I'm Eternal Phantom. This is where I do fanfics, occasional fanart, and reblogs cool stuff from other people. (Also I am working on the next chapter of Mirror's Gaze, but asking me about it tends to make me feel guilty and depressed about taking so long so please don't. You can ask about the series itself, just not the next chapter.
This was so obvious when I realized it, but I think most people miss it, because we’re so desensitized by D&D-style magic with immediate, visibly, flashy effects, rather than more subtle and invisible forces of magic. When Gollum attacks Frodo on the slopes of Mount Doom, Frodo has the chance to kill him, but he doesn’t. Instead, he says:
Frodo: Go! And if you ever lay hands on me again, you yourself shall be cast into the Fire!
Frodo’s not just talking shit here. He is literally, magically laying a curse. He’s holding the One Ring in his hands as he says it; even Sam, with no magic powers of his own, can sense that some powerful mojo is being laid down. Frodo put a curse on Gollum: if you try to take the Ring again, you’ll be cast into the Fire.
Five pages later, Gollum tries to take the Ring again. And that’s exactly what happens. Frodo’s geas takes effect and Gollum eats lava.
All the other people in the franchise who were offered the Ring declined to take it because they were wise enough to know that if they used its power – and the pressure to do so would be too great – they would be subject to its corruption.
Frodo uses the power of the Ring to lay a geas, and then five minutes later at the volcano’s edge, succumbs to its corruption. The Ring has gotten to him and he can no longer give it up. Because he used its power.
On further further reflection: I’d have to read the section again, but I recall that after throwing Gollum off and laying the geas, Sam observes that Frodo seems suddenly filled with energy again when previously he had been close to dead of fatigue. He hikes up the mountain so fast he leaves Sam behind – and doesn’t even seem to notice that he’s left him behind.
Could he have been drawing on the Ring’s power at this point in the story? At this point in the story we’re relying on Sam’s narration, and Sam doesn’t know what’s going on in Frodo’s head, so it’s hard to say for sure. Having used it once, after spending so long holding out against it, was that the breach in the dam?
Which means that the moment that Frodo succumbs to temptation is not the moment at the volcano – it was already too late by then. The moment he is taken by temptation was when he used the power of the Ring to repel Gollum.
If so, this ties in neatly with discussions I’ve seen about how Tolkien subscribes to a “not even once” view of good and evil – that in many other works it’s acceptable to do a small evil in service of a greater good, but in Lord of the Rings that always fails.
Re-reading Fellowship of the Rings, and I got to this passage in Lorien:
‘I would ask one thing before we go,’ said Frodo, ‘a thing which I often meant to ask Gandalf in Rivendell. I am permitted to wear the One Ring: why cannot I see all the others and know the thoughts of those that wear them?’
‘You have not tried,’ [Galadriel] said. ‘Only thrice have you set the Ring upon your finger since you knew what you possessed. Do not try! It would destroy you. Did not Gandalf tell you that the rings give power according to the measure of each possessor? Before you could use that power you would need to become stronger, and to train your will to the domination of others.’
In other words:
Frodo asks Galadriel, herself carrying a Ring of Power, “Could I, hypothetically, use the power of the One Ring to do something magical aside from turning invisible?” and Galadriel replies, “Yes, hypothetically, you totally could, assuming the magic you want to do involves laying compulsions on others, but I strongly recommend against it, because it would fuck up your brain.”
This was in the first book. At the end of the third book Frodo uses the Ring to fuck Gollum up, forcing him to throw himself into lava if he disobeys Frodo’s commands.
Got to this point in my re-read and uh. This was a lot less subtle than I remembered it.
‘Down, down!’ [Frodo] gasped, clutching his hand to his breast, so that beneath the cover of his leather shirt he clasped the Ring. ‘Down, you creeping thing, and out of my path! Your time is at an end. You cannot slay me or betray me now.’
