This is a simple analytical case study of Charles Manson in which I will focus primarily on the astrological explanation behind certain quotes of his. You may need basic knowledge of Manson’s life and crimes in order to understand what he’s saying. (It’s a pretty long post so I put it under the cut.)
This is a long post, saddle up for some cool stuff.
@dirkar and I have terrible ideas. By which I mean we have fucking incredible ideas. This is one of my favorite brainstorms I’ve ever been part of. Sadly, the both of us are too busy to turn this from roadmap into full fic, but also think it’d be a goddamn shame not to share what we have. Even though this is not a full traditional “fic”, I fucking love it.
Because what we have is a radical Persona AU, starring our babes, the Alphas.
This AU mixes elements of both P3 and P4.
The Midnight Channel exists.
But so do Evokers, the summoning tool from P3. Each Alpha has a personalized weapon they use as their Evoker:
Jane wields a very sharp fork with long tings. To summon her persona, she jams the tings into her arm.
Dirk has a sword, natch. To summon his persona, he inserts the blade into his chest, then whips it outward, Utena-style.
Roxy has bladed knuckles. To summon her persona, she flips them in her grip and slams the knuckles into her ribs like a deadly defibrillator.
Jake, of course, has a standard P3 Evoker in the shape of a gun. To summon his persona, he fires it at his temple.
Our setting for this story is quiet suburbia, where weird folktales like the Midnight Channel are pervasive. See, the story goes if you look into your TV at midnight on a rainy night, you will see your true love. The truth of what’s on the Midnight Channel is a little more sinister. It broadcasts a person, who then vanishes into the world of the TV, where they are trapped. They are held prisoner by their Shadow, the manifestation of their most shameful desires and fears.
CW: ….nothing I can really think of? Some mentions of alcohol and sex.
Next chapter Cassian and Jyn actually talk, I promise. This was just necessary to kinda…set Cassian’s position up a little more clearly. I headcanon him hardcore as really, really demiromo/demisexual, so….yeah.
Wedge doesn’t say anything for a long time,
after Cassian finishes explaining. Then again, Wedge knows when to press and
when not to; he’s not like Kei (arguably, Cassian’s only other friend in the
world, and Cassian’s not even sure Wedge fits that description, per se)
who pokes his nose into everything and says whatever comes into his head in an
attempt to stumble upon something helpful. Wedge thinks things through before
he says them, and it helps.
“Why do you even care?” Wedge says,
finally. Cassian grimaces into his mug. It helps ninety-eight percent of
the time. He should have remembered that part.
“I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”
“Don’t turtle,” Wedge says
absently. The coffee shop is empty, mostly. At the other end of the counter,
Shara’s humming along to the radio, and pretending she isn’t eavesdropping.
Cassian stares hard at the counter rather than respond. “I told you when
this happened, this woman, whoever she is? She has issues, Cassian. And it’s
not good for you to still be–”
“Still be what?” says Cassian, and
Wedge stops. He rubs at his lower lip with his thumb.
it’s been three weeks, two days, & 23 hours since alex’s girlfriend broke up with her. & now here she is at her gig, with a new guy. how could she have moved on so fast? this begins the night of alex, piper & manhattan. the night of stripping nuns, hotel ice rooms, russian food, psychotic ex-boyfriends & lovingly trashy ex-girlfriends. it’s the night of julio & salvatore. the night of holding hands & writing songs & singing in the rain. it’s a night they’ll never forget.