#but this latest batch? this rules. i'm so into it
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just got caught up with bob's burgers, and so far I'm enjoying season 14 much more than I expected to!
not to say I went into these new episodes assuming I wouldn't like them, but certainly the past few seasons (10–12 for sure) have fallen into a rut where like, there's a handful of episodes that are pretty solid, there's one or two that annoy me enough to skip over on any rewatch, and the majority are deeply neutral. the plots are just okay, the jokes are a little lacking, but the fundamental dynamics are still there, and I like those enough that bob's remains one of my go-to shows to have on in the background, even if I don't feel inspired or compelled enough to engage with the show the way I used to
but season 14 has been an unexpected departure (and actually, I think the back half of 13 as well) — it's funny, because I don't actually think the show is as funny as it used to be, but they're taking bigger swings with the plots in a way that's very rewarding to watch! I don't mind that there are fewer jokes, because I'm invested in the more emotional turns the show is taking
like—holy shit, "the amazing rudy"? a standout from start to finish. and I think a great example of what this season is doing in terms of its emotional arcs, and what I'm glad it's leaning into
I've felt very neutral toward bob's the past couple years, because it's felt so staid. there's an accepted level of consistency that bob's or any other animated sitcom maintains, and I get that, but I think the show really really struggled in its recent seasons with honoring that consistency, roughly maintaining the status quo, while also creating plots that were—and this sounds bad to say—but, plots that were interesting. there were a lot of low stakes, anticlimactic resolutions, unexciting premises—situations where there's not a lot of room for the writing to go, and not a lot for the characters to play off
but what I think this latest season is doing so well is leaning into its history, taking advantage of all the episodes of relationships and interactions and story they've developed to create setups that really fucking land! "the amazing rudy" is a phenomenal episode, but would it have hit as well in season 4 or 5, when we've only met rudy a handful of times? maybe, but I think it's so much more rewarding as this late series entry, when it can pay off all the previous mentions of rudy's home life, his relationship with his dad, his relationship with his—until this ep—unseen mom, his hobbies, his anxieties, his friendship with louise, the role the belchers play in his life—it's so good!!
this season is a couple eps shorter from the strike, but really hoping that the rest of the 14 and what's to come in 15 follows the trend, because it feels like the show is finally starting to figure out its voice and its footing again
#bob's burgers#like I did find the booger wall scene in 'bully-lieve it or not' literally nauseating BUT#the reveal that zeke once bullied a kid for having a lisp was a genuinely surprising and genuinely impactful moment!#and again. it's all about leveraging that history. we've seen over a decade of zeke and jj being ride or die friends#and because of all that established history the bullying reveal was that much more shocking#not to mention how it set up this look of genuine betrayal on jimmy jr.'s face. the show earned all the gravity it gave this moment!#it's great! it's so good!! also my god. don't get me started on fraud of the dead#I think a show that runs this long needs to reinvent itself every so often. because you have to#and I think bob's has struggled with having hit this plateau and floundering a little in terms of deciding on a new voice or direction#but this latest batch? this rules. i'm so into it#kayla for blacklist
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✦ : ❝ 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 !
꒰synopsis—wc꒱ in which he sees his first snow. 826 words.
꒰warnings꒱ possibly ooc, reader is inazuman, not fully edited.
꒰adi moment꒱ merry christmas and happy new years @realkavehgf! you're an insanely kind person, and i'm frfr wishing you the best for 2024! this was my first time writing anything specifically for kaveh, so i do hope that i did him some justice. hope you enjoy! ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀི১
Sumeru, as one might come to assume upon learning of the nation’s typical climate, has never exactly been known to experience cold weather. Quite the opposite, really, if you were being entirely honest with yourself; if your time spent traversing the Dendro Goddess’ domain were to ever be considered a trustworthy testament.
Hot was… an understatement, to say the least. A crude one, at that, almost akin to a dry joke that you might overhear while attempting to navigate the bazaar during one of the more unbearable summer days, sweaty palms just barely managing to maintain their grip on your groceries, the sun beating down on you with such intensity that you’d fear that your clothing would become soaked by the time you managed to return to the comfort of your small apartment.
Truthfully, it was no surprise that Kaveh had never once seen snow. Expected, even, long before he came to admit the fact of his own accord, the both of you lying within his bed as you mourned your first winter away from home, gentle hands pulling you close, almost comfortable enough within his embrace to disregard just how uncomfortably warm the temperatures remained during—what should’ve been—one of the coldest months of the year.
It was convenient, then, that he’d receive an invitation to Mondstadt City during the midst of the season, the Favonius library (of which you’d heard its librarian was a rather mysterious woman who’d attended the Akademiya alongside your lover) eager to host such an accomplished Kshahrewar scholar like himself.
The both of you jumped at the opportunity, albeit for different reasons. The notion of inspiring future architects did, after all, hold quite a large appeal, doubly so considering the scrutiny that the arts had faced under the previous Grand Sage’s rule; and you’d never before been given the chance to visit the Nation of Freedom, either, what with the Vision Hunt Decree weighing so heavily over your ability to sightsee.
Besides, getting to witness your beloved’s face practically pressed up against the window of your shared hotel room, expression overtaken by sheer admiration as he admired the snowfall… Certainly was an added bonus. Especially so when it landed the both of you where you were now, gently tugging at his gloved hand as the both of you took a stroll through the desolate streets, the moon having long taken its rightful place within the sky.
Especially so when his cautious inquiry finally melted away into a gentle sense of elation, arms fully outstretched for second-long intervals before being pulled towards his face, gorgeous crimson eyes admiring the designs of the tiny flakes tangled up within the scarlet yarn.
Yes, especially so when you’d impulsively moved to gather up some snow as his back was turned towards you, hitting him directly between the shoulder blades as he admired the latest batch caught on his clothing, the both of you soon running to find cover from the barrages of snowballs being sent each other's way; initial inhibitions wholly abandoned as you fought to gain the upper hand.
… Not that it was even that hard. Kaveh had certainly been put at a disadvantage, shuffling through the snow like a fish out of water, the heavy layers he’d simply insisted on wearing only serving to drag him further down into the snow.
“Dearest,” he huffs, breath wisping out of his mouth as he moves to duck behind the fountain, mittens haphazardly grabbing onto as much snow as they can as he makes his descent. With the distance, you miss the way that his golden hair has begun to stick onto his forehead, the way that he has to readjust his scarf in order to allow more air to flow through as he pulls himself back up. “I love you, truly, but please do go a bit easier—”
His final words are cut off by the sound of a snowball slamming directly onto his face, your own eyes widening as the excess falls to the floor, lips thinned in an attempt to restrain your laughter as you emerge from behind a crate.
Scrunching up the snow he’d obtained into one of his hands, the other moves up to wipe off the rest of the offending substance, shaking off what he can from his seemingly star-speckled clothing. His teeth chatter, pale skin taking on a pink-ish hue, and you’re halfway to stammering out an apology to his uncharacteristically stiff figure before you notice the lank smile that’s tugging at his lips.
You’re hardly even given the chance to react before he retaliates, shock written across your features as your vision is obscured, body reeling back just as another one manages to make contact with your arm, hurriedly retreating only for one to collide into your back.
… His aim might just be better than you give him credit for. Though it’s hard to be mad when his laugh sounds so melodic.
“Oh, it’s so on.”
i have a taglist, which you can sign up for here!
#꒰📍꒱﹕my writing ⋆#astronetwrk#gn reader#genshin impact#genshin impact kaveh#kaveh genshin#kaveh#kaveh x reader#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact drabbles#genshin drabbles
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4/12/2024
Hello again, everyone...
Firstly, I just wanted to say that I think I'm more or less answering my own question from last week, specifically in that I'm hoping to capture all of the moments that canon either didn't think of or else could have included but chose not to, finding other artists and writers who feel as strongly as I do, and then passing all of that missing knowledge onto the ones that want it the most.
For example...I wanted to make sure that Omega and Crosshair weren't secretly (still) chipped, but that moment never came even though Captain Rex himself suggested that everyone not confirmed to be without one was a ticking time bomb.
I wanted to see Omega and Crosshair discuss the loss of Tech onscreen, but even though these two both had a clear relationship with him, that moment never came.
And lastly I want to see CX-2's face to know who he is under that mask...but, tragically, though I'm not the only one who has suspicions, that moment might not come.
This and a growing list of unaddressed content is pretty much the difficulty I've had from the very start of this thing, so...maybe that's my real purpose here. Maybe, alongside a lot of other talented artists and writers, I'm meant to help fill in the blanks for others as well as myself, if only to make the growing list of unresolved issues that this show has had since the beginning not feel so overwhelming any more.
Maybe we were also always meant to start telling our own tales about these mega-corporate creations, and in so doing, change them from some way to rake in more cash and give them more personality, more likes and dislikes, more history, heck, possibly even more life if it means our own lives aren't so isolated and confined to the rules of some CEO in a suit.
So, whether or not we follow their social media accounts, watch their shows, and buy their merchandise...I hope none of us ever stop building our own myths and legends about these heroes. Whatever we do or wherever we go, I hope we don't stop creating.
Now...with that thought in mind, let's get to the weekly picks.
The Bad Batch Fan Art
Omega, Crosshair, and Tech by @doodlingfoolishness
Captain Baja Blast by @evefangirl
CX-2 by @keeradaks
Captain Howzer by @thespianwtch
The Bad Batch Fan Fiction
Consequence by @the-kittylorian-writes
Food Fight by @buckybarnes-and-noble
A Rest by Tanwyn
The Clone Wars Fan Art
Let's go to work by @thassakolti0
Happy Spring by @coline7373
Hardcase by @clone-trooper-cheese
The Clone Wars Fanfiction
Forget Me Not by @jedi-princess-kestis
The Mandalorian Fanart
Paz Vizsla by @gqe-leh
Tales Of The Empire Fanart
Barriss Offee by @raidantra
She's baaack!! by @master-tired
Barriss Offee by @revanknightwoman
And so, in order to support all our writers and artists, please check out the links I included above, like, comment, and reblog as you would with anyone else.
Please also like and reblog this latest installment so that these links can be spread around to as many other fans as possible, just in case not all of them can tune in at the same time. Thank you, good morning, and good luck.
No Pressure Tags: @ilovemedia @gun-roswell @theosb0rnway @ci-avmovies14 @called-me-vicky @saphiranishimurashan @themightychipmunk42 @sharpasanaro @ray-rook @serinzatravel-blog @chefobiwankenobi @smw-on-kamino @here-comes-the-moose @trixie2023 @skellymom @talesfrommedinastation @callsign-denmark @melymigo @groguandthebadbatch @ankossss @littlefeatherr @yeehawgeek and anyone else who might be in search of more of the good stuff.
#star wars#fandom friday#star wars fandom#the bad batch#the bad batch fanart#the bad batch fanfiction#the clone wars#the clone wars fanart#the clone wars fanfiction#the mandalorian#the mandalorian fanart#tales of the empire#tales of the empire fanart#captain howzer#captain rex#captain gregor#tbb crosshair#tbb echo#tbb hunter#tbb omega#tbb tech#tbb wrecker#commander cody#arc trooper hardcase#paz vizsla#barriss offee
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BEFORE THE BEGINNING — three sentences (or more) about something that happened before the plot of my current project 💜💜💜
No Excuses Writing Meme
(I got excited. I'm so sorry)
It's a rare, slow night. He's sprawled on his cot, legs hanging over the edge, a beam from the sunset cutting across his pillow just barely out of range of his eye. The pervasive scent of tobacco grows yet more potent with the flick of a pocket lighter on the other side of the tent, and as it tickles his nose, it carries his attention away from the clipboard on his chest and up, up, up into the canvas ceiling.
Not for the first time, he asks himself why he's doing this.
More than anything, he loves stomping on an equilibrium with his freakishly large boots. He's known ever since he was a kid pouring chocolate pudding in his brother's diaper that if there's a set of rules, manners, societal expectations, or demands—unspoken or not—put on his shoulders, he's going to cheerfully fling them into the stratosphere with a big, big smile. Sometimes it's for fun. Sometimes it's to get a rise out of somebody. But most often, it's about enjoying the chaos that begins seeping into the air as people realize that what they believed was indelible is, in fact, easily smeared. That lovely look in their eyes, cagey or relieved. Their growing understanding that the door was never locked in the first place—that they only believed it was because that's what they were told. It's fucking intoxicating.
He has had only one sacred, untouchable rule in place for the past six fucking years. One. And he's about to throw it out the window.
"Who pissed in your oatmeal this morning?"
"Your daddy and his fat dick," he tosses back to his bunkie absently.
"Fuck off. Love the new carpeting, by the way." As his bunkie walks around, his boots crush the dozens of crumpled balls of paper scattered all over. "You want me to get started on razing the goddamn forest for you?"
"Almost done. Hey, if you're waiting on me, you might as well go. Just save me a spot, huh?"
Predictably, there are no complaints, not when there's a fresh batch of impressionable corpsmen with money to burn. The moment the door shuts, he heaves a sigh and sits up and shrewdly considers the clipboard. In this world, there are things that deserve to be toppled, and there are the rare things that deserve to stay at rest. He tries to imagine telling himself ten years ago that he'd ever have a rule to leave somebody alone, can practically feel the spit splattering on his face from Younger Him's guffaw.
Right there, right under his pericardium, there is an old, familiar ache beginning to creep in.
All right, that's it. He signs his name with a flourish, then impatiently blows it dry. I'm not fucking anything up. He folds it unevenly and shoves it into an envelope. This is not a big deal. He doesn't even have to reference anything to fill out the destination—might as well be tattooed on his brain after he heard the news a couple of weeks back. I don't even know why I'm wasting this much energy. Jesus Christ. It's a letter.
Crunch, crunch, crunch. He goes out of his way to step on as many of the abandoned notes as possible just to buy himself a little more time. But eventually he's sauntering across the compound all the way to the office with not a soul looking to distract him further.
The clerk's got his muddy boots up on the table as he leans back in his chair, thumbing through the latest smutty novel that was traded into camp.
He tosses the letter in front of him. "Outgoing."
"The bag's two steps that way," the clerk mutters, eying the envelope like it might explode.
"You don't get paid to sit there and jerk off, sweetheart," he drawls cheerfully as he leans against the wall and cocks his head. His grin slowly widens as the clerk uses the spine of the book to nudge the letter across the desk and into the mail bag, and the huff of relief he hears when it lands without issue is almost better than a good fuck. "You coming to the poker game?"
"I learned my lesson last time after those sandwiches."
Ah, that was a good night. He'd thought the whole table might start breathing fire in between the coughing and the tears. "All right, your loss." He pushes himself back to his full height and shoves his hands in his pockets as he slinks toward the exit.
