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incorrect-skylanders-quotes · 5 months

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Master Eon: Before we start letting everyone in, one last check on everything. Decorations?

Hugo: Secure, reinforced, and impossible to tangle.

Master Eon: Good, the last thing we need is another High Five incident. Refreshments?

Hugo: Most of it's here already, Finn's still on his way with his contributions.

Master Eon: As long as he arrives, he makes some excellent enchiladas. Music?

Hugo: Picked it all out personally! Here, take a listen!

youtube

Master Eon:

Hugo:

Hugo: I... probably should've listened to the whole thing...I, uh...I need to make a quick adjustment.

(Hugo begins to frantically change the songs on his playlist)

Master Eon: [sigh] Well, hopefully the party turns out better than last year.

——

Cynder: Wow, Everyone's outdone themselves this year, the Academy looks amazing!

Spyro: Yeah, but it's not just festive decorations and music that makes a holiday great.

Cynder: And what would make it great?

Spyro: Spending it with the greatest dragon you know?

Cynder: [laugh] I guess that would.

Spyro: (pulls Cynder close with his wing) Shall we find somewhere less crowded?

Cynder: I suppose we shall.

(Stealth Elf watches the two head off, following after them)

----

Sonic Boom: Whirlwind! I see you're trying a new look.

Polar Whirlwind: Yeah, I keep forgetting this happens every winter. Not sure why. It does have its uses though.

Sonic Boom: Really? Like what?

Lightning Rod: Whirlwind! Did you carve "Lightning Rod is a big stupid poopoohead" into my custom-made Christmas statue again?! Where are you?!

Polar Whirlwind: (digging into the snow) If he asks, I was never here.

----

Golden Queen: Ugh, Chompy Mage, what are you wearing?!

Jingle Bell Chompy Mage: I am wearing a Santa outfit like I was told to! Yohoho, I look festive!

Chompy Puppet: You sure do, Chompy Mage!

Jingle Bell Chompy Mage: Aww, thank you Chompy Puppet!

Golden Queen: You look like you kidnap children, change into your regular garb at once!

Golden Queen: ...And they called us evil, whoever made him dress like that is the true criminal!

----

(Stealth Elf is peeking through a window)

Eruptor: Hey Elfy, what're you-

(Stealth Elf covers Eruptor's mouth and drags him down)

Stealth Elf: Shhh, They'll hear!

Eruptor: Who?

Stealth Elf: (pointing at Spyro and Cynder) Them!

Stealth Elf: I hung a sprig of mistletoe in the Library, and I'm waiting for both of them to notice and kiss!

Eruptor: Are they even dating?

Stealth Elf: Yes! No, it's... [sigh] that's exactly why I'm doing this! No one here knows what in Skylands is up with those two, and they refuse to clarify! Are they dating? Platonic? Platonic with benefits? None of us can figure it out!

Stealth Elf: Well, not today! I'm getting to the bottom of this once and for all!

Eruptor: ...okay. I guess I'll leave you to it. (backs away cautiously)

----

Wolfgang: Hugo, mate, we gotta ask ya something.

Hugo: About what?

Echo: It's the music. I get it technically counts as something Christmas-y, but "Broccoli Guy and Chill Bill's Cool-iflower Festivity Mixtape" is still really weird for a party playlist.

Radio: 🎶Tis the season to be Troll-y, falalalala lalalala-🎶

Hugo: I was short on time! I had no better choices!

Wolfgang: Really? Aren't there thousands of Christmas songs out there?

Echo: And we have the Skaletones on speed-dial, couldn't get them?

Hugo: (storming off) Well, if you're not satisfied with my choices, then why don't you pick the songs out!

(Hugo storms off, leaving Echo and Wolfgang with the stereo system)

Wolfgang: ...I have a really horrible idea. (whispers it into Echo's ear)

Echo: That's awful. Let's do it!

----

Mags: Glumshanks! Glad you could make it!

Glumshanks: Thanks for the invitation. I'm actually kind of looking forward to this.

Mags: You better! This party's been a par-tic-ularly fantabulous jig!

Boomer: Mags, have you seen the fireworks? Buzz and Cali won't let us set them off and someone hid my secret stash!

Boomer: Oh hey, aren't you Kaos' lapdog?

Glumshanks: Not for tonight, at least until 8:30. Though, I'm not exactly sure what to do here.

