So Question.

‘Scuse me while I try a different pain.

BANG

The sound was familiar. The numbness, and then the sudden shock of pain as he collapsed on the concrete. This form had felt this before, the old wound ripped open with the new one, the broken bones jolting out of place with the fall. The Darkness tried desperately to pull itself back together. Why this wound? Why had this one broken him? He was fading. No, no, no! This can’t be happening! This isn’t fair! This isn’t fair. This isn’t...this isn’t...

Suddenly, Damien gasped. His breath was weak and rattling...but it was his. He knew that this wasn’t his body, that he wasn’t truly his old self. He hadn’t been for a long time now, he’d been nothing but darkness for so long, he’d hardly remembered his own name anymore. But now, and he could’ve laughed if he’d had the breath, as he was lying in this puddle of blood, their blood...he remembered. Without the influence of that awful thing, he was himself, he was Damien, and...and...

Oh god.

Celine. His own sister, he’d left her there. And the DA...had he really left them in that godforsaken house? All alone for all of these years? And...

Oh no.

“Will...” he wheezed. A tear rolled down his cheek as it got harder still to breathe. He couldn’t see anymore. “’m sorry...Will, ‘m sorry...”

“Dark?”

No. No, anything but that name. Please, just let him be himself again. If nothing else in this cruel world, let him die as himself, with what little dignity he had left. He didn’t want to be that creature anymore. He groaned weakly.

Footsteps. A thud of someone collapsing down next to him.

“Dark, old man, what happened to you?”

He knew that voice...but it was wrong...it was wrong, but it was him. The tears came faster and he tried to move but grunted in pain.

“W...Will...”

“Speak up, Dark, I can’t hear you with your face on the ground like that.” He was so cheerful. Stupid, stupid man, Damien thought fondly. A hand turned him on his back and he cried out. Will sucked in a breath sharply.

“That’s a humdinger, alright. A hell of a joke.”

A joke. No, Will, no. Damien suddenly remembered what Will had become and sobbed painfully, coughing up blood. He used what little power lingered from...it...to stabilize himself slightly. Just long enough to do what he hadn’t gotten the chance to do the first time.

“Will...’s me...’s me...”

“I can see that, Dark-”

“No. No...not...that...’m...’m back, Will...’m back...”

There was a pause. Then a rattling breath. Then, in a very small voice...

“Damien?”

He laughed, coughing again, and Will tried to help him stop. His hands were shaking.

“’s been...a long time...”

“I...I-it has, h-hasn’t it...”

“’ve got..pink...ha...ha...”

“A tease as usual, I see.” A tear dripped onto his face. “I’ve missed that.”

His breathing was failing again, and the power was fading. “’m so...so sorry...”

“I-it’s...i-it’s alr-right...” A hand closed around his, and he was sad that he couldn’t return the pressure it put there. “It’s qu-quite alright.”

“Tell them...’m sorry...”

“Of course.” Will’s voice was a whisper.

“‘m sorry...” he mumbled again. The blackness of the Void was closing in again, and it was getting harder and harder to hear anything. Will’s hand felt a million miles away. “‘s good...to hear...y’r voice...old friend...”

A rattling breath. He couldn’t tell whose it was anymore.

“Goodbye, William.”

Then there was nothing.

A short story? about Wiford finding out that we killed Dark (in A date with Markiplier) saying that he trusted us and we are the only monster here. Because i like to make me suffer

@markired

I like to think that sometimes dark will get these twangs of guilt or regret and he can never work out why, but there’s a reason he’s never got rid of that cracked mirror in his office. Or maybe he is just as broken as Wilford except wilfords response to being torn apart was to just spiral into it while dark tried to fight back and regain agency over himself? Like that’s why he’s so determined to get revenge, he’s just as hurt by wkm as wilf, he’s just dealing with it differently

I think Dark retains all the memories of WKM, and all of Damien’s memories, but the person/people that he was are forever changed (but maybe not completely gone), and that the dark entity that powers him led him to a different kind of insanity, one that’s hyper-focused and obsessive rather than sporadic and hyperactive and stereotypically “mad”.

“May.”

She nearly had a heart attack, squeaking in the most undignified way possible as she spun around, soap suds covered frying pan flinging bubbles onto the black vest of the Asgardian Lord of Chaos.

Loki frowned and swiped the bubbles away. “I suppose I startled you. My apologies.”

“What are you doing here?!”

“I haven’t heard from the boy in a week and three days. This is...unusual. I merely wanted to be sure that the paultry team my brother seems to have stumbled into was not once again down a teammate.”