"Hey, Bardonaro, are you the asshole who cut out these goddamn pages and glued them back in the wrong order?"
With a brightly whistled tune, Leo ducks through the door without so much as a backward glance.
#this is not a surprise reveal to anybody if we can be honest but i still had fun with it all the same#takes place a few days before midnight trepidations#some things are evergreen#my writing#ask meme answers
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heeeheeehooohoooo, i was tagged to do this AU GAME by @creepkinginc @metalheadmickey & @energievie -- who all had brilliant ideas for stories! HOW FUN!
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rules (more or less):
use this au generator to assign you an au, this fan fiction trope generator to give you a trope/situation/sometimes another au, feel free to keep clicking until you get something that inspires you.
then try to come up with the title, plot, vibe, and details of a fic including whatever the generators gave you. you don’t actually have to write it, just put the concept into the world! this is basically just a thought experiment.
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au generator gave me: 2000s AU
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fic trope generator gave me: have one of your characters get home way too late and the other character has been pacing and worrying all night.
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title: Y2K Mayday
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let's plot:
[[ as much as i would like for this to be a multi-chap, this is a one-shot, let's be real. i also basically wrote it lol so i'm throwing it under a cut! ]]
the year is 1999.
mickey & ian are roommates.
they both moved out of their family homes for same, same, but different reasons. mickey just finished a prison stint & wanted to stay as far the fuck away from terry as humanly possible. ian's getting back on his feet after his latest episode & is ready to try his hand at recovery when there aren't a million gallaghers checking in every couple of minutes.
ian picked a two-bedroom apartment in a neighborhood that's still technically the southside, but it inching towards something nicer. he thinks that mandy's going to move in with him, but then she gets some job opportunity/sugar daddy a few states over, so at the last minute, she sends mickey to move into the room she was supposed to take.
they keep their distance at first. just two guys, going about their days, figuring their shit out, sharing a roof. they don't need to be friends, they just need to not kill each other when one of them forgets to swap out the toilet paper roll.
but then, little things start happening.
an impromptu movie night over a shared batch of mickey's precious pizza rolls... ian picks up mickey's favorite beer on his grocery run, putting it front & center in the fridge so he won't miss it... they both start picking up around the place, trying to get the other one to notice how many unprompted chores they both have done...
ian starts to wonder... he obviously thinks mickey's hot. he has eyes & a dick that takes an interest whenever mickey's bending over to snag something out of the oven. & yeah, he's heard things from mandy that would lead him to believe he's not barking up the wrong tree. but mickey's not out out & ian's not going to just bring it up in casual conversation unless he's also prepared to get his face bashed in.
cut to: New Year's Eve.
ian's at the gallagher house for a party. he doesn't know what mickey's plans are. he tried to ask him about it, but mickey kept dodging the question. maybe he's working? surely the club that he's a bouncer at is having some big event. but why wouldn't he just say that? ...maybe he had a date that he didn't want to tell ian about?
fuck, that boils his blood. it makes his skin crawl, thinking about mickey kissing someone else on new year's eve. starting a new fucking millennium doing anything other than bouncing on ian's cock...
it's almost 2am, a fine time to still be out on new year's, but suddenly ian can't imagine being anywhere else but with mickey. he's gotta get home! NOW!
his legs shake the whole L ride.
what if he gets home & mickey has someone over? what if he's not even there & ian just has to nurse his broken heart alone in an empty apartment? what if mickey is there. but he laughs in ian's face at the very mention of them being together as more than roommates & occasional movie buds?
somehow, he manages to get to their apartment. he opens the door to find mickey biting his thumb nail & pacing around the living room.
"mick?"
"what the fuck, gallagher?! do you have any idea what time it is? where've you been?"
"fiona threw a party. what's going on?"
"shit..." he swipes a nervous hand down his face. chuckles a litte. "i'm a fucking idiot. you didn't come home. thought something happened to you..."
"it's new year's eve."
"yeah man, i know. guys at the club were talking about fucking Y2K... i dunno, got all in my head."
"aw mickey, you were worried about me!"
"was not."
"you just admitted it! plus, you're burning a hole in the carpet."
"whatever."
as ian approaches, he notices the blush on mickey's cheeks. he wants to see that flush cover a whole lot more than just his pretty face. & something tells him that he might just get his wish...
"sorry i missed midnight."
THEY SMOOOOOCH! THE END!
#what do we think?#this felt good! thanks for the exercise pals!#i'm not tagging anyone because i feel shy! but doooo it!#lemme read your boy doll aus!#tag games#au game#shameless#shameless fanfiction#ian x mickey#bee writes 🐝 ✍🏼
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Writing Patterns
Rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern!
I was tagged by @auburnlaughter a little while ago; thank you! ❤
I'm doing the latest 10 fics I've posted to Ao3, oldest first, and I'll include links because... every excuse to self-promote? Everything here is Star Wars, most of it Bad Batch (from before s3, save the last two), and most of that is more or less Crosshair-centric.
Sunrise Caf (TCW post-war AU, pre-CodyWan, 1k, G)
“Do you still prefer your caf black, now that you have access to more options?” Obi-Wan asks as Cody sits down at the small kitchen table in Obi-Wan’s new apartment.
Labor of love is ours to endure (TBB s1 finale AU-CD, 4.6k, T)
Wrecker watches as Hunter talks to Crosshair about chances; watches as Omega says her piece too.
To feel your heart as it's keeping time (TBB, Batch twins, 3.3k, G)
Since Crosshair’s recent and long-awaited return to their squad, Tech has found that treating him like one would a feral tooka has been relatively successful in getting the sniper to relax around him.
Don't You Doubt (TBB, Cross & Hunter, 2.5k, T, part of a series)
Pabu is very quiet at night.
And please be there; I can barely hang on (But oh I wait 'til I break) (TBB, h/c, 3.8k, T) (this one's in Russian too!)
Crosshair didn't know they'd be here.
Mirjahaal (TBB, pre-show, 2.1k, G)
Echo doesn’t know what Crosshair’s problem is.
Breakthrough on Bracca (TBB, AU-CD, 4.6k, T)
Crosshair wakes to a face on fire and a clear mind.
Change of Heart, Change of Plans (TBB, AU-CD, 5.6k, G)
A flash of white armor in his periphery, accompanied by the sound of familiar voices – or rather, one familiar voice from multiple people – has Hunter diverting from their route, leading his siblings into a dark and dank alley, waiting for the troopers to pass.
We're Still What's Left (TBB s3e4 cont., grief, 1.7k, T)
“But… how did you escape?” Hunter asks the kid, and Crosshair figures that’s his cue, even if he’s not sure he’s quite ready for whatever awaits him out there.
Homecoming Heroes (TBB, sequel to above, 2.8k, T)
Pabu is… nice.
Thoughts and tags below the cut:
So... Patterns? I was gonna say something about fairly long sentences, but then half of them turned out to be pretty short, actually 😅
I guess I try to set the scene: Who's there, what are they doing, what's the Problem (if the characters know, yet) etc. Try to make clear what canon scene we've jumped into, when relevant (I.e. in Labor of love, which picks up towards the end of Kamino Lost, when Hunter has just said something like 'you gave us a chance Crosshair; this is yours' and Omega has said 'they're still your brothers, Crosshair. You're my brother too.', which is what Wrecker's thoughts are referring to.)
I also tend to start right in the middle of Something, especially in the more action-filled ones. This is both because I then avoid losing people to "boring" exposition or world-building or descriptions right out of the gate, and also because beginnings are Hard, so the way I typically start writing a fic (or anything, really) is to start with whatever scene I've got in mind that sparked the idea for the rest of the fic, regardless of when it actually takes place, and then build the rest around it. Or by writing notes/something like an outline if I don't have a specific scene in mind but more just a sort of general feeling or plot or theme or something I want to write about, and then expand those into text-text. This approach means I often end up explaining the things that need explaining throughout the fic, so there's no need to put it all at the beginning. And also - it's fanfic. By far most of my readers will already be familiar with the characters and general setting; I just need to make clear where and how we might deviate from that.
That's all, I think. But hey! if you got this far and you noticed something I didn't, why don't you tell me? (please be nice, though, I'm not looking for critique; just curious)
NPTs: @whimsicalmeerkat @hxad-ovxr-hxart @spacemagicandlaserswords @battlekilt
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Hello friend Karrde!
I am still slogging through writers block and as such I have been remis in reading. However I do have a few Rec's for the week.
Starting off with the triumphant return of our friend Caro @rain-on-kamino and her lovely fic Dancing in the Dark featuring the handsome and talented Commander Thorn! and who can resist dancing to such a great song.
The amazing @daimyosprincess has given us the mind (and heart) melting 5th instalment of Ex Libris - preface... READ IT! Like top tier schmexyness as always but the second half of the story got me. The absolute truly vulnerable intimacies and fierce care shown.... Chef's Kiss!
Now it is very safe to say that I am not the only one who hates to shop for a new swim suit, but after @pickleprickle tale of a certain Jedi (This is going swimmingly)..... Well lets say its less of a chore now.
Now for the Fun and Artsy submissions!
This Beautiful Portrait of Jedi Kelleran Beq @uzuriartonline
Tech By @lightspringrain
And of course I have to send in my Bebe Batch bois from @ladykagewaki for her lovely 2 part Outing and Recovery comic
I had a few other art pieces in mind but was not sure how you felt about the schmexy AO3 based art....
As always much appreciation and love to ya for putting this together every week! We are not worthy!
I've bookmarked the latest chapters for Chuckles and the kiddos to hopefully get caught up tomorrow I'm a slacker. But I must ask.... Does he ever get back to Bolts? My heart aches for our fly boy, he needs cuddles.
AHHHHH SO MANY GREAT RECS IN THIS ASK!!! AND SUCH A GREAT VARIETY!!! Thank you as always for taking the time to curate such a list (and I am totally fine with spicy art, as long as it's tagged appropriately and doesn't violate any of the other rules).
Participate in Fandom Friday to show your favorite creators from this week some love! :)
#FANDOM FRIDAY#creator appreciation#art rec#fic rec#star wars#nsft#lemon#lemony lemon#commander thorn#thorn x reader#thorn x you#boba fett#the clone wars#tcw#the book of boba fett#tbobf#boba fett x reader#boba fett x you#college au#qui-gon jinn#qui-gon jinn x reader#qui-gon jinn x you#the bad batch#tbb#the mandalorian#kelleran beq#tech#echo#wrecker#crosshair
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Last Line Challenge
Rules: Make a new post and post the latest line in your WIP & tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you feel like).
I got tagged by @shootingstarpilot for this, which is very neat. Never actually done one of these before properly, so I'mma share two different last sections; some from my current in-progress Big Fic, and then some from the last thing I actually wrote.
(Under a cut because two snippets is gonna be long.)
So first off, the last thing I actually wrote;
'“Jesus.” Tim muttered. “I sort of wish I hadn’t asked, now.”
Phantom flushed, going slightly green. “Sorry.”
“Hey, better to know than not, isn’t it? If there’s a chance of running into stuff like this?”
“I- well, yes, but it’s not your job to deal with them.”
“Yeah, well, the magic users in the League aren’t always gonna be around, and even if it’s your job to come grab them, they might still need delaying or whatever.” Tim shrugged. “So I’d rather know.”
“That’s fair.” Phantom admitted, shifting to lean back in his seat. “So. Anything else you want to know?”'
I'm not 100% sure what's going to happen to this, admittedly, but this is the end result of my attentive deficit muse getting into two new-old fandoms recently so there we go. It's DC/Danny Phantom.
Anyway, second off, the last little bit of my current main project, which has been going on-and-off for a while;
'
“Huh.” Fox says, after a few attempts that die before he manages to get a word out. “Ok. Right. Ghost let me go so I can go hug my vod, please.”
Ghost does not let Fox go, and instead after a moment the entire mass of darkness lifts up into the air and floats over the group to place Fox down next to Ponds. Then it vanishes, and Fox promptly grabs on to him while the rest of the batch crowd around.'
This one's a crossover too, the end result of me just deciding that Weird Eldritch Things Are Neat, Actually and starting writing without thinking. It's now 15 chapters and like, 60k words, not quite done, but also hit a roadblock recently in the form of the aforementioned 'falling into new-old fandoms again' thing. It's Star Wars/Hollow Knight.
checks my people list uuuuuh right I don't have many people to tag really... @kalicofox is my main writing buddy, so here you go, and then I guess anyone else who sees this and feels like doing it can go ahead as well? No pressure, of course, there's a lot going on.
#writing#fic writing#the development of fic#tag games#fandom tags are;#star wars#hollow knight#dc#danny phantom#snippets#i honestly really like both of these fics#the SW/HK one has been a ton of fun to work on and it *is* actually going fairly well in terms of 'being written'#i've just been busy recently#but it's all planned out and everything so all i need to do is not be too tired to type#meanwhile the DC/DP stuff is a bit weirder#mostly because i don't know DC canon well at all#and barely know anything about DP (aside from slowly watching the show)#but it's still a pretty fun thing to be poking at and i think i will expand it more when i have time#at the minute it's basically just concept + half an ending but i'll get there
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Rules: Make a new post and post your latest line from your WIP & tag as many people as there are words.
Thank you @the-bad-batch-baroness for the tag! I never get tagged nor talk much with these things besides people using my gifs so this was really nice! So I'm going to do 2 of my current WIPs!
I am actually currently working on the 2nd part of my Walking on New Legs OC introduction. I was planning on trying to finish it today.
Once Dante deemed Echo good to be on his own again and able to return to the other clones in the barracks, Dante left him to his own devices.
This is a Bad Batch Pet Store Workers AU idea that has become a guilty pleasure for me. Going to be in similar style as my other headcannon/story trope ideas posts.
On weekends, Omega can be found running around the store as the store's unofficial employee; she's under the age of 18 so she cannot legally be an employee and she mostly just runs around playing with all the animals.
Tagging: @nahoney22 @zoeykallus @annwayne @brokenphoenix99 @angelltheninth @techtalksfics @moonlight-sonata99 @seriowan @toska-writes @neon-junkie @clone-whore-99 @stripeverse
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Lies in Being Bold - A Maximum Ride Fanfic
Chapter 2: Acclimating (Trying To)
Max had been pretty down in the dumps since Fang abandoned everyone so the rest of the flock thought it'd be a good idea to stay with her mom, Valencia, and her half-sister, Ella. They thought her family would cheer her up. Adam wasn't really sure if it was working though, especially with Dylan there. If he didn't get on her nerves before, he definitely did now.
Adam, besides a few moments here and there, did his best to forget Fang even existed. He even threw the ring Fang had gotten him for his birthday into a nearby pond with support from Nudge. Which he immediately regretted and dove into the water to get it back. He found it and made Nudge vow to never bring it up.