Boomer: Well, worry not my fellow troll! C'mon, let's find some fireworks and set them off!

Glumshanks: I- that sounds kind of fun, I guess. Sure, why not!

----

Holiday Wash Buckler: (staring at his watch) Where the barnacles is Chompy Mage? He's late for our matching Santa outfit photoshoot!

Merry Snap Shot: Beats me, guess he forgot.

Jolly Bumble Blast: I hope not! The bees aren't too happy about looking like flying peppermints, let's just start without him!

Chompy Mage: I am here! Sorry for being late!

Merry Snap Shot: Mate, where's your Santa dress? Didya forget about the theme?

Chompy Mage: Golden Queen told me to not wear it, she also said something about kidnapping infants and how you all should be imprisoned!

Merry Snap Shot: You gotta be joking, after all this time, she's back to evil?! And on Christmas too?!

Jolly Bumble Blast: So...that's a no on the Santa photos?

Merry Snap Shot: (pulling out his Traptanium Bow) 'Fraid not, Skylander duties come first. Now, let's have a little chat with Goldie...

----

Missile-Tow Dive-Clops: Lob-Star, nice colors!

Winterfest Lob-Star: As to you, Dive-Clops. It appears that we match.

Missile-Tow Dive-Clops: Hey, we kinda do! Y'know, it's funny, me and Eye-Brawl were gonna do something like this, but when the headless giant heard he'd have to wear red and white, he ran off! We're still looking for him...

(meanwhile)

Eye-Brawl: For the love of the Ancients, it is just one day! I didn't complain when I wore that pumpkin for Halloween!

Headless Giant: (refuses in headless silence)

Eye-Brawl: You are so impossible!

----

Smolderdash: (walking past some snowmen) Roller Brawl? Where are you? You told me to meet you here.

Snowler Brawl: (jumping out of a snowman) Boo!

Smolderdash: (falling backward) Gah!

Snowler Brawl: [laughing] Gotcha! I saw the snowmen and I couldn't resist!

Snow-Brite Stormblade: (popping out of the Christmas tree) Ooh, you were hiding in random Christmas stuff too?

Dec-Ember: (climbing down from the hanging lights) I thought I was the only one doing so.

Smolderdash: W-wha...why were you all...[sigh] nevermind.

----

Tree Rex: Looks like the next song's coming up. Wonder what'll it be?

(Some very familiar music plays)

Terrafin: By the Ancients, not these! I thought we got rid of all the copies!

Flynn: Hey, Christmas 4 Bad Guyz 2 is a bop! Especially since I was a part of it!

(Echo and Wolfgang start laughing as Terrafin and Flynn start arguing)

----

(Spyro and Cynder are cuddling together in the Library, laying on a sofa with blankets)

Spyro: So, when should we rejoin the festivities?

Cynder: Mmm, I think we could wait a couple more minutes.

Stealth Elf: (thinking to herself) Come on, come on, come on, kiss, or don't! Just look at the dang mistletoe!

Cynder: Spyro? I never get to say this to you a lot, but... I-

(Cynder is interrupted by a loud explosion of fireworks)

Spyro: ...Huh. Guess Boomer found the fireworks after all. What were you going to say, Cynder?

Cynder: Oh, well, I was going to say... I'm-

(Cynder is interrupted again by the sounds of fighting)

Stealth Elf: You gotta be kidding...

Golden Queen: (bursting through the Library doors) For the last time, I said HE looked like he kidnapped children! If you saw him wearing that horrid costume you would agree!

Snap Shot: Save it for the Cloudcracker guards, Queenie!

(Snap Shot and Golden Queen continue fighting, knocking each other through a window in the process)

Spyro: That was odd.

Cynder: Yeah. Anyways, l-

Spyro: (noticing the mistletoe) Hey, what's that?

Cynder: It looks like...

Stealth Elf: Yes, yes, yes!

Cynder: ...Holly.

Stealth Elf: What.

Spyro: (plucking the holly from the ceiling) Hey, it is. Guess someone mistook it for mistletoe.

Stealth Elf: ARE YOU SERIOUS?! I SPENT HALF THE NIGHT DOING THIS FOR NOTHING?!! GAH!

(Stealth Elf storms off)

Cynder: Sheesh, guess Stealth Elf isn't having a good Christmas.

Spyro: Wonder what she was doing by the window...

