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aquaquadrant · 11 months

Note

Why do I feel like Etho and Patho would actually really get along well. Like there'd be a minute of "oh shit" then they'd be making some weird machine together.

Also any chance you would be willing to share the story about Patho's clock and maybe info on Hels Bdubs?

(honestly? true. patho isn’t bothered enough w the concept of being a doppelgänger so he’d be chill w etho if etho was chill with him. and etho’s like. always chill. anyway idk if this’ll answer ur questions but here’s uhhhh something)

~*~

patho pauses at the top of the netherrack hill, boots hissing briefly as he shifts off a magma block.

xyz: -12,485.167 / 67.09835 / 253,295.942

the coordinates ever-present within his field of view tell him he should be another hundred or so blocks away in the z axis, but he can already see the jungle’s grown since his last visit. it’s been slowly overtaking the neighboring nether waste biome for a couple decades, now. rate of growth has held constant, unchanging. that's something, at least.

patho slowly scans the horizon. words and numbers flash across the left half of his vision as his cybernetic eye rapidly processes new information based on visual input: netherrack, netherrack, crimson nylium, grass, jungle wood, jungle wood, jungle leaves, weeping vine. light level 3, 3, 3, 2, 1, 2, 3, 4. there's a lava pool eleven blocks over in the x axis; light level 15.

he starts walking again.

153 fps t: inf fancy-clouds b: 15x15 3 tx 3 rx c: 695/41672 (s) d: 16, pc: 000, pu: 00, ab: 42 e: 23/109, b: 0, sd: 9 p: 18 t: 109 error fc:0 xyz: -12,487.331 / 65.21091 / 253,375.987 block: -12,487 65 253,375 chunk: -780 15 7,835 facing: south (towards positive z)(1.5/5) client light: 5 (0 sky, 5 block) biome: error:nether waste local difficulty: 6.75//0.00 (day error404 not found) sounds: 5/247 + 0/8

the data shifts with every step. he's learned to tune most of it out by now, only paying attention to the biome indicator as he crosses the chunk threshold.

biome: error:crimson jungle

particles and sounds immediately jump up a couple degrees. glowing red specks dance slowly in the air, mingling with the ambient noises; hoglins rooting around in the brush, parrots calling unseen from the canopy above, lava bubbling in a pool nearby.

p: 35 sounds: 23/247

the temperature is warmer here. patho shrugs off his jacket, letting it hang at his elbows as he picks his way through the jungle. he doesn't even need to think about where he's going, coordinates left ignored at the edge of his vision. he's taken this path many times before, and he never has to wander very long.

his boots crunch softly on the nylium and grass terrain. jungle leaves and crimson fungus alike brush at his shoulders as he ducks underneath branches, taking care not to get tangled in weeping vines.

this is his favorite jungle. it's not the only crimson jungle he's ever come across- not to mention the warped jungles- but out of all the biomes he's seen, it's the one with the greenest leaves. something about this jungle sustains the normal trees just as well as it does the fungi, allowing the grass and leaves to stay bright and full instead growing in wilted and brown. it makes a lovely contrast with the blood red fungi.

not for the first time, he's thankful that the jungle is far enough away from spawn to be left alone. if other players knew about this place, with its well-sustained passive mob spawning and greenery, they'd destroy it for resources for sure. but he never worries too much about that possibility, because no mob or player sets foot in this jungle without permission from-

a weeping vine suddenly sprouts from the ground and lashes around patho's leg.

it's quickly joined by several more, snaking out from the undergrowth to wrap around his other limbs. before he can blink, he's lifted off the ground and pulled up into the trees. he doesn't struggle, doesn't panic- this is nothing new to him. the vines string him up among the highest branches, where a familiar figure is crouched in front of him, nothing but a pair of glowing red eyes beneath a heap of moss.

<player>dat -7063fdce-39ac-4a12-d836-a990c45b2bb0

"hey, dbubs," patho says casually.

the figure straightens up, hood falling back to reveal his face. his huge red eyes are sparkling with excitement, despite the dark circles lining them, and his mouth falls open in a wide, sharp-toothed grin. vines of varying shapes and sizes curl lazily around his body, small tendrils sprouting from the mossy cloak he wears. a couple veins of red discolor his skin, crawling up his neck and across his face. his messy hair is a bit whiter than the last time patho saw him, tinged red at the roots. a clock hangs around his neck, to match the one hanging from patho's hip.

"patho!" dbubs practically shouts, throwing his arms out.

sounds: 24/247

before dbubs can say anything else, patho asks his usual question. “what’s your name?”

“what’s my-” dbubs blinks, works his jaw for a second. “GODSLAYER666,” he proclaims loudly, puffing his chest out. then he pauses, frowns. “wait, no, i- i don’t know why i just said that. uh…”

it’s somewhere in the middle, then. not as bad as his worst days- at least he’s aware he’s lying, even if he has no control over it. and patho has to admit, that's one of the most entertaining responses dbubs has ever given to his little test.

"uh huh." patho shifts in the web of vines. they're holding a bit tighter than normal. of course, he could still easily break out of them. if he wanted to. "did you miss me, dbubs?" he asks instead, his voice teasing.

dbubs throws his head back to let out a sharp laugh, sending a shower of red particles fluttering through the air. "what?" he demands incredulously, his eyes blown wide. "miss you? i d- eugh, n'you stupid- i- i didn't even notice you were gone!"

patho hums with amusement. "then you don't wanna, like, kiss me or anything?"

"no," dbubs insists stubbornly, even as he comes closer. he steps boldly into patho's space, hands coming up to grab his face. "no, no of course not, i don't..." his long eyelashes flutter as he looks patho up and down. he smells like moss; like old vegetation and decay. there's soil and dried blood caked under his fingernails. "why would i- you ha- you have a lotta nerve..." dbubs tugs at the left strap of patho's mask, tilting his head. "do i- uh, do i get to see ya?" he asks, expression suddenly eager.

"yeah," patho chuckles.

dbubs grins widely, pulling patho's mask down. for a moment, he just looks at him. his calloused hand scuffs along the metal parts of patho's face- the entire ramus of his left mandible and most of his cheekbone, lost in the explosion that took his eye. the remaining skin is rough with scar tissue. dbubs strokes his thumb along that, too.

