. especially when it's one of renarin's relatives. i mean, autism is genetic, where do you think he got it from? the man with a rigid, inflexible moral code who is incapable of talking about anything without relating it back to his favourite book? surely not
Renarin: god, I wish I was neurotypical like my brother.
Adolin: hi! I was told how military hierarchy should work, decided it was dumb, and ignored that rule completely for the rest of my military career! I love weapons, so much I insisted on bringing 20 of them to a realm where we have limited carrying capacity and magic necessary to bring said weapons! I have literally fumbled every woman I ever dated because I cannot pretend to be interested in their interest, and struggle to prioritise time with them! One time I bought a girl a sword and then talked about swords to her for an hour! I prefer duels to most other forms of communication!
Sometimes I remember how much I fucking love Phillip Pullman’s His Dark Materials. Like this man sat down and wrote a book about a fucking badass female protagonist whose main talent is lying and that’s A GOOD THING. Her ability to lie is a skill, it’s a positive, it saves her life and helps her enrich others lives with the stories she fabricates.
He looked the Christian church canon of women being manipulative deceivers starting with Eve and was like YEAH, SO WHAT?!? And he made a protagonist who embodies that in the most positive way as a fuck you to that bullshit.
Lyra as a character has always meant so fucking much to me and the story as a whole which celebrates conscious thought, making art, and the waves we leave behind, and what people can accomplish when they think for themselves. I just love him.
If the TPOFATGIF cast was allowed a Garbage Hell Tarot reading, what would their results be?
(With Reference to The AEIWAM!Zaraki Kenpachi Garbage Hell Tarot Deck)
---
"...Why do you need this again?" Zaraki grumbled, retrieving the deck from it's place in the rafters over the kitchen.
"About an hour ago, these punks lit the Reiatsu Sensors in the living world like a bonfire, but the hollows seem to be ignoring them entirely and I wanna know if they're my problem or not." Matsumoto sighed.
"-Alright, that's a legit use of the deck but it can't wait until morning?" he glared. Zaraki was not *entirely* averse to female captains kicking in his door at one AM, but this was not Lady Unohana.
"You want to fight Kurosaki again, right? What if we wait until morning and one of these freaks warps him off to the moon or something? We'd have to go through a whole thing to get his ginger ass back, and who knows how long that will take!" Matsumoto replied, a master of the Ad Hoc Argument.
"...You know? I always wanted to fight the moon." Zaraki nodded, genuinely considering it.
"Please?" Matsumoto pouted. "The sooner we do this the sooner we can go back to bed."
"Yeah, yeah, alright-" Zaraki sighed, sitting down at the table and opening the box. "Yer gonna need to be more specific than 'are these guys a problem?' 'cause everyone is someone's problem."
"Hm..." Matsumoto frowned, sitting down opposite him. "No, you're right, they're in Karakura, they're my problem until they leave. What Kind of Problem are these guys?"
"Yeah that'll work." Said Zaraki, shuffling the deck.
"I remember last time we had to do everyone individually, but if they're an organization, I'd like to know..?" Matsumoto asked, taking out a file folder with photographs of the Suspicious Interlopers.
"Focus on them as a group first, then individuals." Zaraki nodded, fanning out the deck.
---
Bakura sat bolt upright from his ramen, wide-eyed and staring into the distance like a dog at the distant chittering of a squirrel.
"What, Timmy fall down a well or something?" asked Tristan, already reaching for the Emergency Bag he'd packed along on the group's spring break trip to KarakuraKon, the Gaming Convention. The train had been delayed from some kind of bridge accident and they had decamped to the only restaurant open after midnight, Unagiya Ramen.
"We're being Scryed." said Bakura.
"Ah, fuck, really?" Joey groaned. "Figures this place has it's own magical bullshit."
"Can you tell who it is? Or how?" Yugi asked.
"No, it's... It's like they're spying on us from somewhere very far away." Bakura frowned, holding up the Ring, whose tines were wiggling with agitation, but in no clear direction. "...Which I realize is the definition of scrying but these guys are really, really far away. Like they're scrying from across time, or from another dimension..."
It's Cartomancy. Yami spoke up, his ghostly form glaring into the same middle distance. I don't know how I know, but I'm sure.
"Well two can play at that game!" Bakura declared, pulling out his own deck, shuffling and cutting a fraction off the top, and put it in the middle of the table. "Everyone put some of their deck in, it'll be stronger that way."
"Here we go again..." sighed Joey.
---
"Huh." Zaraki frowned down at the table.
"I promise I tried to draw only one card." Matsumoto muttered.
"Nah, nah, The Deck knows what it's doing. If it gives you a whole hand, it means it. Write these down, this is gonna be weird." Zaraki waved.
Matsumoto nodded, retrieving her notebook and pen from her cleavage.
"So we got... Seven of Lobsters, Smiley Face, The White Elephant, and Coconuts." He read off, pointing in turn to the surreal christmas card, a "Have A Nice Day!" Inspirational ticket, a picture of a pale elephant from a children's book, and a postcard of a swallow atop a coconut.
"I think I remember the Lobsters from last time- I think Shuuhei had to fight a lobster arrancar?" Rangiku asked, writing the cards down.
"Lemme see the picture?" Zaraki asked, craning his neck at the photo that Rangiku pushed across the table. "...Rangiku these are Kids. Look at that one, he's sitting on a phone book to reach the table!?"
"From what I've been able to track down, they're all four or five years older than Kurosaki." Rangiku shrugged.
"Shoulda ate his vegetables. Good Hair though." Zaraki muttered. "Hm. only five of them- Lobsters is usually literal so I thought there'd be seven of 'em."
Rangiku made a noncommital noise and shrugged like a collision of continental plates. Seven Members? She wrote down.
"No idea what Smiley Face is doing here. I think this might be the first time it's been drawn upright. Every other time I remember it's been upside-down and it turned out to be a real bad omen." Zaraki muttered.
"Maybe a good omen then?" Rangiku tried. "What's with the elephant?"
"Something that's more trouble than it's worth, usually a gift." Zaraki nodded. "...These two got some ugly-ass Jewelry." he tapped the picture.
"Yeah, I didn't like the look of those either." Rangiku nodded. "Museum pieces, whatever they are- maybe something they inherited?"
"Could be." Zaraki shrugged. "...Coconut's interestin'. It usually means something is only passing through. Might be back later, but this isn't it's final destination."
"...Are you suggesting coconuts migrate?" Rangiku squinted at him.
"Nah, swallows carry 'em around by the husk." he explained, tapping on the picture.
"Okay so so far, group of seven-ish, maybe a good omen, Something that's more than it's worth, and Temporary..." Rangiku muttered, electing to not debate Zaraki's dubious assertions about the carrying capacity of swallows. "Well, shit. Maybe we can go back to bed-"
Another card fell from the deck in Zaraki's hand and fluttered to the top of the array.
Yellow Uno Reverse.
"Oh, FUCK that thing!" Rangiku hissed, jumping up from the table. "That's the card that turned Mayuri into goop!"
