Kiwikarshal

Umm I only suggested impaling your companion on an ancient torture machine as a joke? Grow up

Rohan has normal adult problems.

can't believe this is their first time meeting

Fucked up how humanity discovered electricity and radiation and made machines and learned to make airplanes and cured diseases and our takeaway isnt that "Some Magic Is Real And Here's Why", but that magic is fake this is big boy science and it's totally not magical

A small but crucial detail I really love about S3e12 and Reigen’s whole encounter with ??? is the fact that Reigen doesn’t break down until he lays eyes on Mob.

Reigen is calm and collected throughout the “earthquakes”, realizing that Mob’s causing the disaster, running after him, and braving his way through the tornado. He’s determined to reach Mob at all costs and never wavers or hesitates.

Reigen calls out to Mob when he sees his silhouette in the distance, but it’s not until Reigen struggles close enough to Mob to actually see the state he’s in that his composure crumbles.

And it crumbles. It’s the first time the audience has ever seen Reigen so openly upset. I am not exaggerating by saying that Reigen is genuinely desperate and distraught, and it happened the moment Reigen made visual contact with Mob.

And this isn’t even taking into account him breaking down into tears talking with Mob. This is just the start of the encounter.

I like this little detail so much because it accentuates the fact that Reigen truly didn’t have any idea what Mob was dealing with or holding inside. All of the evidence pointed to Mob being the cause of the disaster. Reigen knew on a logical level that this was Mob’s power at work (“But Mob’s in the center of that tornado, right?”). But I think Reigen still refused to believe it on a more emotional level. To Reigen, Mob can do no wrong. Reigen sees Mob with such a favorable tint, I’m sure in that moment everything seemed so unreal to Reigen that he couldn’t make himself believe Mob was capable of this.

But when he finally catches a visual of Mob in his ??? form, he sees Mob wrapped in a sinister red energy and absolutely monstrous, his shape blurry and poorly defined from his raw power distorting it into charcoal-like smudges, his face stuck in a pained grimace. ??? looks so out of place in the normal animation style that he seems otherworldly, like he belongs in a different dimension.

The only thing keeping Reigen in denial was not directly seeing Mob rampaging around the city. So when Reigen saw ???, the realizations and the gravity of the situation just hit him all at once and he flew into a desperate panic.

It just seems so like Reigen to downplay Mob’s ability to hurt, both himself and others.

I hope this makes sense lol i’m so tired

bringing my two loves,,,, together

🍀🌱 After playing nahida’s story quest… I feel like she has a sharp tongue and pretty blunt, but always try to hold it back lol

for a while i lived in an old house; the kind u.s americans don't often get to live in - living in a really old house here is super expensive. i found out right before i moved out that the house was actually so old that it features in a poem by emily dickinson.

i liked that there were footprints in front of the sink, worn into the hardwood. there were handprints on some of the handrails. we'd find secret marks from other tenants, little hints someone else had lived and died there. and yeah, there was a lot wrong with the house. there are a lot of DIY skills you learn when you are a grad student that cannot afford to pay someone else to do-it-for-ya. i shared the house with 8 others. the house always had this noise to it. sometimes that noise was really fucking awful.

in the mornings though, the sun would slant in thick amber skiens through the windows, and i'd be the first one up. i'd shuffle around, get showered in this tub that was trying to exit through the floor, get my clothes on. i would usually creep around in the kitchen until it was time to start waking everyone else up - some of them required multiple rounds of polite hey man we gotta go knocks. and it felt... outside of time. a loud kind of quiet.

the ghosts of the house always felt like they were humming in a melody just out of reach. i know people say that the witching hour happens in the dark, but i always felt like it occurred somewhere around 6:45 in the morning. like - for literal centuries, somebody stood here and did the dishes. for literal centuries, somebody else has been looking out the window to this tree in our garden. for literal centuries, people have been stubbing their toes and cracking their backs and complaining about the weather. something about that was so... strangely lovely.

i have to be honest. i'm not a history aficionado. i know, i know; it's tragic of me. i usually respond to "this thing is super old" by being like, wow! cool! and moving on. but this house was the first time i felt like the past was standing there. like it was breathing. like someone else was drying their hands with me. playing chess on the sofa. adding honey to their tea.

i grew up in an old town. like, literally, a few miles off of walden pond (as in of the walden). (also, relatedly, don't swim in walden, it's so unbelievably dirty). but my family didn't have "old house" kind of money. we had a barely-standing house from the 70's. history existed kind of... parallel to me. you had to go somewhere to be in history. your school would pack you up on a bus and take you to some "ye olden times" place and you'd see how they used to make glass or whatever, and then you'd go home to your LEDs. most museums were small and closed before 5. you knew history was, like, somewhere, but the only thing that was open was the mcdonalds and the mall.

i remember one of my seventh grade history teachers telling us - some day you'll see how long we've been human for and that thing has been puzzling me. i know the scientific number, technically.

the house had these little scars of use. my floors didn't actually touch the walls; i had to fill them with a stopgap to stop the wind. other people had shoved rags and pieces of newspaper. i know i've lost rings and earring backs down some of the floorboards. i think the raccoons that lived in our basement probably have collected a small fortune over the years. i complain out loud to myself about how awful the stairs are (uneven, steep, evil, turning, hard to get down while holding anything) and know - someone else has said this exact same thing.

when i was packing up to leave and doing a final deep cleaning, i found a note carved in the furthest corner in the narrow cave of my closet. a child's scrawled name, a faded paint handprint, the scrangly numbers: 1857.

we've been human for a long time. way back before we can remember.