"i lo- um, i- i hate your stupid face," dbubs mumbles before he finally kisses patho. he seems to process his words a second later, breaking away with a small gasp of "oh! i d-", but patho simply leans in again, reclaiming his lips.

he knows what dbubs meant.

~*~

dbubs spares patho the trouble of walking, simply having the vines carry him to the hideaway. it's a difficult base to categorize: part tree house, part nest, part garden. in some places the floor is made of wood- in others, just a thick layer of leaves. there are potted plants and hanging vines everywhere, interspersed among stacks of barrels and moldy bookcases. little red mushrooms sprout from walls made of thatch and tree trunks. a couple of shroomlights provide gentle lighting as glittery particles drift through the open air; red, from the biome itself, and green from the spore blossom that patho brought him last year.

the vines unceremoniously drop patho onto the makeshift bed- a mat of moss and old, shredded banners. he's barely gotten settled, pulling his mask up and pulling his jacket off, before dbubs flops onto him with a heavy wuff.

"so!" dbubs starts loudly, propping his elbows up on patho's stomach. "what brings ya to see ol' dbubs today, huh?"

patho huffs a laugh. "what, i can't just stop by to say hi?"

"oh sure, okay." dbubs rolls his eyes, one of his vines flicking through the air dismissively. "you j- yeah, okay, be all secretive, then! see if i care." his haughty demeanor doesn't last long, though, as he shimmies up a little further, arms folded on patho's chest. "d'you- uh, do you wanna hear what i've been doin'?"

patho sighs good-naturedly, shifting so he can tuck his arms behind his head and lean back against the wall. "alright, go ahead."

dbubs beams at him and immediately starts telling lies. he tells patho about all the amazing things he's built (the jungle looks the same), all the incredible battles he's fought (no one's entered the jungle in years), all the wonderful places he's gone (he can't leave the jungle).

but patho doesn't mind that it's all lies. he's content to listen anyways.

they carry on like this until dbubs suddenly pauses, scrambling for his clock. "uh oh! gotta schreep."

patho glances at his own clock; dbubs is right on time, as always. that's one thing he never lies about. "okay, okay," he says, pushing dbubs off- he hits the moss with a soft thump. "lemme get my anchor."

"well, hurry up already!" dbubs shouts impatiently, vines swatting at patho's arm as he pops down his ender chest.

after placing the anchor and setting his spawn, patho reaches up and presses his finger directly into the center of his left eye, shutting it off.

he doesn’t regret putting a data processor into his cybernetic eye; the information it’s given him is invaluable. but every now and then, he needs a break from it. even when his eyes are closed, the display is still active, showing blank values on the back of his eyelid. turning the eye off is the only way to make it go away- of course, at the price of half his vision. so he only does it if he’s sleeping somewhere fully secure, and if he’s alone.

the jungle is an exception. dbubs has full domain out here- no mob or player can come close to his home without him allowing it.

"finally," dbubs huffs as patho settles back down. he's quick to cling with both his arms and assorted vines.

patho can't help but chuckle. "what's that you said about not missing me?"

"oh, shut up!"

~*~

patho abruptly reenters consciousness, emerging from a deep, dreamless sleep. with a soft groan, he fumbles to turn on his cybernetic eye, wincing at the sudden influx of data.

149 fps t: inf fancy-clouds b: 15x15 3 tx 3 rx c: 695/41672 (s) d: 16, pc: 000, pu: 00, ab: 42 e: 1/109, b: 0, sd: 9 p: 52 t: 109 error fc:0 xyz: -12,587.412 / 96.77253 / 253,401.623 block: -12,587 96 253,401 chunk: -783 15 7,845 facing: north (towards negative z)(1.5/5) client light: 7 (0 sky, 7 block) biome: error:crimson jungle local difficulty: 6.75//0.00 (day error404 not found) sounds: 27/247 + 0/8

"goooood morning!" dbubs calls, over on the other side of the little nook. he's busy rummaging through barrels, perhaps trying to find some breakfast. it’s unlikely he has any food stored; when he’s hungry, he hunts, and the jungle always provides.

"mornin'," patho says, rubbing his face. he sits up- and then pauses. there are weeping vines wrapped tightly around his legs. he sighs. “dbubs, you’re doing it again.”

“what?" dbubs manages to sound surprised. "no! no, i’m not, i’m- i’m just over here, minding my own business, crafting a loom.”

“a loom,” patho repeats flatly.

“yes! for um, for banners.”

“do you even have any wool?”

“do i ha- uh, of course! yes, of course i do.”

“can i see it?”

“no. no, i- i just ate it, actually. um-”

“you ate it?”

“yeah. sorry.”

patho sighs again. he kicks the weeping vines away. "i uh, i didn't mean to be gone for so long," he says, rising to his feet. "but, you know, i- i got held up with a job."

"a job?" dbubs glances over his shoulder at patho, squinting. "what kinda job?"

patho stretches his arms above his head, hearing both his natural and mechanical shoulder joints pop. "some guys out west are tryin' to make a portal out of hels."

"a portal?" dbubs's mouth falls open. "oh, for goodness sakes- and you call me a liar!"

patho knows better than to take offense. "it's true. they've got a player who came here from another world."

"uh huh." dbubs scoffs, but he can't quite hide the anxious shimmer in his eyes. "yeah, yeah, sure... so- i mean, did you do it, then? make them a portal?"

"basically." patho shrugs. "i uh, i told them everything they needed to know, to make one."

"right. you told th- okay." dbubs nods, bites his lip. "um- you didn't stay? to see the portal? or, uh…”

patho chuckles, crossing the distance to put his arms around dbubs's waist. "nah. i mean, come on, you know me, dbubs. i'm a- i'm a hels player, through and through. what's the rest of the universe got that's better than this place, right?"

dbubs grins at that, slotting his arms through patho's. "oh, you- you're such an idiot! y'know, i uh, i've been outside'a hels before and i- um, let me tell ya, you're missing out!"

"mhmm." patho smiles even though his mask is on. he knows dbubs can tell.

"yeah! "dbubs nods vigorously. "and, uh, there's- i got a whole world that's just mine!"

