beindumbonthelakebro

[beindumbonthelakebro]

and the nature of the motive basically meant a death was inevitable, because eventually, sleep deprivation would kill someone through physical reason, and then it is game over

The fact that Sasaki literally committed a murder on the spot, shows that killing game is not "battle on intelligent" but just one big meat grinder

//Yeah, that one was down to the extreme behavior changes and lack of judgment that comes from sleep deprivation. Nobody behaves rationally and reasonably when that happens ^^;

[beindumbonthelakebro]

「Aren’t you just a bunch of sadists?」 『她们说，如果你非太快，你会死。』

[STAFFSIDE CONTENT] ⚠

[beindumbonthelakebro]

(tetro danganronpa pink spoilers) fellas

tsuno might be cooked.

if she fucks up with medication, or accidentally lets someone OD, she might be cooked.

with the track record of tetro’s writing personally beating the shit out of me and ripping out personal family lore (affectionate), someone is gonna OD on medication. whether it’s hama, wada or tsuno, intentional or an accident, there’s gonna be something like that

especially when yonekura says she hopes the next execution will just be a “put to sleep” injection

[beindumbonthelakebro]

HOW ARE WE FEELING TETRO DANGANRONPA GANG??????

[beindumbonthelakebro]

<A bit worse for wear, I'm afraid.>

[beindumbonthelakebro]

okay, so, i will be on a bit of a break with the “To Call This Place Evil” AU cause executive dysfunction and decision paralysis is a bitch, so, i’m sincerely sorry about that

[beindumbonthelakebro]

”Hey, look ‘ma, I made it.”

TW: internalized ableism, slight medical horror, body horror, insect imagery (butterflies), staring, eye horror kinda, kinda depressive tendencies, implied narcolepsy

Contaminated person #3: Cameron Corduroy Wilkins

Threat level: Extremely low

Hostility level: Extremely low

Cameron’s fine. He could be mad at you for leaving, or at McLean for letting this happen, or at his mother for folding to his wish for life, hell, even at himself for wanting to go in the first place, but he isn’t. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, really. It’s just the cards he was dealt.

This isn’t much different from his childhood before he arrived at this island. It wasn’t like he had much of a life to lose to orange wings fragile as paper, and eyes that turned the world into a mosaic mural. It’s fine. This is just what happens sometimes. He’s fine.

You won’t see him. But if he is awake, he will be somewhere. Watching. He often watches from a distance, trying to gauge any effects this island has on someone.

It’s a skill kept hidden by the shadow of his frailness: Playing the part of a clinician. Even when he’d believed that he was just going to a competition, he had prescription bottles, over the counter remedies, disinfectant and bandages packed into his belongings.

It’s nice, sometimes, to believe his faith that this can be even slightly mitigated as he  hands me a package of ibuprofen. Sometimes.

Other times, though, I can’t tell if it’s just hollow words, or if he does think this could be understood. And I don’t know if I dare to take his word for it, when I barely even know what they mean.

When I try to ask him, he mutters something, before dozing off again. He has a word for that too.

He is always so, so tired. And when he is tired, he’ll think of his mother. He didn’t just want to prove her ���wrong”. He wanted to reassure her that he could be fine.

But now she can’t know what’s happened, or where he is. She must’ve been right this whole time. But he seems to have come to terms with the fact that he won’t see her now, for her own safety.

That’s fine. Cameron’s fine. Adderall helps, he insists.

He’s fine, Dakota. And he doesn’t want help. Not your help, at least.

It’s evil to help people who don’t want help. You know that, right?

[beindumbonthelakebro]

appropriate responses to mutation

[beindumbonthelakebro]

Sentinel

TWs: body horror, eye contact, coughing up suspicious objects, hazardous mines, implied poisoning, dead birds,

Contaminated person #2: Anne-Maria Marmo-Montoya

Threat level: Extremely High

Hostility level: Medium

You probably had a horrible first impression of Anne-Maria, when she used her hairspray on you. She certainly had a bad first impression of you.

She always had the scent of chemicals around her. And it was not just faint. It was so strong, it was telltale of her presence. I never thought I’d miss such a sensation.

I never thought I’d miss how she, Brick, Scott and Jo bickered about what to do. I never thought I’d miss all the conversations about fashion.

I remember one time, on one of the first few days, when we had no choice but to settle into a cabin, Cameron accidentally inhaled a bit of the hairspray Anne-Maria was using, and she joked that now his lungs were waterproof in an attempt to lighten the mood.