Cynder: Eh, probably not important. But, as I was saying...

Cynder: I'm lucky to have met you. All those years ago, after the fighting, you were the first to believe in me, that there was more than darkness in my heart. You led me down a better path, and I'll always be thankful for that.

Spyro: I'm glad I met you too, you're one of the best Skylanders around! Fighting Kaos, defeating Malefor, I'm not sure how we'd ever have done it without you. Plus, I got to know the best dragon around.

(Spyro and Cynder kiss)

Spyro: Merry Christmas, Cynder.

Cynder: Merry Christmas, Spyro.

Spyro and Cynder:

Spyro: So...are we dating?

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fcralhope · 2 years

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Well since I’m talking about them here’s the basics on both of Johanna’s best beloveds. 🖤

Aside from her baby girl Peaches she’s got two dogs that she regularly takes to work with her. Geneviere (Gene) is her female long haired Shepard. Peaches may be Johanna’s baby girl but Gene is her GOOD girl. She is as majestic as she looks and as sweet as pie to literally everyone until you try and brush her :c or you mess with Johanna or make pups (animal or human) frightened or nervous. Then you’ll see this fluffy lapdog turn into a nightmare with teeth big and ferocious enough to rival any wolf in the county. Mark that down as facts btw. Gene has scared a wolf out of Johanna’s path more than once over the years when she’s been doing patrols out the more isolated trails around the county. During canon events she’s just turned 3 years old.

Her second is her big boi Apollo. He is a mutt crossbreed between a Long-Haired Shepard (Geneviere’s mama actually) and a Chow Chow owned by a family friend. He is probably the most intimidating ball of blonde fluff you’ll ever meet. Gorgeous and a very good boy but he does follow after his chow heritage in being pretty standoffish with anyone who isn’t Johanna. If it’s not playtime or Johanna isn’t petting him he is THE MOST serious boy and is the one who generally answers the door at home first, not Johanna, and if he doesn’t know you or the lady of the house isn’t around to assure him you’re alright you aren’t getting in. At least not without being savagely mauled.

And where Geneviere is gentle enough to be trusted with newborns, Apollo has snapped at little kids when they didn’t listen to Johanna’s warnings and didn’t respect his boundaries and the one warning he gives everyone before he gets mean. The warning being it’s basically A LOOK, the snare still, deadass STOP FUCKING DOING WHAT YOU’RE DOING OR I WILL MAKE YOU STOP LOOK. 😐

Yes Johanna has shamed him for it because snapping at little kids is a bad look but the two times it’s happened it’s cause kids weren’t being respectful of his boundaries and now she just knows it’s how he is and generally doesn’t have him around brats, at least not off lead and close so she can warn kids herself and check him if need be.

That being said even if he’s a GRUMP he’s another one of her babies, her precious baby boy. And like Geneviere she’s had him since he was a puppy. In all honesty it’s probably thanks to that he turned out as well as he did. Whereas Geneviere practically trained herself Apollo took A LOT of work 😐, and that is putting it mildly. He is an extremely stubborn, proud, dominant, and intelligent dog and has been since he was a puppy. Re-training him when he hit the dog equivalent of his teens/puberty tested even Johanna’s skills and patience. He IS well-trained thanks to her and can be handled by anyone but make no mistake if you aren’t an experienced dog owner and used to working with dogs that check YOU for softness…. Maybe think twice if she ever asks you to dogsit for her. He’ll be a good boy but it’s rare that he’ll give anyone but Johanna 110% and if he does, you won’t have just impressed him but probably Johanna to. At the start of canon events he’s just turned 4 and is full grown.

She adores them both. Enough so she normally takes them both to work with her not just for their good company but for protection, and their working skills. Neither of them may be champions like Boomer but both are far more than standard pets. She’s used both to track, in search and rescue operations, and to help her hunt. They’re a huge part of her life and just as much family to her as her brother and parents.

I do not have pictures!! But I do have literal videos that I based them both off of!! Geneviere & Apollo. They both look exactly like this save for Apollo being BIGGER. Pretty sure if he were to stand on his hind legs he maybe wouldn’t reach his face but he could reach Jacob’s chest, possibly his throat.

