#HE TOOK THE GLASSES OFF LET’S FUCKING GOOOOOOOOO
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good for him.
#HE TOOK THE GLASSES OFF LET’S FUCKING GOOOOOOOOO#alan becker#animator vs animation#ava#ava influencer arc#influencer arc#green influencer arc#ava green#avm green
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Rubies - Trial I
LETS FUCKIMG GOOOOOOOOO
im so excited to write this. i should also say i feel i owe a huge debt to @lumpywhump for this post? i didnt follow it to the letter but it realllllly inspired me and helped break me out of the writers block i had w this story.
(Content: living weapon whumpee, dehumanization, discussions of past abuse)
It was busy back at base. Nothing unfamiliar. Delta kept his head down, staying closely to Kitty’s side. He had a very practiced method of shadowing. He did not look up too often to check, but he seemed to escape the notice of most people passing by. They traveled deeper into the labyrinthine halls of Galatea.
Deeper, though, may have given the wrong impression. Really, they were going further up. The rooms seemed to grow brighter as they did, more ivory than steel. It was cleaner, somehow. The people standing about were older than the rank-and-file that made up the lower levels.
Delta was the youngest person there. He’d expected as much. He always had been.
Earlier, he had packed what little he owned into the weighted black duffel bag, with room left to spare. They’d spent the better part of the week trying to prepare him for what came next, but they always seemed to falter before they could bring themselves to really push. Delta listened patiently as their words tied up.
“They’re going to pry,” Apollo had admitted, “It’s what they do. They want to know what happened.”
“…In detail?” Delta asked.
He had a good sense for it, truthfully. Little snapshots burned themselves into his brain. The doll half buried in the mound where the camp had been pitched. The glass shards he’d teased out from Paris’s arm when he was too drunk to care for himself. The terrier that had rolled over onto its back, unaware he’d been sent to kill it. Sierra’s perfume on the bare spot of her neck and her horsehair brush against his temple.
“I don’t know,” Apollo had sighed, “It’s supposed to be clinical.”
It didn’t feel that clinical in the building. Natural light still poured in, not any harsh fluorescent. It was more casual than he would’ve expected. He was used to more severity — in aesthetic and in manner. But the voices in the room were chatty, familiar. Without any particular edge.
He took note of a few of them. Some he recognized — older members of Galatea, not half as famous as Levon but still well-known. They’d all known each other for a long, long time.
He did not recognize the woman who approached him. Her hair was cut in a neat line about her chin. Dark glasses obscured her eyes.
“This is it?” She was still facing him, but the question was directed to Kitty. She did not wait for an answer.
A finely manicured hand grabbed at his face unexpectedly. He flinched from the surprise of it, but otherwise held still. She tilted it his head to one side, then the other, examining him. He didn’t meet her eyes — or where they would’ve been if the glasses didn’t obscure them.
“Hello???? What the fuck?” Kitty’s tail puffed up in anger, stepping forward.
“Hm?” The woman looked confused. She did not let go.
“Get off him?!?!?” Kitty’s voice rose several decibels. He realized with a start that her claws had come out.
The woman released him, but her puzzled expression did not change. Delta bowed his head a little, keeping his gaze fixed on the floor.
“Why?” She asked.
“He’s sentient,” Apollo seemed to immediately understand the confusion, “Was I not clear enough about that? Did I not explain this properly over the phone?”
“You are?” The woman looked at him again. Delta nodded slowly.
“Oh.” She cleared her throat. “Sorry. I didn’t expect you to be.”
Delta didn’t respond. Sentient. His own sentience felt like a finely guarded secret. He’d been coached to act like it did not exist. He knew any glimpse of awareness from him was not a comforting sight to the public. Nobody wanted a bomb that could think. He could, though. It seemed like he wouldn’t be able to hide it anymore.
The woman started to say more, then grew too embarrassed by the faux pas. She hurriedly excused herself.
“Sorry. You’re okay?” Apollo leaned in.
He nodded, again. He hadn’t really minded. It was all standard fare.
“She shouldn’t have done that,” Apollo said. He was being very precise with his words, “People shouldn’t touch you without your permission.”
Delta nodded like he understood.