“Jesus, Loki,” May sighed, finally putting the pan back in the sink and wiping her hands, “you know you can just say you wanted to check up on Pete, right? Like, I’m not gonna judge you for that, by all means, come ask about him if you’re worried.”

“I am not-”

“Whatever dude.” She smirked slightly at the indignant twitch of Loki’s mouth. “Pete’s fine. Finals time in school, he hasn’t really had time to do anything but study and sleep, and you can guess which one he does more than the other.”

Loki nodded slowly. “Well. That is good to know. I shall be on my way then.”

As he lifted his hand, possibly to gesture grandly as he was fond of doing before he left, May took a step forward. “Actually, wait a second?”

He froze, studying her, and she suddenly found the floor very interesting.

“I just wanted...y’know, you two have been hanging out a lot recently...and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried at first, because of course I’m gonna be worried when my nephew’s hanging out with literally the god of mischief, but...” She managed to look up. “I just wanted to say...thanks. Pete, he doesn’t have a lot of people to look up to, but between you and Mr. Stark...Just...Thanks. For everything.”

He was silent for a long moment. Neither of them moved. Then, finally...

“There is no need to thank me. If anything, I...” He paused, and shook his head. “There is no need to thank me.”

And he was gone.

As she turned back to the sink, May thought that her life could never get stranger than when Pete brought new people into it. Especially when those people are weird, practically immortal gods who feel like they have to thank you for keeping them calm but can’t.

She wondered if she ought to invite him for dinner sometime. Did Loki like subs?

Scenes I need...

Peter Parker: -on meeting Loki, offers his hand- Hi, I’m Peter!

Loki: -shakes his hand- Loki of Asgard.

Peter: Aren’t you like…a bad guy?

Loki: It varies from moment to moment.

Peter: So like…on a scale of one to ten, ten being the worst evil imaginable, like…killing puppies, and one being I’ll spit on your hotdog…where are you right now?

Loki: …maybe a three?

Peter: Cool. Lemme know if it gets above a six.

Loki: -thinking- I like him.

I’m a fan of both, and I kinda see them as an evolution? Like Anti started out wild and glitchy, but he’s slowly learning to control his...form, I guess? better than he did before, so he can be silent and menacing. He’s done playing games and is getting down to business, whatever his main business is now.

Okay question for everyone,

Do you all like the silent, menacing, Anti more or the crazy, chaotic glitch?

For me personally, I like the silent version more. Why? It's way more terrifying. With the other one, you know exactly what he's thinking and what he's going to do next but with the left one, he's way more unpredictable, way more sinister. He could easily kill you without you even knowing.

Chase.

So! I had no idea this was happening until like 20 minutes ago!

Before I dive in: I absolutely love this video, and I’m so happy that Jack has decided to take his egos’ stories further like this. It’s beautifully shot, cleverly edited, wonderfully acted, and the premiere was just amazing. I’m so excited to see where this goes, even though I’d be perfectly happy to have this be all we get! Well done, Jack and team! I am astounded and impressed.

Now let’s talk lore:

Based on a first watch through, the story that I’m gathering so far is that Chase has been evicted from his home. This is the last straw for him, and to process, he goes to visit a place that is special to him. Now, this place is a cairn in the middle of the woods, a memorial to someone. While he’s there, grieving, suddenly he appears on a parking garage roof. He’s just as confused as we are...and afraid.

Let’s dig a bit deeper.

- The eviction notice

Served by the LA Sheriff’s department, this is an official notice to vacate the premisis, meaning that he’s been evicted from his home. It’s dated August 11th (or 14th, I’m not sure), and gives him until the end of the month to get out. Is he being evicted by his ex? Possibly, but also possible is that he’s been evicted for violating his tenant agreement, maybe with excessive drunken episodes or not taking care of the apartment well enough in his depressed state. I can’t make out the signature, but as it’s probably meant to be a judge’s, I’m not particularly bothered by that.

When Chase gets into his car, we see that it’s littered with fast food debris. It looks like he’s been living out of this thing. I don’t have much to say about that other than it’s a very good way of showing us his mental state before getting even more explicit about it. He’s not taking care of himself, or his car, because he can’t.

- In the car.

I want to talk about Chase’s costume change. 

Previously, he looked like this:

Childish and happy-go-lucky on the surface, covering his issues. This is him in his videos on Bro Average. It’s not a very serious look, because he’s not a very serious person.

Now he looks like this:

Much more toned down and adult, realistic. Serious. This is Chase off-camera, when he’s the real human being behind the screen, dealing with his life falling apart. I think it’s a fascinating character development, and I love it.

My favorite part of the video is this next bit.