"Calm yer tits, all it does is turn around whatever you give it, and he gave it crap." Zaraki sighed, picking up the game card. "Why'd you fall out just now though..? Lemme see that photo again."
Rangiku sat down as far from the table as was technically still Polite and glared at the yellow card as Zaraki studied the photo with his sole functioning eye, then with the malfunctioning one.
Something abruptly caught Rangiku's eye and she peered over Zaraki's shoulder at his bedroom door right as he looked up at the window.
The two shinigami looked at each other. Magic. And damn strong to hit them both like that.
"I thought Yachiru was watching us from the door." Said Rangiku.
"Thought I saw summat the wind-" Zaraki paused mid-word, looking down at the reversal card, then cackled loud enough to wake the whole division.
"Of course! Every towhead like that's got magic comin' outta them like shit out of a goose!" he laughed, tapping the photo to indicate the white-haired boy. "Clever bastard, he's scryin' us back!"
"What?" Rangiku yelped. "What the hell is he looking at?!"
---
"...I have no idea what I'm looking at." Bakura admitted.
On the table in front of him was an array of Duel Monsters cards: Reaper of The Cards, Volcanic Eruption, Divine Sword Phoenix Blade, Spy-C-Spy and Symbol of Friendship.
"Why does the symbol of friendship looks so much like the hand-drawing Tea did for us?" asked Tristan.
"Because that's where I got the Idea, dingus." Tea scoffed. "But seriously, if Bakura can't explain it, who can?"
"-LOOK, it was a choice between that kid getting hurt and the bridge getting hurt, and I chose the bridge!" someone shouted from the door. The gang looked up to see a gaggle of teenagers entering the store. Two of them- a lean dark-haired boy with glasses and a tall ginger- seemed to be having an argument.
"Well you didn't have to hit it that HARD! Now thanks to you all the trains are backed up and we're going to have to WALK home!" the boy with glasses complained.
"Yeah well-!" the ginger boy started to retort, then stopped, staring at them, then strode directly over to them.
"Hey, Uh- Okay, this is gonna sound really weird, but do you know you're being haunted by your dead twin?"
The gang exchanged silent, totally unsubtle glances before Yugi started snickering.
"I- Yeah, well- kinda. I know he's there, but he's not my twin." Yugi explained. "The situation is way, way weirder than that- It's fine though! We're friends!"
"Oh, that's cool!" The ginger boy relaxed and offered Yugi his hand. "Sorry, Hi- I'm Ichigo Kurosaki- I don't usually freak out about ghosts like that but the last time I saw someone was being haunted by a dead sibling it ended up becoming a huge mess."
"Yugi Moto, and this is Yami." Yugi replied, taking it. "Trust me, this is also a huge mess, but we're on top of it!"
"You sound like you know what's happening in terms of magic and ghosts around here?" Bakura asked cheerfully.
"...Ehhhh?" Ichigo waved his hand. "I mean, I'm probably supposed to, seeing as I'm the local authority concerning ghosts, but my job training sucked ass."
"Well that's more than we know!" Bakura said with enthusiasm. "Care to join us?"
---
"...Ken-chan?" Yachiru called from the door, blearily rubbing her eye. "Why are you and Ran-chan up?"
"Oh hi sweetie! We didn't mean to wake you!" Rangiku perked up, holding her arms open and the little girl ambled over and returned her hug. "Kenpachi is just helping me figure something out."
"Sorry kiddo, the Garbage deck is playing tag with a mage in the living world." Zaraki added, ruffling his daughter's hair. Yachiru let of of Rangiku and climbed into his lap, and he handed the girl the photo of the teenagers.
"This guy looks like he could be related to Ukki-kun." Yachiru mumbled, pointing to the white-haired boy.
"Yer right... Does Ukitake have relatives in the living world?" Zaraki asked.
"I- I think he does, actually." Rangiku frowned. "He was born here but I remember him saying something about how his grandfather or whoever was part of the Ukitake clan in the living world, died young, and decided to found the spirit world branch of the clan. I suppose the kid could be a descendant but since this branch of the clan is like, a thousand years old, 'related' might be a bit of a strong word."
"Well i'd bet he's the one trying to spy on us, so let's get a read on him first." Zaraki grinned, offering Rangiku the deck again.
She pulled, and two cards came away in her hand, one stuck to the back of the other. "Not again...!" She groaned as Zaraki carefully unstuck them.
"The World and... Persistence of Memory." Zaraki listed off.
"...So is it like last time where one's the problem and the other is the solution?" Rangiku asked, writing them down.
"Nah, that should only be one card?" Zaraki cocked his head at the cards, staring at them with intense focus.
--
"-So let me get this straight." Tristan started, glaring across the table in bewilderment. "You're basically a psychopomp to guide souls that don't automatically cross over, but you ALSO have to deal with souls whose mental illness gets so bad that they turn into giant man-eating monsters. There's actually a whole-ass organization of psychopomps to deal with this monster problem, but it's run by idiots, and there was recently minor civil war in the afterlife between those idiots, and they had to call in YOU, a guy who didn't even sign up for this shit, to finish the job?"
Kurosaki and his friends had crowded into the booth with the gang and about six conversations were happening at once as they got accquainted. Joey apparently knew whatever town in Oxaca that Chad was from, as well as the part of Germany the Uryuu guy was studying medicine in. Yugi, Bakura and the Orihime girl were having a conversation about magic that sounded uncomfortably like math. Tea and Tatsuki were comparing Quadriceps.
"...Yeah, that's about the size of it." Ichigo nodded. "Still beats working minimum wage retail though."
"I can't believe the afterlife is staffed by petty bureaucrats." Tristan groaned.
"Oh man, I WISH it was bureaucrats." Ichigo laughed. "its mostly staffed by Violent maniacs for varying degrees of Violent and maniac."
"Also, I don't think it's necessarily YOUR afterlife?" Orihime added. "It only seems to be populated by people from the Hiroshima prefecture, parts of Mexico and like, one strip of the black forest in Germany? If you die in city limits this weekend, you might end up in Soul Society, but if you die in Tokyo I think you go somewhere else."
Huh. If afterlives are geographiclly localized that WOULD explain why people from japan don't go to the Aru... Yami pondered.
"It's a little more complicated than that, Belief still plays a role but not the one you'd think-" Orihime started to explain when Bakura yelped, clutching his shoulders and doubling over.
"They've spotted me!" Bakura gasped. "Oh god it's awful, It's like being struck by lighting and having a blade drawn across my throat at once, and this- it feels like he might suddenly find and attack me like-"
"-Like you're a mouse and he's a hawk?" Ichigo asked.
"Y-Yes actually?" Bakura panted.
Ichigo made an inarticulate noise of profound annoyance, pulled out a cell phone shaped like a skull and called someone, impatiently tapping his foot until there was a noise on the other end-
"KNOCK IT OFF YOU ASSHOLE!" Ichigo bellowed into the phone's receiver end. "I don't know what you're doing but the guy you've got your eye on has the constitution of tissue paper-!"