~
“Okay. I think we can get started.” Levon swayed the pointer stick back and forth in his hands. “My name is Levon. You all know me, hopefully. I’ll be presiding over the deposition, as is the power vested in me. This is just going to be our day zero. We’ll get everyone up to speed on the situation, introduce ourselves, try to establish an outline for the rest of the trial. Sound good?”
They all sat around a long table. Sunlight streamed in through the blinds. He’d been to enough of these meetings before — chained to the base of the chair, normally, or left off in the corner. It felt deeply unnatural to be sitting in the chair they’d assigned him. It was uncomfortable. He was at their eye level — and somehow felt even more on display than he had been nothing more than a statement piece. There was no avoiding the curious looks they kept casting his way.
“Silas Vern,” a thin man in a long coat introduced himself at the prompting, “Prosecution.”
“Maryam Pike,” a woman dressed in all pink stood up, “I’ll be leading defense.”
Others announced themselves, all unaffiliated, none of particular import. The attention turned back to Delta. He froze up. There was no chance at all he’d be able to speak.
Apollo saved him. His eye twitched in agitation, but that was the only tell. “Apollo Castilian. Katherine Leifer. Delta.”
No surname. He let it hang in the air before sitting down.
“Perfect. So, we’ll go over the facts of the case with the assumption that you’re all hearing them for the first time.” Levon clicked something. The projector behind him turned on. It was a screenshot of the forum’s homepage.
“Around twelve months ago, Agora user-” Levon read every letter of the keysmash. Delta felt a small twinge of annoyances; he’d meant for it to be unpronounceable on purpose. “-began posting a series of threads containing confidential information on Empire’s operations. The nature of the data breach indicated a very high level of clearance within the imperial system, leading many users on the site to believe it was an internal whistleblower. The information was recorded and passed along — unattributed — to Galatea’s intelligence by a Miss Katherine Leifer.”
Kitty smirked a little.
“This was eventually adapted into an exclusivity deal in which the poster was offered immunity in exchange. He turned down the initial offer. About three months ago, he asked that it be re-extended. Under the command of Flight Officer Iza Mok — and unbeknownst to any of her superiors — that request was granted.”
The projector changed to play a video. It was very low resolution, taken from miles away, but it showed the carnage of the airship. It burned and burned in the sky, shaking and struggling until it all went out at once, falling into the ocean.
“An attack was launched on the Centurion Ball. There were no survivors,” Levon said flatly, not sounding too upset by it, “The asset was retrieved, at which point it was revealed that the user possessed extreme psychic ability. Later disclosure confirmed the identity of Δ-107. Our intelligence up until that point had suspected the designation represented a weapon of mass destruction, but we had no explicit knowledge of its design or purpose until now.”
Levon closed his eyes. When he reopened them, he was looking straight at Delta.
“We had no knowledge or expectation that he was alive. Records suggest that he has been marked as imperial property from the age of thirteen onwards. Intelligence uncovered proof of purchase from the now defunct Beldam Institution.”
Oh, it had been ages since he’d heard that name. No one inside of it ever called it by name. It was simply The Institute. Nothing else existed outside of it. He felt strangely sick.
“The full extent of destruction is currently unknown. It seems unlikely that it can even be uncovered. What we do know is the destructive potential suggested by the power readings — and some confirmed incidents. The objective of this trial is to agree upon a just course of action that can ensure the safety of all parties. Any questions?”
He looked around expectantly, his lips pressed into a thin line.
“None? Okay. Silas and Maryam have both been appointed by me, in light of their expertise. We’ll spend the next meetings going over both sides of their arguments. The rest of you are expected to remain impartial to anything but the evidence and the arguments presented. Likewise, if you have any questions or concerns you feel need to be urgently addressed, you need to bring them up now. My hope is that we can get this out of the way in one shot. I don’t want this to be an ongoing discussion. And — I hope this goes without saying — none of this leaves this room. Clear?”
Like that it was dismissed. The older members of the board started to file out, some casting last looks over their shoulder that Delta plainly ignored. Kitty’s hand found his own as she rose to stand.
“Hang back a sec,” Levon said.
She sat back down. As the room emptied, Levon sat too. He leaned one elbow against the back of the chair.
“How are you feeling?” He asked casually.