But other than that, life was good. This was probably the longest the group had gone without an injury of some kind. Gazzy had won like twenty bucks off of Max's mom in a poker game, Nudge took up baking again and sometimes let Adam help her (emphasis on sometimes), and Adam signed up for online college classes. Back when they were with Anne, she made him do a placement test to figure out what grade he should go into and he actually ended up getting his GED instead thanks to the School's lovely education system.
This was one of the times Nudge didn't let Adam help her bake, so he opted to just sit and watch her. Max came through the front door and Nudge immediately rushed to her holding a cookie from the latest batch.
"Taste," She demanded while shoving the cookie into Max's face.
"Oh, what? You didn't trust my opinion?" Adam asked with an overdramatic offended expression.
"Oh, zip it," Nudge said over her shoulder before she looked back to Max, "here." As soon as Max opened her mouth to say something, probably "no" by the look on her face, the cookie was put into her mouth anyway.
"Your mom's been teaching me how to cook. Too dry? Too chocolatey?" Nudge rambled on.
"'Too chocolatey' is an oxymoron," Iggy spoke up from the living room. Adam heard a faint giggle from Ella before Iggy asked her to keep reading Tarzan to him. He could tell that she had a little crush on the lanky guy.
Max didn't say anything, she looked upset. But these past eight days, that's all she looked. Nudge walked back to the kitchen when Max and Valencia started talking.
"I'm tellin' ya, Nudge, you gotta cook them for like two minutes less," Adam went back to explain, "they're good when they're a little doughy still."
"Alright, I do that for the next batch," Nudge rolled her eyes and took a bite out of the cookie.
"Someone's coming," Angel said suddenly. God, she always made Adam's hair stand on end. That kid was creepy as hell. "It's Jeb...Jeb and Dr. Hans." She clarified after a moment. Oh great, just a casual meet-up with Max's estranged father and the crazy scientist who almost killed Fang. Why would any of them not want that?
"How'd they-" Max murmured before turning to her mom, "you told them we were here?! You know I hate seeing Jeb! And Dr. Hans! He could've killed Fang!" Adam's heart pinged at hearing his name. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Angel give him a sympathetic look.
"I know, honey," Valencia spoke calmly, "but Jeb called and said he just wanted to talk to you. Something urgent, he was really insistent."
"I'm not talking to him," Max huffed and started storming off down the hall, but Dylan's voice made her suddenly stop.
"If Max doesn't want him here, he shouldn't be here." That guy was a real ass-kisser.
"Don't worry, Max," Angel had gotten up and took Max's hand in hers, "whatever he says, we're in this together. We're the flock."
Adam could tell that he and Max were thinking the same thing: jeez, this kid switches up fast. Just last week she was trying to overthrow Max's 'rule' over the flock.
"Let him in," Max said with a shrug after a moment.
---
It wasn't long after Angel's prediction that the two men came through the door. Adam hung back. He didn't have as much beef with Jeb as the rest of the flock and Jeb seemed to forget that he existed, and Adam wanted to keep it that way. But that didn't mean he wouldn't glare at him in support.
"So much for my vacation," Max muttered and crossed her arms, which Angel mimicked. And Dylan (ew).
"I'm sorry to interrupt, but we really need to talk to you, all of you," Jeb spoke, "but especially Max."
"This oughta be good," Max said with a roll of her eyes, "what? Are we needed in the coldest part of the earth? Or to take down another unwater lair?"
"No," Jeb said, very clearly irritated which very clearly amused Max, "this is bigger than you, bigger than all of us. I need you to open your mind and listen."
"Last time I 'opened my mind'," She used air quotes, "you injected hallucinations into it."
"Just hear me out. An evolutionary revolution is happening all over the world."
"Which means what exactly?"
"Worldwide, a new generation of children with supernatural powers has appeared," Dr. Hans explained.
"Sounds like we should join 'em," Adam spoke up from where he still sat at the kitchen counter. The two men only glared at him before looking back to Max. "Alright fuck me I guess," Adam muttered quietly to himself.
"These are the type of people you will be leading after you save the world. It's time you start leading them," Dr. Hans told her sternly, "now."
Adam looked over at Max. She didn't usually take being told what to do well, but she seemed to be interested. He sighed and zoned out of the conversation, it's not like he had anything to do with the crazy scientists' plans. He was supposed to be dead by now. Just a failed version of an eraser to be put down.
"...We want Max to breed. Produce heirs. Who will govern the world after she dies," Dr. Hans' words brought Adam back to reality.
What the-?
"Oh, no," Max shook her head, seeing Jeb glance at Dylan.
"Over my dead body," Max's mom put her hand on her shoulder, "the hells wrong with you? She's barely fifteen!"
"Oh, thank you. So it's not just me," Max looked relieved.
"We have a house in Germany that-" Dr. Hans started again.
"No! You've already put too much on her with the whole saving the world deal, now you want her to do it with a baby on her hip? Are you insane?!" Valencia interrupted him, queen shit.
---
They all got onto the private plane not an hour later. Valencia said she wanted to at least see "Gen77" and Max folded like a lawn chair, she truly was a mama's girl at heart. But there was at least soda in there. Max opted to fly herself outside of the plane to clear her thoughts.
Adam and Nudge were chowing down on the last cookies left when Angel ran past them yelling at the pilot. This gave them all an extra second to brace for the impact. The screaming of metal prompted everyone to look out the window just in time to see both the plane wings plummeting toward the ground.
He took two seconds to think about his options before Adam jumped up and started his way to the door. Dylan had already tried to get to it and failed, falling to the back of the plane. Adam reached for the handle and managed to get ahold of it.
"I'm opening the door!" He yelled as a warning to everyone else, praying they all knew what happens when you open a door in a plane. With a grunt and maybe a few popped blood vessels, he got the door open. The feeling of triumph lasted for not even a second when a table hit him, sending Adam flying out of the plane.
Max watched him fly by her and looked back to the plane, her face pale watching Iggy and Nudge jumping out. Adam barely regained his control when he saw blood and brown and gray feathers fly, partnered with Nudge and Iggy's yelps of pain.
"I got them!" He yelled to Max and dove down to the two now-falling kids. How did he have them? He had no clue. Angel and Gazzy came over to help him. In an awkward mix of limbs and wings, they landed, hard.
Adam's hearing was filled with a high-pitched ringing making him only barely to make out everyone's voices. He got onto his knees, clutching his cracked rib, and gave Max a small nod that he was fine. He groaned as he took Gazzy's outstretched hand to help get him to his feet.
Max and Dylan stayed back to look for Dr. Hans as the others made their way back to civilization. Valencia said she had a friend who would patch everyone up at the vet's clinic since Jeb, for whatever reason, wanted to keep this under wraps. The moment they finally got to stop walking and sit down in a car, Adam leaned his head back and closed his eyes.
---
"Wait, so can you, like, explain that again," Adam asked a little embarrassed. He wasn't used to asking for help yet.
"Yeah," Fang nodded and stepped toward the edge of the large farmhouse's roof, "all you gotta do is make sure you get to a good height and then angle your wings just right to glide. It saves a ton of energy. Just watch, it's easier to show than explain." He flashed Adam a small smile and jumped off the roof, gracefully unfurling his large black wings. He found it hard to focus on Fang's technique, instead he watched the way the sun shined through his feathers, making them appear almost purple or blue. After a few twists and turns, Fang returned to the roof.
"Did you see?" He asked. The way he asked questions always seemed so genuine, at least to Adam. Like, if he didn't care, he wouldn't bother to ask.
"I think," Adam replied, unsure. He stretched out his wings and walked to the edge.
"You'll catch on quick, you're smart," Fang reassured him before letting himself fall backward off the roof again. Show-off. Adam waited for him to get a little further away before he jumped and flew after him.
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こんばんわ もしもし, I did a line and now I'm here to talk to you about Paparazzi.
"The Lady Gaga song?" No. "Those reprobates that follow people around with cameras?" No, but maybe some other time.
I think it should be legal to shoot them.
I'm talking about the MLM Paparazzi. "What is Paparazzi?" Well, my dainty duckling, it's a pyramid scheme that sells exceedingly cheap jewelry.
"Well, how can that be so bad?" Consider the fact that the distributors are not licensed to purchase wholesale they're paying sales tax when they buy "wholesale" even though when you buy actually wholesale, as a small business would, you don't have to pay sales tax. Along with the fact that Paparazzi's unique in that the upline does not make money from the downline's sales like nearly every other MLM, no, they make money off
I keep trying to type monkey and not money, I think I might have made this batch too strong-
They make money off their downline by buying the latest drops of new product in bulk so other lines can't purchase them then selling that to their downlines or even other lines or just hoarding it to make a faux shortage...
Even thought they can only sell them for 5$
This doesn't make money, in fact it causes a massive loss.
So why do they do it?
Because Paparazzi has a culture of and demands that their distributors maintain a certain level of product in their inventories at all time. The company drains these people dry purchasing extremely hard to sell tacky jewelry.
To buy the wholesale pieces on the website? It's 2.50$, but the uplines are selling it to their downlines for the full 5$ plus taxes and fees.
These downlines then, if they manage to make a sale, aren't making a profit because you can only sell them for 5$ by the company's own rules. Not higher, lower sometimes, but not higher.
And that's how people end up hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt to Paparazzi.
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Silent Hill 3
Every other Silent Hill game by the members of the original Team Silent has the combat, even on the hardest difficulty, so that as long as you take care to take the enemies one at a time, the most you have to learn is some precise timing. In Silent Hill 3, if you wanted to take that completionist approach, every little thing would have to be perfect.
Update
Well, based on how women are chameleons who will mold to whoever they're attached to at any given point in time, to the point that even a strong man that gets divorced will be called a racist bigot etc. and accused of raping the kids possibly, there's no meaningful source of will to go on but to admit that existence is not just ruled by but was literally generated from the darkness.
Any other way just doesn't make sense.
The overcoming of laziness is limited to evil, selfish intentions.
Update
The updating of posts is limited to the most recent post. That sucks
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fwrz0-dnZIA - Imgur
That poll on whether people want shitposting is shadowbanned just like my imgur account was, and the Minecraft servers.
This is what you get when I drink even a little. Also, who honestly drinks light beer, for any purpose? That shit is basically backwash. It doesn't do anything.
You actually have to pay out of pocket for that. It isn't any cheaper.
Mountain Dew probably has a stronger effect by itself.
No, I'm going to avoid alcohol for a while, now that all that's gone.
So, now that that happened, what was it like? That was last night. There really is a sort of kaleidoscope vision overlay. It's many different round shapes of different shadings on top of each other. It was really heavy. Also, it's only just then, at that state, that I finally see exactly what they're talking about with the popping bubbles effect used to imply drunken cartoon characters. It wasn't really that bad, but I also wasn't moving.
Also, I have to disclaim that artist, because he's been called out as a Freemason now.
I don't have much to live for? Imagine things popping up here and there to get pushed back down underthumb. That might happen afresh now, but in the meantime, all that's going to proceed beyond conception stage is the steady collapse of the U.S. dollar and so forth.
I don't have much as a result of the alcohol experiment, but I know there are sweet spots that require more than any form of light beer. Look at that like drinking diet soda.
I have to come up with an estimate, because I know the highest sweet spot was somewhere close before the point of seeing color overlays. The latest batch was Captain Morgans, at 100 proof, 750mL each. I got it wrong before and thought it was 1L. 375mL raw alcohol
Basically, you can sum it up as, one of these sucked all the way down will get you to that point. (One of these is about $20)
Literally, 750mL of vodka won't do this.
It was honestly an active process keeping it down without vomiting.
The math shows Plantation overproof rum, which is all I could find overproof at only one of the Walmarts, is barely any cheaper per raw alcohol volume than a 30-pack of regular beer.
What I haven't done is the calorie total.
1 Captain Morgan - 17 servings at 122 calories = 2,074 calories
Busch at the same amount of raw alcohol at 150 calories per can = 3,686 calories
Plantation at the same amount of raw alcohol at 349 calories per 100 mL = 1,897 calories
I know I'm shadowbanned on the Internet, not from people directly linking, but from people leaving behind likes and comments in real life. But even then, I think the psychological effect of having curated amounts of likes and dislikes is absolutely working.
It's true it might not be curated per se, but that anyone redirected to there from here would be shadowbanned in that their viewcounts and responses wouldn't be recorded.
I'm actually just going to try to sleep as much as possible.
6/13
I did
I made it past the difficulty spike at the start of Doom episode four on Man and a Half in Project Brutality, with the Chaotic Random spawning preset, but I have a feeling about this mod. From past playthroughs with earlier versions, there are zoom features on a lot of the weapons which provide for better accuracy, and unless you're playing on the highest three difficulties, there isn't much reason to rely on these new functions.
6/14
It's one thing to prove something as an individual. But then proceeding to get up, each morning, and repeat said action with absolute certainty every single time is something completely outlandish in comparison. Trying to teach other people to do something right is completely unrelated to the original act of proving, because in that case you have *psychological* issues to deal with to get past, and I frankly don't deal in those. They're perpetual, the only part of this that is.
If the world really was a global village like everyone online likes to think it is, the world's problems could be solved by the means of simply proving things. But the only things that will make it on the scale of the world stage are the things that can be mass-produced to the lowest common denominator.
And I'm just thinking, at that point, who really cares? That's not what proving things is about.
Be realistic: the billions are going to drink light beer and be basic today. "Go fuck yourself" is what they tell me. They say if I don't, they'll call the police promptly, and they all have top-level sanpaku eyes to go with it.
I've been gangstalked for at least the majority of my life, building up to the point it's currently at. So I don't think those are "organic" expressions. Something artificially-rooted pulled them up to the surface like that, to be having them so consistently that you would be thinking top-level sanpaku eyes are a natural state of everyday living, which in my life it certainly is. Actually, I don't think I'm supposed to be saying that out where people can listen to it.
But even so, the modern philosophy is about self-pleasuring and reaching self-satisfaction. I am technically entitled to preconclusions that satisfy me pettily. I don't like these people.
Also, although there was the Biblical verse "render unto Caesar that which is Caesar's", when it comes down to the morality as universal laws, I just find that it's unclear whether people, be it today or in the original times because I just don't know, actually believe that "the Lord", as in landlords in the feudal times, is just providing petty-scale morality by which to stave off the hardships of greater nature. That seems to be the nature of moral guidelines which people today have, because they're holding their top-level sanpaku eyes expressions inside for that moment when you start to let slip their assumption believed to be held simply in common, it's such common knowledge, that the greater reality is just savagery plus meaninglessness superimposed, no less where it's objectively not applicable, just for its own sake.