"is that right?" patho rests his chin on the top of dbubs's head. "tell me about it."

"it's a beautiful world, of course. my perfect builds, i ha-"

"of course."

"- uh, hey! quit interruptin'!"

"sorry, sorry."

"i di- thank you. so i um, i built a big ol' crastle, with a- hyeugh, a sorta um, horse course... y'know, with th- with the fastest horses anyone ever saw, one-stick horses, and- and uh, everyone was really impressed…”

this won’t last forever. it’ll only be a matter of weeks, months if they’re lucky, before patho won’t be able to ignore the itch to wander again. before the comfort and familiarity of the jungle becomes unbearable. before dbubs grows so used to his presence that the jungle itself tries to overtake him, the way it has dbubs- vines and veins of red.

he’ll leave without warning in the middle of the night, while dbubs is sleeping, because trying to leave while dbubs is awake never ends well. he’ll leave without a word and try not to think about the frantic whispers he knows dbubs sends him on lonely nights, despite knowing patho will never receive them (it’s the only time he regrets fusing his communicator with his arm- but how was he supposed to know he’d hear it in his mind? how was he supposed to know that disabling the chat was the only way not to lose himself completely to the endless flood of data?)

he’ll stay away long enough for dbubs to shatter apart, losing himself to the wildness of the jungle, and come back together. he’ll wait until dbubs has recovered from his grief, so that the next time dbubs sees him there will only be joy. because no matter how many times patho hurts him, dbubs always forgets it eventually.

“… so, you see, ol’ dbubs been workin' on a new technique, using the uh. grade- uh, gradient? block palettes... to create depth. ah hah! so- so listen, now, to teacher! it all starts with the color scheme..."

this won’t last forever. so for now, patho closes his eyes and listens.

error fps t: b: tx rx c: (s) d: , pc: , pu: , ab: e: , b: , sd: p: t: error fc: xyz: / / block: chunk: facing: ( )( / ) client light: ( sky, block) biome: error: local difficulty: // (day error404 not found) sounds: 1/247 + 0/8

~*~

#hels to pay au #HTP fic #hels hermits #hermitshipping #ethubs #<- i mean SORTA #pathbubs #in case it’s not clear patho’s mech eye basically acts like a debug screen #like when you press F3 in mc to see a bunch of data and stats #he can always see that info. prob less cluttered tho bc there aren’t any computer specs for him to look at LOL #anyway don’t look too much into the data values i was pulling them out of my ass #except for dbubs player data. DO look into that :3 #ALSO ty everyone for the asks i’ll get to em soon #my writing

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disco-elysium-via-polls · 3 months

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"We should hit one of those flaming tubes sometime."

KIM KITSURAGI - "How about we 'hit' the crime we came here for instead. And by 'hit' I mean 'solve' it. Solve it *hard*."

"Besides, those days are long behind me."

2. "You know I have to take this to Internal Affairs, don't you, lieutenant?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "Of course. Here's my gun and my badge." His hands reach out empty. "They'll put me in the chaise for this, but it feels good to have it off my chest."

"You're serious right now?"

"Very funny, lieutenant."

"Let's move on. This has been enough of a detour."

"You brought this on yourself."

KIM KITSURAGI - "All I ask is the chance to close this final case so I can go to the chaise with a clean conscience." His voice is filled with mock pathos. "Let's hurry, I'm living on borrowed time."

Ok, let's cut directly to the chase.

TITUS HARDIE - "It's you again..." He acknowledges you gruffly. "What is it?"

4. "Klaasje says she wasn't raped."

TITUS HARDIE - "Fuck!" The big man's eyes and veins bulge. "I knew that fucking whore couldn't be trusted!"

Task complete: Speak to the assault victim

+10 XP

SUGGESTION [Easy: Success] - You've hit a nerve. Titus is furious -- no, more than that -- the loyal Titus feels *betrayed*.

ELIZABETH - "For the record..." she steps in, forcefully. "Titus Hardie did not explicitly specify the *victim* as a whore. Nor did he say anything about trusting her."

TITUS HARDIE - "Oh, shut up and stay out of this, Liz!" He turns back to you. "He raped her. He was out of his fucking mind. You have no idea!"

ALAIN - "She's just in denial, asshole. You don't understand the *traumatic experience*. She's shutting down. And she doesn't fucking trust you."

SHANKY - "Yes, she's crazy, you know," the rat-faced man says carefully. "A crazy-bitch -- you know the type. She's fucked up."

"Crazy? What are you talking about? She was very lucid."

"I did think that, yes -- that she's a *little* crazy…"

"Cut the bullshit. She told me the truth."

KIM KITSURAGI - "She wasn't raped." The lieutenant's voice is beginning to betray his agitation. "The witness' statements were very clear."

TITUS HARDIE - "Lawman..." he says through clenched teeth. "... I am at the end of my *goddamn* rope with you. I fucking told you not to push her!"

"And you went and pushed her." Something breaks in him. He takes a step closer and says: "I am going to… fucking…"

ELIZABETH - "TITUS HARDIE!" Her voice rings through the room like a warning shot.

AUTHORITY [Easy: Success] - Success. Titus backs off. Fists down, everybody.

ELIZABETH - "Evrart *personally* sent me to take care of this. If this goes south we'll all be in the shit -- but you, Titus Hardie, are going to be buried. Am I understood?"

PERCEPTION (HEARING) [Medium: Success] - The room is so quiet you could hear a pin drop. The rest of the cafeteria has gone quiet too.

SUGGESTION [Trivial: Success] - Someone has to rush in to break the tension. The second in command.

ALAIN - "Look, copper." The tattooed man snaps his fingers to get your attention. "We know the dead fuck was a rapist and a killer. We got him confessing to it on tape."

"Show it to him, T." He turns to Titus, who's still breathing heavily. "What's the harm, right?"

TITUS HARDIE - "Here, jerkwad!" He slams an audiotape on the table. "Listen to this shit, and then come back and tell me the *Soldier of the Apocalypse* was an innocent man."

LOGIC [Medium: Success] - This is their last play -- this tape. Their story is in tatters, a mess. It might be nice to listen to -- but at this point, you don't need to.