"-I'm not here, leave a message after the beep." a man's voice that was so rough it could be used as sandpaper delivered the voicemail prompt.
"PICK UP YOUR FUCKING PHONE FOR ONCE IN YOUR AFTERLIFE OR I'M NEVER KICKING YOUR ASS AGAIN!" Ichigo bellowed, then hung up, searching is contacts.
"-I think you might'a meant dat the other way 'round?" Joey asked.
"Nah, he's a masochist." Ichigo shrugged. "I'm like 99% sure I know who's spying on you guys but he never picks up his phone so I'm calling around to see if there's someone who DOES answer their phone is in the room with him."
"You guys probably lit up all of the reiatsu sensors they use to keep an eye out for hollows from the other side, so you're being Very Aggressively eyeballed to see if you're going to be a problem or not." Orihime explained.
"GAH!" Bakura gasped, finally free of the terrible gaze. "Grab your inhaler Yugi, he's headed for you next!"
---
"Again with the doubles?" Zaraki frowned. "Maybe they both have haunted Jewelry?"
"A ticket to the 'Carnal Carnival' Floor Show signed 'With Love, Suichi' and a ticket from Animatronic Madame Zoroni Tells Your Fate that reads YOUR DESTINY IS [SERVICE ERROR 404, DESTINY NOT FOUND]." Rangiku read off. "...Not gonna lie, I'm a little worried for these kids."
"That first one is The Dungeonmaster, it's about being cool under pressure and handling multiple things at once. Suichi was one hell of a floor manager at Madame Tsubaki's. Really taught me a lot." Zaraki explained. "I 'spose the little guy's got the hair for leadership..."
"Uh-huh." Rangiku nodded sarcastically.
"Destiny Not Found is... not great. It's the deck's way of saying 'I don't know' and while that might mean their fate is up in the air, but if the Deck can't tell what's going on there's Some Fuckery afoot." Zaraki grimaced.
---
"Yeah I know what time it is! I also know Zaraki is gonna make some guy's lungs explode if he doesn't knock off with that tarot!" Ichigo griped into the phone to an equally irritable woman named "Rukia", who howled back unintelligibly over the line as Yugi took another drag from his inhaler.
"I am REALLY sorry about this!" Orihime apologized, trying to shield Yugi from the terrible gaze with Shun Shun Rikka. "He's actually really nice in person! Just... doesn't know his own strength?"
"I'm not sure 'Nice' is the right word for Captain Zaraki." Uryuu shuddered. "...But I'd agree, he wouldn't be this aggressive in person."
"Augh! Okay- Okay, he backed off... You're right though- heavy, but not hostile. Bit like Blankie, in a way." Yugi panted.
"FINE! I'LL CALL YOUR BROTHER, MAYBE HE CAN BE HELPFUL!" Ichigo shouted.
"So is he done or..?" Tea asked, rubbing Yugi's back.
"NOPE!" Yelped Tristain, going pale and sitting bolt upright like he'd been given an electric shock.
---
"Finally! Someone who isn't haunted!" Rangiku cheered, pulling a single "...What is this, actually? It's not a card?"
"Multitool, 'sposed to go in yer wallet." Zaraki explained, picking up the flat piece of metal. "Serrated edge is a saw, these holes fit around nuts and bolts, the corner can be used as a screwdriver and so on. Bloody Useful thing, 'cept the saw edge kept sawing through wallets. Never could tell if I was the one doing it wrong or it was just engineered badly.
The shinigami regarded the picture of the interlopers.
"...Bet you anything that's his backpack." Rangiku tapped the oversized pack with the red cross symbol on it.
---
"Hey, Byakuya, it's Ichigo- Yes, I know what your last name is, that's not important- list- Bruh- HEY!" Ichigo argued with an equally irritable male voice on the skull phone. "HEY! ZARAKI IS FUCKING AROUND WITH THAT TAROT DECK AGAIN AND IF HE DOESN'T STOP HE'S GONNA KILL SOMEONE IN THE LIVING WORLD."
"Woof! Okay, yeah! That sucks!" Tristain shuddered as the terrible gaze moved on from him. "Yo Joey gimme some of your fries."
"Yeah sure-" Said Joey, shoving the basket of furikake fries at his friend before leaning back over to show Chad more pictures of animals on his phone. "Anyway, this is my Girlfriend's cat, Princess Monster Truck. I mean, legally she belongs to Mai, but she's really daddy's girl-"
"-BECAUSE HE'S NOT PICKING UP HIS GODDAMN PHONE! YOU'RE BASICALLY HIS STEPSON, CAN YOU GET HIM TO KNOCK IT OFF?" Ichigo continued to bellow.
"She's very cute." Said Chad with the faintest quiver of profound adoration in his voice.
"That's the ugliest fucking cat I've ever seen." Said Tatsuki, half climbing over Chad to see. "I'd die for her."
"RUKIA TOLD ME! ALSO SHE ALREADY TOLD ME TO CALL YOU, SO DON'T TRY TO FOIST ME OFF ON HER!" Ichigo continued.
"Would you like anything? Refills? The check?" the waitress asked hopefully.
"I'm so sorry, could we have refills and another round of Everything in the appetizer section? I'll get him to keep it down!" Orihime waved.
"Yo, keep it down, jackass!" Tatsuki said, slapping Ichigo upside the head.
"...He hung up on me!" Ichigo gaped, disgusted. "Everyone doing okay? Nobody else getting psychically dive-bombed?" he asked, squinting around the table.
"And this is my Sister's Jousting Horse, Mr. Valid-To-Eat-FingYAUGH! MAMA MIA!" Joey Yelped.
---
"This is a Scratch-Off Lottery ticket." Sighed Matsumoto.
"Yeah for Ten grand-" Zaraki pointed out.
"That's not enough for a month's rent." Matsumoto pouted.
"-In Silver Dollars. Won it in 1869 right before they changed currencies so I was able to convert it to metal and sell it for a fucking packet up North. Set up Yachiru's college fund with that thing."
"Oh, so Golden Boy has REALLY good luck?" Rangiku laughed.
"I thought I got to go to the academy for free now that you're a captain?" Yachiru looked up from where she'd been polishing off dinner leftovers in Zaraki's lap.
"Yeah, but I wasn't exactly planning on becoming one at the time, Kid." Zaraki said, ruffling the girl's hair. "It's now your post-college fund."
"I wish I had parents like you." Rangiku pouted. "All I have is trauma and student debt."
"Talk to Kyoraku about that. He finagled away like two-thirds of the academy fees for the 11th when I first started." Zaraki waved.
"No shit?" Rangiku perked up. "Okay so these guys are looking like a group of randos with thier own ghost problems, but I'm not picking up any real connection to Kurosaki or anyone else in Karakura.
"There's still her." Yachiru pointed out the young woman in the photo. "She looks like she's Fun!"
---
"What the fuck was that shit? And why were they talking about student loans?" Joey gasped.