This basically implies that the entire concept of "Lord" Biblically just renders a small creature protecting his lands from the higher powers that actually be in this universe, or whatever it is.
I always thought that the belief that human nature is inherently evil is what Satanists believe, in that they rely on this, when it's only applicable to people at their lowest, which is why that all comes down to what was referred to in the Bible as suffering the "lying in wait of the Jews". Common people today believe in the image of man at his lowest as the image of man in and of itself.
What I get for the nature of surveying I do on the Internet is fridge horror: every time a figure jumps ship, it happens in the form of expressing that *everyone* is jumping ship because it's so long overdue it hurts. This plays out when it's based on a falsehood.
Update
The Bible tries - *tried* - stating this: There is no power in Hell
The modern world holds just this religiously: There's no power in *God* - we're just looking past - in this emptiness, just what actually motivates this? There's no power in God.
I know. Just everyone looks past Christians. [This is the two paragraphs that got shadowban-deleted]
And then there's the endless self-powering rant about how they deserve this when they're so lukewarm and so people can't be blamed for that
There's no point in fame, when it comes down to it. When someone makes assumptions, that's it. What you get is *artificial.* It may as well not be a living thing. Leave the actual living thing to itself so it can actually live life instead of this box. This is fucking junk.
I guess I just have to sit here complaining about the fact that Qabbalah is the reason everyone has the most meaningful decisions in their life as a half-assed side measure. Because I fuck the Qabbalah up by being a spastic or whatever the real problem is, I can't stay out of the mental institution except by living in the mind of other people - correction: *and I *hate* that!*
Would I be less harmful if I just killed myself? The book of revelation references how this is destined to make people believe they're serving God, and it *is*, to the common person. I think you're wrong, but that doesn't make a difference, and here's the proof in the pudding: you have to *mass produce* to stimulate the actual whole world, and that means absolute garbage at the end of the line. You can't afford effortposting at every level. Not even remotely possible.
If I try saying something, the entire Biblical phrase "pearls before swine" I don't think suffices it - I don't think.
The way I talk is so sublimated, it's trannies who are finding me empowering, for all I know. Done.
I don't know what I'm doing.
God doesn't *love* us. He didn't make us with minds that would process. This platform is borderline meaningless.
For that, a lot of people today would just say there is no God and move on. Haven't I ever considered that?
Honestly my current presiding reason for religion: I talked about how you can't seriously talk about why Jesus rebuked the Pharisees and such. When you experience it, you know personally what is meant by "the lying in wait of the Jews" - that's not something that comes as reconcilable to our everyday lives - and you don't talk about that.
*That* issue is a matter of on or off - you *won't* see people talking about it in religious institutions.
I don't know why we *make* religious institutions - you do realize that takes a lot of money, right?
I guess human effort, like human lives, are considered disposable.
It comes down to the way every thing the religious leaders were saying to Jesus was, explicitly mentioned, intended to entrap him in his own words. That's part of the lying in wait of the Jews.
In fact I find it unrealistic that that went and happened, because when it comes down to it, there are plenty more situations where one can be entrapped in their own words without any of that being in truth, and yet this magically worked out. It's not a human set of matters, but ones magically strung together by "sky daddy". That's what everyone says.
It could have easily not worked out just by nature of the flawed medium of back-and-forth speaking, but instead they just said to hell with it and flipped the chess board and said here, let's just hard-rig this conversation up so it'll be cool, just like those Marvel comic books
Update
I don't think anyone out there really preaches
Update
The only "morality" I have, in common with these people whose worship is good feels, is that this platform isn't worth anything in that I have to still not get arrested, as usual - it's brutalistic, plain and simple, and then everyone is just going to nod it away like it's agreed when it is because it is - what the fuck?
I have to disavow Project Brutality against my own will because *some people* are interpreting it like that's pro-law-enforcement when it's *not*. People are obviously too stupid to see the light and will cheer for more kids in cages
Okay, so at this point I'm sold that my original take averting me from Halo is - at least in public perception, the reason I'm going to hate id software now as a whole. It's pro-police-state as its only veritable function, so that's bad
Update
I can't send a message without at least telling the viewer to off themselves "ironically". There are simply no words to work through this.
Update
Even with this platform, there's nothing that can be done except empower the already-in-power establishment. I refuse to do this for such a corrupt establishment. I'm going to be spending as much time sleeping as possible as a counter-statement to the hooligans owning up to this situation before I can even get a word in edgewise, like I'm not even here.
Update after dinner
No matter how much you think it goes without saying, "I" am not "Republicans", or "religious people" - I am a completely separate entity. All of those labels are do-nothing monsters in that they unconsciously call the Masonic police on people. Without me, the timeline would be severed. Maybe that doesn't matter *now*, but it's true. This would have never come out of them. I am a foreigner.
Is it because my family line moves from country to country based on catastrophic war events breaking out? I'm just assuming, the bloodlines of people who just live stationary would have never produced one of me, like those are a different breed. I hate being conflated with Republicans because as far as I'm concerned, they don't actually *produce* anything? They just sit as servile dogs to their masters.
I don't claim to understand them.
Update
Okay, so anything I say from my personal perspective will bite me in the ass in this political environment, since tensions have escalated so very high.
But, if you take the route of imitating exactly what the elites are supposedly already doing, you can't go wrong. I'm not saying I'm all for - I'm saying a depopulation agenda done selectively might just be an imperative for basic survival. It's so bad.
6/15
Today was my birthday. I convinced my mom to get a Captain Morgan for between me and my dad instead of the beers she proposed to him before. I found out from them that only mixing Coke as soda with this substance actually works flavor-wise.
Idiots appealing to religion over Project Brutality, it's the same thing as saying Back the Blue
This is the basis for my now supporting eugenics
Update
For a review, I'm going to watch 300 for the first time
6/16
Somehow, I see a connection between the the place I just naturally stopped at in Doom II's run of Project Brutality, which is Dead Simple, and the fact that George Soros's son, appointed as his legacy, just announced he's 100 times worse than his dad.
It was being taken as a very irresponsible statement, because it was really just being received by itself, as just in and of itself.
But in this context, it sounds less like a threat and more like a passive observation that if you proceed any further like this, you will make things a lot worse for yourself. Being an address to the forefront of the culture, it's more likely that's what it's talking about. They don't expect to do things aggressively; they expect right-wingers to take the first shot so they can do everything under the guise of defense.
Update
I recommend I Am the Painkiller difficulty
6/17
I'm still reviewing the different difficulties, but I decided that if a hub structure for the full intermission map of the shareware episode was made, it should be restricted to the highest difficulty. It has to have that tension for the atmosphere.
6/18
There was a thing with Quake's difficulties where people claim Hard is harder than Nightmare because it catches you off-guard. That may be the reasoning with why 12 / 10 difficulty feels harder.
Update
They hid the Captain Morgan after the amount my dad and I had for my birthday night. I eventually found it anyway.
Honestly, between the effects on voting, effectively diminishing the suffrage of our own for good, and the dating market, if it weren't for the women question, would Anonymous hate society as much? Serious question.
There are people advocating for monarchy just because they can't shake the assumption that Republics are going to be dominated by women's suffrage, like no matter what system you make to try to salvage, in *this* social climate, it's going to turn out the same. Really, really, really really makes you want to think, because if no one does, further extremism, down the line, is eventually going to be justified.
Also, quoting
"Prices go up when demand exceeds supply, I don’t know what anyone was thinking when they imported a bunch of demand..." (slur implied)
Also, Joe Biden's still in office
Before I had a great audience, I did a thing every day, imitating someone doing this for the eventual release of MGS V: The Phantom Pain, where if Obama wasn't out of office, I would give the daily countdown of how many were left
Also around 60% of the college population is now female, relevant as of 2021
I'm just saying, back in Roman times, which were ancient Biblical times compared to our times, people could just snap in that they could walk out en masse of working. Also, there was no gay standing around with signs. They just physically did it en masse.
Allegedly Super Monkey Ball will turn you into a man. I played it on Gameboy Advance.
And this just happened, posted to the main website
Sprinter on Twitter: "Military activity noted in the United States, the Internet is jammed everywhere footage of heavy military equipment driving through the streets of American cities, and swarms of drones flying in the sky. In 11 states of the country, serious interruptions in the Internet… https://t.co/SMMuOJUDgW" / Twitter
https://archive.is/z77GN
Update
I think I know what I really wanted out of this state of mild drunkenness that I couldn't figure out beforehand. Just hear me out real quick. When it comes down to events like this happening, that means the wheels are greased, or at least it appears in my mind, and I really don't want to think about the alternative to this. If things really happened as a regular occurrence, I would have love in my heart, and I do. But, comparing to Silent Hill 4 which got brought up from the YouTube influencing days, a situation where in truth there's no viable hope, no visible future, that makes way for unabashed hatred. What I felt that one time I got drunk and noted the Kanye lyric as relatable, "no one blames the plaintiff", underneath, *that's* how I meant it. That's why a bit later I had to come down saying I don't want to have to live making rabble-rousing for its own sake anymore. That's what I'm trying to refer to. That is something bottomless.
6/19
The episode four run on Man and a Half is finally done, and the run on Last Man on Earth has finally made it to the second episode.
Update
I thought only Hoover1979's Ultra HD textures for Doom looked good as replacements to the original textures. That only works on an outdated version of GZDoom, while Project Brutality only works on a more recent version.
Update
Well, I still think the West is doomed.
Most of the situation I think comes down to what I've heard about from Common Filth about how people in less densely populated areas have nothing to do and will just turn to drugs.
Update
I didn't know what else to do, so I threw in some Warioland II in its black-and-white form.
Now I shifted back to the 12 / 10 difficulty run.
Update
The Man and a Half run is probably the more important - that is already in Doom II
Update
Today, out of nowhere, I have energy to support myself into standing position without it feeling unnecessarily painful. But life is boring.
Update
I wish I could actually be mature. I also wish I had my own thing going, that was an active process.
Wait, never mind. I don't want to be forced to do anything
Update
As a matter of fact, don't carry on with that Man and a Half run.
Update
Now that I'm intent on actually playing it, I wanted to say that the map House of Pain in Doom episode three, especially in this format, brings back not just a reminder but memories of a relatively profound dream, that I want somebody to interpret, somehow - in some capacity. The difficulty right now is I Am the Painkiller. This is the furthest map I've made it to on the highest difficulties.
Update
I might not want to recount the dream because it's overly personal or weird.
But I've been testing these different difficulties, and if you want a continual run of the classic Doom series, I Am the Painkiller is what you want. I think.
6/20
Now doing Hell on Earth Starter Pack instead. I guess do it on Painkiller difficulty.
Update
Where there's a will, there's a way. There's the problem.
People just assume the will to do anything just comes out of a can, and in reality that's anal compulsion. I don't want to promote what tumblr and the rest of the paid web sites are promoting, so
The alternative is to do things the way you would see most people doing them, which with difficult things just means being really lazy.
Basically what I heard from Common Filth, which you would have heard if you regulared, was that people in the workforce all have their own individualized ideas of what works the best and what doesn't, and none of it integrates, so nothing is really, in that sense, upward mobility.
"God is Dead" doesn't gives the specifics of the facts of the FBI and Central Intelligence Agency doing the bidding of the enemies of those in Anonymous who are actually gathering the most important central intelligence that can work to benefit this world. Of course, that's invalid because no one likes white people.
Update
I just finished Warioland II again. Actually, as soon as I started the first stage that wasn't part of the main path as part of the game's replatability, I felt the weight of that one song.
Even then, now I'm going to start Wario Land 3. This is the game in the series that got great critical acclaim as a platformer.
I was thinking, with that last event involving the big cities, if things are getting off the ground now, I might actually work on IBM Skillsbuild, as opposed to just playing video games. Even though there was a lot of information involved in the post, no one's talking about it, so it's as if it didn't happen.
6/21
Trying Hell on Earth Starter Pack again, this time on Man and a Half difficulty
Update
It just hit me, the reason Doom's software lighting has such an extreme jump in brightness only in close quarters with a surface is because it reflects the shininess of some surfaces.
Update
Alright, so that's the best we've got. We're entirely too weak a people to actually get up and do anything about the rich jew sponsored world order, and, as it stands, not only is our only publicly-recognized motivation for doing so merely obstructionist because we're jealous or something to the exact same effect as this, the rich jew sponsored world order is still the underdogs
Update
I really wish this span of time since I was born in history had never existed. It's been garbage.
6/22
Imgur: The magic of the Internet
8H3xGiy.jpg (1024×664) (imgur.com) (zoomed in)
Update
I found out the collection of data discs with media on them that my dad has is playable - or at least I got something to play - on the PS Triple, which I have set up to an old screen, which is appropriate for DVD quality, like on these discs
One of the movies stored is Toy Story 2, which was actually very highly rated
There's also some Spongebob and Bugs Bunny - I'll probably do that first since it's shorter
6/23
There are still days coming off the conveyor line
I have Toy Story 2 running while my parents are shopping, and if nothing else, I'll play Minecraft on Hard, recreating the server from scratch until I get a starting location that's halfway workable
Update
I found the Captain Morgan again. It was in my dad's office, totally drained. It's just, what do we have to do with this much alcohol in this household? None, we just dump it out.
I've been thinking a bit about personal definitive favorite game series of all time. You have your Silent Hill (by Team Silent - so technically Siren also), MOTHER, and Wario Land. Come to think of it, is Mario even this definitive? What I always heard with Mario is that you can't go wrong. With these series, it may be more subjective.
Update
Finding a common interest with my parents was kind of hard in itself. We just watched the first episodes of Futurama on hulu. After episode 2, already there was a breakoff with me, because while I'm just barely able to sit still getting ready for a break, mom apparently was just getting in the mindset that we were "binge-watching."
I don't think we're really compatible.
The worse part is what could come down to the fact that I'm being gangstalked, with people close to me bugged to go through with the worst-case scenarios of these little things I come up with to worry about - but those things are overly specific and gone like water under the bridge. My parents are actually like this, ever since before I could ever confirm narrowly that gangstalking was present. It's as if they're reacting to a mutiny breaking out, but it's not just that. It's as if a mutiny they're reacting to breaking out, not meant to result in much because they're being the better person anyway, gets just *too* out of hand, and all of a sudden, everything flips over to where there's a mutiny that's gotten so out of hand, all reason has gone out the window for all parties, and they just act as rashly as they want. Virtually every last time this has happened, which is easy to set off in all situations, not just the exceptions, it didn't become apparent that anything was going wrong until the moment they exploded, and they're always in the right because they're the parents.
I can't get into casual anything because that underlying pressurization is always there.
Update
I failed at Hard Minecraft. I can try harder, but it's like spinning tires in a rut.