Then suddenly, Sam saw these two rivals with other vision. A crouching shape, scarcely more than the shadow of a living thing, a creature now wholly ruined and defeated, yet filled with a hideous lust and rage; and before it stood stern, untouchable now by pity, a figure robed in white, but at its breast it held a wheel of fire. Out of the fire there spoke a commanding voice.
‘Begone, and trouble me no more! If you touch me ever again, you shall be cast yourself into the Fire of Doom.’
Then the vision passed and Sam saw Frodo standing, hand on breast, his breath coming in great gasps, and Gollum at his feet, resting on his knees with his wide-splayed hands upon the ground.
Interestingly, I feel that there is another layer to this, and that is Frodo’s mercy (mirroring “the pity of Bilbo” which Gandalf said would prove significant) at play, tangled up in his use of the Ring and the chain of events that would play out.
Frodo is sparing Gollum’s life here, and shaping that into his curse. He is only cursing Gollum—can only curse Gollum—as an effect of this mercy; if Gollum were dead, he could not be cursed by Frodo or the Ring; his survival makes the curse possible and serves as payment for the curse: they are in effect making a bargain here, wherein Golllum’s life and his sentence of dying in the Fires of Doom should he take the Ring again are as one, a package deal, which Gollum “accepts” by retreating with his life.
Then, once Frodo comes to Mount Doom, he cannot cast the ring into the fires; the Ring has him in thrall, since he has used it. Now into the picture again comes Gollum, whose greed for the Ring has surpassed his love of his own life—even having been cursed with death should he touch it again, he craves it and demands it for himself, taking it from Frodo by force.
Thus we see the Ring’s power divided against itself—it has defeated both Frodo and Gollum, and its defeat of Gollum inspires Gollum to fight Frodo for it, invoking the curse. And thus Sauron, who has it, now, by virtue of both its erstwhile Bearers falling under its (and therefore its Lord’s) sway, is cheated out of it by the effects of Frodo’s act of mercy.
Frodo spared Gollum, and used the Ring’s power to set a curse, and when Frodo faltered, it was Gollum whom he spared who took the Ring from him and invoked that curse, falling into the Fires of Doom and, due to the same greed that defeated Frodo, taking the Ring with him.
If there had been no sparing Gollum, there would have been no curse, and Frodo would have had the task Isildur failed at—destroying the (beautiful, useful, lovely ring)—set before him alone, and he may have succeeded, or he may have failed, or he may have tarried too long in the struggle for Sauron’s destruction to come in a timely fashion, or the resolution and the Ring’s destruction may have hurt him far beyond the loss of a finger.
Instead, there was Gollum, in thrall to Sauron yet doomed by Frodo, to take from Frodo both the Ring and the burden of destroying it. Frodo, in his mercy-tinged use of the Ring, effectively shifted the impetus behind the Ring’s destruction from himself to the doom laid on Gollum—and Sauron’s hold over Gollum made it a near certainty that the doom would come to pass: Gollum would die, and not surrender the Ring, and thus the Ring would fall with him into the fires of Mount Doom.
And Frodo … like Indiana Jones in the Chapel of the Holy Grail, could avoid falling himself by either a willingness to let go, or the presence of a loved one to hold him back. Or, y’know, Gollum deciding to bite rather than just grab. A few more options here.
This really hearkens back to old Celtic mythological geasa, and how so often someone dies because of a forced contradiction of a geas’ rules. A geas essentially allows for an easy setup of a no-win situation.
The warrior-poet-king Cú Chulainn was, eventually, brought down because he was bound by a geas. His geas was to never eat the flesh of a dog (I believe by Culann, but I’m not sure on that). Well, he got served some dog stew. He couldn’t eat it, because it was dog. But he couldn’t not eat it, because that would be extremely rude, according to cultural custom at the time - a custom so strong, it might as well have been a geas on its own. Either way, he was breaking a geas’ rules, and this magically weakens him before an upcoming battle. He - and his charioteer and horse - are slain
So, yeah, this all tracks with how geasa work. Gollum had such a strong desire for the ring that he, quite literally, had no choice but to attack Frodo for it. But, in doing so, he contradicts the geas Frodo laid upon him, and so falls.