"Why should I care about the tape? You lied to me."

"So what's on this tape?"

"Where did you get this tape?"

"Where can I listen to this?"

"That's enough for now. I'll get back to the investigation." (Conclude.)

TITUS HARDIE - "You don't care about *evidence*?" His eye twitches. "The fuck are you a cop for then?"

ALAIN - "Pigs, T -- they don't care about getting the truth, they care about getting convictions. They're fucking keeping score on their bulletin boards."

TITUS HARDIE - "I won't be on your bulletin board. If you don't listen to the tape we got *nothing* to talk about."

2. "So what's on this tape?"

TITUS HARDIE - "What's on it? We call it the Doorgunner Megamix. You'll know why, once you listen to it."

3. "Where did you get this tape?"

TITUS HARDIE - "You think we go into this shit deaf and dumb? You RCM aren't the only ones who know how to bug people -- there's no university degree for that."

"So you've bugged them? How?"

TITUS HARDIE - "We have machines." He nods. "We're in logistics -- how do you think a harbour works? It's advanced stuff."

KIM KITSURAGI - "Understood -- you've listened in on their communications." He takes a little note. "How long?"

TITUS HARDIE - "Since way before their chief started taking swing lessons."

SHANKY - "Things got nice and quiet after that."

"Which one of you is doing this advanced radio work then?"

"I think I get the picture."

FAT ANGUS - "It's not advanced," the heavy man wheezes. "You're just holed up in a coop all day, writing down what they say. It gets hot as hell in there."

TITUS HARDIE - "Don't put yourself down, Angus. It's important work." The chief picks his beer back up -- to offer a silent toast.

EUGENE - "Yeah, man, you're like a radio genius or something. Those notes are some in depth stuff. Indexes and shit."

4. "Where can I listen to this?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "I'm sure we can find a tape player," the lieutenant whispers.

SHANKY - "'Where can I listen to this?'" he mocks you. "Why don't you try shoving it up your ass, genius?!"

GLEN - "Yeah, play it with your ass, COCKSUCKER!" His voice echoes like thunder in the small room.

KIM KITSURAGI - "I'm sure we can find a tape player. It's not a problem," he repeats calmly in a hushed voice.

INTERFACING [Easy: Success] - Your room had one, or maybe it's too broken...

5. "That's enough for now. I'll get back to the investigation." (Conclude.)

TITUS HARDIE - "Don't forget your tape, lawman." He pushes the little tape toward you with his giant hand. "Compliments of Titus Hardie."

(Take the tape.) "Fine. I'll listen to it."

(Leave the tape.) "No thanks, Titus. I can get this wrapped up better without it."

Item gained: "Doorgunner Megamix"

New task: Doorgunner Megamix

TITUS HARDIE - "You do that," he says, adjusting his belt buckle. "Oh, and keep it -- maybe you'll need a reminder of human ugliness some day."

4. "I'm going to take off now." [Leave.]

TAPE "DOORGUNNER MEGAMIX"

A magnetic tape acquired from Titus Hardie. It supposedly holds a recording of the mercenary task force radio communications recorded via a de-encryption station. Not a good omen. Requires a boombox to play.

>INTERACT

THE GREAT DOORGUNNER MEGAMIX - You stare at the Great Doorgunner Megamix. If only you had a boombox, you would be able to play Titus' tape.

INLAND EMPIRE [Medium: Success] - The tape feels ominous... Upon it, the dead speak. Respect the tape!

Well, let's check that tape deck in our room, then.

Kim tries not to look at your broken down bathroom door.

STEREO 8 PLAYER - The compact tape player is still and silent. Seems it has completely broken down now.

KIM KITSURAGI - "This would have been *very* helpful with the 'Megamix'." He stares at the tape player. "But it isn't anymore."

"Yeah… any ideas?"

"It's not *my* fault."

KIM KITSURAGI - "My Kineema only comes with a radio," he ponders. "Let's try to find a new tape player. Perhaps we should talk to Roy at the pawnshop -- he has stuff."

#disco elysium #kim kitsuragi #titus hardie #elizabeth beaufort #hardie boys

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officialyourdailyinspiration · 8 months

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It Happened Today in Christian History

September 6, 1774: the Continental Congress made its first official act. The delegates had assembled in Philadelphia a day earlier and elected Peyton Randolph their president. Now they considered a motion by Thomas Cushing, a delegate from Massachusetts, that the daily sessions be opened with prayer.

John Jay (a Congregationalist) and Mr. Rutledge of South Carolina opposed the idea, saying there were too many religious differences among the colonists for them to join in the same worship. Samuel Adams, also a Congregationalist, arose and said that he was “no bigot, and could hear a prayer from any gentleman of piety and virtue, who was at the same time a friend to his country.” He suggested Jacob Duché, a highly respected Protestant Episcopal clergyman. Since southerners considered the New England Protestants to be radicals, this was a wise move, as the Episcopalians were well established in southern states.

The motion passed. The next morning Duché read the Collect (prayer) and the Psalm appointed for the day, Psalm 35, which opens: “Plead my cause, O Lord, with them that strive with me.” This seemed especially fitting to the delegates, who had just learned of a British attack on Boston.

John Adams wrote to his wife Abigail, “I never saw a greater effect upon an audience. It seemed as if Heaven had ordained that Psalm to be read on that morning.”

Adams continued,

“After this, Mr. Duché, unexpected to everybody, struck out into an extemporary prayer, which filled the bosom of every man present. I must confess I never heard a better prayer, or one so well pronounced, Episcopalian as he is. Dr. Cooper himself never prayed with such fervor, such earnestness and pathos, and in language so elegant and sublime—for America, for Congress, for the Province of Massachusetts Bay, and especially the town of Boston. It had an excellent effect upon everybody here.”

Duché later switched sides, becoming a Royalist, and fled to England. Patriots denounced him as a turncoat. The Continental Congress appointed two chaplains in his place. After the Constitution came into effect, House and Senate continued the tradition of chaplains for their respective chambers. One of the best known of recent times was Peter Marshall.