Nobody answered for him this time. He thought he’d have made it through today without having to speak. He wished he’d stop getting questions like that. He still didn’t know how he was supposed to answer them.
“I’m okay,” he mouthed it more than he said it.
Levon’s eyes switched to Kitty and Apollo, who he knew were far more likely to object. Apollo clicked the pen against the table.
“…I don’t understand what the prosecution is meant to be arguing. You said this wasn’t a punitive trial.”
“He’s arguing for more strict security measures. It isn’t a punishment.” He studied Delta as he said it.
Delta didn’t care, really, how strict anything was. He’d come to surrender. He’d expected to be imprisoned for the rest of his life, if not killed outright. The trial struck him as a formality that they need not take. He wouldn’t have fought them on anything they decided. They needed no pretense of fairness for that. He already knew what he deserved.
“You mind if I talk to you alone?” Levon asked.
Delta nodded, ignoring the quiet protests Apollo was making with his eyes. Kitty squeezed his hand again.
“I’ll cya,” she promised. He believed her.
Levon led him out of the conference room, out into the hall. Delta stayed close to him, careful as if there’s be a tug at his collar if he let himself fall too far back. There was a faint industrial hum throughout the whole building.
“Is there anything I can do that would make this easier for you?” Levon asked quietly. “I know it’s going to be difficult either way. I’m sorry to put you through it. But if it has to happen, is there anything that would help?”
The question caught him severely off-guard. He stepped quietly into the elevator that Levon held open for him. He shook his head.
“…I don’t need anything, sir.”
It was so hard being talked to like a person, though he was familiar enough with being talked at. He didn’t know how to respond in kind. He’d never gotten so many questions before. He was too nervous to answer most of them, too confused to even understand what they were getting at. He kept getting his wires crossed.
They went up a few floors — the one where Delta’s new room was kept, the same floor Levon’s office was on. They stepped out.
“You’ll tell me if you do?” Levon tried instead. It was easier, the yes-or-no questions. Those he could handle.
“Yes, sir.” Delta agreed. He didn’t think it would happen, which made it much easier to confirm.
Levon held open Delta’s bedroom door for him. He was slightly taller than the door frame; he’d have to duck down if he wanted to come inside.
“The room’s okay? For now?” He asked, “You know how to use the buzzer?”
The new room was sterile and clean, white and ascetic. It was expensive, more than Galatea was typically willing to shell out. There wasn’t much inside of it, no decorations, but there were CDs and a projector and books enough to entertain him. No internet. Levon said to wait.
“Yes, sir.”
He did know how to use the buzzer, if he needed anything. But he didn’t. He was used to the solitude.
“Okay. Phone’s always on. Anything at all, let me know.” It seemed like he was going to say something else for a minute, but it didn’t happen. “Bye.”
The door locked behind him.
~~~
tags:
@catnykit @snakebites-and-ink @vivulapom @scoundrelwithboba @whatwhump
@pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @fuckass1000 @fuckcapitalismasshole @defire
@micechomper @writereleaserepeat @aloafofbreadwithanxiety @flowery-whump @littlebookworm69
@lordcatwich @human-123-person @paperprinxe @whomeidontknowthem @chiswhumpcorner
#whump#whump community#whump scenario#whump prompt#whump writing#living weapon whumpee#living weapon#dehumanization#past abuse#conditioned whumpee#whump recovery#rubies#delta#kitty#apollo#levon
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Songs About Me
Alright, here we gooooooooo! My very first fic! I have the first three chapters written out. This will definitely be drawn out, so stick with it! Lots of fluff, lots of angst! Inspired by Driver’s License by Olivia Rodrigo. You can also catch me over on Twitter @ tessaactually.
READ ON AO3
“What do I even wear to something like this? Jeans? A sweater? Fuck, Geillis, I can’t believe you talked me into doing this.” Claire tossed her phone to the middle of the bed. With her hands on her hips, she stood in her closet staring at all the clothes that wouldn’t work for tonight. Things were strewn from the doorway of her bedroom across the floor, up onto the bed, hanging off the dresser from hangers, and into the closet that led to her bathroom. Geillis Duncan, one of Claire’s best friends, had started a tradition of going on Friday nights. Geillis was always the life of the party with her outgoing personality, uncanny ability to read just about anyone, her fiery red hair swinging as she danced regardless of what song was playing. In Geillis, Claire found a soulmate. Someone to dance with, someone to laugh with, someone to drink with, someone to be truly best friends with. Sometimes, though, their ideas of a good time differed. Tonight just happened to be one of those times.