"Wait, you could tell who was in the room with him?" Asked Tatsuki.
"Uh... 'S not like I know anyone there, and it was kinda vague... Got the impression of three people?" Joey shrugged.
"We may still be able to identify them based on your impressions?" Uryuu called from the floor where he'd been examining the stitch work and construction of Tristain's rucksack. "This is a really gorgeous ladderback seam..."
"There was uh... guy who was like. A Knife? but horny?" Joey started counting them off.
"Yeah that's Zaraki..." Ichigo groaned.
"Then there was something that felt like cotton candy, but like the cotton candy was some kind of neon pink mimic that would bite your hands off?" He continued.
"That's his daughter, Yachiru." Tatsuki nodded.
"Terrifying creature." Uryuu added from under the table.
"And then uhh... Boobs." Joey frowned.
"Boobs?" Tristain groaned.
"Oh fuck that's right, the tenth Division is in charge of monitoring the living world!" Ichigo groaned, slapping his face. "Where is Rangiku's Number?"
"Of all the many women you know, Miss Inoue here included, there's one specifically that Embodies Boobs more than anyone else?" Yugi asked from where he had melted off the table and into a puddle between Tea and Orihime. Bakura was still facedown with a migraine and contemplating joining Uryuu on the floor.
"As a woman and a Lesbian- Holy shit, Yes."Tatsuki nodded. "I cannot stress how much this woman breasts boobily through life."
"Crap, I don't have it." Ichigo groaned. "Inoue-san?"
"Uh... maybe? I used to but then that phone fell out of my bag somewhere in the Guadalajara Airport, I'm not sure if she's in my new one. Tatsuki?"
"Pfft I *wish*!" Tatsuki scoffed. "I got a ton of pictures of her though, hang on-"
"Can't help but notice that Mr. Horny Knife Man started picking on the two frailest members of the group, then these two idiots who couldn't mount a psychic counter-assault if they tried. He scared of something?" Tea growled, glaring into the middle distance.
"What?" The Karakura kids chorused as they looked up.
"Oh shit, no no no No No NO-!" Ichigo waved, trying to get her to back down.
"Come on you big chicken!" Tea shouted into the ether. "Fucking try it, I'll kick your dick in-Mpfh!" She was suddenly muffled by Tatsuki, Chad and Ichigo all trying to slap their hands over her mouth at once.
"I cannot explain to you what a terrible idea it is to challenge Zaraki to a fight. You're honestly better off hitting land mines with a shovel." Ichigo grimaced.
"Short fuse?" Yugi grimaced.
"No, other way around- Dude fucking LOVES fighting and if he likes you he'll unleash all hell upon you in hopes that you genuinely try to kill him! Remember how I said he was a masochist? He wants his ass kicked into the dirt and he'll beat the shit out of you to get it!" Tatsuki tried to explain.
Oh, like if Seto was a jock! Yami said with a cheerful sort of terror.
"Well if he wants his ass kicked so bad I got the fuckin' legs for it!" Tea snarled. "Let's Go Motherfuck-" she started and stopped, eyes wide.
"Tea?" Yugi asked, peering up at her.
"Yeah." Ichigo winced.
"Tea?" Yugi asked with growing alarm as she started to shake. "Tea!"
"She'll probably be okay?" Tatsuki grimaced.
"I'm more worried about him!" Yugi yelped, standing up in his seat to shake her shoulders. "TEA! NO GOING BERSERK, IT'S A RULE!"
---
"OH SHE'S FUN-FUN!" Zaraki shouted with glee, Yachiru giggling and clapping.
"Is. Is that blood?" Rangiku recoiled in horror at the suspiciously-stained micro-pamphlet for a production of Swan Lake.
"YEAH!" Zaraki grinned, drumming happily on the table. "Fuck yes! Nothing but nothing fights like an angry ballerina!"
"A fucking what?" Rangiku gaped, before being interrupted by a Jaunty electronic Jingle.
"Your boobs are ringing Ran-Chan." Yachiru pointed.
"Who's calling me at this hour?" Rangiku puzzled, reaching into her cleavage and retriving her phone. "Oh shit, its Orihime! She'd only call if it's an emergency- HEEEEEYYYY GIRL!" She greeted her protege cheerfully while waving at the other two to shut up.
"HI HIME-CHAN!" Yachiru bellowed.
"Oh good you're still there- can you tell Zaraki-taicho to knock it off with the Tarot deck? The guys you're spying on aren't that sturdy and he almost really hurt two of them!" Orihime babbled.
"Wait- five young people, two brunettes, one blonde that looks like a human golden retriver, some guy with a porcupine for a haircut and Ukitake's long-lost bastard son? You're with them now?" Rangiku blinked.
"Yeah! It's fine! They have something going on with an Egyptian pharaoh and some trading card game and a roller coaster tycoon? What? Oh- Here's Chad." Orihime handed the phone over.
"The people who tripped your sensors are only here for the weekend." Chad mumbled into the line, unfailingly on-topic but unable to raise his voice. "We're all having ramen together but I think the owners will throw us out if there's more trouble."
"Oh. Okay!" Rangiku beamed. "False alarm! They're just visiting, but they're reacting badly to the deck, so can you put it away?" She smiled at Zaraki.
"FUCK THAT, WHO'S SWAN LAKE?" Zaraki gleefully bellowed into the phone.
"ANYWHERE, ANYTIME, MOTHERFUCKER!" the brunette woman screamed back.
"YOU'RE GOING TO GET US KICKED OUT!" Someone yelped, and there was a scuffle for the phone for a moment.
"It's good, I saw their ghost guy, he's cool, they have that situation on lock, PLEASE put the evil deck of cards away?" Ichigo pleaded, voice strained over the muffled yelling of whoever he had pinned.
"Get her name and address first." Zaraki leered.
"Are you fucking- I'm not setting up an ass-kicking appointment for you! Does your wife know you're fighting other wom- OW! DID YOU FUCKING BITE ME?"
"Wait what's this about his wife? Because I'm not violating girl code." the brunette asked.
"ITS FINE, SHE ENCOURAGES IT. SHE MIGHT EVEN COME WATCH!" Zaraki cheered as Rangiku gave up and handed him the phone so she could put the Tarot back in it's box and appointed place in the rafters.
"I am pre-emptively banning him from the polycule." someone grumbled.
"SECONDED!" the rest of the gang's voices chorused.
"Aw, Y'all're no fun." Zaraki pouted.
"What's a polycule?" asked Ichigo.
"OKAY WE PUT THE DECK AWAY, YOU GUYS STAY SAFE AND GO TO BED SO YOU CAN HAVE FUN AT YOU CONVENTION! BYE-BYE NOW!" Rangiku shouted, taking her phone back and hanging up before Zaraki could cause more trouble.
"You know. We probably shoulda just called Ichigo in the first place." Zaraki realized.
"I did think of that, I'm not totally stupid!" Rangiku protested. "It's just that Rukia keeps forgetting to give me his phone number."