For some reason, this jogged my memory and made me finally realize, things like D. Curry "The Game" and the leftist slogan "It's not rigged, you're just losing" don't have to come out, because it's what everybody's already thinking before anything even happens. It's just how conservatards, which is what they are, are perceived. I don't really know how the description of screaming that they "game" has to do with conservatism, but the only people who actually advocate for how it was in the old days are doing this, undoubtedly.
I guess what people actually get wrong is not that set of sayings I just put out there, but this assumption people have that their talking about "conservatism" is quite literally talking about modern-day conservatives. It may be worth laughing at us for, but that is not true. These are liberals, died-in-the-wool.
That reference to having sex with a girl with a good vibe, in reality, just has to do with the effective customs process you have to go through in order to become accustomed to the prevailing social norms of the time. Really, the argument ought to be framed as Old Age-ism, because the only thing that's being said is at the door with these things, saying it's outright dead, and you need to move on, QED by evidence of feelings of self-evidence in assertion, as with everything else in life, which is all consciousness constitutes. It really is.
I'm not going to take the patient route in Minecraft. At that point you may as well just turn in your theoretical license as a hardcore gamer. If there's no way to do Hard mode proactively, then you may as well quit.
Update
I always wanted to be able to have a setup in Minecraft - and this might be something autistic because it's the same deal I had with a favorite Lego set when I was still in middle school - where I knew more or less exactly what to go to for all the initial essential resources. Doing this approach works, and on console, it works up through hard mode, but on PC, hard mode is harder than what they would have ever intended for console.
I don't know why it gets to me so deep. But I do know, all my other playthroughs of Minecraft on different setups were trying to establish this method of getting a safe zone started and then building up to having the enchantments available in the most timely fashion possible. Playing on hard and failing proves I don't really have the survival guide.
Update
There are certain questions, like is it even worth it to make farming wheat a first priority? It takes too long. Find your initial food elsewhere.
Update
Okay. The first thing is virtually always to punch your first tree, to gather at least three log blocks. These convert to wooden plank blocks which themselves convert when combined vertically into sticks. The first log block should be converted into four planks which will be combined in a square to create the crafting table. The other two log blocks should be converted into plank blocks, and using those, create only four sticks to begin with. Use these resources to craft a wooden axe and a wooden pickaxe.
The next step is to use the wooden axe to gather some more wood. Since it can be converted into charcoal later, leave it in log form.
Then go digging underground until you hit cobblestone and mine that. This is how you build your real initial tools made of stone.
If it's on Hard mode, this is actually making me think about it.
In this server, I didn't find any sheep, so I ended up stealing a bed from a village. If you can't find either, then I guess you're screwed.
Ideally, have one on your home base and one on you to use wherever whenever night falls.
Yes. Use some of the log blocks, create a furnace out of cobblestone, and cook them to produce charcoal, assuming you don't immediately find coal. This will be used to craft torches.
Usually I keep pickaxe, basic stepping-stone blocks, shovel, and torches all clumped together on the item selection with the tools in the middle for easier selection.
From what I've found, wheat farming is the most straightforward way to produce a ridiculous surplus of food items, but to bypass the amount of time required to get this surplus, you need a significant amount of bone meal, which is typically only acquired by killing Skeletons. The problem with that is that these are the most difficult and annoying to defeat of the common enemies because they constantly shoot arrows. If it's the newer versions of Minecraft, they have sped up these Skeletons so that you essentially will rely on the new Shield item, which requires iron, mined from the earth, and it's usually not found near the surface.
What I have right here is a contradiction. I expect to have enough food in supply to take on these skeletons because they're just a common enemy in the caves.
I haven't even estimated how much actual food would be enough for that initial trek to hunt down enough skeletons for the bone meal.
What I tried doing was quickly getting enough iron for an iron suit, and on Hard on PC that just isn't working.
In theory I would want the iron suit before anything, because those skeletons take a toll. There is a method where you gather a surplus of log blocks to craft a surplus of sticks in order to craft a lot of ladders and then you use this to rappel down to the level that you'll find lots of pools of lava.
Realistically you find caves just by creating the hole to do this, so getting cooked meat would be good.
Have a stone sword and a separate crafting table as well. All you need for basic tools is sticks and the cobblestone you will find in great abundance in the caves.
Also, a thing I do is create manually-constructed beacons so that you can tell where your base is from far away. It usually takes two entire spaces filled with 64 blocks to make this thing high enough, because once you're at the top, you have to dig your way back down on one of the block spires. Jump and put the blocks up underneath, and do that until you can tell the thing is visible from above at least most of the treetops, or something, and then put a torch on top before digging back down.
I actually underestimated how much wood it would take to do this, because I normally make a cramped spiral staircase, which eats up the least resources, but that's also boring.
When mining straight down, you want to stand on more than just one block at a time so that you don't fall directly through in the case of a large hole in the earth, or lava.
Which is the best level to mine iron in Minecraft 1.19? (sportskeeda.com)
"Other than that, another sweet spot is underground, at Y level 16. Since players spend most of their time underground as compared to in the mountains, this is also a good easy-to-access location."
Okay, press the F3 key to display coordinate stats
I'm used to mining with at least three blocks vertically to make it more roomy, so I'm going to mine at the levels above and below Y = 16
Update
This is taking way too long.
Update
Literally, just finding enough iron to make an iron suit of armor would be enough to be considered success in getting started in this game, but there just isn't enough. I have enough for a few new tools. That's it.
Update
They didn't make Wario Land 2 so that the secret ending opens up once you complete the map from the level end games and find a shiny spot on it - it only opens up when you get every bonus game treasure and the map.
6/24
If they didn't make it so you can save and quit once you have the treasure, this would be unbearable.
At this point, I'm a bit afraid I'm going to go stir-crazy no matter what I do.
When you combine rum and root beer, it doesn't make a nice blend; it tastes horrible. I feel a bit betrayed by that.
Update
The point was made online, and I'm basically expanding on it: we have the American revolution as our example - do you need drill sergeants barking down your neck if you're already motivated to fight and die for your country? How long until we recognize this as evil whoremongering? No more brother wars, right? World War I *and* II.
The more excited I get, the more the Internet connection gets uppity.
Honestly, wouldn't that be the first logical step in establishing a theoretical white identity, acknowledging the gross injustices of the world wars fought over petty alliances?
There are some things that can be known like witnessing (hopefully not in full) the tranny surgery in action, where you then know there are doctors who would carry something like this out no different than any other surgery.
Ironically, there isn't a lot of acknowledgement of the world wars as gross injustices in and of themselves. Usually, it's made all about the fascism of the 1900s, and not so much about the centralization of power granted but the cult of personality of it.
For those who haven't heard the quote before
"You must understand, the leading Bolsheviks who took over Russia were not Russians. They hated Russians. They hated Christians. Driven by ethnic hatred they tortured and slaughtered millions of Russians without a shred of human remorse. It cannot be overstated. Bolshevism committed the greatest human slaughter of all time. The fact that most of the world is ignorant and uncaring about this enormous crime is proof that the global media is in the hands of the perpetrators."
- Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn
The human toll of Bolshevism, which I have to stop and think about just to type out myself, makes the Holocaust pale by direct comparison, and that's monumentally more so if you don't believe the official numbers which aren't even backed by census data.
I think it goes by the wayside for most people, that quote is genuinely appealing to media as something being run by people who truly care about mankind. That's assuming an ideal world for us to live in.
This man is very quotable, and to him, this statement comes as a shock to him, whereas to most of us it wouldn't.
So I notice most of our own don't really think like that, not necessarily, not really. Those of these "Nazis" that actually own up to the fictional ideology drummed up in propaganda are just taking what has been called the "red suppository" - a lot of them are fags.
Hint: There's no help coming
Is that dismissing the whole thing? Well - technically Anonymous was mostly made up of edgy libertarians who then grew out of that phase and now don't identify explicitly as one thing or another.
The way these fantasies like the Holocaust come into being is from what has been documented of reality as the wartime abusiveness of fags, running prisons with solitary confinements.
Is that saying these fags identifying as Nazis are the real thing?
According to census data, at least 1/3 of modern jews are at least bisexual. This is according to a year before identifying with LGBTQ was as easy as signing your name.
I don't know why, but I'm of the mentality that we're in the years specified by science fiction from the 70's and so on. Where is our excuse, other than the points of diminishing returns...
A direct case can be made with the way there used to be quality content coming out of media like Disney, until they were bought out by a soulless corporation.
Unless you want to revamp the whole thing, which at that point would be more well-suited to an original company, individual efforts will just be appropriated into the corporate agenda, which is directly baited along by Blackrock.
The situation with trying to start new business based on work that just crops up organically is something dire which I haven't tried diving into to talk about.
It's, you got a license for that, you got a license for that, you got a license for that?
The reason I'm too intimidated to research it seriously is because I'm afraid that might prove too much and be touchy, when it comes to who comes out of the woodworks.
So, the perspective of the past, which is where boomers are coming from, may be "where is your excuse?", but young people today are looking at things like, what am I supposed to do?
It seems like boomers really would take Blackrock running things from behind the scenes as a reason not to work as an excuse. That's where i'm more certain actually going into the details of how the need for licenses etc. is destroying people's ability to start businesses is going to start this artificial danger for myself from people coming out of the woodwork.
Ironically, in theory, I could personally take on the challenge of all the licensing needs and fees etc., but then people in personal settings tell me all the time, constantly, about the way I do things just generally, you're trying way, way, WAY too hard.
So if you want business to be able to crop up organically, it doesn't matter if I can do it - it would be completely impersonal, by the point you actually push it through all of the corporate bookwork.
I think that's why I consider what happened to the media the best example, because you can't force that.
If anything, even if it's going to be a mockery of one, why don't we try taking "groyping" to the next phase by, openly, spontaneously debating blue checkmarks
Yes, there are inferior feelings to be felt from this. But also, who is taking them seriously?
I'm not going to personally do it because I don't want to dignify anyone in particular with a response. I'm just advocating for it to be done.
Clearly, the masses of people don't actually see the soulless corporations as soulless corporations but more like a cult of personality that they're, actually, personally a part of - what you see when you see people being busy having all the right opinions.
No one is going to take the soulless corporation stance and run with it - that's just a fantasy.
So things are just going to remain in the stagnating and breaking-down state that they are because too many people just want things to just be. The thing is, with all the people having their own personal take on advice on how things work in their own sphere that conflicts with everyone else's at some point or another, if there was an attempt at genuinely unifying this workable knowledge into something definitive - it would be a lot easier in theory just to let new people get into it and not have to make all these little things the focus.
Probably the next game I buy will be Super Monkey Ball, as opposed to Skyrim on PC when I have the PS3 version already.
Update
I finally got enough iron in Minecraft to build a full suit of armor along with the full set of iron tools, and that is because I dug and hit a cave.
Then I realized I still don't want to go in to the caves proper on hard because realistically, for food, you want steaks, and that means gathering cattle. Literally just build a fence and guide more than one in with wheat, then feed them to make them reproduce.
And since mining for the iron takes so long, that should be done first.
Update
The post that got everyone to leave
Who lives in a pineapple under the sea?
Bocchi the Rock Johnson
Update
I didn't want to go out with less than 36 steaks, going by multiples of 12, and then I didn't want to go out because that was too valuable.
For some reason, the thought of achieving success by resorting to the new version of the game's deeper caves that go down to -64 blocks where it's claustrophobic to dig for diamonds gave a flashback to the way the face was used for the stalker in Lacey's games, like this is what we're encouraging for success, becoming a complete recluse.
Update
In Minecraft, we're going with 30 steaks and 60 watermelons.
6/25 night
It takes being drunk to a certain extent to think I could stomach being a schoolboy all over again like I'm going through before-school shopping.
I think the fact that I can't has more to do with the current political climate.
Update
Now here's a hopeful thought. I think what I wanted was to try to recreate that setting from grade school where things were simple enough where, if there was a formula direly needed to be known, it would be explicitly written out on the board and discussed. It was made the main focus. What I've heard since dropping out of college - with a General Transfer Studies degree in tow though - is that once you get past the introductory levels, which is where I did drop out, the majority of professors aren't even articulate enough at it to sum up courses like that from grade school. The hopeful thought from that was that, then, I know all I have to do is find a way to personally garner that articulateness. But then how do you do that? There's no one to tell you what the vital points are.
My optimistic worldview that led to the side production of my dream project sketchup was based around this idea that all things could be reduced to that understanding of vital points and thereby compartmentalized in a way that couldn't be easily exploited, even by ulterior motives from outside. Here, I just have to acknowledge, from the point I was at, at the near end of the introductory portions of college, that was the opposite of the reality.
Update
I don't want to go crazy before I can peak. I think that's the idea.
Is this even an accurate paranoia? If I take the time out to go through course material beforehand to review it before even starting to memorize the contents in order to identify what the vitals are, and I mean to my own personal extent, that would be enough to make people view my approach to the courses as an invader.
Okay, it's true that, having a higher IQ than the professors, I have a self-image that rubs off on my expectations for other people, being way too high.
Like I told my mom today, I don't talk about that much, but you could hold me to militaristically high standards; I'm so glad you don't. She said they would *never* do that, but I said that's what I'm saying: I'm glad you don't
Update
There was some quote from Ghost in the Shell 2 that I took personally which isn't really originating from it, "God forever geometrizes" - I took that to heart because in college after introductory courses, professors, what are you doing - this is exactly what I just talked about
Update
I thought if the professors are just going to do nothing from now on but give the runaround, it might be time to rely solely on the book, but with the human element of the classroom removed, I just didn't care enough anymore.
I'm sure 8th-gen gaming becoming the norm for the industry played a part in discouragement. In the end, there was no sense of competition. I was just spending my time alone.
Update
I wish I could read a book without my own thought tangents becoming an issue.
Update
I wish it was possible to cite these things in isolation from where they came from - too bad that's cheating
Find Me (Intro) - YouTube
Update much later
Why not
▶[Dubstep] ★ Koke Rutter - Valley - YouTube
May remove it before the morning
6/25
It was right when I was deciding there really isn't anything in Minecraft interesting enough to keep me playing that hasn't already on console before that the first message representing the fags appeared in the game's starting menu.
6/26 night
Man, I really want to introduce fifth-columns as part of my daily routine
6/26
Sometimes it feels like there's absolutely nothing to do. My computer system is booked up trying to transfer items to a flash drive in a way that is really inefficient, and other than that there is IBM Skillsbuild, there posing as the education into the job market that was always going to be the end-all-be-all.
It's like there is no reality except for what can be gotten out of significant efforts, and we're just here scraping away at the surface.
I can't just go out and have a job that isn't from home. I'm getting severely, severely gangstalked.