Just came across this while reading The Two Towers:
[Frodo to Gollum]: “’I did not mean the danger that we all share,’ said Frodo. ‘I mean a danger to yourself alone. You swore a promise by what you call the Precious. Remember that! It will hold you to it; but it will seek a way to twist it to your own undoing. Already you are being twisted. You revealed yourself to me just now, foolishly. Give it back to Smeagol you said. Do not say that again! Do not let that thought grow in you! You will never get it back. But the desire of it may betray you to a bitter end. You will never get it back. In the last need, Smeagol, I should put on the Precious; and the Precious mastered you long ago. If I, wearing it, were to command you, you would obey, even if it were to leap from a precipice or to cast yourself into the fire. And such would be my command. So have a care, Smeagol!’”
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The fact that “dolls having a tea party” has stuck around in the public consciousness is fascinating to me.
Like, back in the Old Days that would be a way that women would actually socialize. So if a girl had a doll tea party, she was imitating her mom / other contemporary women.
But these days contemporary women don’t have tea parties. So now, the idea of “dolls having a tea party” is an echo of an extinct behavior, only repeated and referenced because it used to be so prevalent.
So a Barbie in a big hat themed for a tea party is a bit like if they made Transformers that turned into stagecoaches and horse-drawn buggies.
i do like to interpret the way logan struggled shapeshifting out of the robot puppet form in lntao as at least in part due to feeling comfortable in it.
always thinking about logan choosing to be a robot puppet specifically and going "beep boop" unprompted about it. saying it's "quite invigorating" which with logan at this point starting to claim it's never felt anything is no small expression. logan i know what you are (robobt).
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i’m back in the fucking building again (school) so to cope i’m gonna reread gravesides and probably sideways and take notes on things i find cool or interesting or funny or aura or poggers or swag and then when im done im gonna show it to you/post it somewhere for fun okay? okay 👍
-hove (@pattons-time-capsule)
That would honestly be awesome! Nothing encourages writing like someone really enjoying your fic!
#imma be so fr#i start GS chap 1 and i had a lot to say about Logan just for the first paragraph#having the fic take place near/right after SvS:R but before Nico and SPECIFICALLY before WTIT feels so important for the Events-#-that happen to him#god. i won’t go all the way into rn but FUCK gs!Logan drives me crazy#gravesides
I recently reread the first chapter and Logan refusing to help because he won't entertain denial is just painful when you know what's coming.
i’m back in the fucking building again (school) so to cope i’m gonna reread gravesides and probably sideways and take notes on things i find cool or interesting or funny or aura or poggers or swag and then when im done im gonna show it to you/post it somewhere for fun okay? okay 👍
-hove (@pattons-time-capsule)
That would honestly be awesome! Nothing encourages writing like someone really enjoying your fic!
Grave Sides Chapter 5 Tumblr why won't you let me insert links to my fics anymore
“This is a bad idea,” Talyn stated for what felt like the twelfth time.
“It has to happen.” Thomas said solemnly, petting the cat around his neck for comfort. The cat purred and rubbed back against him.
“Talking to your friends has to happen.” Joan countered. “What does not have to happen, is it happening in your living room. Your haunted living room.”
“Any living room with me in it is haunted by default now,” Thomas countered, trying to sound more light-hearted than he felt about it.
But Joan wasn’t having it. “You know what we’re talking about, Thomas.”
“You certainly do, as I’ve been telling you the same.” Janus crossed his arms. “There is nothing to gain by putting yourself in a position to see your death echo except more mental trauma, and you’re already coping with the rest of the past twenty-four hours. As your Self-Preservation I am highly against this.”
“I heard what you’re saying. All three of you,” Thomas said with only mild aggravation. “But we all spent the whole day looking up death echoes and we didn’t find much aside from the fact that they exist and they’re usually more active around the anniversary of the death they represent. I can’t avoid my house forever and my living room is big enough to fit everyone. If it’s there…” Thomas shrugged. “I just want to go home. Maybe it was stronger yesterday because that was the day it happened and it will be gone today. And that’s wishful thinking, not denial,” Thomas was quick to clarify.