Right before he breaks down, briefly, we see...

Someone else in the back seat. Someone in all black. Someone with Jack’s face.

Am I going to jump to the conclusion that this is Anti? Definitely. Is it possible that this is a manifestation of Chase’s concerns about that universe’s Jack who’s currently in a coma? Yep! Either interpretation is going to be interesting to play out.

- In the woods.

At the cairn, we see him put down this photo. Now, this could be two things: either, this is young Chase with his mother (probable, given the age of the photo) or this is Chase’s son with his ex, Stacey. Either way, this cairn marks the loss of the photo’s occupants. Now, I’m inclined to believe that this is Chase’s son’s memorial, because that would explain Chase’s depression and his ex’s leaving. This could also mean that Stacey is dead, but that wouldn’t make much sense lore-wise unless Jack is starting the story over completely. That would be interesting to watch, but would scrap all previous Chase appearances, so I doubt that’s what’s happening.

- The scene shift.

Before:

Alone and stripped of everything he had left, Chase is trying to decide what to do. He can’t go home, and he has nowhere else to go. This is a man who’s given up hope.

After:

Utter and complete shock. Confusion. Fear. He taps his chest and looks at his hands as if he’s questioning reality, wondering if he’s dreaming, but clearly he’s not.

I want to talk about the music cues for a second. The sentimental music of the forest scene fades away, and there’s tight, minor key strings through the entire finale, which is excellent for building hype and setting the scene. That, coupled with the sudden cut, brings the audience into Chase’s head without him having to say a word. We can clearly see and feel the confusion and panic, which quickly becomes fear, and even if we’re not sure what we’re afraid of, we know it’s something serious, and dangerous. We’re on the edge of our seats.

What happened here? We don’t really have enough info to go on, and I’m hoping there’s more to come, but my guess? Something followed him to the cairn. And something wanted something from him, and took him to the place where that can happen.

What brought him there? Whose memorial what that? Where are Chase’s friends? Where are his kids and ex? And most importantly...

What’s going on?

Today’s Teaser (Sept 7, 2020)

FRIENDS. THINGS ARE HAPPENING. I’M BACK ON MY THEORIST SHIT AGAIN.

So I watched the clip several times, at varying speeds, and tried to transcribe what I heard:

[loud screech, metal on metal]

[crash, again seems to be metal on metal]

[hiss, as of steam being released]

[car engine revving]

Unknown Voice: Everything is happy...

[sound of a train going over tracks, faint train whistle]

Unknown Voice: [unclear] living his life to come through...

So that second voice line is one I couldn’t quite make out. The top two interpretations I got were “He’s living his life to come through” and “He’s giving his life to come too.”

I also snapped a picture of whatever flashed on screen in the darkness:

So you can’t see much here, but when I brighten it...

A door? When the image keeps moving, there are lights at regular intervals along the roof. Coupled with the sound, my guess is this is a train compartment, possibly in the style of Murder on the Orient Express.

Are we getting a new adventure? Possibly another murder mystery?

Such interesting developments, and with Halloween right around the corner...

On Today’s Unus Annus Video!

So today Unus Annus tackled the idea of artificial intelligence, and I got really excited and wrote a text wall comment that’s undoubtably going to get buried there, so I thought I’d post it here for anyone who’s interested! Posting it under a cut because HOOO BOY it’s a long one.

tl;dr AI is super cool and scary and much closer to being a thing than we think it is. Signed, a nerd who did way too much research for her scifi book.

Hi! I actually did a TON of research into the mechanics and ethics of AI when I was writing my first novel in 2018.  Be prepped for a text wall dump of cool AI info!

So you're actually hitting on one of the biggest conundrums of artificial intelligence technology, which is, to quote the wiki, "If an AI system replicates all key aspects of human intelligence, will that system be sentient"? At that point, there is significant debate over who would own the rights to the system, or whether there would be a way to determine that at all. This point in history, where it becomes impossible to distinguish between an AI and a human being (AKA, the first machine to pass the Turing test) and in fact, the AI surpasses human intelligence, is referred to as the singularity (Originally coined by Scifi writer Vernor Vinge). The majority of the debate comes from what to do in the event of the singularity, which is taken by many to be a when not an if. Do we trust that the machines we make will trust us? Or do we stop them before they get that far because they might consider us a threat to their existence and wipe us out instead?

Lots of Scifi writers have tackled this idea in their works (including me!), but one of the most famous solutions is the one proposed by Isaac Asimov in his short story "Runaround", which was published in 1942 (this story later became part of I, Robot, which is where you've probably heard the rules before). Asimov instituted in his fictional robot-filled society three basic rules:

1. A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm. 2. A robot must obey the orders given it by human beings except where such orders would conflict with the First Law. 3. A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Laws.