Bonus: Both grew up playing with Peaches when she was a cub and are very used to her and being out in the wilderness. Also, the Shepard lines in Geneviere and obviously the one in Apollo came from the dogs of family friends in the valley. They’re farm dogs and as such were bred through working lines not show standard lines of the breed and do not have the slanted spine and back legs that are sadly prevalent in Shepards and tend to be a core source of mobility and arthritis problems for them later in life.

#hc

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stayarmytinyzenmoa-l · 3 years

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80. what DO YOU MEAN REVEAL YOUR IDENTITIES?!

81. MARK.

82. Mark. You have three seconds to bring her back— and since when do you listen to JENOS orders?!

83. He left 🧍🏾‍♀️

84. Jisung 💀💀

85. DONT BE MEAN TO HIM, WHAT DID HE DO

86. "Explain ourselves to the lapdogs" babe take care of that foot first before you keep talking 😩

87. Ooohhhhhhh so the.... ohhhh so the vial w/ the liquid slows down her quota?

88. Baekhyun isn't gonna like her reaching her quota, man is gonna DRAG her back

89. "Do not seek more than you already know about yourself" um. What am I supposed to say

80. This family reunion will be interesting

81. “MARK” - Yuta

82. Choosing between YN and Jeno is like picking mom or dad LMFAOOOOO Mark chose wrong 🦹🏽‍♀️ #prayformark

83. Yuh... just left her hanging like that

84. JISUNG 😩🥺😭😩🥺😭🥰🥰🥰

85. Jisung’s like the kid in a friend group who’s slowly watching his friend group falling apart so he takes the initiative to bring them together again and— I’ve said too much

86. RIGHT PRIORITIES YN

87. Extends the due date, so to say

88. If he tries you’d better hope he doesn’t succeed /spoilers

89. “Okay cool still gonna do it tho” or maybe even “shut up boomer”

#asks #vicky 🌙#l&r #l&r spoilers #spoilers #VIS

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girls-of-everquest · 3 years

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Eat the whole sausage

So it’s been a while since I’ve posted an update. It’s not for lack of us slaying pixel monsters and more to do with my life becoming a persisting sleepwalking session.

We’ve killed lots of new monsters, certainly not the least of them is this exiled king of jerks. This mother fucker right here:

His main mechanics include starting every sentence with “royal” and ending every sentence with “boop-shi boop-shi boo!”. This results in your party wanting to run away in a random direction to avoid total spontaneous human combustion. We killed this guy to death and are now the proud new owners of a recipe for royal gravy. Live action shot:

After we collected our sanity (and our fringed detached appendages), we ran off to a tik tok house for a supposed party in a dingy moldy basement that smells like insecurity and minimal adult supervision. Unfortunately, along the way we ran into an aggressive flower which made advances on our entire party wielding a flesh-light bludgeon. We beat this weed down with excessive amounts of pesticide, steel, and magic missiles *zap* *zzzap*. The loot went into the trash and we aren’t going to talk about it.

We finally arrived at the house party but all we found in the dingy basement was Nicolas Cage and a swarm of BEES!! We put Nicolas Cage, and our memory of this, out of its misery.. with bleach.. lots of bleach.

This is what Nicolas Cage looks like without stage makeup:

After leaving the “party” we fought a series of bullies. First, this group of Gen X’ers who were singling me out because of my sidepart and skinny jeans.

After some brutal insults and owns - including flaunting our ability to get a credit card, our smooth grammar, and the fact that we aren’t the ones appropriating boomer culture - they ran away from the encounter and left behind a useless box full of tik tok videos and mom jeans.

After beating down some teens we got a real taste for blood and went out to find some old people. Naturally this brought us to Target where we found this gem yelling at staff and other shoppers in the women’s lingerie section:

We sent him reeling back to his townhouse, yappy lapdog, and [oversized nondescript luxury SUV] and took the contents of his pockets. A bag of [crack] rocks and a pant sized used handkerchief.

Fin

#everquest #shardsofdalaya

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asthora · 6 years

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The Last Dance, Pt. 2

The Courier brings Benny back to Vegas. He can’t tell if it’s a mistake or if she’s just playing more games. Part 2 to my Benny x Courier saga. Read part one here.

The Courier is playing tricks on him.

She’s got a heart blacker than an abandoned vault. She never planned on letting him walk free, just thought it would be fun and games to see him skip off into the sunset only to reel him back in, her executioner’s axe sharpened.

“This isn’t what you think,” she tells him. “Believe it or not.”