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roseroro · 2 years

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launched patho 2 to check something real quick and saw yet another bull rock on the way soooo bull rocks masterpost i guess

so that makes three different types of bull rocks i noticed in the Town, this one ^ the skulls:

and the sleeping ones:

and well of course there are the Shekhen Big Boys too but those are... not very missable lol

and I think those are a group of sleeping bulls (like in the artbook), though I can't get a really good angle. they're south of Shekhen

so uh yeah, bulls.

Edit: forgot these!

#pathologic 2 #my post #pathologic

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laluzdejesusofficial · 5 months

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PREVIOUSLY EXHIBITED

Win Wallace was born in South Carolina and is currently based in Austin, Texas. His recent practice focuses on conte and charcoal portraits, as well as ink drawings. Since high school, Wallace played in bands and made zillions of flyers for underground punk and noise rock shows. Over the years, he made posters for bands like the Melvins, Neurosis, Sleep, Helios Creed, Alice Donut, DMBQ, Animal Collective, Scratch Acid, The Dicks and many others. He moved to Austin in the mid 1990’s to study drawing at the University of Texas. His drawings are influenced by history, art history, dreams, nature and pathos. Wallace has exhibited his work extensively in Texas, throughout the United States and internationally. Win draws every day.⁠

VIEW ARTWORK FROM THIS EXHIBITION

#win wallace #historical fashion #body horror cw #coquettecore #coquette #cottage aesthetic #cottagecore #witch aesthetic #surrealism #la luz de jesus #los angeles #pastel #pastel lolita #lolita #frills #frilly

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talonsaga-trash · 4 months

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I did not realize how fucking smart Tristan is until this reread. Because unlike Garret, he had absolutely no firsthand experience with dragons, and it still only took until Soldier for him to start shifting his views to fit the evidence he was given.

Look at this from his perspective: he’s a soldier of St. George. All he has seen and heard about from ages 12-21 are that dragons are evil, and in nine years, he’s compiled a lot of evidence to affirm that, because he’s been interacting with Talon. The first scene he’s meeting him, he’s fighting a dragon that has a hand in the South American cartels. He’s probably seen victims of the worst of what Talon does— war funding, human trafficking, drug rings, every damn human rights violation known to man. Some of those former victims might be part of St. George, now. He might even be one of them. And according to the information he’s been given, dragons are all a part of Talon, so there’s no reason for him to believe that dragons can be good.

Garret gets firsthand experiences with a dragon. Tristan distinctly does not, and Garret gives him no information throughout book 1. So when Garret (a pathos driven character) flips sides, Tristan (a logos driven character) can’t make the same leap because yes, he’s loyal to his partner, but in order to make the leap to dragon’s aren’t all evil, he’d have to accept that Talon isn’t all evil. And from all of the evidence he has, that’s untrue.

So how long, one asks, does it take for him to re-evaluate this? Well, from Garret’s perspective, it takes until about halfway through Inferno, but let’s face it, Garret is not an objective narrator and has a lot of baggage concerning Tristan St. Anthony. And Tristan does retain his caution around dragons until around that time, because that’s the smart thing to do when faced with a 500 pound firebreathing lizard.

In reality, it takes until his and Garret’s conversation in the coffeeshop during Soldier.

The thing is, Garret has been insisting to him since the end of Talon that not all dragons are evil, but hasn’t given any evidence, because all of his evidence is emotion driven, and Tristan can’t trust that. He functions by being able to take information and draw his own conclusions, and no matter how much he may want to, he cannot do that with other people’s emotions. But in Soldier, Garret finally gives him the information that he needs, and says that not all dragons are a part of Talon.

And you can practically see on the page how his demeanor shifts. Immediately, once Tristan can get access to that information, he’s willing to work with Garret. Because sure, that involves trusting his partner isn’t outright lying to him, but that is still a piece of impartial information that he can work with. It no longer asks him to assume that Talon isn’t evil when they’re off committing atrocities. The next scene we see him, he’s able to look a dragon in the eye and have an extended conversation— not a civil one by any means, but a conversation nonetheless. They present a problem, and it takes less than forty-eight hours for Tristan to have a solution.

And you can see those echoes through the rest of the series. Tristan evaluating something, being given new information, and immediately re-evaluating and adjusting his world view as-needed. It’s not until Inferno that he has a proper conversation with a dragon, and by then he’s already adjusted so much of his views that he’s ready to have more emotional conversations (particularly in asking Ember if she loves Garret), backed by the informative knoweldge that he’s already parsed through.

He’s just. So smart. And he deserves credit for it.

#The Talon Saga #Talon Saga #Trista St. Anthony

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hussyknee · 2 years

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Hey lovelies. A couple of you sent me asks about Lankan politics. First off - I'm really glad my posts are helping you, and I'm having a blast writing them! I'm going to take a break today and outline a thorough but simple explainer for your questions tomorrow. Still toying with the idea of making a series of them since there seem to be a surprising amount of Lankans on Tumblr now!

You can follow me to see them, or just follow the "Sri Lankan politics" "Sri Lankan protests" or "අරගලයට ජය!" (victory to the struggle) tags.

Meanwhile here are some great accounts on Twitter you can follow:

Marlon Ariyasinghe (Sinhalese) is the Assistant Editor of Himalistan, and one of the people who covered the protests in Colombo end to end. I'm seriously in awe of how much tear gas this man has inhaled, as have so many others, and how long he stays on the ground during incredibly dangerous situations.

Vajra Chandrasekera (Sinhalese) is an award-winning Sci-Fi writer, insanely well-read about our modern history and has a better grasp of political reality than most self-styled pundits, probably because he never presents himself as anything except a wordsmith and storyteller. Here's one that provides a lot of context for the location of Gotagogama back when it first went up in April. He also put together one of the most comprehensive donation threads (please help/ boost!)

Amalini De Sayrah is an amazing photojournalist with Groundviews, documenting the ground realities of Lanka's most marginalized with pathos, joy and sensitivity. Her Gotagogama photos are the best documentation of the protest village IMO

Ambika Sathkunanathan is the former Commissioner of the UN Human Rights Commission Sri Lanka and the Chairperson of the Neelan Tiruchevalam Trust. Her threads are a little more involved and academic than the others, but she's also one of the people who have spearheaded the fight for minority justice for years.