“Stop thinking sae hard. Maybe after a few drinks, ye’ll have a little more fun, aye?” Geillis responded hopefully through the speakerphone. Having more fun is indeed what she promised herself she would do, so she’d go out with Geillis -- damn her -- and try her best to have a good time tonight. It sounded like a nightmare, but she’d try. She’d try to have fun. Memories of the days when she made that vow to herself came flooding back unbidden, and she sat in the middle of her bedroom floor next to a discarded cardigan as she slipped into an unwanted reverie.
When Claire left Oxford College five years ago and gave up studying medicine, nearly everyone she knew tried to convince her she was making the biggest mistake of her life. Classmates staged interventions, friends tried to reason with her, and her professors pleaded with her to not waste her talent. No one was quite as angry as her boyfriend at the time. Claire expected frustration, sadness, maybe a little resentment, but never anger.
“I don’t think I can keep doing this, Frank. I really don’t.” Tears pooled in her eyes as she sat slumped on the floor against their bed. Raindrops ran down the windowpanes, thunder cracked the sky.
“I truly don’t understand how you could be so selfish! You have the talent for the coursework and the money to go here and you’re just, what? Going to through it all away?!” Frank stood across from her, forearm braced on the wall above his head. It was going on two hours since he had looked her in the eye. Claire sniffled in the background. Frank’s fist came to the wall with a sound rivaling the storm raging outside. His storm was not over.
“Don’t you think I’ve thought this through? I have a plan. I’m going to take the rest of my savings, maybe move back to the states and…” Her voice started to break then. Frank spun around on his heel to finally look at her, to really look at her. His chest was heaving,
“And what, Claire? And do what with your life? What about the life we planned together?” He stomped toward her, shaking the floorboards under her body as she clung to her knees. When she looked up, tears starting to fall from her lashes, he dropped to his knees in front of her, grasping for her hands. Claire finally saw more than anger. She finally saw the fear he was trying to reign in but quickly losing control of.
“I’m figuring it out, Frank. I’ll figure it out. We can figure it out. Maybe… maybe I’ll finally open up a greenhouse. You know how much I’ve always wanted to do that. Please, I… I can’t keep going on like this here. I’m so worn down and I can’t -- I know that I can’t -- survive it here another year.” The tears fell. She had been bottling up these thoughts for three years, and couldn’t hold back any longer. “Please, say you understand. Say you love me. Say you support me.” The teardrops turned into rivers. “Say you love me.”
For a few moments, Claire wondered if he had heard her pleas through her wrecking sobs. Finally, Frank let out the breath he was holding, letting his shoulders slump. He dropped her hands without ceremony. He ran a hand through his ordinarily perfect hair. He sat back on the floor, one knee bent up and the other outstretched. His arms reached behind him to hold him up. He just, stared at her.
She was jolted. She had expected outrage. She studied him as best she could through her swollen eyes and water-stained glasses. Everything was silent. The room they had shared for the past three years, was silent. Absently, she noticed the thunder and lightning and pounding rain had stopped, leaving only an occasional trail of water down the old glass windows. With every second the sky turned brighter shades of purple and pink and orange with the impending sunset. On a different day, maybe in a different place, she might have appreciated their beauty. Instead, she noted the silence.
Looking back at Frank then placing her face in her hands once more, she pleaded one last time: “Please say you love me.”
Frank blinked.
In one swift motion he was off the floor and moving toward her. She heard the old floorboard creak. She felt the air whoosh around the room with his movement. She waited for him to reach her.
“Claire. Look at me.”
Ah. Not moving toward her after all. Standing in the doorway with an air of having concluded a business dealing, Frank was watching her with not a single trace of emotion. Claire’s head rose. She wiped her nose on her sleeve and glanced his way with a smile, until she saw where he stood.
“I have never been so disappointed in you. Goodbye, Claire.”
Frank took a breath and looked her up and down, from wild curls to curled up toes. Claire opened her mouth to speak. Frank closed the door behind him as he left. Everything was silent.