"...Coulda asked Inoue for it." Zaraki pointed out.
"It's- what the hell? It's One-Twenty-Six in the morning and I am way too tired for this kind of personal attack. Thank you for your assistance, Captain Zaraki." Rangiku said, straightening up and putting her sandals on to leave.
"YOU OWE ME THAT BALLERINA'S PHONE NUMBER!" Zaraki called after her.
---
"Well. That's done." Ichigo sighed.
"Here's your check!" the waitress said with more than a little menace.
"Oh shit, uh- I got four dollars?" Joey said, patting his pockets.
"It's fine Joey, Seto gave me the company card this weekend." Said Yugi, waving off Chad's attempts to give him cash as well. "So sorry about all the noise!" he whispered to the waitress.
"Okay, since we're getting kicked out, where are we going?" Uryuu groaned, getting up from the floor. "I don't want to go home, my Dad's in a mood because it's time for his annual performance review and he always takes it personally."
"You guys like Duel Monsters?" Yugi asked. "I can comp you tickets to the convention this weekend if you're interested, then you can come back to the hotel instead?"
"Oh my gosh I love that game!" Orihime giggled. "I run a fairy deck!"
"OMG Me too!" tea beamed, thoughts of recreational homicide temporarily abandoned. "You're not Six_Flowers_Rampant on the duelmonsters online forums, are you?"
"I am!" Orihime gasped with delight.
"Oh my god! I'm Tutu-Titania! You're like my personal nemesis but fun!" Tea squealed with glee.
"Oh my gosh you're so cool!" Orihime gasped, stars in her eyes. "I've always wanted to be someone's Nemesis!
"...Why do I feel like we just got into more trouble?" Ichigo frowned.
Add realism to your fantasy stories by having characters from different backgrounds struggle to pronounce each others' names.
"My name is [low guttural sound] but I don't want to hear you butcher it. So you may call me She Who Arises With The Cold Mountain Sun."
"...Is that what your name really means? All that in just one word?"
"Yes. If you stress the wrong syllable it comes out as 'She Who Coldly Wakes Up The Mountain Sun', or 'The Cold Woman Who Wakes The Mountain Sun', and you will not call me that."
"Oh, huh. Could we just call you Mountain Sun, for short?"
"Hmh. It's boastful, almost bordering on blasphemy, but it is flattering. I accept it."
what if you told someone you liked their shoelaces while you were on your knees blowing them in a bathroom stall and they told you that they stole them from the president
Absurdist time loop where a guy gets stuck in a time loop for absolutely no apparent reason and tries all this crazy shit and dies a bunch of times and completely reforms his life and then suddenly gets spat out the other side on a completely average loop with no idea what he did that finally fixed it and the answer is like. There was this one (1) ant that he kept stepping on every cycle without even noticing and he doesn’t notice on the last one either he just stopped for an extra three seconds bc he dropped something or whatever. And then didn’t step on the ant. Either the ant is a wizard or a wizard enchanted it to live forever just to see what would happen. The point is the man never knows about it. As far as this guy is aware time just stopped working for six months and then just as randomly started again. He can speak Portuguese and play the viola now.
Alternatively world where time loops are not uncommon as just like, random natural magical phenomena where major ones are prone to coalesce around a Big Event—preventing someone’s death, a love confession, saving the world, etc—but occasionally you’ll get mini versions that just swirl up like a localized rain shower, especially as aftershocks of a Big One, so it’s not uncommon for you to wake up to your roommate looking addled and telling you it’s been Monday for two weeks. “Hey I just got stuck in the time loop and took up crafting, we need to buy crochet supplies now” is a common occurrence. College students frequently make deliberate efforts to snare themselves in time loops to get extra time to study. Athletes and writers hate it because you suddenly have all the time in the world but none of the fruits of your effort will stick around.
You see someone acting all time loopy, and you know. You know that today won't matter, you'll forget everything because it's someone else's loop.
So do decide to just have fun and do something nutty like fuck your boss.
And then it's tomorrow, because it was that guy's last loop.
So if you follow me (and aren't just stopping by because you saw one of my funney viralposts), you probably know that I've been writing a bunch of fanfiction for Stranger Things, which is set in rural Indiana in the early- to mid-eighties. I've been working on an AU where (among other things) Robin, a character confirmed queer in canon, gets integrated into a friend group made up of a number of main characters. And I got a comment that has been following me around in the back of my mind for a while. Amidst fairly usual talk about the show and the AU and what happens next, the commenter asked, apparently in genuine confusion, "why wouldn't Robin just come out to the rest of the group yet? They would be okay with it."
I did kind of assume, for a second or two, that this was a classic case of somebody confusing what the character knows with what the author/audience knows. But the more I think about it, the more I feel like it embodies a real generational shift in thinking that I hadn't even managed to fully comprehend until this comment threw it into sharp perspective.
Because, my knee-jerk reaction was to reply to the comment, "She hasn't come out to these people she's only sort-of known for less than a year because it's rural Indiana. In the nineteen-eighties." and let that speak for itself. Because for me and my peers, that would speak for itself. That would be an easy and obvious leap of logic. Because I grew up in a world where you assumed, until proven otherwise, that the general society and everyone around you was homophobic. That it was unsafe to be known to be queer, and to deliberately out yourself required intention and forethought and courage, because you would get negative reactions and you had to be prepared for the fallout. Not from everybody! There were always exceptions! But they were exceptions. And this wasn't something you consciously decided, it wasn't an individual choice, it wasn't an individual response to trauma, it wasn't individual. It was everybody. It was baked in, and you didn't question it because it was so inherently, demonstrably obvious. It was Just The Way The World Is. Everybody can safely be assumed to be homophobic until proven otherwise.
And what this comment really clarified for me, but I've seen in a million tiny clashing assumptions and disconnects and confusions I've run into with The Kids These Days, is that a lot of them have grown up into a world that is...the opposite. There are a lot of queer kids out there who are assuming, by default, that everybody is not homophobic, until proven otherwise. And by and large, the world is not punishing them harshly for making that assumption, the way it once would have.
The whole entire world I knew changed, somehow, very slowly and then all at once. And yes, it does make me feel like a complete space alien just arrived to Earth some days. But also, it makes me feel very hopeful. This is what we wanted for ourselves when we were young and raw and angrily shoving ourselves in everyone's faces to dare them to prove themselves the exception, and this is what I want for The Kids These Days.
(But also please, please, Kids These Days, do try to remember that it has only been this way since extremely recently, and no it is not crazy or pathetic or irrational or whatever to still want to protect yourself and be choosy about who you share important parts of yourself with.)
There is an additional layer to this thought, that only occurred to me this morning: it wasn't just queer people making this assumption that everybody was homophobic until proven otherwise. It was everybody. Which meant that homophobes were really, really comfortable with loudly and publicly sharing their views, because they assumed they were always in company that shared those views. And they tended to, as a rule, face far, far fewer social consequences for that than people did for existing and being known to be queer. I've seen commentary on a gifset of Anita Bryant (famous homophobic crusader) getting pied in the face on live national television that basically said the same thing: the moment the pie hit her proved to an audience of millions that, not only was that not always the case, but that the queer person you professed to hate might be in the room with you.