Amitha Arudpragasam (Tamil) independent policy analyst , who focuses on economics from the South Asian female perspective.

Saritha Irugalbandara (Sinhalese) is a feminist and LGBT researcher and activist, incisively analytical and acerbically witty. She was the one who put together this crisis relief fund (please, please donate!)

Maryam Azwer (Muslim) post-colonial academic and journalist who is one of the strongest media voices on feminist issues in the Sri Lankan Muslim community including Muslim Marriage and Divorce Act Reform.

Dr. Thusiyan Nandakumar (Tamil) Editor in chief of the Tamil Guardian and a long-time activist for Tamil self-determination in Sri Lanka. If you're Sinhalese you might have heard that he's an LTTE sympathizer. Speaking as a Sinhalese Buddhist, you really need to follow him and the Tamil Guardian learn about Tamil perspectives and understand the struggle for Tamil self-determination, which preceded the LTTE by decades and continues on today.

Rehana Thowfeek (Muslim) and Chayu Damsinghe (Sinhalese). They're *twitches* economists and neoliberals but what we're in right now is an economic crisis. Capitalism is a fuck, but this particular situation is the result of astounding levels of corruption and incompetence, which is in turn a result of ethno-fascism and dynastic politics. They make truly excellent and simplified threads on macroeconomics for novices and laymen, don't demonize socialism and welfare states, and their aims and ideals have a fair overlap with leftists.

Please note Sri Lankan and South Asian discourses on economics are not at all the same as the US's. The US's left is barely left of center; South Asia has an intractably socialist foundation that is disabled by poverty and corruption created by colonialism and neo-colonialism. Our countries are equally traumatized by communism, neoliberalism and crony capitalism.

That's your a starter pack for the young Sri Lankan/ Desi novice and world affairs nerd. There's hundreds of prominent journalists, researchers, activists, academics, analysts, writers and artists who have throwing themselves bodily at social injustice in Sri Lanka for decades, through one of South Asia's longest and bloodiest civil wars. You guys should have nothing but contempt for international journalists who parachute in and take over stories with less context than any local, instead of simply boosting the local journos who have been covering these stories for years and can out-write them any day of the week. If there's anything this hellscape has taught us, it's how utterly trash international news outlets are - Reuters, The Guardian, CNN, BCC, New York Times - worthless.

Always:

- try to find local newspapers and source

- amplify people who are directly impacted by the issues you want to know about instead of trying to "translate for an English speaking audience"

- never trust political and economic commentators who aren't actually in the country they're commenting on (looking at you Steve Hanke)

- especially never trust white people with fancy degrees who are "experts" on colonialism and racism.

_____

Notes:

I mentioned each one's ethnicity because 90% of Sri Lanka's problems was created by Sinhalese Buddhist ethnonationalist supremacy. The 26 year old civil war was a slow genocide of the Tamils of the North and East, with Muslims massacred by both sides.

Our surnames are so long because the Sinhalese and Tamil alphabets have a letter for every syllable. So names that are only five letters long for us get unravelled like an accordion in English.

#i am incapable of making short and sweet posts #oh well #sri lanka #sri lanka economic crisis #sri lanka politics #sri lanka protests #sri lanka resources #victory to the struggle!#අරගලයට ජය!#subaltern #south asia #current events #world news #colonialism #desi #knee of huss

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mmmthornton · 1 year

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Goin' down to Gorkhon gonna see if I can't unwind Plague angel faces everywhere people shouting "There he is, get him!"

Hey remember when I made a music video for my Pathologic meets South Park AU? Welp. Here it is again but with two tiny changes that were bothering me.

#pathologic #south park #south patho #IDK! They're both really interesting to me as satires of two very different cultures and the meta stuff goes together well #anyway don't get me STAWHTed on this i'll be here all night

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rathologic · 1 year

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FORGOT I saw a post a few weeks ago complaining about this in other games... it IS unfortunate and unintuitive that p1's coordinate system uses Y as the axis for "up/down" in the world, rather than Z. it's often convention to pair the north/south and east/west coordinates next to each other with up/down appended only when relevant; since 1's console doesn't include cursor movement, this would definitively save me typing for most of my use cases (namely: ensuring that spawned objects do not clip into floors or ceilings; and determining the exact fall distance required to take fall damage). unless you're making a very precise straight line of entities, in which case you'd be better off defining them as points in a Scenes file instead of manually retyping rl_set and xspawn, there aren't cases where one would need to repeatedly adjust the lateral position that Pathologic uses as Z. I would say minecraft's cool enough to justify this mode's popularity but patho did come out five years before minecraft

#p1crit #<- abysmally populated tag I should do more for it. this has nothing to do with the writing at all

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rockislandadultreads · 4 months

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Goodreads Choice Awards 2023: Best Humor

Winner: Being Henry by Henry Winkler

Henry Winkler, launched into prominence by his role as “The Fonz” in the beloved Happy Days, has transcended the role that made him who he is. Brilliant, funny, and widely-regarded as the nicest man in Hollywood (though he would be the first to tell you that it’s simply not the case, he’s really just grateful to be here), Henry shares in this achingly vulnerable memoir the disheartening truth of his childhood, the difficulties of a life with severe dyslexia, the pressures of a role that takes on a life of its own, and the path forward once your wildest dream seems behind you.

Since the glorious era of Happy Days fame, Henry has endeared himself to a new generation with roles in such adored shows as Arrested Development, Parks and Recreation, and Barry, where he’s revealed himself as an actor with immense depth and pathos, a departure from the period of his life when he was so distinctly typecast as The Fonz, he could hardly find work.

Filled with profound heart, charm, and self-deprecating humor, Being Henry is a memoir about so much more than a life in Hollywood and the curse of stardom. It is a meaningful testament to the power of sharing truth and kindness and of finding fulfillment within yourself.

Nominee: Leslie F*cking Jones by Leslie Jones

Hey you guys, it’s Leslie. I’m excited to share my story with you.