Yeah, like he’s going to let her fool him again.

“You can’t pull the wool over my eyes anymore, baby. You’re here to kill me.”

Benny had been gone for almost two weeks, hadn’t even gotten the chance to leave the Mojave, when the Courier’s little NCR sniper appeared out of goddamn nowhere. Benny was just enjoying himself a smoke at the 188 when the beret grabbed his arm, turned him in the direction of New Vegas, and with a gruff let’s go, led him to his final resting place.

“Did I not scram fast enough, pussycat? Was I too slow? A man’s got to take his time when he’s deciding the fate of his future.”

“No, I’m glad you didn’t leave the Mojave. Made you easy to find.”

Oh, of course. Her hounds only run so far from the horses. If he had skedaddled sooner, right now he could be enjoying himself a hooker in New Reno or nursing himself a whiskey neat in some slummy bar.

“Well I’m glad I could convenience you, baby.”

“Yeah, yeah. You aim to please. I’ve heard it all before, Benny. Now it’s time for you to shut up and let me do the talking.”

Benny zips his lips and throws away the key. She rolls her eyes. The Courier leans back, her chair balancing on two legs, with her feet propped up on a card table. Her scarred hands rest on her toned stomach. Outside the tent, Benny can hear the sounds of the Mormon Fort -- babies crying, some grunts, coughing, the final scream of a dying junkie. He winces. Now he remembers why he made it a rule to never set foot in this place. Benny doesn’t like to be reminded of mortality.

“I’m not going to kill you,” she says. “I promise.”

“Really?”

“Really. Cross my heart and hope to fucking die.”

He smirks. “Well, now I’m convinced.”

News flash, he isn’t. He’s got a right to be cautious of this broad but there’s something about this whole situation that makes him wonder if she’s telling the truth.

“If I decided that killing you was what I wanted to do, do you think you’d be alive right now? Do you think I would waste any more of my time looking at your face?”

“Ouch, baby, you know my face is the finest thing for miles.”

So she isn’t planning to kill him, there’s a reason the Courier dragged him back kicking and screaming to New Vegas. But why aren’t they partying it up in the Lucky 38’s revolting cocktail lounge? He’s standing in front of the Mojave’s most powerful woman, yet she isn’t ruling from her castle. Why would a queen stalk in the slums?

C’mon, think like a big-leaguer Benny-boy.

Perhaps it’s because the Mormon Fort is discreet. Maybe, what she has to say doesn’t need the eyes and ears of certain people. In this neck of the woods, those certain people can only be the Vegas elite. The Families. Freeside ain’t Vegas proper so the Families don’t tend to pay attention to the slums, a mistake he didn’t make. Instead their feelers extend from New Vegas, skip over Freeside, and tumble out in the desert, gently probing the uncivilized world for anything that might benefit their empires. If she wants to be invisible this is the perfect place to do it. Not only is it free of Family spies, she’s got some aces protection. The Courier just doesn’t stop making friends. On his way in he spotted a few leather clad Kings milling about the perimeter and he swears he saw a Boomer vault suit sitting pretty as you please at the front gate.

But there are bigger questions to be asking here, like why is the Courier so desperate to get away from the Families? What does she want to keep hidden? And most importantly, if she doesn’t plan to kill him, why is he here?

Or maybe he’s got it all wrong. Maybe he’s thinking about this too closely. Nah, no way. He and the courier are the same in many ways. She wouldn’t say it but he ain’t afraid to admit that they are a couple of crafty scheming fucks.

“You’re hard to get rid of, Benny. Did you know that?” She asks, picking at her bleeding cuticles. She’s got hands like a desert scaver.

“A man once told me that before I stuck a knife in his neck.”

The Courier laughs, a flat dry laugh that makes his stomach lurch. She looks at him and cracks a smile.

“Swank told me about that. Your old chief, Bingo. He wanted to keep wandering but you said no sir. You told him the future was behind a gate, not out there,” she points to the desert. “So you killed him and brought your people to a new eden.”

“We could sit here recalling history, baby but that won’t lead us to anywhere that we don’t already know.” He says, his voice tight.

“I disagree,” the Courier slams her chair into the dirt and leans forward. “Get on your knees.”

Benny’s jaw tightens. Oh how he’d love to watch her bleed like he did with Bingo. But his hands are tied, literally, and he’s at the mercy of this woman perhaps for the rest of his short life. Benny gets on his knees.