“If it’s there, we’re leaving.” Talyn said. “I watched you die once when I was too late to stop it and I never want to have to do that again.”
“That’s… fair.” Thomas winced.
“What, you thought you were the only one traumatized by yesterday?” Virgil asked in a snide tone, from where he was laying across the top of a backseat in a way that would have totally blocked Joan’s view of the rear-view window if they could see him.
Kind of, yes. “Sorry. You guys don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”
Talyn looked back, a very judgmental eyebrow raised. "You really think either of us would let you deal with this talk alone?"
"I don't know that 'alone' is something I really can be anymore." Thomas pointed out. "Now that my imaginary friends are not-so-imaginary."
"You were never 'alone' without us before," Janus added. "While we are more 'real' than prior, you did consider us individuals even while acknowledging we were imaginary."
"So you're saying you can stand in front of all of our friends, most of whom won't have the heads up from last night, and tell them flat out you're undead, and be fine?" Joan asked pointedly.
"I-" Thomas glanced at Janus.
"You're not going to be fine either way," Janus said bluntly. "And it will be worse without them there, thus I would prefer them to be there."
"I thought you said you were still all about lying to other people?" Thomas questioned.
"For your benefit," Janus clarified. "This would be to your detriment. Ergo, I am against it."
Thomas buried his face in his hands.
"So what's going on in Imaginary Friend Land?" Joan asked.
"My former Deceit is making me face that 'fine' isn't on the table for the foreseeable future." Thomas admitted. He slumped out against the car seat and looked out the window. "What if they think I'm a monster? I mean, I am a monster, sort of."
"You're not a monster, Kiddo. Just a little spooky, like Virgil,remember?" Patton reminded him.
"Patton, I'm pretty sure if you looked up the definition of 'undead', the word monster would literally be there."
"Actually Merriam-Webster simply defines undead as 'returned from death by supernatural means'," Logan quoted, appearing suddenly in the seat next to him, causing Thomas to jump.
"See?" Patton said.
"It is also of note that all examples given for the word's definitions are fictional, because the undead don't exist," Logan said pointedly.
"And there goes the hope things were back to normal," Roman bemoaned.
"Back to normal..." Thomas echoed morosely.
The cat mewled, as if sensing the drop in his mood and climbed up on his chest, purring as she pressed her head against his forehead. Thomas couldn’t help the smile that graced his lips.
“Have you come up with a name for her yet?” Joan asked, also hearing the drop in Thomas’s mood from his voice.
“Coming up with one wasn’t the hard part. Reaching a consensus, on the other hand…” Thomas rolled his eyes. “Patton wants to call her Fluffles, Roman thinks she needs a regal name like Freyja, Virgil went with Mewcipher, Janus thinks calling her ‘Our Little Secret’ is cute, and Remus wants to call her ‘Violin String’, Lin for short.” Thomas rolled his eyes. “And Logan refuses to acknowledge she exists. I kind of like Wisp.” Thomas rubbed the top of her head and she leaned into the touch.
“You do have the clear advantage of being the only one who can tell other people what the cat’s name is.” Talyn pointed out.
Thomas chuckled at the loud offended noises only he could hear coming from most of the Sides, as well as an annoyed huff from Roman. “You’re right, and they do not like that.”
“Sucks to suck,” Joan said, and Thomas couldn’t help but laugh at the even more offended noises.
When they got to his house, Thomas held Wisp in his arms, hoping she just looked like a bundle of fluff to anyone who happened to see her. As quickly as he could, he turned the key in the door and walked in. A quick glance through the kitchenette showed nothing on the couch, so hopefully his death echo would continue not making an appearance.
“See, we’re in the clear,” He said lightly, dropping Wisp gently on the couch, only for Patton to immediately scoop her up.
“That is still so weird.” Talyn said, seeing the ghost cat snuggling with someone he couldn’t see.