Asimov's laws have been a huge part of the discussion around real scientific research into the capabilities of programming and machine learning because people see them as a way to safeguard advances that we make. But they also present the problem of not seeing robots as equal to humans, which could cause serious stress in sentient robots.

An interesting dive into this is Sophia, the world's "first robot citizen" from Hanson Robotics. Sophia isn't truly sentient, but she's the closest thing we have right now, being able to learn and react on her own without constant input from her research and development team. She can even make facial expressions that mimic real emotional responses! The trick with Sophia is that she recognizes that she isn't a human, and is, in fact, an experiment. She is designed to be okay with this and has even expressed excitement about it (which, like, amazing, a robot that can express excitement?!). If she were to ever say that she does not wish to do an interview that her team wants to do though, would she have the right to say no? What if she asked for her image to be taken down from a certain site? If she, herself, decided she no longer wanted to make public appearances? Would she have the right to do that, and would it be morally problematic to reprogram her to consent? Where does she cross the line from simulated sentience into real, self-contained sentience?

It's the same problem you talked about with owning your own image. If we as people don't know where we stand on that, what can we say about the machines we create and their ownership of themselves? No one has steady answers. It's all very interesting, and legitimately concerning, but also fascinating. I'm excited to see what happens next...if also a little worried.

Sources for above text wall: - Sophia's page on Hanson Robotics' website: https://www.hansonrobotics.com/sophia/ - The Wikipedia for artificial intelligence: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Artificial_intelligence - Asimov's "Runaround": http://www.isfdb.org/cgi-bin/title.cgi?44191 - Vernor Vinge's work on the singularity: https://ntrs.nasa.gov/search.jsp?R=19940022856

Old (A Tentoo Drabble)

Pairing: Tentoo/Rose mentions

Rating: G

Old. It's amazing how odd that word sounded to him now.

Before, when he'd thought of old, he'd thought of centuries, of planetary histories and the births and deaths of stars and galaxies. He'd thought of an ancient, nearly extinct race, who could live for many thousands of years, each with thirteen faces. He'd thought of how many faces he had left, and how many centuries, and how alone he would be.Old used to terrify him. Now, though, old was different.

Now, he thought of years, of houses and cars, and pictures from a Polaroid camera. He thought of another race, who lived for less than a century on average, each with only one face. He thought of the fact that now he only had one face, and much less than a century left...and someone to spend that time with. Old doesn't scare him as much anymore. The Doctor touched his face. He touched the chin that was covered in morning stubble after not being shaved in three days. He touched the corners of brown eyes he'd grown so used to seeing, suddenly, it seemed, covered in small wrinkles. He touched brown, spikey hair that was just beginning to grey.And he marveled at it.

Fifty years ago, this hadn't even been a possibility for him. Thirty-five years ago, it'd been an aching, impossible fantasy. Thirty years ago, it'd become a terrifying and strange new reality. Now, he looked at himself in fond awe once again.He was getting old. He, the Doctor, Last of the Time Lords, 900 year old alien, was finally getting old. And he was happy about it.

Someone knocked on the open bathroom door. He looked over to see a brown haired woman leaning against its frame, arms crossed over a blue pajama top. She smiled at him and raised an eyebrow.

"Morning. Why're you starin' at yourself?"

He smiled and raised an eyebrow right back.

"Morning. I'm just appreciating how handsome I am."

"No you're not," she laughed, "You were touching your wrinkly eyes. You're thinkin' about how old you're getting."

He scowled playfully. "I am not!"

"Are too!" she grinned, walking over and hugging him. He sighed, looking back at the mirror and putting an arm around her. "Are to," he conceded.

The woman looked up at him thoughtfully."It still amazes you, doesn't it?"

"Oh, yes. I think it always will."

They stood there for a minute, looking in the mirror, before she finally patted his shoulder and gestured at his striped pajamas."C'mon, get dressed. You promised we could show Martha and David a new planet today."

He sighed again, smiling into it. "I did, didn't I? Alright." He stepped back from her and walked to the wardrobe in the adjacent bedroom, pulling out a familiar blue set of garments. "Old suit good enough for it, Deej?"

"Always, Dad," she said fondly, and with a last chuckle left the room to find her kids and make sure they were ready.

Another woman appeared at the door and smiled. This one was blonde, with little wrinkles around her eyes, too (that he of course never mentioned).

"Hello."

"Hello."

Rose came in and gave him a little kiss.