Is there any mindset in which information can be retained? Because every time I try to read through new information ever since failing out of college multiple times, now it's traumatic, and I just feel like I'm digging through someone's trash.
Update
Real talk, was it a waste of time to worry about humanity? It just seems like all of their thoughts are wasting their time. And I mean people from other cultures like Haiti just killed off the white people living there, lived wearing the clothes the white people were wearing at that time, and then starved afterward and blamed the white people. Yes, there are injustices that go on there led by politicians like Hillary Clinton to exploit funding and so forth, but are they deserving of sympathy?
6/27 night
One thing that was mentioned, which is something found when the phenomenon of reuploading footage of the old beta showcases happened, was that Mother 3's design was intended to follow in the footsteps of Mother 2, with Belch being part of the main advertising, by being an experience that actually creates a sense of disgust, being attributed to all of the things happening. That's something I think they should have pursued even in the final game. Still, how would you do that on Gameboy Advance? It doesn't sound like you can.
Update
I should write it down in case I forget after today. What Larry Fink said about distancing himself - socially? - from ESG, notably his own damn creation - that comes at a direct coincidence with the fact that I just then had taken that stance on videogames if what Minecraft's new version just pulled was going to be across the board from now on in some swoop of agenda. In the back of my mind, I know something's up.
I've had pop-up news of George Soros with targeted expressions in these past years since summer 2021. That's why I don't think of these actors as independent anymore. Like gangstalking bugging that happens with people in person, there's no stimulation that would be causing these reactions as things play out in real time. It's thoughts being directly ported, in a way that's not even conscious to them.
Update
The way "pride" is presented in context with our modern world, you would think it is part and parcel of being a Christian in the classic Biblical sense, that the Sexual Revolution is just now reviving.
I've been thinking for the past day or so, if people in general have this manner of thinking, does it really matter that these particular agendas have been playing out? We've been of the mindset that the Sexual Revolution is 21st Century Christianity since the 21st century.
Where were you when you realized "pride", as an reminder of how far we've come, is an adage to this fact and this fact alone? "Always has been"
To liberals, that would seem obvious.
That *was* what they were saying, wasn't it?
6//27
The fact that the current state of public discussion is tolerated shows that it's been over for many, many years, let alone any Agenda 2030. We can't just get up and walk it back. For reasons that exist in the minds of modern contemporary people, it's justified or something. I don't know what they're talking about. I've never seen their arguments stand on their own, but they come from a different reality.
Thinking that has less to do with failure so much as the fact that this is just dealing with a very mediocre people.
And yet here they are, with their savior complex, when they continue to not know shit from Shinola
I just meant to say Republicans.
Well yeah, isn't that what everyone's thinking? Yeah!
Life doesn't have a meaning. We're just going to sit here and hog the podium belligerating Republicans, and being self-projecting in that respect
Every day sucks worse than the last, and that's because you can't get off your ugly ass. Yeah, that's right.
The last major shill post, which is where the Larry Fink story was introduced, was this bizarre low-quality post by a office shill worker posing as a Satanist insider where they took up what I said and was thinking about the military and said you can do nothing but go off and join their military, meaning if you so much as take up work, it's for them unequivocally.
This is what I mean with paranoia, the paranoia I have - it's not the literal subjective interpretation in and of itself but the actual inroads that are then going to be created, having used that as a greenlight and a stimulus, with new narratives across the board, because of me.
Update
From now on, let's just do the honest thing and have a segment of "you know you've lost when..."
When the most meaning you can get out of doing anything that doesn't directly translate into serving the tax farm complex is the equivalent of that psyop with Nazis smearing shit on the bathroom stalls
Update
We're trapped in one particular point in time. There's no getting out
Update
Well, you can say that when I act like liberals are of a different universe, that's not even valid because any of us could make any given argument and have it logically stand, and then declare "the time has come to be reasonable" and realize everyone else is in a different reality.
There are no gears intermeshing between white nationalists or whatever they're supposed to be called and the human population.
Literally, it was my *intended message* that got called out as "grifting", as merely a *proxy* message, for whatever severity it is in "*consensus* reality". Otherwise, the meme wouldn't have had the steam that it did to have initially happened.
So - why don't I understand - consensus reality?
Because it's fake, and up a man's ass.
Okay but by coming out with that real, you're doing pride's favor by denouncing Republicans, as is said bodily function. You act like that's a joke, but no, it's not
Update
The fact that people like Larry Fink make public statements shows that there is a significant enough amount of the population to eat up this bullshit.
Update
The United States is a broken people. I may have inherited this, but I'm not going to pick up the pieces. It's customary to just expect you people to by yourselves, when that's what's never going to happen. Why? Because you live in an alternate reality where everything is just through the TV hobby
I think the problem with that is I don't have anything better to do. Apparently the enjoyability of anything is actually contingent on a real world situation mirroring it, in some way or fashion. Now there isn't. I'm just going to sit here and eat ass.
You suck and are also gay
I don't know why I just thought of this, but Silent Hill 4 made a supposed big thing out of Walter Sullivan having his "mother" at the center of his secret universe. That never really pans out, but that happens to be the name of the final boss of Siren 2.
I remember Common Filth went to some length about the psychology of "mommy worship" - I don't *know*
Update
It seems like no matter what context you're in, if you're a white nationalist, all you have to do is come out saying just forget everything because I'm already despairing, and everyone will come out of the woodwork in unison and this hilarity that comes suspended in euphoric ecstasy over the stated facts that you're just now coming to grips with the conclusions everyone else's already made thousands of years ago, only just today, and now it shows, whatever they're making out of it that makes them act so much, like this.
In reality my state is more like the Family Guy episode name "If I'm Dyin', I'm Lyin'"
But in reality everyone is out of control. I don't know what to do with them
So that is true, I'm legitimately giving up
Reality is a consensus. You can augment it with any little motion of expression.
Life is boring.
The best argument for making this debacle of taking back the West spiritual and not simply racial is the angle Common Filth gave about how early Christians were almost always made up of peoples of multiple ethnicities. That works because that's granting that the early Christians would have actually adhered to the Biblical teachings against racemixing.
Is the real reason everyone bashes conservatives that it really does keep coming down to, we just need to kick out the niggers? "Oh, well what makes *you* so important?" Dumbasses
And of course they think by taking up that route I'm bashing *conservatives*, in their footsteps, like they can't envision logically anything else, and that stands - I'm literally like a fish out of water
And, then, that one song "Small D*ck" by Filthy Frank referencing the meme makes it sound like it's a warning to this when they say "their dicks are much bigger" - that's been disproven; in fact they're smaller. That can't be what it is they're getting so big talking about. They say, in the capacity of the liberals' "listen and believe" - so *not* listening - you have to "listen". "*Listen*"
That event that got the "Propertarian" movement to quietly break up where one of the leaders got confronted by a black activist and just pissed his pants - was that a psyop? There doesn't seem to be any organic reason for him to do that.
It's things like this - when something like Kyle Rittenhouse happens, it's like it's inevitable that something like his cucking out crying on live camera was going to autonomously happen. He crossed the line of, muh sacred *blacks*
My Internet locked up for a bit for this. Forget who's *advocating* for violence - things like Kyle Rittenhouse are what's *organic* - isolate the people getting all uppity - what makes them so special?
Update
In its current state, it's easy to just dismiss or distance Christian religion as a motivator. The racial issue is closer to what it is: calling a spade a spade.
Honestly, if religion pertains to this as a conflict, it would apply *to jews.* That is Biblical.
Update
Well, there's no disputing that with the industry in its current state, the remake of Silent Hill 2 was exclusively with defending the eternal metrosexual in mind, where MGS3 and anything else would just be icing on the cake *after* the fact. Anyone who disputes this is an invalid, says a liberal.
Update
I've never actually mentioned this angle on it before, even though I brought it up too much - Denzel Curry's "The Game" would apply to the way people who are still doing the stuff of Silent Hill 1 and 2 aren't actually up to speed with where the culture is at and are basically there to just be fetishizing.
Update
In reality, Silent Hill is supposed to be an intellectual series. That's why in Whitopia its status as liberal is undisputed.
Actually, that's where I actually understand where people are coming from blowing up, saying the Republicans *aren't intellectual!*
Yep, they just won. And I'm just going to sit there like a dumbass.
You have right-wingers doing "you'd think it's a typo with these red lines and periods", and then they just go off and keep grifting some more I guess
Yeah, that's right - these people who will just be blowing out the gates with "in the name of the Loard!!!" are stupid *idiots* - we have PTSD from doing with this
Basically, Silent Hill 2 nu-version will just be hand-having what the movement is - and they're going to *keep* doing it
Saying we just want to make sure - we just want to make sure
Right. We can't deal with these Christians anymore. We've had too many terror attacks.
Jeeze, we *literally cannot stop* these people from blowing through our gates saying "we want freedom! We want freedom!" Jesus Christ, do you even know what liberty means? Freedom and the pursuit of happiness! That's what open sexuality means
*Freedom of expression*
I don't know what this means, but I just know that this is what it feels like
Bottom line.
The Christians are going to destroy everything.
Honestly I don't think they're gonna do anythi- no.
Until we destroy the right-wingers, we'll never be free of our anxiety
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Too Tall Part Three
Part One Here
Part Two Here
...
tw: lots o' gore
Unai rubbed her palm in a tired circular motion against her forehead. As the skin tugged this way and that, she swore she felt wrinkles that hadn't been there three Reyalta-months ago.
"I can't remove the patrol from this level, Yeero. You know this. I've told you this. Multiple times. Now, I feel I have been more than accommodating. In response to your concerns, I have set up a 15 ebb radius in every direction of your booth along with strict instructions that my troops may not enter unless in dire need. What can possibly be the problem?"
The Thiel slammed down a half-eaten pompoya so hard the juices gushed out the pores in a steamy, pink puddle that immediately congealed into a thick, sticky goop on the counter edge. "You see this pompoya?" His double tongues drew each word taught and solid in the back of his mouth and then slung them out precisely where he wanted them to land. Today's target: Unai's dignity. "Very juicy, very big, very sweet to scent?"
"Very red," Unai said dryly.
The needles on Yeero's scalp shuffled with a thousand tiny clacks, and he smiled wide enough to show his jagged teeth, an unnatural expression from his kind, which meant he was purposely doing it for Unai. Whether it was to make his point clear or to ridicule her, she didn't know. "Oh, you enjoy color? Yes, blush does mention idea of perfect ripeness. Idea that cause fruit to be plucked from vine. All 400 of them, from personal vineyard that my family rents in BioCyl for 1500 allots every half year. A fee repaid easy because of prize seedless pompoyas. Yet, entire first bushel sold is returned with one complaint." His mouth screwed together as if to keep back bile before he pounded out the final ruling. "Sour!"
Unai let out a deep breath and wiped some of the man's saliva off her cheek. "Are you sure it wasn't a bad batch?"
Yeero's needles stood completely on end for that, and the barbs above his ears looked ready to shoot off and stab her. "Keist! Never a bad batch! Never!"
"Ok, ok, I'm sorry! I just don't get how my troops standing on this floor is hurting your merchandise."
"Ke'turians disgust. Dirty. Grime. Soogra. Toxins from blood seep out skin and turn fruits."
That didn't sound any more real than the last time he tried to explain it, but what was she supposed to say? That he was wrong? Maybe his lovely description of Ke'turian's bit her pride, but it wasn't like she knew for sure her troops weren't the cause of his sour fruit. And she was supposed to be helping this community, not making waves. Even so, it would be unsafe not to have at least a couple of her troops on Level 14.
Unai's communicator chirped, sending Yeero into a whole new spree of curses when she thumbed down the switch that slid back the laser shield panels and let the hologram manifest in the air in front of her.
Hayes appeared from the chest up, uniform neatly buttoned to the throat and a couple strands of warm, kinked hair escaping from his open-ended bun. Large, dark eyes swallowed her up like cavernous pits she'd never escape from.
"Commander," Unai greeted evenly.
"Captain Unai, there seems to be an issue in one of the patrol's latest reports. Would you mind meeting me in my office to discuss it more thoroughly?"
"The flesam turn all my fruits sour!" Yeero shouted over her shoulder. "Away! Stay away I say, and never listen! Keist! And now we stand and argue for twenty clicks, whole front supplies, gone."
"I have something to discuss with you too," Unai said, half-shouting to be heard over Yeero's complaints. The Thiel folded his arms in satisfaction.
It only took five clicks to get to Hayes's office, but it took her two more outside his door as she decided which way to twist her hair. No particular style had drawn his attention before, but you never knew. Small details could make a big difference, and today, she needed all the difference she could get.
Twists weren't working, so she quickly redid the end of her bubble ponytail and let it drop back against her spine. This was fine. Yeah, this was her, so if it wasn't fine he didn't matter.
With a deep breath, Unai pushed the office door's open button and strode inside. Hayes looked up from his touchpad and drank her in.
Oh, skynce, he mattered so much.
"Seems you were met with a commotion on Level 14, Captain?" Hayes said with a slight smirk.
"Apparently my species makes his fruit sour?" Unai said, stepping up to his desk. Despite its professional nature, it was short enough to remind her of the desks from her academy as a child. She towered over him for several seconds, until he waved her to sit, but even sunk into the deep, plush guest seat, the desk edge was nearly level with her hips.
"Have you tried negotiating?"
Unai's collar rose a couple centimeters off her neck, but she forced it back down flat. "Of course, I've negotiated. None of my people are allowed anywhere near his stand, and he still wants us booted off the entire level. I don't know, perhaps level 14 should be left to station security. They blend in better anyway. Less...less like monsters in tiny town."
"Hardly fair for the community members in awe of your troop's 'earnest concern and vigilant care.'"
Unai straightened up a bit in her seat. "They've said that?"
"A direct quote."
"On Level 14."
"Yes. Apparently, there's quite a group who wouldn't have functioning businesses without them." Hayes waited for the words to sink in before continuing. "You avoid Yeero for now. I'll leave a thorough investigation of his fruit problem up to my own people."
Unai nodded, relief washing over her. She hadn't wanted him to think her incompetent or that she wasn't taking this assignment seriously. With every snag Yeero presented, she'd worried about it getting back to Hayes that the Ke'turian captain was arrogantly substandard and a detriment to his station. Yet, he dealt with her problem so understandingly. In fact, now that she thought of it, he'd never been over-disciplinary with any of them. A fair, solid, commander that she could trust and respect.
"You said there was an issue with one of the reports?" Unai said, clearing her throat.
"In truth, a few reports," Hayes said, gnawing mildly on his thumb as his dominant hand tapped at the screen of his touchpad. "One of my security chiefs contacted me last night about his team being ignored. Further inquiry revealed that several patrol members, both mine and yours, were met with odd occurrences, people lingering in active infiltration areas, double patrols where there shouldn't have been any, glimpses of figures in parts of the station no one should have been in. Nothing solid, but definitely concerning.