“Guess I should clean up a bit before company gets here.” That would at least make Logan happy. Thomas started grabbing stuff off the table. Napkins and soda cans and the box of pizza…the pizza he was eating when…
“Thomas?” Joan asked as his body started to fade and flicker.
“I died here,” Thomas whispered. “I died alone. Just like Remus told me I would.”
“You’re never alone!” Patton reminded him, doing his best to not look at Joan and Talyn’s stricken faces. “We’re always here! And now you’ve got this lovely lady! And your friends to support you.”
“It was so quick.” Thomas seemed lost in his mind. “No time to call for help. Just pain and then nothing. And then…” he seemed to take notice of his fading self. “And then I was this.”
“‘This’ is not a bad thing.” Roman insisted gently. “I will not pretend to like how, but, Thomas, you have been chosen by fate to be the one thing standing between everything we love and an annihilation that would have happened anyway. Because you are ‘this’, they will have a chance to live.”
“As much as Roman will hate it, I agree with him,” Janus said. “We looked oblivion in the eye and are still standing. We have triumphed over death.”
“Plus we can cross ‘dying alone’ off the bucket list,” Remus said gleefully.
“Could you NOT?!” Roman snapped.
“Hey, look at me.” Virgil made sure Thomas’s attention was on him. “It’s going to be okay. And that’s me saying this. Not Patton. Not Princey. Me. And you know me, I don’t sugar-coat things. Was what happened last night horrible? Yes. Did it validate quite a few specific fears of mine? Also yes. Are we going to have nightmares about it for the rest of our existence? Hell to the yes. But it’s also going to get better. You have us. You’ve a bunch of friends who know you’re undead- or at least potentially undead, and they all still love you. And after tonight it’s going to be even more. You don’t have to do any of this alone. This is hella fucking scary. And sad. And all sorts of feelings that Patton’s going to be allergic to. But we’re going to come out the other end better than we’ve ever been. Promise.”
“You can’t promise that.” Thomas muttered.
“Did I or did I not successfully give you CPR as an imaginary friend? Don’t underestimate what I can do, Sanders.” Virgil gave him a crooked smile.
“What am I going to do?” Thomas looked to Joan and Talyn.
Joan bumped into him playfully. “One day at a time, like the rest of us. Today all you have to worry about is getting through telling everyone what happened and we can all work out our next steps, together.”
“I just wanted to come home. I didn’t… I don’t want to be dead.” Thomas’s voice hitched. “Sure my life isn’t perfect, but it’s mine. I’m not ready for it to be over. I’m not ready to move on or fade away. I just… I just want to live.” The last words came out as a broken sob. “I want to be alive. I want to find someone to fall in love with. I want to make my videos and act on stage and eat pizza and hang out with my friends!” The light began to shine out from under his skin again as the flickering became more rapid. “I’m not ready for it to be over!” Tears and snot were pouring down Thomas’s face, and he tried ineffectively to wipe them away.
“Good,” Joan said. “Because we’re not ready for it to be over either.” They put one arm gently over Thomas’s shoulders and thankfully didn’t pass through him. “Even if you’re dead-” Joan tried to hide just how devastated the word made them, “-you’re not gone. You’re still here with us. You can still eat pizza, hang with us, and make videos. And if you can get a handle on the going through things stuff and the turning invisible stuff, you can probably go back to stage work just fine.”
“What you have is probably more like a disability than being dead-dead.” Talyn sat on the opposite side of Thomas. “Maybe you can’t do all the things you did before. Or you have to find new ways to do things because your body can’t do them the way you used to. And maybe some people are going to be weird and gross about it. But fuck them. You’ve got us and Lee and Mary Lee and Terrance and Valerie and, after tonight, everyone else too. We’ve got you, Thomas. We’re not letting you go.” He leaned against Thomas, letting him sob out his feelings. This breakdown was probably overdue from last night, and was also likely to be the first of many.
Thomas pulled them in close and likewise Joan and Talyn started to flicker in and out of visibility. They locked eyes and immediately agreed they weren’t going to mention this, they were just going to go with it. They held onto each other, keeping Thomas in the middle.