Claire shook her head, making her curls bounce like springs. Geillis was still talking but hadn’t seemed to notice the lack of responses coming from the other end. Claire pulled herself up and tried to figure out what Geillis had been talking about.
“... They’re really sweet and kind and they’re really great about buying ye more than a few drinks, plus they’re fellow Scots and just the nicest! I mean, sometimes they’re a little rowdy, ye ken, but I think that’s what ye get when ye go out with Scots --” Geillis was rambling, and Claire didn’t have the foggiest idea who she was referencing.
“Hold on a sec,” Claire tugged an oversized oxblood sweater over her head. “Okay, fill me in again, please. Who did you invite tonight? I thought this was a girl’s night out after a long week!” She tugged on a pair of black faux-leather leggings, bracing on the dresser for balance and she began to tip over.
When Claire left Oxford, she moved back to Boston into her uncle’s old brownstone. Although her Uncle Lamb died during her freshman year at school, he had left her a hefty inheritance. Claire and her uncle were each other’s only family and when he died, he left her everything he had. In his will, he left Claire a note that simply read, “These things are only things, my dear. Use them to follow your dreams, however you may see fit. Love you always, Lamb.” Everything he left her gave her a home in the states far away from everything she wanted to leave behind in England, and the means to start her own little greenhouse in a tiny historic shop in Beacon Hill. After her two closes friends from Oxford graduated, they both ended up in Boston with her. Joe Abernathy was going his residency as Mass Gen, and Geillis had come to do the same until she saw Claire’s shop and declared, “Fuck it, this is way more fun.” She helped in the shop with supplying a small zero-waste shopping section for patrons interested in doing more to protect to earth.
Geillis giggled like a school girl when she started describing the friends she had invited out with them that night. “Weel first there’s Angus. Remember him? I went on a date with him two weeks ago to Seven Ales, ken?”
“Oof, wasn’t that the one you got blackout drunk with?”
“That’s the one, dearie! And a braw time it was! I mean, I assume it was because I don’t really remember the wee hours of it if I’m being honest.”
“Shocker. Who’s next?” Claire kept Geilliss on speakerphone as she rummaged through a pile of shoes in the corner of the bedroom.
“Och, that’d be Rupert. I went out a week ago to Cheers and met the guy who made me laugh until I fell off the barstool?” She giggled to herself at the memory.
“Oh yes, I remember that one. He actually sounded pretty decent.”
“He’s a right sweetheart! Angus is as wheel, just a wee bit more crass, aye?” Claire could practically hear her winking through the phone.
“Alright, that’s not too bad. I can handle two more besides you and me and Joe. I’m actually getting excited for tonight! This week at the shop has been a lot.”
“Agreed, babe. I’ve got tae go, but I’ll meet ye there? Eight o’clock sharp, I want to get our names put in for karaoke!”
#i'm very nervous but very excited#damn actually exactly chidi rn#okay so i know the song is angsty but this fic has a lot of both angst and fluff#just stick with it okay?#you'll love it (hopefully)#i sure do#thanks love you bye#outlander fanfiction#outlander fan fic#in which tessaactually tries fan fic#ope here we go again#outlanderpromptexchange#songs about me fic
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C3E02 - reaction/live?blog
Episode two, let’s GOOOOOOOOO
Matt what the fuck? Wha -----OOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHH
This is fucking amazing I love these costumes so much, except Matt’s appearance might distract me all game, omg
Totally thought Travis was Taliesin at first because of the hair. How thrilled must he be that his costume only consists of wearing a t-shirt and having colored hair? Robbie looks fantastic as Matt, and Laura as Robbie is giving me FEELINGs okay. bi AF
Color me once again disappointed that Sam didn’t choose a character with a deep voice for a full campaign. *fans self*
Oh hey, I guess they finally got the budget for the new teleprompter that Brian was always asking for!
I just realized it doesn’t seem like they’re shouting out inappropriate things any more? That’s a sads.
INITIATIVE! And they all have REALLY good initiative for the second time! I will be so entertained if this group consistently has awesome initiative.
Laudna is the new Caleb, I love it. HOW DOES IT FEEL TO RUN AS FAR BACK AS YOU CAN, MARISHA
Sad thing about watching the re-run on twitch rather than on youtube? Youtube subtitles are 100% better, twitch are so small….