The general shift from social sanctioning of explicit, say-the-quiet-part-out-loud homophobia to it being widely regarded as kind of cringe and shameful has been due to a long, violent, constant, concerted effort on the part of queer people and those who love us. And I can never, ever take it for granted. I hope you won't either.
There were however, exceptions.
One is told in my family's lore. (I vouch for the broad strokes of this story. How much the details have been altered in the retelling, I cannot say.)
My 100+ year old grandma belongs to a church in a tiny town in very rural North Dakota (and lives in an even tinier town).
This church has the best cared for church building in town. They contribute money to a lot of charitable causes including the other churches.
And they don't pass a collection plate.
Where do they get the money?
Rewind to the 1960s. A young gay man, estranged from his family, is hitchhiking across the country. He happens to stop in this tiny town and goes to a tiny diner for lunch. There, he meets a group of church ladies, fresh from a sermon about "love your neighbor".
Curious about the newcomer, the church ladies befriend this young man. They get him to talk about being disowned. About having nothing but the contents of his bag. About how hitchhiking to New York.
Well this just won't do. Imagine a family disowning a nice young man like this. He needs a good meal. And a safe place to get a good night's sleep. And he needs his clothes laundered, er, maybe replaced. He needs some pocket money too. Young man, can you do $ODDJOB? Mildred, is your boy still trying to sell that old junker? Do you think it can be fixed up enough to make it to New York? We need to do right by our new son.
At some point in the next week or month, he end up coming out to them. And... it's fine. Maybe they don't all understand. But the young man is clearly hurting and obviously means well. And this is *absolutely* *no excuse* for disowning a son. Blood or no. Come Sunday, the minister has a pointed sermon about family duty, and how your duty to your children doesn't end when it becomes uncomfortable.
He was shown nothing but godly love and acceptance.
He ended up staying for a year. But there's not much potential in this town for a gay man. In the 1960s? In this bitty town in rural ND? There may not be a comparable life partner in 50 miles! (Actually there may well have been, but certainly none of them were out.)
When he moved on to New York, the congregation passed the hat to send him off with a stake. And so he left with a beater car, a small wardrobe, and some money in his pocket.
Decades later they found out what had become of him. He had somehow got himself set up and made it big on Wall Street. He was low key rich. And his Will left most of it as an Endowment for one tiny church in a tiny town in North Dakota.
(How he died is not a part of family lore, nor are the details of his life in NY. Given the timing it was likely AIDS or violence. But that's me guessing. )
Absolutely obsessed with the House renaissance happening on tumblr right now. Really glad everyone woke up 12 years after the show ended and went "Wait a minute. what the fuck was THAT"
When all the recent shows keep getting cancelled after a season or two and / or ruined with inane plot twists for "shock value", I'm not surprised that shows like House and The X-Files are becoming popular to discuss on Tumblr.
Yes excellent point. Elementary also seems to be getting a come back which is excellent bc it's the best Sherlock Holmes adaptation ever.
Leverage remains popular too.
For people looking for other older, fully complete (as in ended well and satisfyingly) shows I also rec;
Burn Notice (leverage fans will enjoy this. It's basically the same help the little guy, con the bad guys model, but with spies included)
White Collar (con man art thief gets a work release with the FBI white collar division. Fun and light mostly. Has a VERY shippable OT3)
Grimm (fantasy. Cop can suddenly see MONSTERS. If you can get past the lame German names for the creaturey people, and the way far too many of the people are white, it's great! Has the occasional dumb episode, but by and large a fun show)
Eureka (sci fi. Everyman normal dude becomes sheriff in town of super smart people. Lots of interesting characters and fun variety)
The Mentalist (fake psychic accidentally taunts a serial killer on national television. Serial killer murders his wife and daughter. He then spends six seasons working with the CBI to find the killer, and then gets a season and a half of growth after. One of my favorites)
The Librarians (fantasy. Several people have adventures while acting as mystical detectives kinda. Massive under explanation, but it's a complicated one sorry)
Bones (warning for VERY realistic dead bodies. The show kinda traded on the gore a bit. Over all not bad, though some of the characterization in later seasons is off)
Haven't watched Grimm and Eureka but can vouch for all the other recs! Popping back in to say out of all of these if you liked House specifically because you like tortured genius main characters who say off-kilter shit, you will almost certainly like The Mentalist. Not the same sub-genre of character, but definitely the same genre.
I did watch Grimm and Eureka and can vouch for them. I would also add:
Warehouse 13: A department of Mulders has to go out and find items which have been infused with magical energy and tend to wreck people and shit, and return them to the warehouse where they can be safely stored. Crossover with Eureka, same light-hearted sci-fi feel.
Leverage: Redemption: Same song as Leverage, different verses in a lower key.
Older, more episodic series have a lot going for them,
I'm personally watching
Wynonna Earp: The great great great granddaughter of Wyatt Earp inherits his magical gun Peacemaker, and has to use it put down the 77 Demonic Reverents of the people Wyatt killed. Has a wholesome raunch to it, an adorable Lesbian couple that the show stubbornly refuses to fridge, and gains a Gay Nerd of Color in the second season. Also Doc Holiday (yes, that Doc Holiday) is an immortal Man-slut.
This misses the point. It's not whether walruses exists. It's whether walruses leave the arctic regions, pass through a climate that would kill them because they're evolved to nap on ice blocks, somehow make their way to my yard, come up the stairs, and KNOCK. Even without the knocking, that's a lot of impossible.
A squirrel? No shock. Possum? It's happened. Corvid? Perfectly rational. Bear-- well, okay, but I'm gonna scream and run. Deer-- now we're getting into weird territory, because they may be around all the time, they don't do THAT. Kangaroo? Now we're moving into "this is impossible", despite the fact that Kangaroos definitely exist.
It's not "earth animal that exists vs. mythical creature that doesn't" and never has been. It's "an earth animal what cannot possibly be there vs. a creature that you may or may not have believed existed previously."
This is definitely a push poll by the way. This is how politicians gets results that say "85% of my constituents want this passed!"
Because they do not word the answers in a neutral manner, in a DELIBERATE attempt to skew the results the way they want. They ignore the real reason people answered the way they do (I know walruses are not in my area, I do not know the territorial range of a mythical creature) in order the force their own personal reasoning onto the poll answers.
Which is fine for a dumb little poll but you need to understand it's deceptive.
If there is a walrus on my door step then some theoretically understandable but wildly improbable chain of events has occurred. The mental state of Surprise might help me comprehend how that happened, what my part in this is, and how to deal with it.
If a Fae show up on my door step, there are Three possibilities. One is that someone is playing a prank on me. Two is that I am delusional, hallucinating or otherwise mentally damaged. Three is that everything I know or understand about the world is false.
In one, surprise just plays in to the prank, and it's best to ignore it.