That was before she began to complain about constant muscle pain, and coughing violently, revealing shards of crystal coated in phlegm and blood. Then, it became a cacophony of cursing about the “incubation period” and splitting us up.

You’ve already seen the people in uniforms. They seem to be patrolling when it is bright outside, but the mines seem to be completely off limits, even for them.

The mine is dark and damp, with the scents of dust, algae and… something else. You can’t place what it is, but it’s… irritating. Makes you sneeze and cough.

This is an old enough mine to have used sentinel canaries to measure how much of a hazard it would be to go in.

But among the murky wood, rails and carts, the old has hints of sharp crystal, purple with yellow in the middle.

Black spots swim in your vision. You can only rely on scent and touch.

Eventually, you find a lake full of murky water. Burying your head into it for a short while relieves you of the black spots, but it’s only temporary. Then it’s back to slowly going blind and trying to remember where you came from.

You see a light. A small glimmer of the possibility of survival.

But when you get to the light, it is no nearer an exit than anywhere else.

Your breath catches, cause you’ve found her. Even with your depleting vision, you

The only thing different seems to be that her skin is slightly pallid. But as you get a little closer, you notice that they aren’t just surrounding her. Her knuckles and feet have clawlike portrusions, and her head’s adorned with two goat-like “horns”. Even with the faded dust she’s covered in, she’s radiant… Wait… why can’t you breathe?

Then she shifts her gaze in your direction. Her eyes are just like the gems growing everywhere.

You can feel your body ache.

She cringes, as though she knows something you don’t. Her teeth are just as gemlike as everything else. She doesn’t do anything. Even if her fuse is short, and she technically could charge. That’s not the thing that makes her dangerous.

You take note of some things. The scent is from her. And the crystals with little, yellow birds within. All of them, stiff.

Still, what use is a sentinel to her?

[beindumbonthelakebro]

edited his left hand because it bothered me

The Lightning wielder

CWs: existential themes, implied physical abuse, eye contact, stylized scarring, referenced god complex

Contaminated person #1: Rudolph Jackson

Danger level: High

Hostility level: Extremely High

It’s not even all that ironic. Of course he would be the fastest of all, race to be the first. Of course he was the first. His father raised him for this, set him up for this fate from the very beginning.

It happened so fast. One moment, Jo and Lightning were racing through the soft rain to find McLean, searching through tools and bits, and the next they were fleeing from strangers in protective gear.

It was only when Jo turned to gloat that she realised that he was not there.

He’s been taking out the unfairness on us all, but he doesn’t even hate us, not like he’s built up a hate for you in particular. I don’t want to imagine what he’d do to someone he truly hates. He’s been awake at night, twisting and turning what happened. Why did you get to leave, when he’s clearly the best!? Was he not the most worthy? He was the son of the best! So why was he beaten?

In hindsight, he most certainly must have flown far too close to the sun, drunk on hubris.

In that regard, he is a lot like you, Dakota.

When you set foot on the sand of the island, it is warm and still. It’s the kind of summer one dreams of in Canada. You ignore the air’s sickly stickiness, and brush off the viscous sunlight. You don’t take heed of the scorched tree clearing.

As you wander through the woods, you don’t feel the rays of light cling to your skin, or how the air is completely still, creating an illusion of idyll.

You only take note of it when it’s gone, and there comes soft rain.

You turn to look up. You’re very certain the sky wasn’t this tight before. But there’s no time to just stand and talk about the weather, you decide. As though your life doesn’t hinge on the whims of nature now.

The rain quickly intensifies, and the cold of it is as merciless to your skin as the sun is to his own. A wind sends chills down your spine, and you have no jacket. If you look up again, you’ll see that the sky is closing in, and doing so quickly. You hear massive booming, but no lightning crackles. Still, it never recedes.

You’ll see him in your peripheral vision. Hair a stark white, his skin littered with a fractal pattern, which broadcasts him so clearly, but wearing clothes robbed of all hint of individuality.

He gently brushes his fingers against the trunk of a tree, and to your horror, a lichtenberg figure burns right into the wood. He is the storm now.

You take shelter, and the metal handle seems to ward him off. Doesn’t stop him patrolling longer than what is worth counting. Then, you hear a shot, and the storm stops. But he’ll be back.

He can do this routine over and over again. It’s not even that hard for him to break out of containment.