“Happy?”

“I just want to remind you that we aren’t equals. ��I’m about to propose something to you that might send your ego flying to the stars, so I gotta make sure all my bases are checked.”

A proposal? What kind of proposal? What can this bitch offer him that she hasn’t already? His freedom was the only thing he could ask for, his life. The only thing left to dangle in front of him is...no. No fucking way. Vegas is all that’s left, the only thing he wants more than life but, the Courier is far from a fool. She wouldn’t hand over her newly won town for all the caps in the wasteland, so what is this?

“What I’m about to say stays in this tent. It doesn’t leave your mouth. I don’t want you even thinking about it. Do you understand?”

“I’m understanding that you have something real secret that you shouldn’t be saying. I’ll keep it under wraps, pussycat. Now spill the beans.” He says.

The Courier’s blue eyes close, then open, then close, and finally open again. She looks pained, like whatever she’s about to say, she doesn’t want to say it.

“We’re going to make a deal. I’m going to let you come back to Vegas and take up the mantle of head of the Chairman. In return, you’re going to be my little lapdog.”

Is he hearing her right? Did she really just offer him a doorway back into Vegas? He’s so caught up in the thought of walking the halls of The Tops again that he almost misses the word lapdog. Almost.

He narrows his eyes. “What do you mean by lapdog, baby? You realize this puppy ain’t into being leashed, right?”

“Well if you want to be more than one of the common folk you’re going to have to embrace the leash and be a good boy.”

Benny spits in the dirt. This ain’t right. This ain’t humane. That doesn’t mean he ain’t interested.

“Tell me why I should do this.”

She rubs her hands together and smiles. “Because you aren’t going to settle for the wasteland and I need a inside man who can tell me everything that the Families do. I’m not going to make the same mistake House did, I’m going to watch the power players and make sure they stay in their lanes. I’m not letting what you did happen again.”

Oh this broad is clever! She deserves this town better than anyone. She knows what to do, how to treat her fickle town, how to make sure it stays in her hands. Her judgement is impeccable. Who better than him to spy on the Omertas and the White Gloves? Once upon a time this was his town, and he knew how it rolled. Benny knew every shred of gossip, every rumor, every word that came out of the mouth of the big players. He knew when every little lord and lady fucked, slept, ate, shit, and schemed. That kind of knowledge could quell a revolution, a fight the Courier doesn’t want happening again. Funny to think that he once thought she wasn’t a threat.

But there are problems with this plan. No doubt his boys know that he betrayed him. They won’t welcome him home, no siree, and the rest of the Strip? Well, he’s no better than a White Glove frozen dinner.

“I like your ambition but you’re missing something important.” He says.

“Like what?”

“Swank isn’t going to let me come waltzing through those doors. He’ll splatter my brains across the carpet as soon as he sees me.”

“Why? He doesn’t know anything.”

What?

The Courier’s lips turn up in an amused smile. “All Swank and the rest of Vegas knows is that some fuck shot me in the head and I took over Vegas. I didn’t tell them that it was their boss who set my rampage in motion.”

He can’t believe this. It’s like the bitch had this all planned out from the start. Maybe she did, he tells himself. She’s smart enough.

“Swank told me you often disappear for days at a time, weeks even. All you have to do is walk back in, say you had business somewhere in the Mojave, and then it’s back to business as usual.”

She makes it sound so easy and really, it is. Benny is good at lying and Swank is good at believing him. What Swank accepts, the rest of his pack with accept, and so will Vegas. There’s a sick feeling in his gut though. All the lies, they’re piling up. It isn’t right to lie to your second, but Benny has been doing it for years. He’s neck deep. This’ll be the last lie, he thinks, then things will return to normal.

The Courier is right, he doesn’t want to be a wastelander again. He’s had a taste of civility and now he doesn’t think he can truly step away. He just ain’t too keen on being a slave.

“So I get my little slice of heaven back and in return, I give you information. Correct?” He asks.

The Courier swings her legs off the table and leans forward. She’s so close to him. It reminds him of two weeks ago when he was at the mercy of her blade.

“Well, that and a few other things. You’ll do exactly as I say. If I say jump, you say how high. If I ask you to swim in a sea of radiation, you better be running for your swim trunks-”

“So I’m your little bitch” he interrupts. “I get it.”