"Each filed a report, but when I searched the system, the reports in question no longer included any information on these happenings. I talked to the report supervisor who usually flags down anything strange for me, but he didn't seem to have any knowledge of previous drafts. Now, I've worked with this man for a long time, so I believe him, but that means someone else has been infiltrating the program and altering reports before the reach station-official eyes."
"That is a problem," Unai said. "Is there anything in particular you want me to do?"
"Only to keep an eye out for now. Mention it to your troops and have them to contact you directly about anything else they find concerning. Perhaps asks them if they've noticed anyone odd in their time working with station security. Knowing you, you'll take care of it. Hopefully, I can rustle up a trap for the weasel."
"I will get on that directly, Commander. Is there anything else?"
Hayes shook his head stiffly. "You may return to your duties. Unless there is something else you'd like to comment."
There was, but it definitely didn't seem like the right time after hearing all of that. And yet, a part of her hated the idea of worrying all evening and morning about this moment and then walking away in silence. She might as well try.
"It's off topic and low priorirty, but I was thinking if you wanted, not that you have to, but maybe-- On a day I'm off duty, of course, and if you're not too busy-- It's just so nice in the BioCyl."
Hayes cocked one eyebrow high above the other. "Yes? I'm glad you've enjoyed it."
"Thank you! I have. I do! But that's not exactly--" Unai took a deep breath. "Ok. What I'm trying to ask is--"
Unai was cut off by the heart stopping blare of an alarm.
"Intruders!" Hayes exclaimed, jumping to his feet.
Unai shoved the fluff, exposed nerves, and every other irrelevant thought from her mind and dashed out of the office ahead of him. Warning lights in the ceilings bathed the entire hallway in red, and the space quickly came alive with station crew and civilians shoving and shouting in either direction. She ripped her communicator from the pouch on her belt and dove into a long string of mass orders. "I need everyone on high alert, right now. That means assembling your troops immediately. One through Thirty, your level assignment is the same as your troop number. Protecting civilians is your top priority. Thirty-One, you're in the landing bay. Thirty-Two, observatory."
"Captain!" Zale, Troop Leader One, called back, voice slightly muffled by the uproar in the background. "Have you spoken to Commander Hayes? Do you have any idea what we should prepare for?"
"I have eyes on Hayes now, but we're just as blind as you are. Does anyone else have a visual?"
Another voice crackled through the communicator so hushed and hampered with labored breaths that Unai couldn't make out who it belonged to.
"L-Level Twenty-Four. I have visual. They're-- They're Lasters."
Unai's breath froze halfway out of her lungs. Her eyes flicked down toward Hayes who stood at her side making his own orders. Voices came out of his communicator, but he didn't respond, body stiff and eyes staring ahead like blind glass.
On a the scale of worst predators, the species ranked in the top three, at least as far as Unai was concerned. Part of that came from their innate ability to outlast seemingly anything. No matter the brutality, no matter thoroughness--and a few thousand years ago, back before the Alliance forbade such things, people had been thorough--the monsters just popped back up again. Sometimes it was 10 years, sometimes it was 10 thousand years, but they were never gone. The history of their existence spanned across millennia further than any other species, thus the name. Lasters.
Unai shuddered. Yeah, a nasty tangle for anyone, but she could only imagine how it felt to belong to one of the planets they'd ravaged. Muna, Eelypso, Iunov, Droth, Caemia, Marvis, Bara-5...Earth. It didn't matter whether you were alive when it happened. A planet was a planet. A home was home.
Hayes swallowed, cleared his throat, and returned to giving instructions. If he was a little despondent while doing so, Unai caught it just barely. After a few moments, he snapped the communicator shut and looked up at her.
"Do your troops need you, Captain Unai?"
"Not at the start of a battle." She pounded her fist on her forearm. "I trained them strong."
"Then come with me, I could use cover."
"Where?" Unai asked, already following him and decreasing her running speed to a steady lope to remain even with his sprint down along the hall's right-side curve.
"Kitchen. Technician says the trigger alarm was there."
"Trigger alarm meaning that's where they started? How did they get there?"
"There's a small hatch that leads directly outside. When the kitchen doors are sealed, and permission has been given, it can be opened with a button in the mess hall. It's a safety measure in case of fire." Hayes swallowed through a heavy pant. "Nothing beats flames like the vacuum of space. I didn't even think about it being used as an entry. Because I'm stupid."
"It's not your fault," Unai said once they had a moment of pause inside the lift.
"Even so. It's my responsibility to stop it."
The lift doors whirred open to a much too quiet half floor. Level 15.5. Not an actual level, so no troops. She was stupid too. Or...
"Someone knew our weak spots," she murmured, stepping out into the dim room. The lights were always set to low here, but the relaxed area took on a whole new ambience with that red warning light illuminating scattered utensils, shredded booths, flipped tables, and smeared blood in regular flashes. The alarm didn't sound here. From the shredded metal and mess of colorful wires hanging out of the wall, it had been disconnected from the system.
"Mm," Hayes acknowledged, slowly drawing his energy gun.
Unai unshouldered her double pointed staff, heart pounding as she peered around the large room. There were some...remains, but nothing alive as far as she could tell. Hayes must have decided the same because he was already heading for the kitchen. The windows in the doors were too high for him, so he signaled her to look instead. White, sterile lights reflected off the colorful slicks of blood in aisle ways like spilt oil, and the countertops and sides were spattered with dripping blooms, but there were too many obstructions to get anything clearer. What she did know was the hatch wasn't open anymore. Another indication of inside help.
She nodded at Hayes where he hovered over the button. He cringed back against Unai's side as the seal hissed away and the door whooshed open, but he quickly recovered himself. He ventured in slowly, and she remained right at his heels. When they were nearly to kitchen's center, a loud, wet slurp stopped them in their tracks. Well, there went hopes of finding the kitchen empty.
They seemed to lean forward on their toes in unison, cranking their heads around the tall spice rack, her head high, his low, until they saw it.
The Laster was about as big as one of these great, jumbo refrigerators turned over on its side. It leaned over something bloody and wholly unidentifiable on four thick-clawed hands. Folds and folds of tough grey skin obscured its eyes as nothing but shining white pinpricks. A long black tongue like a corded rope wrapped around its meal, tearing off a chunk with an unsettling riiip and retracting it into its bloody maw. The pouch on its throat bulged large enough to drag on the floor, gorged with too much blood and flesh. Seeming to tire of the shredding process, the Laster's tongue wound around the thickest part of the disfigured body and began dragging it toward its mouth whole.
Hayes gripped the handle of his gun so hard it creaked, and his olive skin had gone pale as paper. Even so, his dark eyes were like live coals, smoldering with an intensity Unai had only seen in Ke'turians during the thick of battle. He edged forward a little farther, and taking several rapid, bolstering breaths through his nose, leapt out of hiding.
A feral scream ripped a hole in the eerie quiet, followed closely by the crackle and buzz of energy bolts charging up and firing. Each shot landed hard and merciless, charged not just to burn, but to kill.
The Laster jolted to alertness, it's crouching legs unfolding and rising it tall. Unai ran out at the same moment it launched toward Hayes, jamming her spear up into its chest. It screamed. Orange blood streamed down the pole, making her hands slick. Long claws slashed out at her, but she ducked in closer to the creature's chest, hands clinging right up to where the weapon was embedded. The claws missed her back, but hit the other end of her spear instead, splitting it in two.
Muscles shifted against Unai's clenched fists, signaling a second attempt, but she pushed off the Laster and sprung a couple steps out of reach, just before its tongue flicked out to where she once stood.
A pocket of static leftover from the gun lifted Unai's hair on end as she fell into a firm fighting stance. Hayes fell in beside her, seething violence through gritted teeth. The gun made a loud click as he snapped back the recharge cylinder. He rolled back his shoulders, aimed the barrel towards its eye, and-- And then he was gone.
He smacked the tile head first, barely left time for a groan before he was jerked toward the other end of the aisle. Unai whirled around, following the long slithering tongue from the second Laster's maw to where it wrapped Hayes's leg thigh to ankle. The creature gulped its tongue back rapidly, pulling the human out of Unai's protective range faster than she had thought possible.
She took two steps after him before the first Laster dropped on top of her. Unai twisted beneath it sinking her sharp nails into the spear wounds as far as they would go and then tearing the flesh back. She only broke free for enough time to snatch the other half of her broken spear then the Laster was back on top of her, this time roping its tongue tightly around her biceps to hold her still as it pulled her to the floor. Hot acidic saliva seared her top layer of skin, but she ignored it. Ke'turian flesh was tougher beneath, so despite the pain, this was nothing.
Somewhere behind her Hayes screeched and thrashed. What was happening?
Unai had always imagined what it would be like to save the one she loved from certain death. She'd played the scene over in her head almost daily as a youth, and semi-frequently as an adult. In that daydream, she stood before the attacker boldly, confident in her strength and ability to save her lover. Meanwhile, he stared upon her with hope and adoration because he also believed in her. More, he was impressed by her. She thrashed the foe easily, pulled her starry-eyed beloved into her arms, and they walked into the sunset. But reality was nothing like her fantasy.
Hayes would not stop screaming, and Unai didn't want him to. If he stopped screaming that meant he was dead. Panic squeezed her chest so tightly she feared her heart might shoot up her throat. As the Laster's hot breath steamed against her face, she flexed hard against her bands and tried to twist the half spear toward the roof of the creature's mouth, but she just couldn't wind up enough to actually strike. Perhaps this was the end.
But a Ke'turian did not falter.
She twisted her head around and sank her fangs into the Laster's tongue. Everything was pain and sour bile then only thick numbness as her taste buds burned away.
The Laster's tongue retracted like a tape measurer, and it stumbled back from her in shock. Unai immediately grabbed it by it's top arms and flipped it over onto its back, stabbing over and over until the monster went still.
Before she knew it, she was barreling the other direction, jumping over Hayes, where slipping fingers clung desperately to a counter corner, and grabbing the rough, sticky tongue in her fist. A vicious wrench snapped the muscle straight from the root. The Laster ducked its head into its arms bawling pathetically. Unai roared, collar rising to full height and portraiting her face as she leaned in and bore her bloodied fangs.
Hayes retrieved the gun, dragging his leg behind him to press the barrel straight into the Laster's skull and let off a massive, overcharged blast. The monster went limp and the two of them stood over it silently, breathing and breathing and breathing.
Unai glanced at Hayes's leg. It was hard to discern the full extent of the injury while it was coated in so many layers of blood, but the most obvious wounds were the deep, angry gashes striping the entire limb. Evidently, human flesh was much softer than a Ke'turian's. It wasn't one layer, not even two, but straight to the meat, destroying muscle and leaving much of the leg raw and exposed.
Hayes's radio chirped, and he pressed the income button mechanically.
"They're going!" an ecstatic voice crackled through. "They're retreating!"
They collapsed into the warm blood with a small splash, too tired to be disgusted. Unai's legs suddenly felt weak. A few seconds ago she could've kept going, but now she didn't even think she could stand. Warm breath blew out heavily against her neck, and a glance to the left revealed that Hayes was flopped across one of her outspread arms, his bun messy and loose and pulled to the side of his head. He must have been so injured and exhausted that he'd taken no care for where fell. At any other moment, Unai would have been thrilled, but right now, adrenaline flooded her brain with anxiety and attack strategies, refusing to let her enjoy anything.
"Thank you," Hayes gasped without opening his eyes. "Thank you."
Unai's chest heaved, and she tipped her head way back so the air could come in easier. Squeezing her eyes shut again the overhead lights, she half-heartedly slapped Hayes's arm. "Yeah."
Part Four Here
...
Well, that fight scene was the absolute worst, but I'm done looking at it, so I guess that's how it's gonna be haha. Maybe I'll go back and edit it someday. #would you like some violence with that fluff?
I listened to a good portion of the Loki, Dune, and Good Omens soundtracks while writing this, special shout out to "Gom Jabbar" and "My Path Leads Into the Desert" (Dune), "Despatch the Horsemen" (Good Omens), "Oshkosh, 1985" and "Glorious Purpose" (Loki) and "Square Escape" (No Time to Die) for being especially spot on with the vibes.
#alien x human#humans and aliens#humans are weird#fiction#writing snippet#creative writing#aliens#writblr#buff lady x little guy#humans are space orcs
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Part 2 of me slowly irritating the fandom to death with mediocre pencil sketches and world-building concepts!
A quick disclaimer: A lot of the stuff here is just me fleshing things out bc I love filling in small world-building holes. The base for the style guide was @soledadcatalina's post from several years ago (that I currently cannot link bc Tumblr hates me) but with a lot of additional stuff based on my personal concepts and various experience/people I've met who have done some versions of these things (not the fighting and killing stuff, just bits and bobs). Although I'm a bit of a clothing nerd and love both analyzing and constructing design elements for wardrobe I am not a professional. (Image ID at end of ramble below the cut)
Ok so in my quest to find any vital descriptors I re-read the first there books, then Silent Night, then the bonus chapters, and then Lockdown again. The clothing is described as grey in a few places but the cover of Solitary shows Alex's jumpsuit to have stripes, so I finally came to a compromise. The jumpsuits start out as black and white striped classics but the warden is cheap and so the ink is shitty, quickly blotting and fading and staining so the older jumpsuits are a greyish color. (This will be come relevant for bandanna section of this post, towards the end). The actual Furnace logo is something that a little extra effort was put into, possibly being embroidered into the fabric (tbh yes I think the warden would do something like that just to be an extra level of asshole). The material itself is also not the best kind, and can shrink if overheated for too long.
Each latest batch of inmates is given a brand 'new' jumpsuit with distinct stripes for their first day. After they go into the showers, their uniforms are now officially part of the prison-wide circulation. There's always a very slight surplus for the sake of laziness and mild convenience, but not enough so that popped can vandalize the torsos of the jumpsuits or smuggle a second one out. But that doesn't stop people from fucking up the legs and the sleeves.
So, as a general rule, sleeves are fucked with more than legs partially for safety reasons and partially because shorter than expected sleeve are less of a pain than being tall and dealing with pantlegs that fit like capris on you because some short assholes just have to make it all about them even though plenty of the jumpsuits have shrunk over time so you think they could just vandalize those instead. So there's a certain amount of jumpsuits around that will actually fit on shorter kids, with very few additions or removals due to the risk of getting beaten up for constantly fucking up the uniforms. A good way to tell a short old-timer from a new fish is that the old-timers will push and shove for the ripped-leg jumpsuits while the new fish will try to go for either the less worn out models (that don't fit in the slightest and have the stripes still) or the leftovers.