Virgil opened his mouth to point out what was happening to their friends, but Patton cut him off. “It’s okay,” he said in a kind but firm voice.
“We don’t know that,” Virgil argued.
“It’s okay.” Patton repeated. He knelt down besides Thomas and began gently rubbing his back. “Change is hard, even good change. And while Roman’s right and good may yet come of this, right now it’s just painful. Thomas has a lot of feelings right now. I’ve got them all in here.” Patton laid his off hand over his chest. “Bottling them up will just turn them to poison, he needs to get this out. It… it hurts too much to keep them inside.”
Virgil gave him a flat look, knowing Patton knew he wasn’t talking about the crying.
Patton just gave him a soft smile back. He knew it wasn’t Virgil’s forte, but sometimes you just had to have faith that things were okay, because believing otherwise would crush you.
“I’m sorry,” Thomas continued to cry, unclear what he was apologizing for. “I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about. None of this is your fault.” Joan promised.
“Do you need to not be here?” Talyn asked.
“I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know anything.” Thomas’s voice hitched.
“Let’s go upstairs,” Talyn suggested. Outside would likely draw attention right now with Thomas’s breakdown, and people would see the flickering and everything would go to hell. But at the same time being on the spot where he died was obviously doing him no favors.
Joan stood, pulling Thomas up with them. He was light, why was he so light? Joan felt they could probably carry Thomas up the stairs in a bridal or fireman carry and not even feel winded. Still, they could save pointing out any strange physiology until after Lee got here.
Thomas nodded and took a deep breath. He looked like he was trying to hold himself together, at least long enough to go up the stairs. It was a tight squeeze, as neither Joan nor Talyn were willing to let go of him, but they made it work.
At least until Joan felt a strange sensation, like earlier with the shelf, and suddenly their leg went through the stair. They tried to catch themself on the railing, but their hand passed through that as well.
Thomas let go of both them and Talyn and flattened himself against the wall, doing his best not to touch either of them. “I’m sorry,”
“No big,” Joan said, catching themself before they slid down the staircase and pulling themself back up. “We already know sometimes you phase out what you’re touching. It’s just like earlier with the cereal shelf or your bear.”
“And don’t jump around on the stairs,” Virgil scolded.
“Or what?” Thomas snapped at Virgil. “I might fall, break my neck, and die? I think we missed the boat on that death.”
“We can add it to the new bucket list!” Remus said cheerfully.
“Arrrrrrgh,” Thomas groaned in frustration, there were too many emotions in him. Grief and anger and confusion and loss and-
“And we’re not doing this.” Joan grabbed Thomas’s arm and pulled him over their shoulder, said shoulder and face brightly illuminated by the light trying to escape from under Thomas’s skin.
That was enough to shock Thomas out of his spiral. “Since when could you do that?” he yelped, flailing a little.
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Right now, better for Thomas to think Joan was stronger than they looked, rather than Thomas get something else strange about him pointed out. “We know you can channel your powers through things and people you touch. That’s not going to stop us from touching you, moron.”
“But what if you get hurt? What if you die too and it’s because you were around me?”
“Death isn’t contagious,” Talyn pointed out.
“It is if it’s from an infectious disease. Do you think there’s such a thing as ghost prion disease?” Remus asked eagerly.
“No, because ghost don’t have protein to unravel.” Virgil countered. “And even if Thomas did, because he’s still got a body even as a ghost, Joan and Talyn would have to, like, eat his brains to catch it from him, so as long as they don’t get zombified, it’s not an issue. And if they do get zombified, we have much bigger issues.”
“I can’t argue with that,” Thomas sighed.
“Good," Joan said, carrying him into his room and judo flipping him onto the bed.
“Not that I-” Thomas covered his face with his hands. “Imaginary friends conversation.”
“Anything we need to worry about?” Talyn asked.