She cocks her head to the side, her jaw working furiously. “No, you don’t. Don’t interrupt. You’ll spy for me and you’ll pretend like you’re just one of the boys, like you and me have never had any ties. If I ask you to accompany me somewhere, you’ll do it. The Tops is your kingdom, you can run it how you like, but you won’t tell me how to run Vegas, and you won’t try to run it for yourself.”

She drives a hard bargain. Benny licks his lips and shifts on his knees, which are now aching so badly his legs have started to shake. The way he sees it, he doesn’t have a choice. She’ll just kick him to the curb if he says no. There is no better way back into Vegas, there is no other option. He’ll play his part. For a bit.

“Fine,” he spits. “You win. I’ll come back. I’ll play your game by the rules if it gets me back into my casino.”

The Courier leans back and smiles brightly. “Perfect!”

“Who would’ve thought I’d become business partners with the broad who I put in the ground?”

“And who would have thought that broad would be pulling the strings?” She smirks. “Now get up.”

He stands slowly. The Courier takes a knife from her boot and cuts the ropes around his wrists. He’s still got scars from the Legion’s bindings. He looks up from his hands at the courier. She’s a good head shorter than his six feet. This is the first time they’ve been side by side not as enemies, but as allies. She stares up at him with cold, blue eyes.

“Arcade!” She shouts.

“Yeah?”

Benny turns. A Follower doctor with blonde hair and thick rimmed glasses peeks around the tent flap.

“Do you have any clothes Benny can borrow? I don’t need him walking back into The Tops looking like he’s been dragged through the dirt.”

Arcade laughs humorlessly. “I’m sure I have something. Want me to make him bathe, too? I can smell him from here.”

“That would be great. Thanks, Arcade.”

“I aim to please. Follow me, asshole.”

“You’ve got lovely friends.” Benny growls, backing away from the Courier. She crosses her arms and sticks her hip out.

“Yeah. I’ve got the best of the best. Even the most disgusting now.”

Benny follows Arcade, but before he pushes the dirty cloth aside, he hesitates. For the first time he realizes he doesn’t even know this bitch’s name. It’s just always been the Courier or pussycat or baby. He turns around and she raises an eyebrow.

“What do you want?”

“I’ve been so caught up in hating you babydoll, that I don’t even know your name.”

Her smirk falters then shifts into a wide smile.

“My name is Indigo Blue. Call me Indy.”

#fallout #benny gecko #fallout benny #fallout new vegas #courier x benny #indy #courier six

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ambivalencerelations · 6 years

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Millennials are using the free market the way it was meant to be used

"Muh industry", writes entitled 50-something, wishing his entire generation had just beaten respect for inane tradition and 'The Way Things Are' into their children, like his parents did.

This morning, local industry puppet Larry Smith lamented a lack of buisness from younger, hipper audiences. "They think it's too expensive for them, but it isn't for us sensible baby boomers" he muttered, shaking his head. "They're also worried about new fads like 'Ethics'. Can you believe this?" he says, almost in shock. "Ethics. As if they alone are going to solve the world's problems. But they aren't. They're making more, actually. In fact, we're all gonna be out of jobs if this lack of buisness continues. It's stupid. They'll never do anything."

Deciding it was time to take a stand, Larry Smith sat down and wrote an article for a bottom-feeding content aggregate that occasionally tends to go viral. He indignantly titled it: "Millennials are killing this industry and they have to be stopped". Sandwiched between an article about a celebrity boob-job and copy-pasted answers from a touching askreddit post, Larry's article garnered a few curious clicks until some "Dumb Neo-marxist on Twitter made fun of it", said Larry. The article took off, "inexplicably" spreading throughout the millenial twittersphere, being re-tweeted with a few absurd comments about avocado here or there. "I think they're finally going to see the light" declared Larry, hope in his eyes, wholly unaware they seemed to be mocking it.

"It's a matter of simple economics, we gotta support the industry. I think it was Keys that said that" offered Larry, totally butchering the economist's name. "No, I don't know who Adam Smith is, but he can fuck off with the rest of you" he said to the author's (millennial) intern after they paused scrolling through absurdist memes to make a nonchalant comment about Mr. Smith's spotty knowledge of economics.