The Doctor took his wife's hand, like he always had, and always would, and went off to find the rest of his greatest adventure, and show them a new planet. Just like he'd promised.

Just like it should be.

HEADCANON ACCEPTED

Ok so idk what made me think of this but imagine WKM Mark and Celine actually had a baby. Imagine the baby was orphaned after the events of WKM. Imagine he grew up with powers he never fully understood and no one to teach him how to use them. Imagine him having this innate desire for control. Imagine him, all grown up, becoming a best selling Author. Imagine him meeting Dark and Dark just freaking out.

Tea. (Headcanons)

(A/N These are some of my headcannons told sort of in the form of a plotless oneshot. Add to it if you want!)

There's one thing the Doctor adores no matter what regeneration he's on, and that's tea. Whether it's good ol' classic English tea (Ten drank it all the time), or green tea (Good old Twelve), or herbal teas(Eleven was wont to try all kinds of teas, a new one every day), or gunpowder tea (Nine had a bit of a bitter streak when it came to this), he always loved it, and he liked to share that with his companions.

Everyone liked the classic stuff, but each had their own favorites.

Rose, through her time on the TARDIS, came to really enjoy raspberry tea with honey and lemon juice, which the Doctor would make for her after every adventure. She brought her favorite brand to her mum's apartment, but Jackie said she "didn't trust these ruddy alien teas. What if they poison me or somethin'?"

Martha had a soft spot for orange tea, especially with lavender or jasmine, and her favorite brand was one from the 25th century on Earth that boasted helpful hypermetabolic antioxidants, though the Doctor protested it didn't help her health at all. She liked it anyway. They "debated" the point thousands of times during their long tea-and-chat sessions in the console room.

Donna was quite fond of coffee as well as tea, and took it black, occasionally with sugar if she was just relaxing and chatting with the Doctor. She made him try her coffee once, but he spit it out so violently she called him "Old Faithful" for a week straight. After that, the Doctor insisted on making and drinking only his own beverages, and Donna cracked a smile every time they met in the morning for drinks and biscuits.

Amy liked really strong teas of lots of varieties, including some alien types found across the galaxy from Earth in the 47th century, while Rory just liked his classic tea, one spoon of sugar and a little milk, please. Neither liked when the Doctor attempted to make their tea, so Amy often ended up getting annoyed at them both and sitting them down while she did it, correctly. The boys were smart enough not to argue.

Clara really rather enjoyed oolong and green tea, but would try basically anything the Doctor brewed for her, so they spent hours in the TARDIS kitchen laughing and taste-testing.

The Doctor also let everyone pick their own mug, because of course the TARDIS had an almost endless supply of them, and he gave each of them the mugs when they left him.

His were: in his ninth incarnation, a simple black mug with a swirling blue and gold design; in his tenth incarnation, a rather large blue mug with about a thousand quotes in brown ink scrawled all over it (from him, and his companions, and Shakespeare, and Agatha Christie, and a thousand others) in very small, cramped handwriting (he had about three because he kept running out of space); in his eleventh incarnation, it changed every time he drank tea, sometimes white with a red bow tie, other times pale pink with a black fez silhouette, other times something completely random; and in his twelfth incarnation, a star scattered black mug with the TARDIS' outline.

Rose's favorite was a pink mug with a half-heart shaped handle, which the Doctor bought her "as a joke", and sometimes teased her about, but she was happy with it. Tentoo had it in his pocket when they went to Pete's world, and gave it back to her as a birthday present the next time it came around. She was thrilled.

Martha's was a pretty green Japanese tea cup, with Kanji lettering on the side for "Health". It was wrapped up in the gift pile at her wedding to Mickey. There was no giver name. She cried when she opened it.

Mickey got one that said "The Most Brilliant Idiot To Every Live" in small, cramped handwriting. He cried, too.

Donna would never understand where the fairly plain brown mug that read "Life's an adventure if you get your arse out of bed long enough to have one" came from. All she knew was that it arrived at her door one day, and Shawn didn't know where it came from, and it was her favorite. It made her happy, but she never understood why.

Amy's favorite mug was intricately sculpted to a tree with a fairy sitting in its branches that Rory bough for her on a planet with actual, live fairies. Rory's was one Amy had given him, with a little cartoon of a Roman soldier, bought from the gift shop of a certain museum, that had the title "The Centurion".

They cried when a package containing the mugs arrived on their doorstep in the 60s.

Clara's favorite was bright red with gold glitter and the outline of a leaf on it. The Doctor swore he'd just picked it up somewhere, but Clara just smiled and nodded, happily running a finger over the hand-painted leaf.