Wait is Matt wearing extensions????
I’m really interested to see where Taliesin is gonna go with Ashton. They’re already not behaving as a typical barbarian during the fight (raging but still very chill), and his whole attitude is very chill and fuck you. Intrigued! Bit sad we no longer get the “I would like to rage”, but I can also understand why Taliesin maybe chose not to continue it.
Oooo, that’s a really good flavoring for Dissonant Whispers! Also that accent from that appearance is fuuucking me over, wtf it’s so wrong. Though part of that is just I’m not used to her voice yet, I guess. Orym is a softer Liam, and I’ve seen the first four of ExU, so him and Fearne I’m used to, Ashton is just Taliesin’s voice, so it’s really going to be Laura, Sam, Marisha, and Travis that I’m going to have to get used to.
Oh, interesting that Bell’s not getting involved at all! (also freaking because I’m watching this on a replay I got spoiled on YOUTUBE because people are uploading clips ALREADY. I don’t know much, just that he gets a nat one in this fight, and apparently it was a big enough deal to warrant a clip. FFS. I am really annoyed at the youtubers posting stuff before the video is released on Monday. I saw tons of FCG and ExU stuff all over titles and thumbnails right after episode one was released, which really spoils anyone who can’t watch it live and isn’t subscribed to twitch)
Wait! Travis isn’t wearing a Sam tshirt!! HE MADE A TRAVIS VERSION OF THE SAM TSHIRT OMG
No Marisha please leave the glasses off! They cover so much of the facial expression, and we’re still learning Laudna!
Oh hey as soon as I typed that she took them off. Thank you!
….what was that magic. TELL ME.
Huh, they were weirdly hyped over the whisper considering they had a whisper in episode one.
Last time I mentioned for production comment that using the ‘fireplace’ effect made the sky night, even though it’s day. Today my production comment is that I wish they would change the stars on one of the screens. Having the same pattern of stars on both will occasionally catch my eye and distract me.
OUCH that Betrand backstory HURTS.
‘You can suck on my hair if you want’ YES I LOVE FEARNE. Even from the small bit of ExU I’d seen before I knew that I enjoyed her, so I’m really glad we have her for the campaign. She’s DELIGHTFUL.
OH YAY!!! I know a lot of posts were around about how Travis was going to be freaked out sitting next to Marisha, but I wasn’t sure how much it would actually happen, but he just is all ‘don’t look at me like that!’ and iloveit
Pate de Rolo. Oh I’m sure the fanbase didn’t notice this at all /s
Oh I ADORE Travis going “what the fuck happened when she was making this character????” and Matt just says “a lot”
“I think I remember a Stonejaw actually” “I’m gonna fucking-” “TRY IT”
bless travis for always being hyped for anything and everything. He’s so fucking excited that Orym can do little bits of magic
Very interesting that there’s multiple PCs basically saying ‘tell us backstory and don’t lie and hide shit’. I wonder if it’s because they explored that path with the M9 and felt like they didn’t need to go down that route again, if they didn’t really *enjoy* the deception so much, or if it’s a case of say one thing but do another. VM knew each other well, M9 lied about everything for the longest, so maybe this one is strangers but being honest? I’m intrigued.
Don’t know how I feel about SO much backstory and stuff coming out already though. Like, it makes sense? But it also just feels a bit like exposition dumping, which I always find meh regardless of the form of media.
Bright day lighting feels a little weird. Bit too strongly white/blue maybe?
Not sure why, but this episode feels long. Am I just not that into it right now? I do have my off CR days. But I dunno. Maybe because it’s because it’s early game? So the relationships aren’t built up yet? That could be it.
ASMR Sam what the actual fuck XD XD XD
Costume adjustments! Laura’s hair is down, Liam’s beanie is off, and Ashley’s facial hair is off. Looks like everyone else has kept everything on, though it was much less of a technical costuming this year
aaaand twitch is lagging because a live re-broadcast is happening at the same time. Uuuugh, this is why I prefer youtube but I can’t wait til Monday!