“We settled on we don’t have to worry if ghost prion disease is a thing because if it is, you’d only catch it if you were zombies eating my brains, and that if that were happening, prion disease would be the least of my worries." There was a sort of weary exasperation in his voice.
Joan and Talyn shared a look. “Remus?”
“Remus,” Thomas sighed in agreement.
“Hate to say it, but given everything in the last twenty-four hours, Remus is probably going to become the biggest bitch of his life. This is not going to be intrusive-thought friendly.”
“Oh I think recent events have been very friendly to me. Not only in terms of material for me to work with, but knowing we’re immortal, and the fun never stops.”
“Oh God, I might be immortal.” Thomas let his head fall to the pillow with a quiet thud. “I’m going to be stuck on Earth long after everyone I love dies and I’ll never get into heaven.”
“Thomas, look at me. I’m going to tell you something everyone with intrusive thoughts would love to hear, but it’s only true in your specific case.” Joan waited until Thomas was looking them in the eye. “You can punch your intrusive thoughts.”
Thomas blinked and the Sides started sharing worried looks between them.
“My intrusive thoughts? They’re just my brain being an asshole to me and I can’t do anything about them except accept they happen and try to move on," Joan continued. "Your intrusive thoughts are a guy named Remus and you can absolutely just punch him in the face.”
“Do it! Do it!” Remus cheered, pointing right at his cheek.
“I might pass on that. Remus, uh, he’s kinda of giving the impression he’d be into it,” Thomas said, more than a little unnerved.
“Come on, Daddy, hit me as hard as you can. I’ve been such a bad little boy.”
“Nope! I am not engaging with that.” Thomas very nearly flipped himself off the bed. “You are a part of my mind, I am begging you, don’t ever call me ‘Daddy’ again.”
“Janus, can’t you shut him up?” Virgil bemoaned, pulling his hoodie tight over his head.
“You think I haven’t tried?” Janus said dryly. “Logan said it enough back when he was in full control of his faculties. One cannot force intrusive thoughts from one’s head. The more I were to try, the more they would be reinforced. Remus cannot be silenced. But perhaps a change in direction?” Janus strode over to Remus and whispered in his ear. “Thomas is already such a wreck, Darling. There’s no challenge in it. But didn’t you say you wanted a shot at the know-it-all who stole my eye?”
“You’re right, it’s no fun when he does half the work for me. And Logan should be fit to explode.” Remus snickered back lightly. “I’ll be back later, Daddy.” Remus waved to Thomas as he sunk out.
“Janus, you are the best self-preservation.” Thomas was almost crying again, this time in relief.
“Remember he’s not gone for good, and he’s going to continue the ‘Daddy’ thing because he knows it bothers you. When he returns you must do your best to tune the name out so he’ll get bored. I already plan on speaking to him later, do not worry.”
“That’s still something. I usually rely on Logan when he gets to be too much.” There was a choking quality to Thomas’s voice. He needed Logan as his Logic now more than ever. But Logan wasn’t Logic anymore, and any advice he’d give would hurt more than it would help. And he’d vanished during the car ride and not shown up since. Was he sulking again, or was Virgil’s earlier statement coming true and he was having a harder time escaping the Mind Palace? “I miss him.”
“We all miss him,” Janus promised solemnly. “And we will all be relieved when he comes to his senses. But until that happy day, we must make do. Patton, might you fetch little Secret? I believe Thomas could use her comfort right now.”
"On it!" Patton gave a silly salute, though the sadness in his eyes betrayed how much Thomas's heartache was still affecting him.
"Excellent. Now Thomas, poor substitute that I am, I am at least going to try and take up Logan's usual torch. You did die last night. There is nothing you, or I, or anyone could do to change that, much as I would love to. But Joan and Talyn raised excellent points as well. You are not gone. Given the standard cost of death, you have lost very little indeed. There are adjustments to be made, but life will go on. And we will make sure of it."
Janus shot a significant look to Roman, who looked taken aback. Janus held the look, but realized Roman was not understanding his significance. Later, then.