Larry's concerns are legitimate. Sales have gone down significantly in the past five years, and the statistics are showing a complete lack of interest in younger audiences, as is the case with many other industries. "It's been hell" ranted a pot-bellied buisnessman who wished to be identified as 'Shmarles G Shmoch'. "They're just not buying into it like they used to. What ever happened to my American dream?" asked 'Shmarles', petting his lapdog and pausing to take a sip from his expensive scotch at 3 in the afternoon. "Hell, I say" he repeats. "Hopefully this madness ends soon."

#shitpost #millennials #we can't all make rational decisions karen #millennials are killing #my favorite posts

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trevorbarre · 7 years

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This isn’t a particularly original subject nowadays, but I want to write it from my own perspective. I worked, as the ward manager of 3 inpatient mental health wards, throughout much of the 1990s, at St. Lukes Woodside Hospital in Muswell Hill (’Borders’?). I revisited the site of the hospital this morning to see what the developers, ‘Handover Hill’ (?), had done with this most patient-friendly of environments. I’m not actually clear what the name of these property developers is, as it’s not emblazoned in their very luxurious property pack, which was given to me by the perfectly nice and friendly estate agent rep, in their office in the grounds of the former mental hospital. Its former function as an asylum is also not mentioned at all in the pack, as we have become accustomed to expect in these kind of situations. Don’t want the punters to worry that it’s catching, now do we? This suppression of facts is both a-historic and offensive, and I don’t care how PC this sounds, Hanover Hill does seem a pretty appropriate nomenclature - the handover, at a pretty preposterously low price no doubt, from publicly owned property into private hands, mimicking, in a minor way, nursing shift-to-shift ‘handovers’. It also sounds like Hand Over Fist and even Hand Job, so make of it what you will. St. Lukes was, in many ways, a perfect site in which to deliver mental health care, and almost all of its patients, from what I could gather, loved it. Set up in 1932, as a private sanatorium for ‘neurotic’ patients (which included war veterans, the so-called ‘shell shocked’); one could easily imagine a film, set in WW2, featuring the burgeoning romance of an injured serviceman and his pretty nurse, with the backdrop of the hospital’s tiled walkways. This new development is a project to exorcise these sort of ghosts, as it always is with former mental health hospitals and their ‘disappearances’. The walkways have gone, for a start, which defined the hospital’s lares and penates for me. Can’t have such bagatelles interrupting prime real estate. Even though it f***s up the fung shui. I only wish that I had Iain Sinclair here, an excoriate of such ‘projects’ and their occluded view of the history of sites, especially of those thathave involved suffering. What we now have is the Heritage Buildings, a part of the site which has “painstakingly restored Victorian and Georgian buildings”, one of which was, in fact, built in a neo-Georgian 1930 style, and the other two in undistinguished high Victoriana. The flat/penthouse in the neo-Georgian gaff, formerly The Boardroom, went for £2,250.000. So, the madmen haven’t left, after all? This is a development aimed at the over -55s, the recently or about-to-be-retired, presumably, with plenty of Baby Boomer geld? In the brochure, we have the usual CGI visions of WASP punters, a headphone-grooving hip dad, a groovy, difficulty-spectacled mum, with lapdog, as per 18th century aristo studies bought up to date for these ‘Woodside Square’ studies. As opposed to Woodside Square Lunatic Asylum. The three original houses on the site - renamed, with predictable pomposity, Avebury (formerly ‘Center Block’), Roseneath ( aka Leawood Day Hospital, for the long term ill) and Norton Lees (formerly the nursing homes and staff canteen), with penthouse to boot. Most sinister, for me, amidst all the estate agent meta-language of bombast and bigging-up, is the rather creepy Stepford Wives scenario of lines like “...the perfect, stylish setting in a neighborhood of like-minded people”. The sort of people who objected to the Friern Reprovision Project (in 1994), which re-sited the former Monster Asylum’s more difficult ‘clients’ slap bang in the middle of solicitor and senior manager land? Are there really so many over -55s who believe this rinsed history and alternative reality? Exclusivity is always a powerful draw, so I doubt whether the particular former layers of this particular cake will mean anything to those who are sold by the underground car park or the (undisclosed) service charge. Most annoyingly of all, for me, they have seen fit to feature the picture of an MGB GT, my car of choice - (with crappy decals, what’s more) - what this says about me, I shudder to think. More ‘dad’ stuff, I expect.

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