Now, I’m gonna be honest: Some of the details might be vague because a b*tch is fifty-five and she’s smoked a ton of weed. But while bits might be a touch hazy, I can promise you the underlying truth is REAL. Whether I’m talking about my childhood growing up in the South, my early stand-up days driving from gig to gig through the darkest parts of our country and praying I wouldn’t get murdered, what Chris Rock told Lorne Michaels, that time I wanted to shoot Whoopi Goldberg on SNL, and yeah, I’ll tell you all about Ghostbusters and the nudes and Supermarket Sweep and The Daily Show . . . I’m sharing it all in these pages. It’s not easy being a woman in comedy, especially when you’re a tall-*ss Black woman with a trumpet voice. I have to fight so that no one takes me for granted, and no one takes advantage. These are the stories that explain why. (Cue the Law & Order theme.)

Nominee: Sure, I'll Join Your Cult by Maria Bamford

Maria Bamford is a comedian’s comedian (an outsider among outsiders) and has forever fought to find a place to belong. From struggling with an eating disorder as a child of the 1980s, to navigating a career in the arts (and medical debt and psychiatric institutionalization), she has tried just about every method possible to not only be a part of the world, but to want to be a part of it.

In Bamford’s signature voice, Sure, I’ll Join Your Cult, brings us on a quest to participate in something. With sincerity and transparency, she recounts every anonymous fellowship she has joined (including but not limited to: Debtors Anonymous, Sex and Love Addicts Anonymous, and Overeaters Anonymous), every hypomanic episode (from worrying about selling out under capitalism to enforcing union rules on her Netflix TV show set to protect her health), and every easy 1-to-3-step recipe for fudge in between.

Singular and inimitable, Bamford’s memoir explores what it means to keep going, and to be a member of society (or any group she’s invited to) despite not being very good at it. In turn, she hopes to transform isolating experiences into comedy that will make you feel less alone (without turning into a cult following).

Nominee: Quietly Hostile by Samantha Irby

The success of Irby's career has taken her to new heights. She fields calls with job offers from Hollywood and walks the red carpet with the iconic ladies of Sex and the City. Finally, she has made it. But, behind all that new-found glam, Irby is just trying to keep her life together as she always had.

Her teeth are poisoning her from inside her mouth, and her diarrhea is back. She gets turned away from a restaurant for wearing ugly clothes, she goes to therapy and tries out Lexapro, gets healed with Reiki, explores the power of crystals, and becomes addicted to QVC. Making light of herself as she takes us on an outrageously funny tour of all the details that make up a true portrait of her life, Irby is once again the relatable, uproarious tonic we all need.

#humor #memoir #goodreads #2023 reads #reading recommendations #reading recs #book recommendations #book recs #library books #tbr #tbr pile #to read #booklr #book tumblr #book blog #library blog #readers advisory

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beautifulbizarremagazine · 2 years

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Congratulations to Win Wallace on receiving an Honourable Mention in the 2022 Beautiful Bizarre Art Prize, for his work “Parishioner #8” [charcoal, conte', pencils, 36’’ x 24’’]. Awarded by Modern Eden Gallery.

“Win Wallace was born in South Carolina and is currently based in Austin, Texas. His recent practice focuses on conte and charcoal portraits, as well as ink drawings. Since high school, Wallace played in bands and made scores of flyers for underground punk and noise rock shows. Over the years, he made posters for bands like the Melvins, Neurosis, Sleep, Helios Creed, Alice Donut, DMBQ, Animal Collective, Scratch Acid, The Dicks and many others. He moved to Austin in the mid-1990s to study drawing at the University of Texas. His drawings are influenced by history, art history, dreams, nature and pathos. Wallace has exhibited his work extensively in Texas, throughout the United States and internationally. Win draws every day.”

Get all the information about this year's Beautiful Bizarre Art Prize Winners on https://buff.ly/2J5O3c5 [link in our profile]

—

#beautifulbizarre #beautifulbizarreartprize #moderneden #painting

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brasideios · 1 year

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Get to Know a Blogger

I was tagged by @aeide @mini-uzzy and @ainulindaelynn. Thank you my friends! 🤍

Share your wallpaper:

Last song you listened to: Maybe Tomorrow by the Stereophonics. I recently rediscovered this song after probably ten years of forgetting. Filled with pathos.

Currently reading: I just finished First Love by Ivan Turgenev. I think I’ll read Crime and Punishment next (Dostoyevsky) or War and Peace (Tolstoy). They’re both sitting by the bed, demanding my attention in equal measure.

Last movie: 200 Cigarettes! I recently dug out a story I wrote back in ‘99, and vaguely recalled I was trying to emulate this film. So I wanted to watch it to see how I did, but it wasn’t on any of the five streaming services I have access to (password sharing ftw) so I’d given up on finding it only to discover yesterday that the whole movie is up on Youtube. Happiest moment of my life! (I did badly, btw, with the emulation. In my defence, I’d just left high school 😆).

Last show: Umm... Band of Brothers a couple weeks back, I guess. Rewatching for the tenth time.

Craving: Coffee, as always :)

What are wearing right now: Pyjamas and a dressing gown because *finally* it’s cold in the mornings. Love autumn.

How tall are you: Just shy of six foot.

Piercings: Just my ears.

Tattoos: I have four. A made-up symbol on my ankle I got when I was 18 - literally the day I was legally allowed to get it 😊 I’d planned it for a year beforehand. The word Bittersweet on my back (’all in life is bitterwseet’ as I wrote in a poem at the time) when I was 23; A series of astrological symbols on my left inner forearm which represent me, my fam, and the people who were closest to me at the time. Got that on my 30th birthday in London. And most recently, at 33, a lucky year for me when a lot of things ended and I took back my power (a long, long journey) I marked it with a tattoo - it’s on the inside of my right arm, a feather quill, and the words, ‘... I meant what I said.’ Love tattoos! Would have so many more if I was rich.

Glasses? Contacts? Glasses. My vision isn’t too bad, just need them for reading. Lil long sighted.

Last thing you ate: I haven’t yet today, it’s still too early. Last night’s dinner was pasta bake with chorizo.

Favourite colour: Green, though I really love any colour that’s bright and clear - I am currently going through a phase of bright purples and pinks.

Current obsession: Two of my OC’s and their relationship development (Arity and Jimmy). Maybe also the temple complex I’m building in Minecraft 😅 I spent all day yesterday working on it and I am thinking I might do the same today.