"As Talyn suggested, we will be treating this as a disability. I'd like you to take a week off from any work. You may write scripts if the inspiration strikes, but I want you more settled before you try to dive back in. Joan was correct last night in that these changes seem more in tune with your emotions, so I believe the biggest way we can regain control is work on emotional management."
"Like repression?" Virgil wrinkled his nose.
"Dear God, no, that's a recipe for disaster if ever there was one." Janus shuddered. "More the same methods Logan would recommend against Remus on a grander scale. Feeling, emotions, understanding them, but not being overwhelmed by them. Mindfulness and meditation. That being said," Janus put a gentle hand on Thomas's shoulder. "Do not think you are not allowed to grieve what you have lost. Do not think there is any shame in crying or breaking down. You didn't deserve this, Thomas. We may need to keep a lid on things with the world at large, but with your support system- with us, we will be here for you."
“For now let’s get you cleaned up.” Roman suggested. “Looking good and feeling good are tied together, and right now you look a fright.”
Virgil elbowed him hard.
“What?” Roman looked confused as Patton came back in with the cat.
“I think Virgil was thinking saying I looked a fright would be reminding me I’m a spooky ghost.” Thomas sighed. “But you’re not wrong. I’ll splash some cold water on my face so I can be somewhat presentable when everyone shows up. I’ll grab her in a moment, Patton, since historically cats don’t like water.” Did that apply to ghost cats? Who knew? Not him. He pushed himself the rest of the way off the bed and into the bathroom.
“Okay, Imaginary Friends, real talk, real fast.” Talyn clapped his hands together, staring at the cat since that was the general direction he thought they all were in. “You guys need to be a lot more circumspect in public than you have been. It’s fine around us, since we know. But if Thomas starts doing this around other people, it might be a problem. So just keep quiet or in his head around strangers, cool?”
Patton nodded the cat’s head up and down to show they were listening. She squeaked indignantly.
“That works,” Talyn acknowledged, taking a moment to internalized just how weird life had become in the last twenty-four hours.
“Also Roman, as Thomas is out of the room for a few minutes, we must speak quickly,” Janus interjected.
Roman crossed his arm in challenge. “About what?”
“You are the key to Thomas’s future.”
“Really? Because it sounds like you’re trying to butter me up again?” Roman snarked back.
Janus pinched his nose. He didn’t have the time or patience for this. “Roman, everything I suggested to Thomas will help with the problems he has now. However, there is a far greater problem coming up that we cannot ignore.”
“Thomas may well be as immortal as Remus claims, but it is an immortality that will only last while existence itself does. We are the sole thing standing between our world and it’s end. We don’t know how long till the cracks will start to show, but when they do…” Janus looked to the bathroom where they could still hear the water running. “Thomas will have to stand up. He will have to be brave, confident, a hero. And that? That’s going to be on you. You are his confidence. His courage. You are his hero, so you will have to guide him. Patton’s too soft, Virgil too scared, myself too selfish, Remus too chaotic, and Logan too delusional. We can keep him in one piece, but you have to light his way forward. I wish I could ask you if you were up for it, but there is no room for questions. You must be.”
Roman gulped, looking visibly nervous. “A prince does not back down.”
“Good.” Janus nodded as the water cut off. “Because Thomas’s future begins now.”
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So I was checking in on Wyrd's post GenCon stuff and the article include the winners of the major Malifaux tournament they had. It was not the winner so much as the second place person.
Their name was Roman. They ran a Performer Crew. They used the 'Star of the Show' variant of the crew's boss.
And I know this is a real actual person, but my brain cannot be persuaded from 'Roman Sanders plays Malifaux, I guess'.
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The thing about Danny is, he cannot separate love from pain. His parents love him, they love him so much they shoot at him with guns specially designed to kill him specifically. There's not a girl he loves that isn't mean to him, who doesn't want to kill some part of him for their own gain. His sister can't show him love without digging into his insecurities first. The city he fights to protect treats him like a criminal. Love is looking past the barrel of a gun and hoping the person on the other side will recognize you faster than they pull the trigger.