In two or three, nothing that precedes will be logical or understandable anyway so the is no point in surprise.
Given that two or three are vanishingly unlikely anyway, I should treat it like case one.
To sum up: The real debate is between and actual walrus and some asshole pretending to be a fae.
And between those two the walrus is more surprising.
so if there’s one single trope i’m always down to fight it’s the animal bride (folklore motif 402??) which a lot of you are probably familiar with as the selkie - the fisherman either falls in love, steals her skin to trap her on land/gain power over her, or they fall in love and THEN he steals her skin to keep her from leaving, and either way she spends a lot of time gazing sadly out to sea and then she or her child finds the skin and never returns again.
and that’s awful on a whole lot of levels - it’s not love, it’s control.
BUT. but the thing is. you how selkies/seal women was a pretty common variation of this? another really popular one was swans.
i just want you to think about that for a moment. swans. like…I get it, they’re pretty, graceful birds, certainly it’s easy to imagine them magically becoming pretty graceful ladies? but have you ever fought a swan. swans are awful. swans are the devil’s geese. imagine seeing a pretty magic lady and being absolutely enchanted by her, and stealing her magic feather cloak, and then you go up and say ‘hey i’m in love with you, let me make you my queen, it will be great, we’ll be so happy’ and she just looks at you for a moment and…
you know i was going to say maybe she just shouts for her sisters and suddenly you’re realizing you’ve made a terrible terrible mistake bc you’re surrounded by big fucking birds who are all hissing. but honestly if this swan lady is as aggressively down to brawl as any other generally unhappy swan, then she’d straight up fuck you up on her own. she’d just deck you roundhouse, honestly. you don’t fuck with swans. why does this trope exist
okay but consider this: a woman walks to the park every day and feeds the swans and watches them paddle gracefully around the lake, sighing to see how beautifully they swim.
finally one day, a swan comes up to her and says ‘why don’t you come and swim with us? you always sigh so wistfully to see us on the water, and you would be most welcome to join our company, for you have always been a true friend to our kind’
and the woman says, ‘i can’t swim’
and the swan says, ‘we’ll teach you’
and the woman says, ‘literally i can’t swim, my husband stole my sealskin and should i venture into deep water i would surely drown’
and the swan says ‘your husband fucking WHAT’
the next morning the woman’s front yard looks like this.
and neither the woman nor her husband are ever heard from again, though for very different reasons.
I know a real-world mama swan who got shot in the wing and walked four miles overland to get back to her babies and dad swan, with her broken wing bleeding and dragging the whole way. She just kept going. Don’t mess with lady swans.
Also? Swans don’t have a lot of obvious physical markings that divide the males from females. So some idiot might be like, “damn, that’s a sexy bird, I wanna marry her” and then like. It’s a dude swan. You just transformed thirty pounds of angry aggressive bird into 200+ pounds of angry aggressive adult man, who will totally kick your butt. (Also I’m pretty sure that if you turned a lady swan into a human, you would not get a willowy little 5′0″ girl. You’d probably have a 6-foot amazon with biceps the size of your head. Swans are heavy birds and it takes a LOT of muscle to get them into the air. They are among the baddest bitches in the bird kingdom)
And when a swan decides to beat you up, it is not with fancy martial arts. Swans are brawlers. They have bone clubs built into their wing joints specifically for beating people up. A human swan is gonna come at you screaming and spitting and just keep punching you in the face until you regret every decision you have made ever in your life and also some of the ones your parents made too.
The sorcerer’s eyes scan the lake greedily. He’s been coming here for months, dreaming. Waiting.
Choosing.
And now it’s time.
“That one,” he tells the two men he hired earlier this morning, pointing one long, ring-adorned finger at the most beautiful swan. “Bring her to me.”
The henchmen don’t ask questions. He paid them specifically so they wouldn’t ask questions.
Even so, henchmen A glances at henchman B from the corner of his eye.
“Dude,” he says when they’re far enough way from the cackling sorcerer that they won’t be overheard, “why the hell does he want a swan?”
Henchman B shrugs. “What do these sorcerer types ever want?”
They near the water’s edge. “Okay, but,” Henchman A says, “he’s not going to try and fuck it, right? Because I’m sort of uncomfortable with beastiality–”
“Oh my god,” henchman B groans. “Just grab the swan.”
It takes a bit of cursing, flailing, and begrudging team work to grab the swan. When they finally manage to tuck her wings against her sides and grab hold of her neck to prevent her from biting she goes limp, making the strangest, saddest sound that the henchmen have ever heard.
“It’s okay,” Henchman A tells her bracingly, feet squelching as they haul her from the muddy lake’s edge to the sorcerer. “He’s probably not into beastiality. Very few people are.”
Henchmen B coughs and averts his eyes. “Uh, yeah. Right. Hey, you don’t think this was too easy? I mean, the other swans are just…watching. Us.”
Henchman A glances over his shoulder. Sure enough, floating on the lake are about two dozen swans, all curving their elegant necks so they can watch the fate of the swan hanging in between them. Rather than seeming alarmed, they seem…amused?
Henchman A looks away. “Nah, I’m sure it’s fine.”
The sorcerer jumps from foot to foot when they approach, clapping his hands together. “Good, good! Now just hold her there, hold her!”
The henchmen watch as the sorcerer visibly reigns himself in, breathing deeply. He begins to mutter in tongues for a very long time, an awkwardly long time. The henchmen glance at each other with their eyebrows raised. Sorcerers, man.
Suddenly the sorcerer’s head snaps up, eyes glowing a blazing black. He points his bejeweled finger at the swan who has remained suspiciously limp between them and hisses a short, ominous phrase.
Henchman A fights not to scream as a bolt of blue lightning flies at them. Henchman B drops his side of the swan and Henchman A follows suit just in time. The bolt strikes the swan and there’s a blinding flash as the sorcerer begins to cackle again.
“Behold!” he screams to the sky. “My bride!”
The spots clear from the henchmen’s eyes and they gape at the swan. Or rather where the swan should be. Instead there’s a woman there, crumpled on the ground, in a white, soft dress that’s already muddy.
She slowly lifts her head, her face pointed towards Henchman A. Her eyes snap open to reveal a swan’s eyes, a deep unending black that looks… not right on a human.
“Oh what the fuck,” Henchman A says.
The swan woman levers herself up. And up. And up. And up until she towers over them. There are thick cords of muscle at eye level, thick arms and a broad chest that lead to a very strong neck . Most of her body is hidden by her dress, but it doesn’t take a genius to guess that she’s built like a fucking tank.
She is very, very swan-like, henchman A realizes.
“Oh what the fuck,” henchman B says.
The woman smiles, showing off white, small teeth. “Welcome to the thunderdome, gentleman.”
Her fist feels like steel when it connects with Henchman A’s face and he thinks he hears his cheek break. He falls to the ground hard and doesn’t even try to stay conscious after a hit like that. The last thing he hears is what sounds like laughter from the direction of the lake.