Aside from the ripped legs, the solution most short kids have is the roll the excess up somehow. On someone taller, the baggy look is an option but when the fabric is a foot longer than your legs, you gotta do something. New fish go for the very big and bulky cuffs that have to be rolled up like 7 times to let their feet touch the ground directly. More experienced kids tend to make stylistic cuffs. Maybe it's mis-matching the height to which the pantlegs are rolled to, maybe it's rolling one leg the usual way and rolling the other one inward, but the cuffs end up looking more stylistic than necessary, which adds to the overall look.
Moving up, we've got sleeves. Most are also too long, but are usually shorter than they started due to inmates instantly ripping small pieces off of the edge for toothbrushes, hair ties, or just boredom. The life cycle of the sleeve is 'Starting length', 'fraying at edges', 'loose t-shirt sleeve length', and 'sleeves torn off completely'. Most of the older jumpsuits are in the latter two phases. Sleeves are narrower than the legs by a slight margin. Again, despite the inevetable degrading of the material over time, the number of shorter-sleeved jumpsuits is relatively stable, although it does go up and down more frequently.
With these basics, you can start telling apart people's time spent in the prison, level of deference to the warden, their hierarchal status, and their odds of survival in encounters with the other inmates. Of course, some of the excess or completely worn out jumpsuits are stolen and scavenged or ripped apart and passed around for anyone who needs more fabric tan there is in a sleeve or who needs a big square/rectangle of material.
Finally, the part that I personally get excited about, bandanas, accessories, and miscellaneous usage!
Skull Bandanas: Canonically all surface items are confiscated and I have no doubt that includes the gang bandanas. On the surface they probably either buy them or use paint (depending on area and resources, etc) but neither of those are really an option within the Furnace itself. So, to make a proper Skull bandana: take an extra jumpsuit, cut out a decently sized square, bleach out a rough circle in laundry (put some extra focus on the black stripes to make it look more natural), either burn the fabric at laundry /kitchen or get soot/the blackest dust available in the chipping and turn the white stripes surrounding the Skull black this way, and then use the same process for rough eyeholes. More detail-oriented members can heat up shanks/small pieces of metal and also add on rough teeth and holes in the nose area.
The finished product is a roughly black square with a roughly white skull in the center, to be worn only by the Skulls. Atempts to mimic the design to blend in don't work as the Skulls are relatively selective. Most of the bandanas were made within the first month (using just striped squares for the first part) and to get one now usually requires ousting a previous member unless Ambrose makes an exception (made twice within the span of five years).
Fifty-Niner Stripes: Usually made with the a mixture of dust and dirt from chipping. Some of the more unhinged members had tattoos from the surface but nowadays it's mostly dust/soot used as paint (can be stored in some extra rags and mixed with some of the chemicals in the laundry).
Leopard marks: These are established as cigarette burns on the surface and shiv-made holes in gen pop but I do think someone suggested 'hey what if we just use dust like the others' and promptly got shanked for it.
Accessories: So that sounds a bit weird, but allow me to explain. Strips roughly the length of sleeve's circumference can become improvised hair-ties, good for anyone who can't/won't see a slicer and anyone with long hair, which I imagine isn't too small of a population. Longer and thicker strips of cloth wrap around feet to act as (shitty) improvised socks. And even though wearing a bandana even remotely similar to the ones the Skulls use will get you killed, plenty of inmates make a similar version (sometimes just a long and wide rectangle) to act as durags or very basic headbands to keep sweat out of their brows during hard labor. Unlike the Skull ones, these tend to be either striped or faded grey.
Miscellaneous: Obvious, but the the sleeves and pantlegs frequently act as bandages since no one wants to go to the infirmary. There's also the pre-emptive use as a basic form of wrist/ankle tapes and a shitty version of a boxing glove by wrapping cloth around the hand. Shorter strips wind around shanks to make handles. Scraps and useless pieces of the jumpsuits quickly add up and some clever people figure out that they can sweep up all the pieces, shove them into the pillow case or under the sheets and get slightly better sleep.
[Image ID:
Two pictures of black and white pencil sketches on paper. The first shows four generic inmates dressed in the Furnace jumpsuits lined up and facing the camera. Aside from one with black stripes on his cheeks and one with a bruise on his face, they have no facial features. The focus is on the uniforms and their distinctions. The second page has more small notes about Skull bandanas.
Inmate Uniform Notes (going right to left for inmates, head to toe for notes):
On the first kid, who is dressed in a striped Furnace jumpsuit zipped up all the way with baggy sleeves and extremely rolled up-cuffs the notes are: "Surface hair" (referring to clean and neat haircut), "Zipped up", "New uniform, bolder stripes", "bulky sleeves covering hands", and "very rolled up legs".
The second kid, who has messy long hair and a partially unzipped jumpsuit with faded stripes, baggy but uncuffed legs, and ripped up sleeves (down to wrists), has the notes: "Can't/won't see the slicers", "mostly faded stripes", "worn/torn sleeves", and "baggy legs, maybe a little rolled".
The third kid is significantly taller, with hair in a slightly neater cut pushed back and two stripes on his face, marking him as a Fifty-Niner. He is holding something in his right hand and there are bandages wrapped around his left fist. His jumpsuit is completely faded and partially unzipped, with the sleeves ripped off and the legs fitting almost perfectly, if a little big, and he has the notes: "better cut since in a gang" (hair), "coal/dust lines" (gang markings), "arms completely torn off", "stretched and worn out after years" (in reference to whole jumpsuit), " 'bandages' made of ripped sleeves" (fist), "stripes fully gone", and "excess bit [of pant leg] tucked under".
The fourth and final kid is shorter than the first three, with closely cropped scruffy hair, a bruise on his left cheek, and cloth wrapped around his right wrist. His jumpsuit is zipped all the way up, the sleeves are rolled to the elbows, and the legs are mismatched, with the right ripped short and the left cuffed. The notes around him read: "scruffy cut (wounds hidden)", "Zipped up but other details make this a fashion choice", "fading stripes", "casual sleeves", "improvised brace for wrist", "shrunk from overheating" (referring to the uniform fitting him despite him being smaller than average), "mismatched legs" (one ripped, one rolled up), and "stylistic cuff" (referring to rolled up leg).
Skull Bandanna Notes (and misc) (going roughly right to left, top to bottom):
Bottom right corner shows two small hair ties, one made of just one scrap, and one with a second scrap twining around, mimicking an elastic hair tie. Above, in the main square, are two versions of the unfolded Skull bandanas, roughly square-ish with the Skulls having circular eye sockets, small slants at the nose, and vague outlines of teeth. The top version is more detailed and the bottom is more likely to be what was worn in gen pop.
Across the top are three rough sketches of inmates wearing the bandanas. One is wearing his to cover his scalp, with the skull front and center. A small note on his points out the grey area in the middle, cutting through the black and white, reading "stripes faded but not gone". The one in the middle has his bandana tied around his neck and is looking up. The last boy wears it around his forehead, still leaving the top of the head uncovered as he glares down.
At the bottom of the page there is a simple sketch of part of a jumpsuit, with the stripes and a note "bleached out with time". The picture next to it shows a rough square (the starter for a Skull bandana) with visible stripes. A note to the black stripe reads "bleach (laundry)" and the one to the white stripe says "burn or cover in black dust (laundry/chipping when guard is distracted)".
Between the boys wearing their bandanas and the starter sample are small pictures of a few shanks and sketch of a Fifty-Niner in profile, glaring to the side. A note points to the mark on his cheek, reading "soot".
End ID]
#man did this get long#escape from furnace#eff this#eff#worldbuilding#style guide#the skulls (eff)#fifty-niners (eff)#leopards (eff)#yes I'm over tagging#accessible fanart#I have so many more thoughts honestly#the world-building I do for my hperfixations#*le tired voice* zee drawings#updated art tag for now ig
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Tagged by the awesome @romirola @fuzzy-melonlord and @batch-of-pengwings I love reading your posts!
Rules: Tag 9 people you want to catch up with or get to know better
Favorite Color: Black! (my hair is naturally black but I dyed the inside of it pink)
Last Song: Move by Santana, Rob Thomas and American Authors
Currently Reading: Munro by Kresley Cole (I've been reading the 'Immortals After Dark' series for years now but the latest book kinda disappoint me so I stop reading halfway)
Last Movie: Promare (love the colours in that movie!)
Sweet, savory, or spicy: Savoury for sure
Currently Working On: A sexy Darling/Sam oneshot, trying to finish the time-travelling Wolf Bois fic and an angst with no happy ending fic for Darling. I hope I'm not being too over ambitious here...
Tagging @venomousaberration @veneli @halo-arcane26 @moonandstarlightsposts @unhappyriver @myanettes @dolls-circus @xiaoyuyunism @lovelylonerliterature and others if ya'll wanna do!
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25 Days of FicMas
December 4th prompt: Ugly Sweater
Word Count: 1,146
John Kennex X Reader
Too Lit To Quit
I so procrastinated today! So sorry! Please put on your ugly sweaters and enjoy the fic! 🤙
-H ❤🖖
John Kennex scowled at Captain Maldanado before sighing admitting his defeat, “I don’t even know why the PD is doing this,” he muttered running a hand through his hair. The Captain smiled, her eyes danced with amusement, “The PD is doing this to boost morale, if Detective Paul is doing it, you can do it,” she said tapping her stylus against the dark wood of her desk. Kennex rolled his eyes, “Paul would bark if you ordered him too,” he muttered. The Captain sighed again, “dismissed John,” she waved her hand in a ‘shooing’ motion. Kennex huffed and exited the office his right eye twitching in pure irritation; Paul could be seen standing in the bullpen laughing openly. Kennex swiftly flipped him off as he walked past, “I take it you can’t bow out of the party, huh?” a sweet voice said from behind him. Turning he saw you leaning against the door that leads into the interrogation room, John wrinkled his nose “Maldanado said there would be an extreme punishment,” he grumbled. He could just not show up but he’d rather not risk it when it came to the woman. You chuckled nodding in understanding, "Well I guess I'll see you there," you winked and entered the interrogation room that held a very big suspect. "Now Frankie, about that shipment of the Benz," your voice trailed off as the door swung shut behind you. Kennex smirked as he watched you through the glass wall, the man "Big Frankie" leaned back in his seat when you moved in closer slamming a few crime scene pictures on the table.
"Starting to get weird, John." Kennex turned to see Dorian standing behind him with his arms crossed over his chest. John rolled his eyes, "I'm not being weird," he said grabbing his coat. Dorian raised an eyebrow eye flickering to the now frosted glass of the investigation room. "Shut up," Kennex grumbled leading the way out of the bullpen to the exit. Back in the investigation room, you watched as the big man in front of you break down. 'The bigger they are I guess,' you thought with a sigh. Pulling out the chair across from Frankie you gently nudged the pictures of the victims of the latest batch of the Benz; "I didn't know they were going to die! I -I just sold-" the man sobbed head in his hands. Leaning back you crossed your legs, waiting patiently, "My momma is rolling in her grave," Frankie sniffed and held onto the cross around his neck. You pulled a small packet of tissues from your pocket and slid them across the table. Frankie plucked on from the top and blew his nose loudly. You looked at him without judgment, eyes softening slightly. "Come on Frankie, tell me what I want to know and we can make a deal with the DA," you offered, tone soft. The big man nodded, "Yeah, yeah." He whispered.
A solid hour and half later you walked out of interrogation with Frankie cuffed beside you. "I will take him to holding detective," your MX said emotionlessly. Nodding you patted your new CI on the shoulder. "Thank you for the second chance detective. I won't let you down!" Frankie said, sounding determined. Smirking you waved as he was taken away and nodded at the DA who winked at you flirtatiously. Rolling your eyes you left to go get ready for the Christmas party.
^^^^^^^^^^^
Kennex grumbled to himself as he worked on the sweater he was supposed to wear to the stupid Christmas party. Both Dorian and Rudy watched from the side their own sweaters equally dreadful. "John, I don't think that's what the Captain meant…" Dorian tried but was shrugged off as Kennex ripped off another piece of duct tape. After slapping that into place John stepped back to examine his work. Nodding in approval he pulled the sweater carefully over his head and turned to face his observers. Rudy cocked his head to the side at a loss for words and Dorian simply sighed and shook his head. "I don't think duct taping a mirror to a sweatshirt counts John," he muttered exasperatedly. Kennex didn't dignify him with a comeback and simply left to, "Get this fucking thing over with,"
The party was in full swing by the time you got there, the bullpen was relatively decorated, and your coworkers were milling around talking, drinking, and laughing at the assortment of sweaters. You glanced down at your own and smirked, it was too funny not to buy. Lights covered you and the words "Too Lit To Quit," was written in big letters down your torso. A snort of laughter sounded from behind you, turning you saw Dorian there with his hands on his hips. He laughed even harder when he read what your sweater said. You looked at his and grinned, a toe shooting through the air with fire engulfing it. "A Missle...toe that's funny," you complimented with applause. Dorian grinned proudly and moved to give you a hug, laughing you hugged him back fiercely. "Merry Christmas Dorian," you whispered as you pulled back upon seeing Rudy walk over with two drinks in his hands. With an arm still wrapped around your favorite DRN, you looked around, "where's John?' You asked, accepting the drink Rudy handed to you. " He's actually showing off the sweater he...uh made," Rudy said snorting into his glass.
You broke off from Dorian smirking, "oh this is something I gotta see. I'll be right back!" You giggled and practically danced through the crowd making sure to not drop your drink. Instead of looking, you listened, it was easy to pick John out in a crowd that way. You smiled when you heard, "oh fuck you Kennex," moving towards the salty insults you finally managed to spot him. By the Captain's office, you saw Paul glaring at John. Striding over you hip-checked John lightly in greeting, "Sorry but I gotta steal him," you said, grabbing Kennex by the arm and steering him away from the angry man. Looking down at his sweater you burst out laughing, "That's cute," you sighed after your fit. John grinned playing with the blinking lights of your sweater. "Yeah but I have a rule about this sweater," he said, stopping you both before you reached Dorian and Rudy. You crossed your arms, tilting your head to the side. "What's that?" You asked with a raised eyebrow. John covered the mirror, "You're not allowed to look in the mirror," he took your drink and downed it in one go. Grumbling you snatched back the empty cup, "and why not?"
John walked off toward the exit, "cause you're too beautiful darlin', " he called leaving you in stunned silence. "Did he just drop that on me and leave?" You muttered before angrily jogging after him.
Tags:
@thottiewithashotgun
@writerdee1701
@lauraaan182
@dw-writes
@marvelouslytrekking
@spenceneedsahug
#almost human#john kennex x reader#john kennex#Dorian#reader insert#25 days of ficmas#Hailey the queen of typos
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