It’s so interesting to see how FCG does magic. Doesn’t have a diety per se, I wonder what they use for their patron! It makes me think to a PC I created who was a she/it automaton/warforged/whatever-i-hadn’t-figured-out-the-differences-because-she-was-just-a-concept wizard with keen mind, the idea being that she was able to do magic that anyone was able to do, as it just required the VSM and nothing really innate in the way a sorcerer had, and then with keen mind would be able to recall the 30 days with perfect clarity, and then had limited long term memory, so had to choose what information would be wiped and completely forgotten, and what very limited amount of information could be remembered.
Liam re-rolls his first nat one and is so happy!! It’s also very interesting to see the different styles of play with Liam and Sam, where Liam really likes to do well and will take feats to do so (lucky, halfing luck) whereas Sam enjoys the failure so much that he will not use the feature even when he has it (Veth). Neither way is better than the other, just a difference in how the cast prefer to play!
...are they smuggling suude?
And there’s the making sure that they have Identify! And COOOOOL way of having it, iloveit!
Everyone’s going ‘brumestone?’ ‘brumestone?’ ‘brumestone?’ and then with the explanation it’s the OOOH I remember now
I love how no one reaction to Ashton casting Pass Without a Trace, but they’re not a cleric! Everyone’s used to Cad, but Ashton as a barb?? Shouldn’t be able to! Is this homebrew? Or a feat (a la Percy doing warlock spells without being a warlock)?
Laaaaggging dammit. I don’t want to change it to 720p, they’re so blurry in that!!! Downsides of live watching.
I have rewatched Laura’s reaction to Liam sneezing like four times, that’s adorable AF
You know, with how Travis is RPing (and how he’s rolling omg), him being level 5 as compared to the level 3s doesn’t seem to be making much of a difference. Hell, he stayed out of the entire combat? I think at this point I won’t be surprised if he stays as the permanent PC, or if Travis goes with another. I feel like it could go either or, but in order to not work myself into a tizzy like I did before, I’m assuming everyone is staying until told otherwise.
The twins sitting together again is going to cause so much chaos, I love how Laura was like ‘don’t tell DON’T TELL’
mmmm, and travis slips back into Fjord voice. Fjord and Bertrand are so CLOSE, so if he’s not putting in the ‘aging’, it seems to slip back. Don’t know if it’s just because the voices are close, because travis is just slipping a bit, or if it’s a CLUE TO SOMETHING (yeah lol probably not). Also also my document cannot seem to decide when it wants to autocapitalize a word and when it just leaves it all lowercase
Interesting how there’s been lots of C1 references so far, but I feel like not many C2 references at all.
Also laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaag. I have like 50 minutes left, and it lags like every minute or two.
I give up. 720P it is. SADS
I had been thinking all episode that Tal was doing a good job of having Ashton be very different than Molly (despite my worries last episode) but this whole bit where they’re going on about don’t take the three copper? Just feels very Molly. And to be fair, it’s a very valid point! But there’s something about it which just feels ‘reused’ almost? Probably not being fair to Tal here. We’ll have to see how things go. I don’t mind if he wants to explore aspects of Molly that he didn’t get a chance to in C2, but I don’t want Ashton to feel like a reskinned Molly. I want Ashton to stand on their own. To be fair, this is a single conversation about a generic thing, so it could very easily be not related to Molly at all! It just caught my notice.
Also, Travis hasn’t been doing much this episode? I mean, Dorian didn’t do much either, but he did more than Bertrand did. I feel like Travis could have a more forwards character, though maybe he’s in a similar boat with Liam as to him feeling like his character got a lot of spotlight in C2 (Uk’otoka and then the Wildmother?). But if you think of that, then the only people who could be considered to not have had a bunch of spotlight in C2 I would think would be Ashley simply due to her schedule, and actually Taliesin because the Molly/Lucien stuff ended up being oddly separate from him, even though it WOULD have tied to him had Molly still been around, and Cad’s stuff was a fetch-quest of sorts which had to be sort of jammed in to the storyline. Like, it was a lovely bit, but it felt more ‘tacked on’ than all the other PCs stories, which makes sense. Far less time for Matt to integrate it into the world.
OMG I hope they do these whispers with all of Laudna’s messages FOREVER.
Awww, they didn’t do the table view this time. :(
@suicidallyreckless
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