Henchman B tries to run, but the swan woman is fast. She grabs the back of his collar and slings him to the ground, hissing and spitting. She hikes up her dress, showing built calves, and brings her heel slicing down onto his stomach. He reaches and chokes at the same time, moving belatedly to cover his head.
He needn’t bother. The swan woman seems to be done with him.
The sorcerer’s still standing in the spot from which he cast the spell, mouth agape. “B-but, you– you’re a swan? Wha–”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” the swan woman says. Her voice is scratchy and growls like she’s swallowed glass. It sounds a bit like the hissing merriment happening on the lake. “I’m not a swan. I’m your wife.” She cracks her knuckles. “And it’s time for our honeymoon.”
The sorcerer picks up his robes and flees into the forest. The swan woman is fine with that. The swan who’d had to deal with this last week said that its more fun when they run.
Okay, okay, but what about when it goes the other way? A gander once fell in love with my father and followed him around boop-ooping in the most adorable way. This gander was a fierce warrior who bit everyone else (except my sister who BIT HIM BACK) but he just up and decided that Dad was his true love. This often happens a LOT with birds, especially flock birds like geese, ducks, and swans.
So what does the wizard do when a swan comes to him wanting to be turned into a human? Does he summon his daughters to help her dress and makeup? Does his wife give her tips on seducing men? Cu.z heaven help her if she gets advice from a giant nerd like a wizard
“But I thought wizards were supposed to know everything!” the swan woman protested.
“Nope!” The wizard replied cheerfully. “We get a pass on all the humanities at Uni so we aren’t distracted by unnecessary human interaction. The best I can tell you is that usually when I send folks off to get something they have to kill a dragon or save a princess or something. So go impress the object of your affections with grand deeds I guess!”
So swan woman goes off to woo her chosen, flexing her biceps thoughtfully as she went.
Swan Woman needs to go save a warrior princess who’s bolted in a tower for Stupid Patriarchal Reasons and REALLY needs to get out and go lead her troops to save her kingdom.
Bonus points if the warrior princess is betrothed to the neighboring land’s prince. He used to be a seahorse until a wizard used him for transmogrification practice. He and the princess actually like and respect each other and have worked out an open marriage agreement for whenever they actually get hitched; he just can’t get into the Tower to complete the quest.
Messenger: Your Majesty, the Dark Lord has allied with the orcish hoard! They are marching toward the border as we speak!
General: We will be completely overwhelmed. Our main forces are committed elsewhere. It will take weeks to move them across the country. Unless we can slow them down, we have no chance.
Queen: Very well. Send for the Royal Sorcerer and his apprentices. We ride for the Royal Swan Sanctuary at dawn.
Lord Dickhead: … Swan Sanctuary?! This is no time to look at pretty birds! You abandon your duty to your kingdom! I insult you patriarchally!
Queen: Why do you think we have a Swan Sanctuary? Why do you think I personally visit every spring? Why do you think the attendants take care to feed and socialize every cygnet?
We have perhaps 3000 swans on that land. Every one of them knows me, practically from the egg. All of them are used to humans. And all of them fight like maniacs.
With the transformation potions and light arms we have stocked there, we can make a small army of berserker troops in mere days.
They won’t be the best trained troops in the world. But as an emergency reserve, I think we can buy a few weeks. Will that do General?
General: …. It just might. I’m glad I’m not an orc.
Thing is, you're going at it wrong. "Is Jasnah's atheism an accurate belief?" boils down to "what does 'god' mean to Jasnah?", not "what does 'god' mean to modern American Christians?" or even "what does 'god' mean to the average Vorin?".
And even then it's still missing the point. Because a big part of Jasnah's characterization in the WoK is
"Even IF your God existed, your *Church* is still messed up".
And "Everyone else cares about my atheism more then I do, I'm trying to work on real problems here folks!"
And "Sigh, I've seen your so called proof before. It doesn't prove what you think it does, and even if it did, see above."
And all that made her very very relatable to real world Atheists.
I've read too many ham-handed flat earth atheists
That isn't relatable. A character insisting there are no gods in a world that obviously and manifestly has gods is not being skeptical or rational. That does not match how atheists see themselves.
But Brandon Sanderson wrote a relatable atheist in a world with real Gods. That's a feat.
It helps that when the gods started to say hello, Jasnah just rolled with it, rather then stupid insisting that they didn't exist.
And, as expected, the existence of gods did nothing to change Jasnah's very real issues with the Vorin Church.
if he was still alive I know in my heart that Terry Pratchett would have done a bit about Igors and Igorinas doing gender confirmation surgery by now. going into a lab full of bubbling vials and picking out a penis from a tank the way you pick a lobster. that one, please. you gotta be careful though because they'll really try to upsell you into getting two or three installed. people going to the clinic as pairs and just having parts swapped out for a discounted rate. maybe you actually just trade brains, that's even easier. Igorth have already been doing that thurgery for thenturieth.
Everyone knew it was best not to look too closely at Igor's jars.
Vimes was beginning to wish he had looked more closely at the most recent additions before Igor came lurching up the stairs to inform him:
"They have ethcaped, thir."
"Escaped. What has escaped, Igor."
"Thome of my.. appendageth, thir."
"Appendages."
"Yeth, thir. Of the... intimate variety."
"Of the intimate..." Vimes trailed off as the dawning horror overwhelmed his vocal cords.
He rallied. "Igor. HOW have they escaped? They are not known for their... perambulatory abilities."
"Really, thir? I've alwayth found them to have a mind of their own at timeth."
Vimes was staying calm. Yes. That was it. He was staying very calm. Definitely NOT thinking AT ALL about how Vetinari and... Good lord, The Times, would react to marauding pack of penises. Would it be a pack? Or would they go off on their own?
"I wath exthperimenting with cuthtom grown oneth, you know. For thothe who cannot grow their own."
"Err... what? Of course you were. I mean. Very good."
#[a loud crash is heard from the lab] #[another igor runs past with a giant butterfly net. stopping briefly at the door to shriek 'THE VULVATHS''] (via @the-wave-finally-broke)
It turns out to be a brilliant feat of advertisement, as the people too shy or uncertain to go visit Igor rightaway effectively get a chance to discretely window-shop in public.
An unfortunate side effect being that a small girl, denied of her rightful need to be a Horse Girl by the limitations of being a native Ankh-Morpork child[1], would have adopted one of the larger Appendages of the pack and named it Free Willy. Her insistence that she could understand her pet through a bond of mutual sympathy was both touching and troubling, as was her announcement that Free Willy did not want to be attached to a governing body and forced into service, saddled with clothing, or made to perform tricks for audiences. With no Igor having the heart [2] to take it from her, the child was allowed to keep Free Willy, who lived for five healthy years in her family’s pigeon loft and eventually passed away from natural causes after a battle with another fighting cock. The child went on to write a well-acclaimed children’s book, The Willy that Would Be Free, which was, necessarily, a pop-up book.
[1] where an ordinary working class child CAN form a magical bond with a horse, in the form of a pie, labeled as beef.