So go ahead and enlighten him; if you had to choose between you and him, who’s the one more deserving of going back home this time?

You don’t get to pick “both”.

[beindumbonthelakebro]

happy walpurgis night people

tag your local magical girl with fire powers

[beindumbonthelakebro]

The Lightning wielder

CWs: existential themes, implied physical abuse, eye contact, stylized scarring, referenced god complex

Contaminated person #1: Rudolph Jackson

Danger level: High

Hostility level: Extremely High

It’s not even all that ironic. Of course he would be the fastest of all, race to be the first. Of course he was the first. His father raised him for this, set him up for this fate from the very beginning.

It happened so fast. One moment, Jo and Lightning were racing through the soft rain to find McLean, searching through tools and bits, and the next they were fleeing from strangers in protective gear.

It was only when Jo turned to gloat that she realised that he was not there.

He’s been taking out the unfairness on us all, but he doesn’t even hate us, not like he’s built up a hate for you in particular. I don’t want to imagine what he’d do to someone he truly hates. He’s been awake at night, twisting and turning what happened. Why did you get to leave, when he’s clearly the best!? Was he not the most worthy? He was the son of the best! So why was he beaten?

In hindsight, he most certainly must have flown far too close to the sun, drunk on hubris.

In that regard, he is a lot like you, Dakota.

When you set foot on the sand of the island, it is warm and still. It’s the kind of summer one dreams of in Canada. You ignore the air’s sickly stickiness, and brush off the viscous sunlight. You don’t take heed of the scorched tree clearing.

As you wander through the woods, you don’t feel the rays of light cling to your skin, or how the air is completely still, creating an illusion of idyll.

You only take note of it when it’s gone, and there comes soft rain.

You turn to look up. You’re very certain the sky wasn’t this tight before. But there’s no time to just stand and talk about the weather, you decide. As though your life doesn’t hinge on the whims of nature now.

The rain quickly intensifies, and the cold of it is as merciless to your skin as the sun is to his own. A wind sends chills down your spine, and you have no jacket. If you look up again, you’ll see that the sky is closing in, and doing so quickly. You hear massive booming, but no lightning crackles. Still, it never recedes.

You’ll see him in your peripheral vision. Hair a stark white, his skin littered with a fractal pattern, which broadcasts him so clearly, but wearing clothes robbed of all hint of individuality.

He gently brushes his fingers against the trunk of a tree, and to your horror, a lichtenberg figure burns right into the wood. He is the storm now.

You take shelter, and the metal handle seems to ward him off. Doesn’t stop him patrolling longer than what is worth counting. Then, you hear a shot, and the storm stops. But he’ll be back.

He can do this routine over and over again. It’s not even that hard for him to break out of containment.

So go ahead and enlighten him; if you had to choose between you and him, who’s the one more deserving of going back home this time?

You don’t get to pick “both”.

[beindumbonthelakebro]

In the summer of 2013, the fourth season of the Canadian reality show Total Drama was going to be recorded. That was what the audition posters said. But before the first challenge had even begun, the host received a phone call, and he left without a trace. Hours went. No news. No statement. Nothing. Eventually, this silence became far too much for Dakota Milton, who had a cell phone on her. She left with her paparazzi, and that would’ve been it for her part in this.

But it was not.

For nights, it had haunted her; why had she not brought the others?

But even as she and her father fought to know what was going on, they were told that it was “confidential”.

Did that stop her, though? No, for on a dark night, she went on a boat straight to Camp Wawanakwa, caution tape and biohazard signs be damned.

(inspired by the @eavee-ry iots AU ig)

[beindumbonthelakebro]

[beindumbonthelakebro]

dawn not pointing out any holes in staci’s stories cause she knows that is her trying to participate

Kinda wish Staci dynamics where more explored in the fandom. Like I get it she’s barley in two episodes but her and B? Talks x listens? Dawn studying her like a bug in a jar because of her lying? MIKE and her having a ‘what is wrong with me is also what is wrong with you’ moment because of how much both of them lie? Her and Zoey being friends because either of them having many (or any) at home? Come on guys walk with me

[beindumbonthelakebro]

yes she can be creature. As a treat.

[beindumbonthelakebro]

you know what, fuck it (scarlet hollows your td cast)

because more than half of the cast would try to punch a ditchling, and im pretty sure half of that percentage might actually succeed

that’s it that’s my post

😀(absolutely deranged)

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