Any pets: Otto Von Krum the schnauzer (my baby boy); Tiki Taco the chihuahua (Daddy’s girl); and Lady Pablo, aka Tiny Bun, my rescued house rabbit.

Favourite fictional character: Favourite? Like, out of all of them?? I couldn’t possibly choose.

The last place you travelled: Along the south coast of Western Australia, as far as Esperance. My favourite place we stopped, my favourite place in the world I think, is Denmark. It’s a beautiful town in amongst hills, with a wide green river flowing through it, surrounded by forests. It’s a different world. Oh, and it has the best pie-shop in the world too, which doesn’t hurt. [Meat pies, that is. Very Australian 😊]

I think everyone I would normally tag has been tagged! But just in case... @auroralykos @el-zorrito @cataliinaa and @theinkandthesea @dbraures @liminalspacecowboah @woodsman2b

#tag game #is me

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adevotedappraisal · 1 year

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Who Is The Living Queen Of Soul?

You can vote on the Queen on the R&B subreddit here

In particular, the death of singer Aretha Franklin in August 2018 left a gash in the collective cultural psyche of America, a deepening crevice that I believe worsens the longer the title of Queen of Soul music is left uninhabited.

Upon reflection, it becomes apparent that what Aretha’s reign of Soul music most importantly did was to codify the musical textures, vocal phrasing and techniques of presentation comprise Soul music and R&B in general. Since her death, R&B music has given me a curious, rudderless impression, as if waiting for a style to settle upon, or for an emotion clear enough to spin into a groove of sentiment. What the genre needs, is a refocusing of its strengths, that broad-chested arrogance that imagination brings and the polestar of excellence that only a queen can bring. Therefore, it begs the question: who is the living Queen of Soul?

Four candidates come to my mind when thinking of living embodiments of the genre of Soul music: Gladys Knight, Patti LaBelle, Chaka Khan and Mary J. Blige. These women have each created multiple classic Soul, R&B and Disco records, spanning multiple generations, each one with enough lasting resonance to be sampled in prominent Hip-Hop records. They exemplify the genre, but with their own idiosyncratic strong points, and would chart a disparate course for the future of R&B if one was chosen as Queen of Soul over the other.

To many, especially in the American South, Gladys Knight would be their reflexive choice, the Southern Georgia bred voice that, between 1957 and 1987 powered her group The Pips 19 top 20 R&B hits with 16 of those becoming top 20 Pop hits. She imbued a deep pathos of longing on songs “Help Me Get Through The Night,” “If I Was Your Woman” and the classic “Midnight Train To Georgia.” Her church-taut control of her alto voice is the engine of the group's biggest hits, that reign brightest during her Motown years of 1966 to 1973, her languished phrasing falling out of favour by the late Seventies, over-shadowed by Disco and Pop hits, the Eighties only yielding one minor hit for the group with “Love Overboard.”

While her Sixties masterpieces have been sampled by the late J Dilla to 2000s rapper Freeway, I’m not sure that her vocal phrasing or songcraft has influence on the current generation of singers, and a choice for her would signal a traditionalist desire to return to the classic sound of Soul music, which might not be such a bad thing all things considered.

Ms. Patti LaBelle has been around just as long as Gladys, and, truth be told, is the voice I am slightly biased towards when I think of R&B. her voice contains a range of voices, from the high-pitched screams of adoration of “My Love, Sweet Love” to the hot scat at the end of “You Are My Friend.” Her voice is a sweet glue that powered her group The Bluebelle to early Sixties hits like “I Gave My Heart To The Junkman” and “The Wedding Song,” which helped to standardise the Rhythm & Blues genre in the process.

What she is missing is notable songs between 1966 and 1974, when Soul music was in heyday, with hits by Aretha, Stevie Wonder and Marvin Gaye. As a Pop culture figure though, she has endured, her songs covered by Christina Aguilera and sampled on classic Rap songs by Outkast and Nelly. Her voice is instantly recognizable, still a mainstay on quiet storm radio, an elemental thread in the perception of Soul music today. Her ad libs at the end of her hit “If Only You Knew” are legendary, each syllable coming hot and incandescent from her throat into our ears.

If you were looking for a queen that can bridge the old and new idioms of Soul then you would be looking for Chaka Khan. Rising to prominence with funk band Rufus with the number one hit “Tell Me Something Good” from 1974, producing 12 top 20 R&B hits with the band.

As a solo artist she was on the cutting edge of R&B, utilising the latest drum machines and synths, like on number one Pop hit “I Feel For You,” and on “Through The Fire,” famously sampled by Kanye West. Khan’s voice is an electric and druggy funk, perfect for the weird 70s and the messed-up party of the 80s. I love how she phrases sorrow and wonder, with yelps and deep layered harmonies, her wild voice writhing like the untamed want underneath Soul music itself. While she isn’t as big of a household name as others on this list, none of them were as adventurous with their sexiness as Chaka.

From her debut “What��s The 411?” Mary J Blige was a generational talent. The rough-hewn vocals expressed a working class anguish and joy that connected with young Gen X Black women looking for an alternative to Whitney Houston and Anita Baker. With her 1992 number one hit “Real Love and her hit “Be Happy” from her sophomore album, she fit in the pocket of those Hip-Hop drums, threading her runs around them.

Of the women mentioned here, Mary J Blige has consistently been on the charts the longest, a presence though the 90s, 2000s, 2010s and the 2020s with her latest album “Good Morning Gorgeous.” She had early 90s rap trendsetter Grand Puba on her debut album and buzzed-about rappers from the Griselda label on her latest. While she was not active during the 70s zenith of Soul music, Blige knows where her voice is most effective, and always has her finger on the pulse of current music. Could it be she is the queen our 21st century needs?

Aretha’s death hit me harder than I thought it would, for reasons I outlined here, but the vacuum she left has been felt as well when it comes to the state of R&B. Does it return to conservative roots with a play to its true strengths of musicianship and gospel-esque ad libs, or does it embrace the brave new world of technological improvements, production and vocals that create a ‘vibe’ to be mixed into streaming playlists? Well, only a queen can answer that.

#Soul #rnb #rnbmusic #gladys knight #patti labelle #chaka khan #mary j blige #music #black women

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